“Bartender, another scotch!” he yelled into the air.“Don’t you think you’ve had enough, sir?” asked the young barkeep.“It’s only my fi...st one, but yes I’ve had enough,” as he brought the newspaper to the bartender’s nose. “Now be a good lad and pour me another drink.”His legs slackened. His eyes became heavy and bloodshot. His breath fumed.“A killing here and a killing there, smart people up, dumb people down, blacks on one side, whites on another, hatred and fear: heads, love and goodwill:. ..Perhaps it shouldn't have been a surprise to find that the majority ofthe kitchen staff hadn't bothered to come in yet.In fact, there was only a singular figure in the kitchen. She wasperhaps a little on the small side, standing at about five foot three.She had long orange hair that ran all the way down to her mid-back andgolden horns that rose from the sides of her head before sweepingbackward. She wore a simple gray halter top, backless to allow for theleathery red wings that were folded. More

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