"...and I popped him twice. Poor bastard looked so surprised it still makes me laugh. " Rollins giggled and took another swig of his beer. The handful of fellows he was drinking with congratulated him and patted him on the back before dispersing around the bar. One of the fellows stayed by his side.
"So how many does that make, detective?"
Rollins grunted and took another swig, "a gentleman doesn't keep track." He let out a loud belch that drew some cheers from nearby fellows. "But I ain't never been accused of being a gentleman."
They laughed together and Rollins put his half-empty beer on the bar. "Keep an eye on that while I hit the head."
Rollins entered the tiny restroom and went about his business at the single urinal. He turned his head slightly when the door opened and someone else entered.
"Sorry, pal, the line forms there unless you're brave enough to go in that filthy stall." He smirked pleased with his witty banter skills.
The stranger moved closer but Rollins was having none of it. "Whoa! This ain't that kinda bar!" He let out a muffled shout as the knife pierced his skin. 24 years on the force and he had only been hurt once. Now he was going to die in Clancy's bathroom.
Rollins fell forward and slumped to the floor knocking the urinal off one of the anchors.
The stranger turned off the light as they exited the disgusting little room.
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