BULLETS by Elijah Drive

nobody saw nothing, and if they did, the coon started it. Said just to make sure we keep it outside, that’s all.”
    Orville nodded, his bad mood lifting at the thought of what he was gonna do to this black fucker. He cracked his knuckles and stared at his buddies, who were dressed as he was—jeans and boots, trucker caps and flannel shirts with the sleeves torn off. Orville was bigger than any of them and the most fearsome brawler. He wanted this.
    “All right, I’ll go in and get this party started.”
    “I dunno, Orville, he might not want nothin’ to do with you,” Freddie said. “Even a big bastard like him might have second thoughts about stepping outside with someone your size. Vaughn’s the smallest one, maybe we should just have him—”
    Orville finished his candy bar and spit on the ground.
    “Hell no, I’m sick of waiting for this fuckhole. I’m goin’ in, I’ll get him out here if I have to drag him by his big ass lips. You fellas, you don’t do nothin’ when it starts, you wait until I’m done before you wade in, got me?”
    They all nodded, nobody wanted to be on Orville’s bad side, and plus there was nothing they loved better than watching Orville kick some fucking ass. Jay leaned into his truck cab, pulled out a pistol and checked the rounds.
    “You ain’t gonna need that,” Orville said and went on inside.

13
    O rville paused once inside Missy’s, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the gloom of the bar. A few dedicated drinkers dotted the tables here and there, but the bar was nearly deserted and it wasn’t hard to see why. The black bastard sat there, the remains of a salad on a plate in front of him, fiddling with his phone. Stupid fucker.
    Orville saw Vaughn at the other end of the bar, caught his eye and grinned. Orville jerked his chin and Vaughn finished up his beer and scurried on out of there, smirking the whole way. Orville hitched up his pants, walked over to the bar and sat down heavily next to Slick, signaled for a beer from the tap. Better to quench his thirst before letting the beast out of the cage.
    Orville took a deep drink, belched, licked his lips and turned to Slick. Orville had the perfect opening line, too, he knew just was he was gonna say to this spade. Before he could open his mouth, though, the big black bastard turned and spoke to him.
    “You must be Orville.”
    Orville was struck dumb by that and couldn’t speak, just stared at Slick.
    “What you do walk around at, two-fifty, two sixty, right? Big, mean and with a lot of obvious white space between the ears. That makes you Orville.”
    All the righteous and clever insults Orville had considered lobbing at Slick for the past two hours fled him at that moment. He stayed silent, mind working fast as it could, but that wasn’t fast enough. He was frozen, couldn’t even take another drink of beer.
    “Dumb, man, real dumb. You gonna follow someone, you might consider NOT using your own vehicle or, at the very least, change the license plate. Too easy.”
    Slick drained his beer, set the mug down. He dug out some cash, tossed it on the bar to pay the bill then stood up and stared at Orville.
    “Well? We gonna do this inside or out?”
    Orville finally found his voice, anger flooding his body anew. “Outside.”
    Slick nodded, turned and headed for the door. Orville followed, his rage growing with every step. He’d been pissed before, but now he was absolutely fucking furious. So the jungle bunny made him, so what? He was still gonna stomp his ass but good.

14
    S lick stepped out of the bar, sliding carefully to the side so that Orville wasn’t standing behind him, getting the wall of the bar to his back. He glanced at the four men waiting for him and Orville. Slick pointed his finger at each one, checking them off.
    “Dumb. Dumber. Special needs. Tea bagger—” Slick turned to Orville “—and you, you are the missing link that confirms Darwin’s Theory of Evolution. Who taught you to walk