The band harassing Jiggles stops and breaks into laughter at my approaching sight. That's when I notice they are player killers. Do what you want with the freak, but leave my beer alone. My eyes continue to stare at the firkin, ignoring the screams from Jiggles. The player killer draws a war hammer and smashes the oaken barrel with one blow.
Beer soaks the street filling the air with the sweet smells of rich hops and caramelized barley.
I drop to my knees and bury my face into the largest puddle, lapping up the beer. The player killer plants his boot into my bare ass and pushes me over into the pools of ale. The two warriors shove Jiggles McMankleman into the soaked street next to me and walk away, laughing boisterously. I pull myself to my feet and suck some of the ale that has drenched my shirt. Jiggles stands up, wiping the beer-made mud from his clothes.