Jägermeister

JackAss' Pub:

"Oi, Jackass!!! One more Jack Daniels!!!"


The distinctly quaint tavern wasn't exactly the hotbed of debauched reprobates Ash was accustomed to associating himself with, but the rebellious youth figured out that many Japanese divebars could compare to the brand of seedy saloons and crooked cantina's he's usually wiled away the hours in. Throwing chumps through windows and smashing glass bottles over people's heads seeming like a distant memory now that's he's been making ends meet here in this country for the past few months. Ash having settled into his new life here making decent scratch in the underground fighting circuit after saying sayonara to his old biker gang over in the states, which he'd never admit to missing in his entire life. American wrestlers of his fighting caliber were actively sought after around here and offered primo coinage to bring the proverbial pain and/or pleasure. And if there were three things Ash doggeddly pursued and relished in, it was beer, bucks, and b*tches. Not necessarily in that order. Unfortunately, Ash was currently having issues securing one of those.

Ash:

"Whaddya mean you're gonna start cutting me off?! I'm gonna payoff my bar tab later this week, you know I'm good for it!!!" Ash pleaded his case to the bartender, colloquially known as JackAss, after being served what apparently was his first and only beer of the night. The blonde-haired biker seated before the bespectacled barkeep serving other patrons while keeping up with the conversation seamlessly. "Yeah I know you'll pay me back, that's why I'm fine with cutting you off!!! HA!!! Every month you fall behind on paying me your tab and we have this same conversation. You gotta learn some responsibility already, kiddo!!!" Jack remarked with a guffawed cackle into the echoed music playing over the jukebox. Scattered bar patrons offering clanging cheers of the beer mugs, playing pool, or watching baseball off a hanging television amongst plethora of other typical watering hole activities. "Come on man, I used the last of my cash on my sweet ass chopper. I've got some deals going down over the weekend, I'll be rolling in cash than!!!"

*...Ain't this just my luck? Can't believe this douchenozzel is holdin' out on me...* Ash's boiling temperament being tactfully restrained under the given circumstances as he grimaced and groused at the owner of this refined establishment servicing merry drunkards and degenerate scalawags from all wakes of life. The spiky-haired youth beginning to lament his impetuous decision to pimp out his motorcycle rather than payback old debts. Rash decisions being somewhat of a character flaw of his dating back to his days riding with the Red Constellation with other bikers constantly chastising him for his impulsive recklessness. Which he figured was saying something considering the source was a motley crew of ruffians and criminals. But he knew he'd make the money back after his next scheduled fight with his own dealings in the works...but much to his chagrin it looked like no matter how much he campaigned he'd be the only sober patron of the night.

"Whatha..." Ash jostled and swiveled his head towards Sara from the unexpected hand placed onto his shoulder, initially assuming it was some jackass (not the bartender) looking to get froggy...except he quirked his eyebrow at this lady butting herself into this conversation. Who was reading him the riot act and treating him like just some dumb kid trying to sneak out beers for his classmates outside somethin'. Unfortunately she was making several misunderstandings he was all too eager to correct. "Uh, listen lady. I dunno who you think you are, but the fact of the matter is that I'm more than old enough to drink as much booze as I want. Jack here is just hassling me about paying my tab." Jackass offering an affirming nod to corroborate Ash's story. ""But hey, no hard feelings. From what people tell me, eyesight is the first thing to deteriorate in your old age. Whaddya say I buy you some cranberry juice or a fruit smoothee? I hear that's perfect for ladies getting up there in years~..."

Suffice to say that Ash may have crossed a few lines in his spiteful rebuttal back there, but considering he's currently dead broke and as a result has been bargaining with Jackass for the better part of an hour just to serve him one measly pint, Ash's believes he's been conducting himself rather cordially up till this point in the night. Ash showcasing his instinctive knack for getting underneath the skin of any semblance of authority figure even though he'd generously label Sara more of a cougar than anything else, it seemed. In any case, the spiky-haired delinquent returned his attention back towards Jackass after he served this intrusive blabbermouth some ironically titled burns which he rightfully assumed would get the teacher off his back. Only to quirk his eyebrow at the squinting bartender stepping back several paces and plugging his ears...

*WHATTHA FUCK?! THE HELL'S THE MATTER WITH THIS BROAD?!?!* Ash balking with gawking eyes at the enraged banshee practically screaming her goddamn head off at him, the delinquent tilting backward on his bar stool until he precariously balanced himself on two of its wooden legs all throughout her haranguing of the biker boy. A bewildered Ash coming to an epiphany afterward though, a devious smirk darkening his facials as he stepped off his bar stool before Sara. "Heh, twerps like me, huh? I got a better idea. Whaddya say we settle this beef in the ring later tonight here in the bar after Jack's guys set up the ring? Loser has to settle the winner's tab. Just try not to forget to show up, I hear memory is the second thing to deteriorate..." Ash making his way to the exit with his hands in his pockets, intending to return with his wrestling gear in tow.

"...*sigh*...You got any idea how much that hooligan owes me? S'gonna practically double yer own tab if ya end up kissin' the canvas tonight, ya know..." Jackass cautiously advised Sara as his employees started making room to set up the wrestling ring, apparently with one more match to add to the card.

JackAss' Rasslin' Ring:

Anyone whose known Ash for more than several seconds can attest to the fact that the brash delinquent's main area of expertise is in escalating tense situations and tossing even more gasoline onto any fire he comes across or sparks up himself. Which he figures shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone considering what his freaking name is. And this was one scorching bonfire he absolutely couldn't help but chuck more kindling onto. Gears shifting into place within his golden-haired cranium once all the pieces were started to be presented before him. The chance being offered to vent some steam, further advance his underground wrestling credibility, say Adios to his bar tab, and smack some sense into some ancient fossil who thinks she's hot shit. Whether that's from the back of his pimp hand or clapping that fine backside of hers. Opportunity fuckin' knocked and Ash Crimson answered with a devious smirk and a quick detour to his place where he picked up his wrestling attire.

Ask starting to light up a cigarette as Jackass' workers scurried about with the final preparations underway for the ring's construction, audience members filing in and being seated for the night amongst the usual drunken revelers that frequented the bar. Spying his eyes through the curtain as Sara made her entrance to a respectable fanfare as she knocked back one whole pint with one swig. An impressive feat that earned a respectful smirk as Ash flicked his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out himself on his way towards the entrance ramp. Adorned in his own wrestling gear and initialized leather jacket, Ash stomped ahead and climbed atop one of the ring turnbuckles once inside. Catching two beer cans and guzzling them down simultaneously to a frothy waterfall around his mouth before chucking the cans away. Ash hopping down and approaching the middle of the ring afterwards. "Y'know, you could almost be mistaken for hot. Or maybe that's jus' the beer's talkin, Grandma~..."

Ash's Wrestling Gear:

Anyone with even a faint familiarity of Ash's drinking habits would know that the reckless delinquent considers chuggin' down a few beer cans barely gives him a buzz these days. In fact, Ash confidently believes he does his best wrestling/thinking/gambling only after he's downed a few pints anyway. And he figured he's gonna need some helpings of that frosty ale considering that for all of his shit-talkin', he knew this Sara chick could be a tough customer if she's as accustomed to these debauched bar-room brawls as she professes to be. A small part of Ash actually hoping this is the case since that would just make it all the more satisfying once he spanks this ancient fossil and sends her back to the museum where she came from. Ash wiping his thumb off the side of his nose to Sara's rebuttal as the referee started patting him down as well.

*Tch...Fuckin' shame. I'd be generous enough to give her a solid eight if personality wasn't part of the equation. Ah well, whaddya gonna do?* Ash internally bemoaned with a nonchalant sigh and shrug of his shoulders, but snapping back to attention with the bell clanging and signaling the commencement of the match. "Aw yeah? Ya wanna piece of me already do ya?!" A rebellious confidence to his swagger as he approached with a fiendish smirk towards the middle of the ring, accepting the entwined lock-up with assertive vigor. One hand snapped behind Sara's neck with the dueling pair interlocked as Ash huffed in smirking exertion from attempting to usher the red-head back to the turnbuckle behind her. "Hgh...Heard from Jackass yer some kinda teacher. Fraid' today's lesson is me teachin' you how to assume certain positions~..."