Brandon Twice
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Big Barney's Bouncer Blues [repost]
🕑 Added 2023-03-25 20:03:40 +0000 UTC[This is a REALLY OLD but really great story I wrote a LONG time ago, reprinted here because I thought of a pretty good idea of how to continue it. Enjoy!]
Big Barney's Bouncer Blues
It was only 8 o'clock and Barney already had a potential brawl in the bar that he’s got to diffuse. As he rushed inside, wedging his barrel-shaped body through the clusters of drunk college kids, it dawned on him that was only 8 o'clock and Barney already had a potential brawl in the bar that he’s got to diffuse. As he rushed inside, wedging his barrel-shaped body through the clusters of drunk college kids, it dawned on him that this scuffle might be his own fault.
Barney was the head bouncer at the Draft, where entitled kids with heir dads’ credit cards drank $1 well drinks until they couldn’t even stand. He worked the front door, maintained the line outside, and ID’d the little shitheads as they came in. “I take shits bigger than these fuckers,” Barney often thought as he compared his bulky powerlifting frame to the bony kids in skinny jeans walking in and stumbling out.
That night Barney saw Craig Oxfelter, the star left tackle of the university team, approach the front door with his hot little blond girlfriend. Of all these little runts, Ox, as Barney called him, was the only one he can respect. He was 325 lbs of shaven-headed athletic steel, and at 6’ 6" tall, towered over his peers. Even Barney felt a little tinge of intimidation when he shook Ox’s big bearpaws. On top of being an absolute beast, Ox was polite and respectful, even though he could fold most of these kids (and, to be honest, Barney himself too) in half with little effort. So Barney waved Ox and his sweet little girl over and let them cut the line. “Thanks Bar,” Ox said with a massive fist bump.
Of course, this little blonde-haired fratkid, acting like he had big arms in a size S tank top, had something to say. “What the fuck is this? Big fucking caveman gets to cut the line but we gotta wait?”
Barney knew the kid’s name: Clifford York the third. He’d tossed him and his two little lackeys Ben and Paul, who were at that moment rallying to their buddy’s side in their equally unimpressive tank tops, out of the bar a handful of times before.
“Easy little guy,” Barney said to Clifford as Ox and his girl strode into the bar. “When you’re the big man you can call the shots, got it?” The three frat boys roiled a little to themselves but seemed to get over it.
Until later, when the bouncer Barney called Hawkeye (because nothing ever escaped him) saw the three frat boys confronting Ox near the dance floor. Ox and Clifford were chest to chest (or rather, chest to stomach, since Ox towered over his opponent) when Barney got there so he immediately put his brawny body between them. It was a rare sight, Ox moving toward violence off the field. Normally he was a peaceful giant everybody loved, or at least knew better than to screw with.
“I’m getting real sick of having to toss you guys out of here,” Barney said to Clifford and his sidekicks.
“That’s bullshit. You automatically side with the big mongoloid?” chirped Clifford. Guys like him, who did crunches and curls and called it a day, loved to mouth off to bigger dudes. If the big dude walks away he’s a pussy. If he swings he’s a bully. Barney was tired of little fucks like him, but since he was on the clock, he decided to be diplomatic.
Turning to Ox (and a little worried, because Ox was barely putting any force in and Barney still had trouble holding him back), “You don’t want this, Ox. You’ve got too much going for you. And they don’t want this either, big man,” Barney said, thumbing at the three underfed guys behind him and eyeing up the big bald lineman, who was big and solid as a brick wall. “They know you’d squash these fuckers with one hand!”
“I’d like to see him try!” Cliff shouted. He reminded Barney of a little yippy dog. “Me and my boys would cream that dumb ape.” Barney tried to surpress a smirk.
“C'mon, Bar, they’ve been heckling me since we came in, harassing my girl,” Ox rumbled in his deep voice.
“You’re better than these little pipsqueaks,” Barney said. “Just head to the bar and grab a drink for yourself and your lady, on me, and ignore these Mosquitos.” Ox shook his head, grabbed his girl’s hand and headed to the bar. Then Barney turned to the frat trio. “You guys start any more trouble in my bar and I’m banning you for good.”
Clifford leaned forward to retort, but his buddy Ben grabbed him and whispered something in his ear. Then all three of them got these shit-eating grins that made Barney want to knock them all out right there. But then they bowed their heads and dispersed back into the crowd. “No more troubles in the bar,” Clifford said in his weaselly voice.
Back at the front door, Hawkeye spotted some kids drinking smuggled beers in the line about twenty people back. Hawkeye was a sturdy kid, but Barney decided to handle it. He was roughly the size of a refrigerator with the kind of size only a lifetime of heavy deadlifting can build. He easily yanked the beers away from the punks and one-handed them each into the street. As he returned to his post, Hawkeye looked panicked.
“I just saw Ox follow those three punks out the side door to the alley!” he blurted out. Barney darted around the building to the alley, hoping he got there in time to stop Ox from turning those guys into three messy stains on the wall.
The alley was foggy for some reason (fucking kids and their vapeing), and dark (because Mel, the owner, was too cheap to buy a lightbulb for back there) but as the fog cleared, Barney saw the three frat guys, completely unharmed. Ox was nowhere to be found.
“You punks come out here to fight?” Barney said, looking around for the massive lineman.
“Just to talk,” Clifford said with a smarmy look on his face. “And the big meathead decided he was headed home.”
The story didn’t add up, but nothing about this scene did. “All right, back inside. I’m seriously on my last nerve with you guys.” He let them back in through the back door.
Before he left the alley Barney heard something weird–a high-pitched moaning from behind the alley dumpster. Sure enough, leaned up against the wall back there was a tiny little bald kid, completely wasted.
With a deep sigh, Barney hoisted the kid to his feet. He was light as a feather, couldn’t weigh more than 90 lbs, 5 feet tall if he was lucky. Barney chuckled when the kid’s sleeve fell back to reveal a tribal tattoo that looked ridiculous on his bony arm. “Kids think they can just buy their badassness. Too lazy to lift up a damned weight.”
When he got a good look at the shrimp, stumbling on unsteady legs, he worried that they’d served a minor, but it was just a really small, underdeveloped guy. Barney didn’t remember seeing the kid come through the front door, but then again he was so small he might have just slipped by. The shrimp was completely obliterated, no doubt because a guy that size would be wasted on only a couple of beers. “Can’t drink like the big fellas, can ya little guy?” Barney chided. He really was tired of picking up after little punks who didn’t know their limits.
The shrimp tried to focus his eyes. “Baaaarrrrrr…” he moaned, his voice so high Barney doubted he kid’s testicles had dropped yet.
“No more Bar for you little guy,” Barney said, hoisting the shrimp over his shoulder and walking him out to the front.
Sure enough, the night remained interesting: Hawkeye had seen the frat trio again harassing Ox’s girlfriend, but Ox was nowhere in sight.
“I’ll deal with them,” Barney said. “You take this little guy and get him in a cab and out of my sight.” He handed the shrimp over to Hawkeye like he was nothing.
When Barney saw Clifford getting grabby with Ox’s girl, he took great pleasure in grabbing Clifford by his pencil neck and hoisting him into the air, marching him out the front door. He swung wildly but his Barney barely registered the struggle, or the protests of Clifford’s little lackeys. Barney tossed Clifford on the sidewalk.
“As long as you see me at this front door I don’t ever want you coming back!” Barney declared. A small crowd gathered around to see. Clifford hopped to his feet and Barney hoped he would throw a punch. He couldn’t wait to waste the kid. But Clifford’s two buddies grabbed him, again whispering in his ear, and the fight left Clifford’s body. He dusted himself off and confidently walked away.
As they passed Hawkeye, Clifford stopped to point at the shrimp, who was propped up against the building and barely coherent. The shrimp lunged at the three but Hawkeye easily caught him and pulled him back–a mercy move; even if he’d been stone sober, the frat guys would have easily wasted the little pipsqueak. Barney was thrilled to see the three disappear around the corner.
“I’ve got a cab coming,” Hawkeye said, steadying the shrimp with one hand. “Thing is, the address this kid’s giving me is the football house. No way does he live there.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Barney said. “I’m tired of looking at him.”
Ox’s girlfriend stopped to thank Barney on her way out the door. “Where’s your boyfriend?” Barney asked.
“He left like an idiot to fight those punks and never came back,” she said. “I’m kind of pissed at him.”
Suddenly, for some reason, the shrimp whimpered and reached out for her. Poor guy was struggled to get even a single word out but was too wasted to do even that.
“You know this kid?” Barney asked.
She backed away with a look of disgust on her face. “Never seen him before in my life.” As she walked away, Hawkeye threw the shrimp in a cab. He held one skinny arm out the window as it pulled away like he was reaching for her.
“What a creep,” Barney said, happy to finally have all of this college kid nonsense resolved with his night almost over. “I’d hate to be him when he wakes up tomorrow.”
The rest of the night passed uneventfully, and Barney was thrilled to finally punch out and head home. Tomorrow was a big squat day, and he had to be up early. Still, the night kind of felt unresolved.
In the parking lot Barney spotted the trio again and his adrenaline surged. Clifford was leaning against his car! Now that he was off the clock, with no witnesses, he couldn’t wait to put these punks away.
“I’m giving you one warning to step away from my car, and I’m really hoping you choose to ignore it.” Barney walked slowly now, swinging his huge arms to emphasize his bulk. He couldn’t wait to cream these fuckers.
“I tell ya what,” Clifford said without moving a muscle. “You move me from this spot and we’ll all take off, and you’ll never have to see any of us again.”
Barney snorted. He grabbed a handful of Clifford’s shirt, noticing that the two sidekicks had moved in to flank him.
But before he could do anything further, all three started to chant in some weird language–like Latin played backwards or something. Just the sound of the words made Barney’s head hurt and shocked him breathless. Suddenly a thick fog rolled in around him, so dense Barney couldn’t see anything.
As it slowly dissipated, Barney was shocked to see Clifford, whose shirt he still held in his hand, had gotten huge somehow! Barney was staring up at him–and, he realized in a panic, the two others behind him! He let go of Clifford and stumbled back, disoriented. Then he noticed it wasn’t just the frat guys: his car, all the other cars, the whole parking lot had gotten bigger somehow. Then he looked down and saw an unfamiliar body. Since he was a teen his bulk had impeded his view of the ground, but now his body was narrow and spindly. His clothes had shrunk to accommodate his new body, now the size of a ten year old.
“What? How?” Barney squeaked in his new body’s voice, a pit in his stomach that grew with Clifford’s widening smile.
“A little fraternity magic. A trick we use to get rid of our enemies. So come on, big man. The deal still stands. Move me and we’ll leave.”
Clifford’s flunkies each grabbed one of Barney’s scrawny arms, holding him easily. Little Barney audibly pissed his pants and the three fratboys keeled over with laughter.
