King of the World
Chapter 1
Angela and I walk into this bar, the Freeman Pub I think. I’ve never been there before. And it’s not really important. Anyway, she talked me into going into this bar for our anniversary. I’m not the social type, but she likes to get out and try new places, especially small local joints. I’ve always humored her, but I’m not really the drinking type. We sit down at a table, not the corner booth as I’d prefer, but a center table she picked out, between the door and bar. I was expecting another night of get Angela drunk, reminisce, and have her pass out at my place, again. But I ended up getting a whole lot more.
About an hour into our anniversary routine, this old man walks in. He looked ancient, but maybe like he had a rough life. I would estimate, at the time, that he was between thirty and seventy years old. That’s how hard it was to pinpoint this man’s age. But this young, middle-aged, elderly man, who looked a little dirty and almost like a beggar, had three very beautiful women with him. One of which looked almost like a fashion model. They took the corner booth that I’d wanted, but I quickly took my eyes off them and on to my ‘date’ for the evening. An attractive young waitress came by and asked if I needed a refill on my drink. I declined, as I expected to be leaving soon. Angela’s speech was starting to slur, and I was getting ready to go home. But as I turned to grab my jacket off the chair, my mouth fell open.
“What the hell, Angie?” I asked. “Huh?” she said. “I thought you said you’ve been here before? That it was just some small-town family bar?” “It is” she replied. “Well from the looks of it, you picked out a topless bar,” I laughed, pointing to the attractive waitress again, who at some point in the last couple minutes taken her top off and was continuing her duties. “What do you mean?” My god, she was drink. “That waitress, she’s topless.” “Oh,” Angela said, “I hadn’t noticed.” I just rolled my eyes. It was weird how I hadn’t seen any sign that this was a topless bar beforehand. I thought there was children here when I came in. Oh well, I better get Angela home. I went for my wallet when I saw it.
“Woah” I silently muttered as another waitress came by wearing only a top. Completely bottomless. I didn’t realize that was legal, outside of some strip clubs, which this obviously wasn’t. Angela seemed oblivious, probably too drunk to fully realize what was going on. I figured I better get her out of here, before she realizes and gets mad at me (she does that some times, circular logic and all). “Honey,” she said, “I’m going to use the washroom.” “Sure take your time,” I replied, silently assuming she need to throw up or something. I was, ‘enjoying the sights’ they say, as I waited a couple minutes. It looked like one of the now nude waitresses just goosed another one as they walked into the back, but I assumed my mind was playing tricks on me. About a minute past, before I got up to pay the clerk, my waitress having never returned with the bill or anything. I was trying to explain to the register lady that my bill never came when she told me, “Don’t worry, all drinks are on that gentleman over there.” I turned to see who she was referring to, as I saw, in the corner booth, the vagrant, his three female friends, and what appeared to be my Angela underneath the table performing fellatio. My eyes widened.
“Hey!” I said, as I rushed over to the table. I grabbed Angela out from under there, and gave her a stern look, noting that she was completely nude. My eyes immediately darted to the old man. Although another woman was between him and I, I reached around her and grabbed the man by his dirty coat, holding my fist in the air. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” I yelled. The man’s eyes widened bigger than mine. “Jesus Christ,” he said. I punched here as hard as I could in the face. Not because I’m religious or anything, but out of anger. “I said, ‘What in the hell are you doing with Angela?” It was more loud emphasis than yelling this time. He laughed. I punched him again. He laughed louder. I had him out of the booth by now and was holding him against the wall. “My dear boy,” he said, “I am merely doing what is natural.”
“Natural?! You are taking advantage of a drunk girl in a topless bar! If I could, I’d kill you right here!” I said the empty threat as I tossed him as hard as I could on the floor, his bloody face still smiling in a sick way. “C’mon Angie,” I said as I draped my coat around her, “Let’s take you home.” She seemed oblivious. The bloodied man yelled out, “Stay here, Angela,” and Angela slumped to the floor. I tried to drag her, but she wouldn’t budge. “Angie, c’mon. Come on, Angela.” I kept yelling and tugging at her, but Angela was deadset against leaving, and was not offering any explanation as to why.
I turned back to the booth where the old man was being picked up by his female companions. “What did you do to her?!” I yelled menacingly. “I told her to stay,” he said behind his bloody lip. I leered at him. “I don’t know what kind of hypnotist game you’re playing here,” I said as I grabbed my phone, “but I’m calling the cops.” I started to dial as the man looked at the model and said “Destroy his phone.” She jumped up and tackled me, reaching for my cell phone. I didn’t want to hurt this beautiful woman, but there was something seriously wrong going on. Another companion started pulling me from the other direction and the phone was finally yanked from my hands. In one movement, the model broke my cell in half.
The man gestured to the model, “Hold him,” and then to the second companion, “you too.” The two women were holding me down very well as I tried to break free of their grasp. “You, missy, please lock the door. No one comes in or out.” One of the naked waitresses apparently latched the door shut, and everyone continued to seemingly ignore all of the action as I was held on the floor by two women, the bloodied man and another woman sat in the booth, my Angela was slumped on the floor, naked, for no apparent reason, and at least three waitresses were serving the now-hostaged, and not caring, patrons. The two companions threw me into the booth, but kept a firm hold.
“Now that the formalities are out of the way, I think we can both sit down and exchange questions.” The old man said, wiping the remaining blood off his face. “You’re probably curious as to my influence over these fine ladies.” “I just want the hell out of here, old man!” I bluntly replied. “Well,” he said, ignoring my comment, “I am little more than the King of the World.” King of the World? This man was more messed-up than Angela. “Well, your majesty, get me the f—outta here!” I sarcastically replied. He merely sighed.
“For every generation there is a king. There are no gods, well I suppose there aren’t, but there are flesh-and-blood kings like me. I don’t know if it’s genetic or some ancient magic but no one, ever, anywhere, has the power to disobey me or ignore my orders. Except for you.” He took a sip of his wine. “My predecessor told me about twenty years ago this might happen, and I’ve been waiting for this day many years.” I just looked at him angrily.
“I don’t care about your fairy tale, old man. What is it you want? Why Angela and I leave?” I sincerely asked. “Because I ordered it so. Angela can’t disobey, but you can.” He looked at me long and hard. “Do you have hearing problems?” I continued to leer at him as now four women (the three companions and the attractive waitress) were holding me down. The man simply snapped his hand next to my ear and I jerked from it slightly. “Okay, do you have any learning disorders? low IQ? is English your first language?” I sighed as he continued the inane questioning. Deciding to play this sick game, I replied “I am a college graduate with slightly above average IQ and I was born and raised in Buffalo, New York.” He simply smiled a cruel-looking smile, and said “Good.”
“I played your game, man. I answered all your questions, and you said your piece. Let me and Angela go and you’ll never see or hear of us again.” I was sincere. This craziness was too much. I was no longer mad at Angela for what she did with the man, nor was I even mad at this clearly insane fellow, and just wanted to get the hell out of here. His response: “I intend to, but first I need one more thing from you.” “What?” I said without really thinking. “I need you to deliver on your threat earlier. I need you to kill me.”
“That’s it, I’m outta here.” With all my might I was finally able to struggle free from the three women (one had gone to the bathroom or something), and I slipped under the table and rushed to the door. I didn’t even care about Angela at this point, assuming I could just come back for her later. The door was padlocked shut and then women were rushing toward me. I pushed my way through a couple non-chalantly eating their third serving, and ran to the bathroom. God dammn it, I though t, as I barricaded myself in the men’s room. The window was too small and there was no clear way out. I stood there contemplating my next move as the door continued pounding and pounding.
“Excuse me, son,” The man yelled from behind the door, “but our conversation isn’t over yet.” “Screw you!” I yelled. Maybe if I can rush past the crowd, and make it into the kitchen, I can find a back door or something and get out of here. Or maybe I can just throw a bar stool through the front window. My mind was racing and adrenaline pumping. One of the waitresses unlocked the door and fifteen men and women rushed into the cramped restroom. I was punching and kicking and screaming, but they were pretty much as oblivious as they’ve been. I was plopped right back at the booth. “Sorry about the violence, but I really want to finish our conversation,” the man said. “The one about killing you? That conversation?” He smiled, “Yep” and drank from what appeared to be a chocolate milkshake.
I bit: “Okay, why do you want me to kill you?” “I have a burden,” he said, “and only you can relieve it.” “You’re suicidal?” I questioned. “In a way, I guess. Of course, I could kill myself anytime. But I want to know my successor. To explain the history behind my kingship and tell him, tell you, the powers you will soon hold.” I just eyed him as he said that, before I gave my response. “The power to make drunk moron chicks into zombies?” He just laughed.
“These drunk morons are quite intelligent. Patricia here was a spelling bee champion , before she became a supermodel.” My eyes just rolled at that statement. “Kimberley, do a backflip.” The brunette companion squeezed around the man and did a backflip in the middle of the bar, narrowly hitting her head on one of the tables. “Impressive, yes? You see, they’re just as smart as they’d be if I wasn’t around. I don’t, and you won’t, make any of them dumber, unless that’s your kick. I’m sorry about your girlfriend over there. I didn’t realize you were immune.” My ears perked up. “Immune?” He smiled and sipped his straw.
“My predecessor told me about it. It’s rare, but it happens. I’ve been at this twenty years, and you’re the first I have ever encountered. You can disobey me, ignore me, contradict my orders, but most importantly, you can get my powers if you kill me.” I sighed and angrily retorted. “I don’t want any damn powers, you old fool!” He sipped the last of his drink, making a loud slurping noise. “I don’t think you fully understand. It’s not about sex, or money, or even power. If you want to, say, end a war, you could just walk into the White House and tell the President to end it. If you want to solve an unsolved case, you just interview the suspects, and they will always give you a truthful answer. You could have Bill Gates donate all his money to UNICEF, for Christsakes, whatever you dream of.”
“At the price of your blood, old man.” I was not liking this idea one bit, and his fairy tale wasn’t selling it. He sighed, “I’d be an honored sacrifice.” I stated the obvious, “Why don’t you do these things?” He motioned for another drink, “I have. But I can’t forever. You seem like a nice, responsible young man. I’d hate for my sucessor to be some sex-crazed violent idiot. The world could denigrate into chaos. You see, I’m just as mortal as the next guy, and I’m not telepathic or reality-changing. All I do is ask or tell someone to do something, and they have an uncontrollable urge to do that thing. And people have an inclination toward ignoring me and all my actions. Even on TV!” he yelled excitedly, as if he’d never said these things before. “But enough with the talk, let’s get down to business. Veronica?”
My eyes widened as a huge butcher knife was placed into my hand. “No! I can’t, I won’t!” Veronica and three others were holding me tight as they pulled me out of the booth toward the old man. “Aim for the heart, please,” he said smiling. He looked like this was a dream come true. The four pushed me into him, Veronica helping ‘guide’ the knife into his chest cavity. You could imagine what happened next. As the man fell down, I was in disbelief. I started sobbing. This crazy suicidal man had made me do the worst thing I could imagine. For some crazy hallucination he had about being ‘King of the World.’ I had to think fast. Maybe he wasn’t crazy? I was feeling different. Maybe I did have powers.
I looked around. Everyone was ignoring the fact that I just killed a man. There was the couple, eating what I assume to be their fourth serving at a now replaced table. There was Angela, sitting on the floor naked. Veronica, Patricia, and Kimberley were all seated at the booth now and the waitresses were still wandering around naked, doing their job. One obviously stepped over the dead body, and ignored the pool of blood. I turned to the attractive waitress. “Drop your tray.” She did immediately, the couple she was serving not caring one bit. “Clean up this mess.” “Yes, sir” was her only reply as she went into the back to get some cleaning supplies. She came back moments later with an old rug to roll the man into. “Woah, woah, woah. Where are you taking him?” I asked. “The dumpster, probably.” I had a feeling no one would care if he ended up there.
“Angie,” I turned and said, “Why are you naked?” “Because that man asked me to take my clothes off,” was her simple reply. I sighed, “You can put your clothes back on, but after you suck that man’s penis.” I said, nodding to the man in the couple who were eating their fourth serving. I had no pleasure from this action, but I needed to test my ‘power’ on someone I knew. And since Angela for sure didn’t come from some ‘cult town’ or whatever this might be, she’s the perfect guinea pig outside of the possible hypnotism. Without question, she remained on the floor and crawled over to the man, unzipping him and pulling out his unerect penis. She immediately began sucking away, bringing him to erection immediately. For his part, he showed little signs of caring and his wife didn’t seemed bothered by the under-the-table activity one bit. He hit the table when I assumed he shot his load. By that point I was at the front door. I was King of the World.