Whiskey Frisky

Part Two

Even from behind his shades Seth felt his eyes flinch against the sunlight, blinding him for a solid minute as he fumbled to light his cigarette. The warmth was welcome at least, not that the inside of the store was anything less than a sweltering sweat box in its own right. One thing Seth had come to learn about Los Angeles is that nothing quite compliments a wave of afternoon heat like the smell of ocean and cheap cuisine. He closed his eyes and gave an indulgent moan as the deliciously hot cigarette smoke snaked through his throat and crept from his nostrils in white tendrils. Chorus lines of street performers and celebrity impersonators were dancing, marching, and swaggering along the street, reaching for every passer by like wave of flamboyantly dressed parasites.

'Five bucks for a photo champ, if mum's feelin generous,' said a surprisingly convincing Donald Trump.

Oh look, the twerking Mario is back too. Nice.

'Happy Halloween,' the young man muttered.

Something else caught Seth's eye. Two men were marching purposefully towards the store from across the road, weaving between cars and ignoring the frustrated honks of the drivers.

'Get off the road you fucking morons!'

They were dressed in dark jackets, a suspicious choice for the current climate, and had their caps pulled low over their faces.

'Ah, shit,' Seth hissed, blowing the smoke from his mouth and flicking his smoke to the wind. He rushed backwards into the store and ducked behind the counter, wrenching open a drawer.

'Zel you old prick, we have company,' he yelled. Still no reply.

Within a heartbeat the men were inside and towering over the young man and his toppled box of cereal.

'We need to do it again,' one of the men said in a husky Mockney accent.

Seth sighed and slammed the drawer shut.

'You sure about that Jason?'

The man on the left looked around cautiously, checking for any other store browsers before removing his cap to reveal a glistening bald scalp. It had been more than a decade since Jason Statham had stepped foot into Whiskey Frisky, but here was was, drenched in nervous sweat.

'We're sure.'

The second man removed his cap as well, revealing the handsome face of one Chris Pratt.

'Do you guys not remember how close you came the first time? You know it's twice as bad the second time right?' Seth seemed utterly unimpressed by his company, in fact his cheeks were now flushed with annoyance.

'Please, I need this,' Jason said, leaning forward and cupping his hands pleadingly.

Seth sighed again.

'I don't get why though, especially you Chris, you're doing great right now.'

'Did you see the last Avengers movie man,' Chris replied, 'I barely had two lines. My manager thinks I may be on the way out.'

'I dunno guys,' Seth said, shaking his head incredulously, 'the old man might not go for it. Did you bring payment at least.'

As if the men had been waiting for those very words, both Jason and Chris lifted and slammed a bulging, black duffle onto the counter, knocking over a delicate stack of Bubble Bath Ice-Cream Butter.

'It's all there.' Jason said in a hushed voice.

'Alright,' Seth said, giving one last warning sigh and getting to his feet. 'Head into the back and I'll lock up.'