Buscemi

That's my brand. Oh, this is damn good! Say, this is the best beer I've ever had. Actually...

I'm just glad to be alive right now. I was up a few towns away- you know Saragosa? I was visiting a bar there, not unlike this one. They serve beer, not quite as good as this, but close. And I saw something you wouldn't believe. I'm sitting there, see, small table all by myself. Now this bar, it's full of real low-lives. I mean, not like this place here. No, I mean bad. Like they were up to no good, know what I'm sayin'? Anyway, I'm all by myself, I like it that way. Meanwhile, things are going on... under the table kinds of things. Not too obvious, but, not too secret, either. So, I'm sitting there, and in walks the biggest Mexican I have ever seen. Big as shit. Just walks right in like he owns the place. Now, nobody knew quite what to make of him, or quite what to think. There he was and in he walked. He was dark, too. I don't mean dark-skinned. No, this was different. It was as if he was always walking in a shadow. I mean every step he took towards the light, just when you thought his face was about to be revealed, it wasn't. It was as if the lights dimmed, just for him.

Just try and keep it from turning into a fucking bloodbath, all right? Not like last time.

The stranger shot him, walked over to the bartender, paid, and left.

Now, I wasn't interested in his drink. No, I was more interested in what he was carrying when he walked in. Some sort of a suitcase, kind of heavy. And he sat that thing on a stool beside him as if it were his girl.

Suddenly they got very interested in who you were. So, I laid the story down nice and thick.

So, anyway, without warning, without any hint or preview, the stranger whips around, and he sees… me.

Ya know, one of these days you're gonna lie down too hard on that thing and blow your brains out.