The Killjoy

The Killjoy. An apt name for the shithole Slash was sitting, one elbow on the bar and a half empty whiskey glass on hand.
Dirty, with a sempiternal smell of old beer and stale cigarettes, the place was old fashioned and past it sell by date, the decor reminding of a70s cheap porn movie set, yet it attracted a mixed crowd, from important politicians to gangsters, making it one of the top night time spots on L.A.

Slash put the cold glass on his forehead and sighed. All his muscles ached, and his knees were raw from a scruff with a a guy barely out of high school that tried to sell him a fold of smack and bolted after he'd shown his LAPD badge earlier on a dirty alley behind the Rainbow.

"Motherfucking cunt." He said, more to himself than for anyone else.

" Hard day on the mill?" Asked Steven behind the bar, an eternal smile on his baby face.

" The fuck do you think?" Said Slash back, bad humoured.

" I think you should send the LAPD to hell and come work with me, be my partner. Business is growing and I could do with another pair of hands."

" No thank you."

They might have known each other since they were kids, and it was rare the day they didn't meet, but Slash wasn't about to throw his career to the wind on a whim, and especially not to get involved in Stevens line of work.

" We have new staff," whispered Steven over the bar. "Very very special hostesses, really hot, and new musicians and performers. Stay a bit longer and have another drink on the house." He said, filling Slashs glass with a smile.

Just as on cue, the girls started to fill the bar. Slash observed, surprised, how a tall, blonde guy, wearing a fluor coloured lycra shorts so small it bordered indecency, with a sleeveless Ramones t shirt that left his belly button on show, approached the bar, and with his knees on the stool, asked Steven, "can I have a straw for my soda?"

"Sure thing, sugar." Smiled Steven.

The blonde kid gave Slash his hand, "I'm Duff, nice to meet you", he said, smiling seductively as he sucked on his Pepsi.

"Slash." He said drily.

Duff walked away shashaying his round lycra clad butt. "Are you hiring twinks as well as sluts?" Slash asked, his brow cocked.

Steven opened his arms behind the bar. "Times have changed bro, I'm only giving my clients what they want, nothing else."

The stage curtains opened then, an a guy, (was it a guy?) with log red hair and milky arms started to sing a The Doors song. He was clad in black leather pants so tight, Slash wasn't sure how did he managed to slide then on, and a black shirt that was tied at the waist, plus various bracelets that sparkled everytime he moved his hands. Slash also noted the boy's mouth. Red, moist, like a juicy, ripe cherry.

He adjusted himself on the hard bar stool, a litte botherered on how his sex was suddenly swelling from contemplating the red haired guy.

"You like him eh?" Winked Steven at him, letting out a laugh at his friends strained face, "oh my, you've gone green!"

"Fuck off Stevie, I'm not into dudes."

"Oh, me neither, but this boy it's something else, kinda special, ain't he? Came from nowhere, he and the tall blonde one, to ask for a job, and I said why the fuck not? Oportunities for everyone, that's my moto!"

"Your moto, Steven, is money, that and nothing else", said Izzy, sitting beside Slash at the bar, "pour me a whiskey and shut your fucking trap, I don't fancy hearing your voice tonight." He passed his hand through his greasy hair and put his pistol on the bar.

"Right away, litte ray of darkness." Steven said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Some of the girls sitting at the bar were whispering, looking at the gun, and Izzy picked it up and put it on his temple. "What's the matter ladies? You don't appreciate my gun? I have another one, and it's way fatter than this." Izzy said, grabbing his crotch.

"Common Izzy, put this fucking thing away." Asked Slash. He didn't like guns, and hated the weight of its strap on him, unlike Izzy, that wiewed it like it was part of his own body, and knowing him, Slash could swear he showered and slept with the thing on.

"Yeah, put that shit away, you are scaring my girls." Steven said, putting the glass before Izzy.

"Your girls are scared of everything, Stevie. "Oh Izzy, you not going to fuck me with that!" Izzy said, mockingly, his face twisted in digust.

The blond boy sat by Izzys side, that gave him the once over.

"Are you afraid of guns, sugar?" Izzy asked Duff.

"I'm not afraid of anything." Said Duff, smirking.

"And big cocks? Does it scares you?"

"Why, are you gonna shoot me with one, cowboy?" Answered Duff in a heartbeat.

"Steven, pour this kid a drink, he amuses me."

Slash opened his mouth in surprise, because in all the years he had been Izzys partner, he'd never seen seen him amused by anybody, less be it dudes with neon hot pants and cowboy boots.

He was taken out of his reverie by a hand on his back, and was prepared to turn around with a sharp word for the ususal girls of the stablishment, but was greeted by a pair of green eyes that looked at him intensely.

"Hi, I'm Axl."

"Um, hi." Was all Slash could say.

"Do you have a gun also?" Axl asked.

Slash looked at him, confused. "A gun? Oh shit, yes, I do have one , yes."

"Can I see it?" Axl asked.

"What, now?"

"Um, you're right, now it's not a good time, another day, perhaps?"

"Yeah, sure. Would you like a drink?" Slash heard himself saying.

"Thanks, but I have already been invited. Steven, Moet on the 12th?" Axl said, looking at Steven.

"Senator Mustaine?" Asked Steven.

"The one and only." Smiled Axl.

He walked away, leaving behind a faint cologne aroma, Channel Homme, Slash was sure of it. His phone vibrated on his pocket.

"Izzy", he asked, looking at the screen."Izzy!" Slash had to shout over the music.

"What?" Izzy asked, angry at the interruption.

"Boss wants us. Found another one in the Canyon."

Izzy strapped his gun and got up. "Like the others?"

"Sounds like it." Slash said as they left the Killjoy and its noise.

From the 12th table, Axl looked at Duff and smiled.