Barstool Sports

The bar flies swarm the young blonde bartender. Thinking they stand a chance with every, “sweetie, honey, darling.” She’s bored of their fat, vile, and ignorance. She’d shoot each one if she could. A well placed barrel under their double chin, giving a wink and a smile. “The first round’s on me.” And squeezing the fucking trigger. But her shift is ending soon and she doesn’t want to mop up excrement, brains, and spilt beer.