They dance to the dance floor wild.
Dr. Zeta offers the usual selection, can not be on his own: apparently now runs drug dynamics. And obviously someone
pusher wrong: the man at the counter that I snail seems to come from a different world from that of rowdy dancers. Remember a sloth trying to capture Neo, the hero of the Matrix.
- Srait. He says without closing the jaw, staring into nothingness and hypersalivation. Synthetic
the guy, I think.
I do not have time to take the can of Sprite from the fridge that tells me: - Srait!
Synthetic, slow and hasty.
loses excess saliva, which the chin line and form drop ready to fall on the slate.
glass, straw, tin. I hurry up and make them available, competing with its drop of saliva ever fuller.
Vinco.
- IACC.
The drop becomes a little more long, now hangs from his chin, slimy.
I put a scoop of ice in the glass, also clogs the thread of saliva becomes thick and white. Seem to see the bad copy of a drawing by Hans Ruedi Giger.
remains there, like he was sucking the drink along with the saliva.
Watch the glass, the can and me. Then repeat the
around with his eyes.
Duke asks me what the problem was when we hear the screams coming from the dance floor.
is not the usual fight: they are two girls. Giubeca is forbidden, Ferrotre waiting for orders. The only Predator is ready to act: in a totally democratic as the two girls would be the dancer of taekwondo and the last madman who sought confrontation at the entrance. In this form the shape of the other gender.
Deus ex machina comes the Taliban that calls on them to continue to hair pulling in the parterre, freeing up the trail for those who want to dance.
- And then we also the pool of mud, you could open it. Adds endecamorfo my head.
After the moment of stillness that pervades the Star Wars Bar, as the calm before the storm, all hell breaks loose. The Taliban was thrown to the side of the bench. The two girls start beating each other like two angry laborers, no holds barred. They end up against the console of Dr. Z, totally alien to everything, until that moment. The audience is expanding to make room for two women.
The bouncers are watching.
Giubeca firm Predator more like a dog on a leash.
The music stops, the lights get up and climb up on the bench to make the most of the show.
As in the best action movie of the two exchange flying kicks and do somersaults in the sky stuff is incredible. With a turnaround
double the brunette, the other is blonde, is standing on the bench next to me. The blonde uses a grip on the ceiling to get to her with a double flying kick. The brunette knows her business and take advantage of the momentum of the litigant to hurl it in the parterre shattering the glass.
The Taliban gets up dazed but unharmed.
The two girls are finally in the mud.
Where is slowly approaching the man slug.
When finally reached, in the pool of mud, resting their hands on his shoulders.
- Noon lihihate her myself, I can ahhontentare both hroblemi sensation. She says. Incredibly, the two
stop fighting.
They walk away with the man slug, with the same pitch and the same look.
get down from the bench.
The Taliban asked me to lower the light and screams at Zeta Dr to resume with the selection of mp3 files. While Duke
broom away a few shards of broken glass from the Taliban in its disastrous fall guy behind the counter catches my eye with prudent behavior.
It 's the pusher wrong: show me the snails and asks me if I want one.
- are hypnotic. We make it a bit 'slow but if someone touches you've got it in your power for several hours. One dealer
snails hypnotic! I thought I had seen it all but apparently I was wrong.
- How many do you have? I ask him.
- Ten. I answered the pusher anticipating a sale.
- So you take an investment: eat one and sell the other nine to those around you. I suggest kidding.
Twenty minutes later I have an army of zombies srait asking me to drink but to dance the progressive Dr Zeta. Among
a zombie I recognize the first pusher who smiles at me stupid.
- I seghuito your advice. Can you tell me.
Then I ordered a sprite.
The fridge is now empty but the snails do not want to listen to reason and a voice call Sra-it! Sra-it! Sra-it!
When I see them slowly climb over the counter decided to leave the field and enjoy the vision of the magazine Night of the Living Dead parterre, with a beer in hand and a few meters from the security impromptu zombie.
Waiting for the hypnotic effect of the snails away.
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