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A Man Called Bronson
posted Tuesday, 6 March 2007
A Brief Excerpt From 1977's Brick Bronson and the Wino Strangler by Stoney M. Badess
“Vilmos!” shouted Brick. “Another double!”
The bartender looked at his drunken customer and shook his head.
“You’ve had enough, Mr. Bronson. I think it’s time you went home to your wife.”
“That werewolf bitch? She’d bite my head off. Literally.”
“Either way. You should go home.”
“I have no home and I want a fucking double!”
Vilmos had never seen Brick like this before. Then he remembered the date.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Bronson, I forgot what day it was,” he apologized as he poured out a double scotch.
“To Timmy,” Brick toasted tearfully, "that brave little bastard."
The bartender looked at his drunken customer and shook his head.
“You’ve had enough, Mr. Bronson. I think it’s time you went home to your wife.”
“That werewolf bitch? She’d bite my head off. Literally.”
“Either way. You should go home.”
“I have no home and I want a fucking double!”
Vilmos had never seen Brick like this before. Then he remembered the date.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Bronson, I forgot what day it was,” he apologized as he poured out a double scotch.
“To Timmy,” Brick toasted tearfully, "that brave little bastard."
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