Jet Pack

A scrawny kid with a mop-top of red hair and limbs like a tangle of broomsticks sat at a small computer. He yelped as they kicked open the door, and the keyboard in his lap spun to the floor. Grebok, rarely one to examine his immediate surroundings, marched over to the teen and socked him in the jaw. The gawky teen cried out. “Suck fist, pirate captain!” Grebok said, then turned to Chuckles and gave the thumbs-up. Chuckles, the smart one by only a scant few micrometers of smartness, paused.

Slow night. Snow and sleet came down like slushy piss. The bar was empty but for him and her. But this is where Jonny Stoops found himself, night after night, no matter the weather.