I was called out on using Mr. Wait's 9th and Hennepin.
But the place I used it to mask is real. It's the stage, as it were. You'll find it in the City if you look hard enough.
But like my name. It's as real as the rest of me, a careful mosaic over a face that barely obscurs, but still leaves unrecognizable.
It's a quiet night. The mic stand is quiet, closed up for the evening. Friday night's are not for the open mic, those are on tuesdays, except for the off months, on which they are wendsdays.
The bar is mostly empty because he's in, tonight.
The one's on His side of the board, the one's who really need this place can't stand it when he's in here.
At the bar is a man with the most outrageous hat, a beer belly the size of at least a twenty four pack, two bottles of wine, and maybe a pitcher or two in there somewheres.
He calls himself Hellsing sometimes.
We're the only ones in the bar tonight. Doc's off the bar.
"There are those who call me the dark sword of torment. When I see evil, I destroy it with my terrible vengeance! I am known for my impossible skill, able to deflect a bullet with my skull. Totally did that. Doctor's said it glanced right off, I was back to hunting that target the next day! Yeah! I'm the best there is at what I do, and what I do is proxy hunting! Ever heard of proxies, son?"
The Man pushed up his rediculous hat with the mouth of his bottle and then took another plug, the rain dripping off his large body like it was fleeing from him, trying to escape his body. I couldn't blame them.
The worst part is every week I tell him I work for the other team and every week he throws a fit and tries to start a fight, and then runs away. He does this Every Week. I guess he's just lonely.
"They're evil man, totally evil. They're bitches of a faceless guy in a suit. Their minds are weak, but they are cunning. They're fond of riddles and codes, and they're not bad in a scrap. BUT THE DARK SWORD OF TORMENT CANNOT BE STOPPED BY SUCH BUTTFUCKERY! Is that a word? It better be a word. It's totally a word. Yeah! I've hunted about five so far. Only one has escaped. The other two sort of got arrested, or I got arrested and they admitted they just couldn't handle me, and of them...I think he was a proxy. He talked about mudkips a lot, so I assumed preemptively that he was from Something Awful where this thing first showed up. Mudkips are a Something Awful thing you know. Anyways, I decked him, and told him never to follow me again. Then I took his glasses and stomped on them. He cried for mommy, but I didn't care. No proxy is fooling me"
I turned to The Girl and motioned for a Blue Moon. Ideally, there would also be an orange, but Doc's too cheap for fruit. Not in his establishment.
"You're looking at me awfully funny. What are you laughing at?! Proxies are real man! Maybe it was mudkips last time. Next time, they'll be talking about "Epic Fail" and their "memes". But make no mistake, they're after me. They know I know their secret. They know I can follow in the footsteps of our great leader, Zero, and crush them where they hide."
He took off his hat and the sack of shit actually had tears in his eyes. Goddam.
" And once they're gone, the faceless guy is NOTHING. I'll totally kill him with my bare fucking MANLY HANDS."
He lifted his sausage fingers and sweaty hands into the air like a toddler. An angry toddler.
"Do you question. The power. Of. My. BARE. FUCKING. MANLY. HANDS?!"
"Goddam, crazy keep it to yourself" The Girl says. She's not as used to this as the rest of us are, rest her soul.
"INSANE?! I'm fucking amazing! I am the dark sword of torment! I am HELLSING, who takes power from the souls of every man he slays! But not women. That'd just be fucked up. In any case, proxies can't be women, I think, which is pretty nice."
She rolls her eyes, and spits into his bottle expertly as he turns to face me again, still rambling. I've finally had enough, though.
"Jesus Dickless, fuck off. You know who I am! I'm the same fucking guy you do this too every week! The Phantom Proxy of Broadway! The Actor Agent!"
The Girl sighed heavily and began rumaging under the bar.
"MY NAME IS RICHARD! I... I...I'll crush you! But I need to get my mighty sword, in the style of Zero's, from my car. I'll be back in five! Count them! Five minutes!"
He flees the bar and runs back into the rain. Another Dog lost in the night, his scent being washed away by the rain. No one will know where he came from and where he went into the night.
I hope he's here next time in spite of myself.