Bow Bow

The Den was a quiet little pub off Treacle Mine Road. Its visitors were respectable middle class,middle-aged men stopped by to have a drink on their way elsewhere;
for the most part.

The pub itself was tidy, neat, orderly. Soft yellow light illuminated comfortable cushioned chairs arranged loosely at small tables across the room.
Everyone knew the barman. And more importantly the barman knew everyone. He was probably called Tom.
Bradley H. Higgins was a regular to The Den. Now, there was a man who had been born to drink quietly at a pub like that. He came in at two everyday, on his break from work; drank his drink, and left, He spoke, albeit courteously, to very few people. He paid his tab regularly.
In appearance, he was unremarkable. Short, slightly built, he had thick, black hair which was engaged in a rapid recession from his broad forehead.His form, imdeed his very being, seemed to exude the words, "Mild mannered".
This story is about what happened at The Den one evening; involving the afore described Mr. Higgins.
It was two on a friday in December,and Mr. Higgins had just entered the pub. He made his was up to the barman and ordered his drink. He sat himself neatly and quietly down on his stool.
His drink was ready in minutes; Tom knew his job and his customers.

"You Bastard!".

At first, the only reaction to the sound was of quite puzzlement. It sounded alien and foreign. Surely such and animal scream could not have emanated from any of the pub's quiet drinkers.
As one, they all turned to look at the doorway, in which stood framed....a thing. He looked like a man, certainly the basic elements were there- face,body,legs; but there was something...animal about him. His hair was wild and matted, his face was dark and scarred. He was frothing at the mouth. His convict's attire hung off him in shreds.

"You Bastard!".
And as he screamed it the second time, he raised his hand and pointed- pointed directly..... at Mr. Higgins.


"You lying, cheating, manipulating WEASEL!".

There were sounds of alarm as the man advanced into thepub. Tom reached under the table for his club. No one did anything, mind you. They were all staring, transfixed.

"You ruined it all, you TURD! We were like BROTHERS! I looked up to you, I envied you , I TRUSTED you!". He spat on the floor and drew a breath; his face, hitherto contorted in a mask of fury , took on a rather strange quality. Was it my imagination, or was there something very...human...and wounded in that visage?
"I was HAPPY, you sonofabitch. I was with her and I was HAPPY! But you....YOU FUCKED it all up. You with your WORDS and your PRETENDING and you PROMISES and your DREAMS!"

He seemed to be working himself up to something. Tom pulled out his club, several of the guests rose. Mr. Higgins had still not moved a muscle.

"This is so FUCKING funny!", the madman laughed, deranged. "You're the Bastard and yet these people think I'm crazy!HA HA! They think that I'm evil! Look at you! Sitting there....sitting there where I should be Sitting! Drinking your little drink...Ha ha....SIPPING your little drink; and no one...NO ONE really knows....ha ha..NO ONE really knows what a sick, twisted little..HA HA..ha ha...ha."The laughter died with alarming suddenness.

His eyes narrowed. "Why don't you SAY something? Why in the name of all that is holy are you SMILING you demented freak?!"

Mr. Higgins is smiling.

"You-! You BLOODY-! You...!"

Mr. Higgins finishes his drink.

"Now, LOOK here, you-!"

Mr. Higgins gets up.

"But..! But I-!"

Mr. Higgins walks over to the madman and stops.

The world stands still.

"Bow Bow", says Mr. Higgins.

And out he walks.



The End.





What else can you say to a dog? 'xcept "Bow Bow" and hope it pisses off onto some other unlucky sod the next time.