Guys will do anything but go to therapy.

"I'd beat the shit out of you!"

A refrain heard in every realm where alcohol exists and at least two friendly men are drinking.

"Brother, I wish you would. You'd get dog-walked and you know it."

I can't help eavesdropping. Not because the conversation's any good, they're just two seats down with one patron between us. He looks miserable. Choking down a handful of assorted nuts, tapping a finger on the bar to flag another Old Fashioned.

"They've clearly never heard of an inside voice."

That's @Marcus Sheppard. We've been A1 since day one. Best friends since second grade. Genuinely the kindest, most helpful dude I know. He'd kill for me. He'd feel terrible about it, but he'd do it. He's family. Truly.

"Ha. Yeah. …I'd beat the shit out of you, too, though." I clink my Modelo against his Peroni and we both take a swig.

The laugh dies quick. Down the bar, the volume keeps climbing.

"Man, shut the fuck up."

"Make me, motherfucker."

Stools shift. The… considerably smaller one stands up and barely meets his shouting partner's eye line.

"I'm not about to play with you, dog. Sit down."

Now I'm not the only one eavesdropping involuntarily. We're all just doing a good job pretending otherwise. Marcus and I finish the last of our beers. I've got to get home before my wife does. She doesn't know I'm out. Money's been tight lately and she probably wouldn't care for my decision making.

Those two "gentle"men are still going. Past annoying now.

"Yo, you got a cigarette?" Marcus asks.

"You know I haven't smoked in six months."

"Shit. Yeah. My bad."

A pack of Newports slides down the bar top. The miserable man between us and the main event doesn't even look up.

"Take one, kid. Fuck it, take 'em all."

"One's good, man. Thanks." Marcus fumbles for the lighter in his jacket pocket. "Let's head out back while I smoke this, then we can bounce."

We nudge past the two of them on the way out. Can't get gone soon enough.

Backs against the outer wall of the bar, Marcus takes a long drag.

"You know I got that promotion at work… and I can't fuckin' stand working there. Now I'm paid double and I hate the job twice as much."

The alley door slams open and the smaller man comes flying out onto the concrete. He's up before I can process it, back in the doorway, in the face of his… friend? Hard to say at this point.

"Derrick. I swear to God. Touch me one more time and you'll need an Uber tonight, because you won't be able to see the road with both eyes swollen shut."

"All you do is talk shit, Rat."

Rat? No way that's his government.

"ME?"

"Yeah. You. You've never been anything BUT talk."

They say drunk words are sober thoughts.

"I know you've got a shift in six hours," Derrick says. "I don't want you missing it because I lay you out in this alley and leave you here to sleep."

"Fifty bucks."

My head snaps toward Marcus. "What?"

"A hundred."

He's negotiating against himself and I have no idea for what.

Rat looks over, thrown. Guess he didn't realize he had an audience. "What'd you say?"

"A hundred bucks." Louder this time.

"For what?"

"Knock him out."

I laugh. …Oh. He's serious.

"Marcus. What the fuck are you doing?", I ask under my breath.

"I don't know. But I'm a little drunk and I've got some money now." He turns back toward the alley. "Knock him out and I'll put a hundred in your hand right now. You sounded real confident in there. And hell, maybe you take the day off instead of picking up that shift."

Derrick turns his head toward us, annoyed this has gotten so far out of hand. "You want to mind your own business?"

"He ain't gonna do shi—"

BAM.

A right hook lands flush on Derrick's jaw and sends him stumbling into the side of a dumpster. A real sucker punch.

"Oh, fuck. Marcus. Look what you started, bro."

Derrick gathers himself, and the look in his eyes is something I've never seen on a human being before. He is seeing absolute red.

"Uhhh… yeah, maybe this wasn't a good idea," Marcus mutters.

Then he starts walking toward us. US. Not Rat. US. I tell him to stay back.

"Yo, guys, I was just kidding, I'm a little drunk and I was being stupid, so just calm do—OH SHIT!"

—to be continued—