S.T.R.A.P 3



The thylacine let out a little grumble as she sat the glass down on the bar, looking up to the bartender.  “I thought you said that this was the good whiskey.”  Willow said shaking her head a little.

“That’s some of the best that we have…  You ever thought that you might have bad taste?”  The male wolf said shaking his head, picking up the glass and putting it in the sink before turning back to the marsupial.  “So how else do you want to tourture me now?”

“Well if you would get me something that can be considered better whiskey, I wouldn’t be such a pain in the ass.  I mean I went through all the trouble of getting dressed up and everything to come here.”  Willow said, pointing out the fact that she had dressed up, putting on her tightest jeans, biker boots, a tight top and a leather jacket, all wrapped up in enough chains and studs to sink a small boat.

“Have you ever thought that you might have bad taste in whiskey?”  A voice called out, causing the thylacine to turn and look to the source, a roster, dressed in more leather than she was.  “I mean, I’ve seen some of the stuff that he’s poured you, it ain’t swill that's for sure.”

“Have you ever thought that you might need to mind your own business?”  Willow hissed out as she looked him up and down, she knew that he was one of the local bikers and that they liked to act all tough and badass, but that was something that she paid no mind to.

“You know, I’m starting to think that this little shit needs to be taught a lesson, or an ass whooping…  Maybe both.”  One of the other bikers spoke up as they got out of their seat.  “I’m sure that we can work something out there.”  The hyena said smiling and licking his chops, trying to be intimidating.