Kiss, Kiss...BANG, BANG {DOM/AL}

[Dominic Wolfe]

You better get up out the way,
Tomorrow we'll rise so let's fight today,
You know, I don't give a fuck what you think or say,
'Cause we are gonna rock this whole place anyway.

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The blood flew, misting the air around the four sweaty bodies that stood menacingly in the narrow alleyway. A whimper from the ground protested the blows reigning down on its owner’s body, but there would be no reprieve in the near future. The grunts of those delivering the blows, the dull slap of shoes and hands against pliant flesh, the low, keening cries of the soon-to-be-deceased; it was all background noise to him, after ten years of living in the bowels of the city’s underground. Almost like a song, if one were to tilt their head and listen close enough.
Hear the knuckles splitting as they hit the cheekbone? That was the clash of the drums. And the groan of pain as the toe of a boot found that innocent left kidney? The beautiful strum of the bass.

The poor schmuk. He really should have paid himinstead of trying to pack his measly things and run for the hills.

His knuckles were raw and throbbing, when he pulled back. His boys continued to go to work on the poor schmo- some low life drug dealer who'd hired The Hoods for extra protection he couldn't afford- as he retired to the street to get some air. Cops were paid off to leave that particular stretch of city road clear for the next few hours, so Dominic and his boys could have as much fun as their little hearts desired.

Lighting a cigarette, a man standing at the end of the alleyway couldn’t help but sigh. The acrid smell of exhaust and Faraway- yes, it did indeed have its own scent, especially on nights like these- assaulted his senses, and he wrinkled his nose against its gassy tendrils. The shiny black of his leather jacket blended in with the shadows surrounding him, and with a good natured grin, he flipped off a few passing pedestrians who looked his way.

Ah, it was good to be alive and prospering. Was there anything better than a late night torture fest? All he needed to make things even better, was some booze, some music, and a pretty face.

Mmmm, yeah, he could use a pretty face to lighten up his mood. Maybe she'd even ooh and aah over his bloody knuckles; that was always a plus. Turning back to his boys- Tommy's kicking wasn't as hard as it used to be; fat fuck needed to go on a diet before he croaked and left his boss one hand short- he waved a hand for their attention.

"I'm goin off for some fun," He informed them, cigarette raining ash on his jacket from the corner of his mouth. "You guys have fun with the fuck. When he comes to, let 'im know that I'm waitin' for my money. He has two days, or I cut off his nuts."
Waving at the answering 'yes, boss' that echoed in the alley, he turned to greet the night, and the dark streets beyond. There had to be some place where he could get his jollies and have a good time. Wandering aimlessly down the street, he scanned the open establishments that lined it. Too preppy looking, too clean, too crowded, not crowded enough…

Finally, amber eyes lit on the notorious ‘Poison Apple,’ and he made a beeline toward the door. Inside there was a familiar haze of smoke and danger, and a smile lit up his face. He made his way to the bar, got comfortable and scanned the crowd.

This was gonna be FUN.

[/center]

[Albert Aldein]

Al had been very upbeat the entire day. It wasn't just the fact that he had the day off from work. Why would it even be a factor? He looked forward to his job. Any chance to get a simple glimpse of the famous celebrities that reside in the hotel was a pretty good motivation for the man. Not to mention that the pay was pretty decent, especially for someone with no educational background. He was in a pretty good mood today because of what had happened earlier today.

A bunch of guys from work invited him over at the Fairy Dust. Honestly, it wasn't the kind of place Al would even think of going to. I mean, sure, he's had a hit before, and he sort of gets some from time to time, but he's not an addict. But his friend just wanted some company, and he figured that he can charge this off as a favor later on. So they got there and while his friend was trying to score some stash from this shady hooded man, he noticed someone. It was an odd-looking girl, wearing a crazy-looking hat. It was the kind of thing that you didn't really forget. Well, the girl was mumbling, and her eyes looked rather bloodshot, so he was pretty sure what was happening to her. She was high, and it wasn't just the normal high. It was like she had been sucking on the blunt for over two hours. Looking around, and noticing everyone else nearby pretty out of it, he took the opportunity. After all, it was staring him at the face. He walked swiftly past them and grabbed the stash placed neatly beside the girl.

Naturally, no one noticed him. He had been doing this since he was a kid, and he had learned to be an expert at sleight of hand. Plus, it did help that his "victims" weren't in the best state of mind. Once he had the stash, he quickly stuffed it in his pocket and made his way back to his friend. He made a quick excuse to leave, saying something about a sick friend, or a dead relative or something. He knew that he couldn't hold on to the drugs for too long. Someone was bound to notice it was missing sooner or later. And the networks at the Fairy Dust was pretty closed. He'd be chewed up alive if they caught him, so he made his way out. He immediately thought of where else he could get rid of it, maybe find another buyer before it could be traced back to him. And he was sure that there would be some in the Poison Apple.

He made his way inside the bar, squinting his eyes a bit as the light slapped his face. He then made his way through the sea of people, looking over for an empty booth, or a lone person. Someone he could easily make a deal with. And there he was. Sitting on the bar in his cool leather jacket. He smirked to himsellf, thinking of how perfect it was. He walked towards the man and took the seat right next to him, ordering a shot of rum from the bartender.

"Rough day?" he asked the man. "I can't remember how long it's been since I just got to lay back and relax, you know. The name's Al, by the way." He nodded at him, before taking the shot and slamming the glass on the bar counter, ordering two more shots. He slid the other one towards the man and raised his own. "Cheers, bud."

[Dominic Wolfe]

Well...when he'd decided to take a load off in the local drinking joint, he hadn't known that he wore a 'please, talk to me!' sign on his forehead. Dominic was surprised for a minute, when a kid turned around to talk to him, and he glanced over his shoulder, thinking that the greeting was directed at someone else.

Hell, most people tended to look at his normally scowling mug and shrink in the opposite direction. Was this kid insane, or on a dare? Either way, he was halfway tempted to start laughing...or ask if he was looking to join a gang. How amusing.

Leaning sideways on the bar counter, Dominic regarded the young man- Al, did he say his name was?- with a raised brow and a severe frown. He just stared at him for a few seconds, as if measuring him up, then shrugged a shoulder and turned toward the smiling bartender. "I s'pose you can call it 'rough,'" He replied, voice a low rumble. "Beating the shit outta people ain't as easy as the movies make it seem. 'S a'lotta work, and normally, the fucker you're hammering on is too bloody to answer your questions."

A martyred sigh escaped him as he took the offered shot. Giving Al a little salute with the small glass, he downed the liquid in one cool swallow. Ah, the sweet burn of hard liquor; it was enough to make him relax a bit. Eyeing the glass, he motioned for the bartender to return, and motioned for her to leave the bottle.

"It's nice t'meet you, Al. My name's Dom. Now...why don't you tell me what you really want, before I get pissed off and smack your face into the bar?" The words were said in a calm, conversational tone, as he gave his new 'friend' his most feral smile.


---
((Bah, sorry if Dom's a bit...insane-o here, Al! He went a little snarly in my head when I was writing this. XD If it doesn't work for you, lemme know and I'll change it.))

[Albert Aldein]

He smiled to himself, seeing the man seemed to respond to him. At least he wasn't ignored outright. Especially considering that usually happens here at the Poison Apple. People always seemed to mind their own business, sticking to their own companions and ignoring the strangers, ever since news of rape incidents spread out through the city. He watched as the man leaned on the counter, looking at him. If looks could have killed, then he probably would have been dead a good five minutes ago, because the guy had been glaring him down like he was already up to no good. Which he wasn't. At least, not yet.

He raised an eyebrow at him, hearing him say something about beating up people. Now, he wasn't surprised to hear that the guy he was talking to had beaten people up. I mean, he did seem like the stereotypical biker bully. He let out a nervous laugh, figuring the man must'ave been just saying things to get him to shut up. However, his eyes fell on his hands as he began to pick up the shot that he had offered. He could see traces of blood stained on the man's knuckles. Al let out a gulp, hoping the man didn't catch it. The last thing he wanted was to let out that he was, at the very least, a bit nervous. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

Al nodded at the man, watching him down the hard liquor like it was a glass of water. From Al's point of view, things were still going on great. After all, Dom, as he introduced himself, seemed to appreciate the drink. But of course, things would never be easy for Albert. It had never been, so he should have expected that things wouldn't have suddenly changed for him this time around. He caught every threatening word that escaped Dom's lips, and he was scared. It wasn't because he sounded aggravated or angry. It was because he was calm about it all. Like 'assault' was second-nature to him.

"Hey," he replied, sounding more confident than how he actually felt, "let's not be too hasty. Is that a way to treat someone who bought you a drink? I don't think so."

Al meant to nudge the man in the shoulder, but fought against it, figuring that doing so might be the easiest way for him to get punched in the face. Seeing as the man didn't seem like he was interested in his whole planned speech, Al decided to go straight to the point.

"Look, man. I'm just trying to do business here. I was just gonna ask if you were looking to, you know..." he lingered, gently revealing part of a small ziplock bag containing a couple of ounces of drugs exposed from his pockets. He tilted his head, urging Dom to look over his merchandise before quickly stuffing it back into his pocket. He looked around, checking to make sure no one else saw what he did before facing his potential client once more. "You interested? I can give you a good deal for it." He waggled his eyebrows before leaning against the bar counter, placing his elbows atop the counter and facing the crowd of faceless people in their midst, waiting for an answer.


---

[ooc: lmfao, insane's all good! I'm getting ideas in my head, but I wanna see how this plays out first before I pm you bout it. lol, hope that's all good with you. XD]

[Dominic Wolfe]

Well...the kid definitely had some balls, Dominic thought with a little tilt of his head. He could tell that 'Al' wasn't exactly thrilled at his reply, nor about the threat that quickly followed...but he had to hand it to him; he accepted each with ease. Was he some kind of grifter? A juvy con-wanna-be that was a toe in for the closest prison cell?

Either way, he kind of liked the kid, for all of his suave cockiness. He reminded him of himself, when he was young and green. How fun would it be to offer him a spot in the Hoods, and watch all that playful innocence drain away? Ooh, he got the shivers just thinking about it!

Pouring himself another shot, the gangster merely raised a brow at his new companion, curiosity evident in his eyes. The nervous laugh made an almost feral smile slide onto his lips, and he tipped his head back to down his drink. He was gonna get friggin' buzzed before the kid even got to the point. Maybe that would save him from a nice face-meet-table.

"Sorry, Al, I just hate small talk," He drawled in reply. He settled back in his stool and propped his foot up on the bottom rung of the younger man's seat. "It never does anything but waste my valuable time. I do appreciate the drink, though. That's why, if you keep on shooting hot air up my ass, I'll only break a few of your teeth and not the whole set."

Another salute with his newly filled shot was directed in the other man's direction, before it was downed. And, with the burn sliding through his chest, the kid finally decided to get to the point. Damn, he'd been wrong; he was nowhere near his usual buzz before the offer was delivered...and huh, it was definitely not what he'd been expecting. When Al had wandered over, all smiles and playful sarcasm, Dominic had been expecting some kind of sell; maybe a watch, or a pretty girl in the back. But drugs? The gangster had to peer at his fellow bar-goer with a raised brow, after inspecting the dusty wares in his hand. The innocent looking kid was actually trying to make a drug deal in the middle of a crowded bar. It did happen, but...hell, man. There was no finesse, no way to know if the sale was legit. What if he were working with the local uniforms, looking to make their monthly quota?

With a sad shake of his head, Dom leaned the side of his head against awaiting knuckles. "Do I look like a dust-head?" He asked a bit curiously, glancing down at himself. "But I gotta give you a hand, kid; you're pretty brave coming up to the most dangerous lookin' guy in the bar and trying to make a sale. But what if I'm a cop? What if I'm a drug dealer who don't like little schmo's like you trying to bust into my territory? You gotta think about that, when you try to make a sale, little man."

He just looked at Al for a minute, once again giving him a critical once over. But then, quite suddenly, a wide smile broke over his lips. Sitting up, he gave him a little manly slap on the arm, and turned back to his drink.

"I like you, kid; you got balls. Tell me...how much is a 'good deal?' Then maybe we can talk about an offer I got for you."

---

((It's perfect! And WHOOT, ideas are love. Can't wait to hear 'em! -wiggles- ^__^ ))

[Albert Aldein]

Dom didn't seem too horrible. Well, that was if you took away the evil, I'm-gonna-kill-you stare, the gritting, malicious grin, and the random casualty of street violence. He actually seemed to be pretty decent, for a shady stranger he had just met on the bar. He at least felt as though he was making some kind of progress, in terms of the sell. But again, the man seemed rather impulsive, so he couldn't really tell for sure.

He watched his reaction intently, trying to gauge whether or not he would be able to close a deal with the man. After all, if he wasn't, then he would have to start looking for another patron. He didn't want to keep the drugs on him for too long. He'd rather get rid of it, and quickly. The man seemed oddly surprised at his offer. Was this not how drug dealers did it? Sure, he didn't know how to deal properly, but surely he was doing most of it right.

He laughed at his response. Did he look like a dust-head? Not at all. But at times like these, you never really know. Plus, he did look like someone who knew people. It was one of the reasons he chose him, to be honest. Aside from the fact that he was the easiest to approach without arousing suspicions.

"Well, if you're a cop, then you would already have known who I was even before telling you my name. And I probably would have, at the very least, seen you already, seeing as I've spent quite a few nights in juvie back in the day. But thanks. I'll take note of that. Didn't really think that other dealers might be here too." Al replied, nodding in appreciation. He took the advice willingly, seeing as the man seemed to know a lot about those kind of things.Pondering for a moment, he leaned closer to Dom, letting out a whisper. "Are you a dealer?"

He laughed rather nervously as the man hit him on the arm. Well, seeing him in good spirits was definitely better than him threatening to break his nose or knock out a couple of his teeth. But still, he didn't feel quite at ease. Somehow, he knew things were just far from over.

"I can give this to you for around two grand. It's a hundred gram stash, so you're getting quite a discount there," he said, answering his query. There he was, just waiting for him to say yes to the deal. Then he could rush on home, maybe have his first good meal in a while, and just relax. Enjoy the temporary wealth that he had. But the night was young, and from what it seemed, Dom had other plans. He scratched his head nervously and let out a weak laugh.

"...an offer? Well, um, let's hear it."


---

[ooc: LMFAOO Yes! I will deffo PM you ideas! but not yet! later on! i love ze plotting! *plots* ]

[Dominic Wolfe]

Damn, but he was getting to like this kid. Dom had given him some sage advice, and Al had taken it all in and returned fire. He had a quick wit, a good eye for marks…and obviously a good sense of humor. Eyeing the pocket that the drugs had been put into, the gangster could only smirk.

Two grand for a baggy full of drugs whose potency he didn’t know about. Oh, yeah sure; THAT would work out. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, the gangster merely downed another shot and took a minute to gather his thoughts.

When Al leaned forward to whisper at him, he couldn’t help but get a bit tense, as if readying himself for a fight. But when the question came forward, he could only lean back with a thoughtful expression on his face. How to answer that question without making the kid feel threatened…hmm. Because, in all truthfulness, the fact that Al was trying to deal in the area that The Hoods liked to call their territory, he was actually breaking a few cardinal rules.

At the same time, however, he wanted to pitch his new deal just right. He could always use a guy like Al in his little operation. He was a bit scrawny to be used for muscle gigs, but he seemed like he’d be quick enough to do recruiting himself. He normally left that for his daughter, but with that innocent face and sharp wit…oh yeah, he had to make the offer and score this kid. The guy was a diamond in the rough; he could smell it.

And Dom needed all the smart guys he could find, in his business. Especially how that he was planning on branching out farther into the city.

Leaning forward a bit, so he could speak without having to pitch his voice over the din around them, he finally answered. “I’m not a dealer, persay,” He said with a little grin. “But I do employ them. I’ll buy your little stash, Al…but only if you agree to sell it on the street for me. I need smart kids like you to represent me and my operation out in the city. And with your brains and quick wit, I can see you easily moving up in the world. How’d you like to take in twenty times your asking price, each week?”

Thinking that he should give the kid a minute to think, he poured himself another shot and downed it.

[Albert Aldein]

Al tried to contain his smiles as he listened to what Dom was saying. He had never really been complimented by anyone, moreso by someone he didn't even know. But somehow, he felt the words weren't just a cling-on to manipulate him. He could feel that there was a hint of sincerity in his voice. However, he did his best not to show him that all the flattering was actually working. The last thing he needed was for him to think that Al was an easy boy to toy around with.

He waved at the bartender, asking for another shot, and within seconds, his shotglass had been filled to the brim with the golden liquid. He picked it up and raised it, looking over to Dom before downing the shot instantly. He made a face, feeling the intense bitterness traverse its way down through his system. He let out a short breath, hoping that whatever he was hearing, he was hearing right.

Was it true? Was he looking to hiring someone he had just met? Al knew he wouldn't be fit in the drug business. I mean, besides the fact that he knew nothing about them, he knew it was an extremely dangerous place to get into. He'd seen enough movies to know those hardly ever meant well. But again, those were movies. In movies, people ended up happy. This was real life. And he knew he had to do what it took for him to survive. Plus, if he heard right, he could earn twenty times his asking price? That's a whole lot of money. Enough to live him a lifetime.

"Well, man, I'm not really into the whole drug business. I was hoping it would just be this one time thing, you know. But..." he paused for a bit, pondering. His better judgement told him not to but he could already see the lifestyle that would become his if he had said yes. With the promise of earning a thousand a week, at the very least, no one would look at him the way they do now. He would be able to live the life. And maybe be able to take Jasmine out on a decent enough date.

He gently rubbed his chin, a hundred thoughts racing his mind. He stopped for a moment, thinking how long he had before he gave Dom an answer, but then figured the man probably wouldn't wait too long. He seemed like a busy guy, and as he so forcefully mentioned, he didn't like his time being wasted. So, only thinking about how an opportunity like this probably wouldn't come around ever again, and not about the consequences that might trickle down from it, he spoke.

"What exactly would my job description include?"

[Dominic Wolfe]

Hell yeah, he’d snagged the kid. Dom resisted the urge to reach a hand over his shoulder and start patting himself, as obvious interest flashed onto Al’s face. He could practically hear the dollar signs pop up in that shaggy head, and bit back a wide grin. And Lilah liked to say that he had no finesse; no people skills. Ha, this would definitely show her that he was as capable of recruiting the younger mooks than he was with ‘convincing’ others to join his group.

Score one for the D-man. Oh yeah.

With a low chuckle when a look of pure disgust came onto the kid’s face after downing his shot, the gangster reached over to refill it with his own little bottle of booze. If he wanted to hang around Dom and the boys, he’d have to learn to appreciate his hard liquor, after all. None of the Hoods went with that ‘fruity’ crap, and Al would probably get the crap beat out of him if he was caught sucking down anything weaker than tequila.

…Then again, he’d probably get beaten on anyway, given the initiation ceremony. Dom liked to welcome his new recruits with open arms and closed fists, to ensure that no one would ever dare turn on him. He’d gone through enough of that bull crap when little Johnny Wiseman tried to get on his good side, then sell him out to his enemies. The young man had had so much promise, just like Al. Now, he was wasting those precious talents ten feet underneath the Wolf Den.

Hopefully, the young man in front of him wasn’t going to be so stupid, and thus the need for some heft initiation. With a broken bone and the promise of torture, his boys were quick to keep in line.

“There’s what I wanna hear,” He said with another friendly arm-thwak. Downing his own refilled shot, he played with the tiny glass. “If you ain’t comfortable with the sell, you don’t have to do it; I got guys who specialize in the dust business. What you’d be responsible for would be…acquiring information on persons of interest, making sure my deliveries get to where they need to be, and maybe some recruiting down the road, if you see someone who could do me any good.”

From his inner pocket, he slid out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up for himself, taking in a healthy drag. “Basically, you’ll be my eyes and ears on the street, since I’m usually too damn busy to do the foot work m’self. So wadaya think, Al? You in?” With a flick of his wrist, a cigarette popped up in the half empty pack in his hand, and he offered it to his companion.

Like a deal with the devil, he thought with a grin. Except he wasn’t asking for blood…yet.

[Albert Aldein]

A smile began to form in Dom's face, and as it seemed, it was because of his response. His spirits seemed to have lightened up, and he could tell that various scenes were playing in his head. He had just hoped that the man's enthusiasm would remain throughout the rest of the night. For his sake, at least. He watched silently as the man refilled his own glass to the brim. No longer waiting for the bartender, he grabbed one of the bottles behind the counter and filled his glass, taking the shot instantly.

Though he hadn't officially said 'yes' yet, he was pretty sure that he wanted in. Things like these never presented itself twice, and he'd be stupid not to go for it. But of course, he wanted to know what would be required of him, just to be on the safe side. He felt another nudge in the arm, and he let out a smirk. It seemed like a workable job. After all, he didn't have to sell anything. He wasn't good at that. But getting information? Delivering things? Recruiting people? Those, he could do. Way better than he could sell anything. But what kind of information would he need? And what did he mean, recruiting people? What was he recruiting them for? In any case, he was going to find out soon anyway.

"It sounds manageable enough," he replied. In fact, being the 'eyes and ears' of someone seemed easy enough. Easier than lugging other people's baggage up and down a hotel. Hey, if it meant being able to live in a warmer apartment, then what was there left to think about. His eyes darted downwards to a pack of cigarettes Dom was holding. He really didn't smoke out of habit, but since today was a special occasion, he figured he might as well.

"So, when do I start, boss?"

Taking one stick from the pack, he lit it up instantly and pressed the filter against his lips. Al inhaled, feeling the smoke rise in his chest, a cool menthol sensation filling his throat, before he puffed out a cloud of smoke. There was no turning back now.

[Dominic Wolfe]

Well hell, he'd really done it! He'd snagged himself a kid to fill his ranks. Oh, he was going to have to find his daughter and have a good laugh about this one later; the girl was always saying that he sucked at interpersonal relations. Take that, supposed sociopathic tendencies!

With a wide smile on his face, Dom tucked the pack of cigs in his pocket and leaned back. Lifting his shot glass off of the napkin beneath, he dragged a pen out of his pocket and scribbled down the address to the Den. "Be there at 8 tomorrow night," He said in reply, sliding the napkin toward the younger man. "Don't be packing, and bring your little stash, there. You can hand it off to one of my other guys, and recieve payment then. And you can start collecting your...future paychecks once we get through with your initiation."

Taking a deep drag on his cigarette, he gave Al's arm one last smack, then turned back to his bottle. "Welcome to The Hoods, kid. You're family now."

Once the declaration was made, the gang boss waited for the imminent reply. Hopefully Al wasn't thinking that his 'operation' was some legit company. He didn't think the kid was that stupid, but...well, he'd been wrong before. If he tried to back out now, to backpeddle away from the offer of joining a gang known for leaving bodies strewn across Faraway City, Dom was going to get a bit irritated.

He really didn't want to have to kill the little street rat. Al was just so...pah, he couldn't put his finger on it, but he liked him. He had some kind of charisma that made the gangster want to take him under his wing.

After downing another shot- ah, now THERE was the buzz- he glanced at Al again out of the corner of his eye. "Oh yeah, and being that you're now a part of the family, if you got problems with anyone; a landlord, a past employer...whoever you got those drugs from, you just lemme know and I'll make 'em disappear. One thing about being in The Hoods, kid, is that we watch your back, if you watch ours."

[Albert Aldein]

Al took another long drag from the cigarette from Dom. He couldn't remember the last time he had a smoke, but he instantly remembered why he didn't do it again. He felt the smoke clog up in his throat, just lingering there, almost mockingly. He felt a cool, minty sensation, causing him to let out a cough, though he tried to pass it off as a hoarse-sounding laugh. He didn't want his new employer to think of him as a 'boy'.

He watched patiently as the man pulled out a pen from his pocket and began scribbling something on a piece of napkin he had gotten from the bar. He took the note from his and stared at the address, wondering if the place rung a bell. It didn't. Either way, he was sure he'd find it. He stared at the note once more before stuffing it into his pocket, carefully listening to the instructions being given to him. He set the cigarette down when he heard... Nah, it wasn't. He must have heard wrong. Initiation? That didn't seem right. He shrugged, figuring it was something like 'building good relations'.

He felt another blow on his arm, and he just let out a reaffirming grunt. "Thanks, sir!" he replied, not really knowing how to address the man next to him. He figured sir was the most amiable response, until he had settled in for a bit. But what Dom had said struck him. You're family now. He took in the words, and the tip that was given to him. This was it. He had immunity. If he wanted to walk away scratch-free from things, he had a ticket. And it felt rather great, actually. Not that he would actually resort to crying out to the 'gang' if he got in trouble, but it was just nice to have the safety net.

"Problems? I've got tons of those," he laughed innocently, joking around at his offer, before changing his tone into a serious one. "Thanks! You won't regret this." He took one last shot, before heading towards the door of the Poison Apple. Before he reached too far, he turned around and shouted over the noise, "Eight o'clock! I'll be there!"