77/An Average Night in Newark

An Average Night in Newark
Date of Scene:	19 April 2017
Location:	Newark, New Jersey
Synopsis:	Summary needed.
Cast of Characters:	Jack Burton, Crusader

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Jack Burton has posed:
"...and, let me tell you, when someone offers ol' Jack Burton a potion that's supposed to give him magic senses and smells like the north end of a southbound garbage demon, well ... let's just say that ol' Jack knows when to make a scene and when to pinch his nose and think of Lady Liberty." The man in the white tank top laughs, slams his palm on the bar top, and throws back a shot.

Meanwhile, the whiskery hobo next to him blinks sluggishly and asks, "Who the hell is Jack Burton?"

The man in the white tank top sighs. "Really, Mac?" He pushes himself to his feet and sniffs. "Jack's me. I'm Jack. And, if you'll excuse me just a minute, I'm in need of some relief." He makes his way to the restroom.

The bar--officially called "The Landing" but colloquially referred to as "The Turdpile"--is not overcrowded at this time of the night. However, those present are a relatively rowdy bunch. There are a few games of pool happening, with at least one tense standoff breaking out with each match. Others are drinking one another under the table. Still others are idly munching on peanuts while trying to stay upright against the bar.

Underlying it all is a dense fog of cigarette smoke that fills the air, made all the more acrid by the smell of B.O., vomit, and God knows what else.

Crusader has posed:
Work done, and old haunting grounds quiet, it was time to see what else was in the neighborhood! Libray...boreing, xanatos plaza.... nah. Oh, a bar that smells of a possible fight? Helll yes!

Bjorn, a massive man dressed in leather buisness suit seeming far to formal for the bar walks in. His piecing eyes like around a massive grin shows off large canines "Now this is Bjorn kinda place!" his voice booms out

And without missing a step he slides past the bar "Eh Bub, get Bjorn your strongest. Not much care what it is!"

And before the tender even gts a chance to response, the man breezes his way over to a nearby pool game where the match was getting heated up.

Jack Burton has posed:
The pool players seem to be arguing over whether or not one of them--the larger of the two--had 'scratched' his shot.

"You ain't gettin' away with it again," the accuser sneers, thrusting a finger into the other's chest. "Already cheated me outta twenty, you son of a--"

His insult is cut short by the larger man grabbing the finger and twisting it. "Listen here, /stain/, you know I'm winning fair and square. Stop tryna ruin my rep by makin' these claims." He flexes his hand and makes a tight fist, beginning to throw a punch--just as his opponent flings himself forward, setting the larger man off-balance. It also shifts the larger man's momentum so that his punch ends up directed right at Bjorn's innocent face.

Crusader has posed:
Bjorn has a relatively...short statue as opposed to his weight. Two tons of mass packed into a 7 foot humanoid.... one that happens to be completly solid like a steel wall. The punch is more than likely going to hurt the puncher than Bjorn. Though he does flinch /only/ because he wasn't expecting it!

Bjorn cracks his knuckles, which has the distinct sound of metal snapping instead of just bones "Alright men, tell you what, you go cool off your heads and Bjorn will not toss your arse out the door. You kin?"

The man always seeks the least violent route first. Though he had a feeling that these fellas may have had one to many to drink. Still, it was a fair warning.

Jack Burton has posed:
Bjorn's inadvertent dance partner cries out in pain as his hand breaks on impact. "What the hell--?!" he spits out mid-wince.

The man's billiards opponent, meanwhile, takes this opportunity to break a pool cue over his foe's back. "Yeah, take that, jerk!"

It's at this moment that Jack Burton returns from the restroom, flicking the water off his hands. "...never have any paper towels in there," he mumbles before spotting the growing brawl.

"Whoa, whoa! Two against one? That just ain't right!"

With that, he launches himself at the nearest figure in the two-on-one, trying to put his target in a headlock. Unfortunately for Jack, that target is Bjorn.

Crusader has posed:
Bjorn was about to intervene. As this looked like it was quick escalating. But than suddenly he finds a monkey... or rather jack on his back putting him in a headlock no less!

The headlock was of course ineffective. "Well, Bjorn did not expect his night to go like this!" Suddenly he dodges to the side of in oncomming pool cue aimmed at his head. Self preservation is still a thing

The cue inevetiably hits someone else. He assume it was the guy next to him, and soon that pool table begins to brawl. A chain reaction!

Bjorn reaches over himself...his arms alot more flexiable than they would appear to try and grab Jack and pull him off his back "Off with you!"

Jack Burton has posed:
Jack finds himself airborne and upside-down, a position he ponders philosophically for a moment before he goes back-first into the nearest wall. The impact creates a bit of a crater in the wall, and the photos and neon lights that had been mounted on it crash to the floor.

The pool players, meanwhile, have spread their wild combat out to incorporate more of the bar's customers. Pitchers full of beer are thrown at others' heads. Pool cues make contact with crotches. Someone leaps onto a pool table and drop-kicks the jukebox (and the Hong Kong Cavaliers begins playing).

The bartender simply shrugs and continues cleaning glasses with his rag.

Crusader has posed:
Order and Disarray where the special dish of the day!

People from the left and from the right come to charge at Bjorn. Really you would THINK seeing him toss around full grown men would make them think others... but nope. SOme spalsh beer on him and try hitting him in the groin, with no effect "Alright, nice Bjorn go away now"

Bjorn lets loose! He begins pick up and throwing people at other people. Not TOO hard, just enough to get them scrambling! Glasses are being chucked, tables flipped. Punches thrown. It was War

And it was GREAT!

Bjorn joins in the rowdy behavior like he was always one of hem, despite being a suit. Though he seems to make a point of getting in front of the bar whenever a glass is thrown that way

Two men with cues go after Jack and SWING BATTERBATTER at him with all their might. This was a no holdems battle royal!

Jack Burton has posed:
Taking two pool cues to the gut, Jack groans and blacks out for a second or two. While Bjorn gets into it, Jack manages to groggily push himself to his feet. He starts to stand, but his legs buckle for a moment. Luckily for him, right then a trashcan is thrown at the wall where his head would have been.

"Hell, it's just like my second wedding," Jack says before pushing another stumbling brawler away from him. "Here's hoping Aunt Julie's not gettin' lucky in the closet..."

Gathering his wits, Jack points to the massive one-man wrecking crew. "Hey! Ugly! You're the one who started all this, right? Well, come and get some!" Jack poses intimidatingly for a second, thinks better of it, and quickly throws a beer bottle at Bjorn's head.

Crusader has posed:
"Actually No. It was..." and bottle to the head. The bottle shatters into pieces...but Bjorn was left unmarked. He raises an eyebrow at Jack next, as if to ask 'really?' about the bottle throwing

Alright, it that kind of game. Bjorn stands straight and towering, somehow his presence just fills the room, as his peircing golden eyes burrow into Jack. It was his term to try and be intimidating "Want to throw something else?" his voice thunders.

To note the less drunk one were not making a point of avoiding Bjorn....they kinda of got the idea to leave the one man wrecking crew alone!

Jack Burton has posed:
Jack offers a confused stare as the bottle has seemingly no effect on the large man.

"Aw, come on, really? When did they stop manufacturing bottles in the good old U-S-of-A?"

Jack sighs and stretches his neck from side to side, the joint popping. "Alright, then. It's up to Jack to put the ki-bosh on these shenanigans. Alley-OOP!" he cries with a wild laugh, leaping onto a pool table with one foot and then soaring through the air at Bjorn's face.

Meanwhile, the violence in the rest of the bar begins to die down as Bjorn's damage output is just too much for the drunks and regulars here...so Jack's hurrah seems especially loud and gaudy a display at this moment.

Crusader has posed:
Well Bjorn gotta give Jack this. Dude got some major grit.

But grit won't help here! Bjorn steps to the side. He already got a fist, and a bottle to the face - does not need a foot!

As Jack begins to soar past Bjorn attempt to snatch the man out of thin air by the scuff of his neck and just hold him, if possible "Be honest, did you really think that was going to work? Beleive Bjorn, this is quite embarressing"

Jack Burton has posed:
"Whooooof!" rushes the air from Jack's lungs as his momentum is suddenly disrupted.

"Boy..." he says, trying simultaneously to catch his breath and to free himself from Bjorn's grip.

"What, are you on some brute squad or something? Ma Burton always told her boys never to take on anyone who couldn't fit a Super Bowl ring on their finger, but I just can't let that two-on-one action go down like that! So put me down and let's have a fair fight already!"

Jack punctuates his demand with a futile right hook that can't even reach Bjorn's shoulder, let alone his face.

Crusader has posed:
Bjorn gets flat expression "Firstly" and he turns Jack while still holding him to show the apparent person he was ganging up on "He punched me first, by accident no doubt. And than" turns jack to the other guy "He hit him with a cuestick"

Turns Jack to him now "Bjorn simply requested they cooled themselves off, before Samurie jack here" which is jack "Decided to ride my back like a monkey"

"But if you insist" and he puts jack down on his feet "Fair warning, last fella who punch me, broke his hand" that being the first fella

Jack Burton has posed:
Gritting his teeth, Jack listens quietly as Bjorn speaks. When he's done, the truck driver sighs and slicks his hair back.

"Well, hell, bud, why didn't you just say so?" Jack breaks into laughter and slaps Bjorn on the shoulder. "You can't just go acceleratin' a one-on-one scuffle like that! A fella comin' outta the bathroom's gonna see things all funky and risk knockin' out the wrong man. Yeesh!"

With that, Jack looks over his shoulder and signals to the bartender. "Hey! Bill! A round on me!"

"Sorry, Jack," the bartender replies, pointing with a thumb at the clock over his shoulder. "Last call happened while your 'scuffle' was goin' down. You'll have to wait until tomorrow."

Crusader has posed:
"Bjorn like fighting." is his answer to jack "That and well you an everyone else, kept trying to hit me" quite successfully stricktly speaking... just uneffective because shenigans!

Bjorn looks to the clock and frowns "Damn it!" sighs "Well, it was a fun scuffle. No one was serisouly hurt"

Zooe out. People, glass and broken cues everywhere. Groans of pain and drunkness evidents. Zoom back in.

"....alright, at least we did not need to call the athorities" he rubs his beard and looks to Jack "....no of any other open bars?"