The vulpine growled, grabbing his old favorite drink- a bottle of Leinenkugels Red Lager. Smashing off the cap on the wall, he takes a deep draught. climbing up into the rafters of the tavern to look over the whole scene. He was almost disgusted by the difference between the state the place was in when he started coming here, and what it was now. Where was Timber? The bartending abrams tank with fur? Where was the massive dragons being used as couches for dozens of sexy naked felines? Where were the random, anonymous people stepping in and immediately fucking the living daylights out of each other? He sighed, taking another drink. Not even a good gunfight anymore... and the strip poker... oh the wonderful games of strip poker, and the interesting scenarios he'd found himself in the mornings after. Now, it seemed, the only times people even talked to him was to insult his heterosexuality, or try to say that not wanting a dick up his ass meant he wanted to kill gay people... not that he didn't- he enjoyed killing all kinds of people- he just wasn't into fucking males.
"Damn..." he muttered, taking another drink of his booze. "once a perfectly available meatstick- getting more pussy than i knew what to do with... now- jacking off into a cup for dudes..." he spat in disgust as he drank more, leaning against the thick oak rafter and looking up at one of the many patched-up holes in the ceiling. "This place was a party, now it's a ghost town..." he muttered to himself, starting to feel the alcohol take some effect- though it still was not helping, "Damn... and to think i used to try [i]avoiding[/i] threesomes every now and then... Damn I miss those orgies..." he downed the last of his booze and threw the bottle angrily to the ground, dumbly jumping as it shattered on the floor. "fuck.." he cursed under his breath, holding his head, "Nothing's the same anymore... fuck, fuck, fuck..."
With somewhat of a disgusted face, the fox jumped down from the rafters- his surprisingly well-toned legs slamming into the thick floorboards with a resounding boom that shuddered the walls. He looked around. Nobody noticed him, nobody ever noticed him. Since he'd gone sober this place was more boring than watching paint dry... Which he could say with full honesty, being one who'd once taken the time to sit on his ass and watch paint dry. He growled at the lowly, boring state of this once home of corruption and pleasure. He stalked over to the bar, grabbing yet another lager, the cap shooting off without even being touched. Paying this no mind, as he understood by now the many rifts in time and space within the tavern, he knocked back a heavy draught once more, the burn of the lager stinging his mouth and throat- but still he chugged, draining the entire bottle on the spot. His frustration was now boiling into fury, and he was reaching the figurative end of the rope. He blinked- suddenly recalling his first few visits to the tavern... "is it still there...?" he whispered to himself, looking into the booth in the back. He walked over, the perpetually dark booth was the most infamous corner of the tavern, or so it had once been.
Reaching carefully under the table, Laffin feld his clawed fingers brush against the artistically engraved handle of his old knife- The TavernDweller... There were but 2 things which satisfied him when he was like this... sex, and violence. Spinning swiftly, he turned and- opening the knife with a light twitch, he threw it underhandedly into a dartboard across the room, the blade nearly slicing through three furs ears as it went. Growling, Laffin muttered, "These big-eyed, empty-headed, paw-licking, [i]idiots[/i] wouldn't know an orgy if they were hit by a stray female-cumshot!".
He shrugs, running a paw through his hair. He barely looked up as a male said something about "not playing with knives, but with friends..." or something of the sort. It didn't matter. There were an annoyingly small number of females to 'play' with, and he was seemingly bursting with testosterone... "God damn this place..." he growled angrily, walking back o the bar for another drink. "The fuck do I even come here anymore... this bullshit isn't worh it" he said, hopping the bar and helping himself to a third lager. "God damn... I'm about to rape a bitch..." he growled, knowing that by the end of the night, he'd go on a killing spree, or start an orgy, or die trying... or possibly some combination of them. It wouldn't be the first time, probably not the last, either. He took a hefty swig, his vision blurring a bit from the booze. He stood there, scowling and thinking before shrugging, stepping forward, and shouting out, "OY! HOW MANY AH' YOU CUNTS ARE UP FOR AN ORGY!?". As soon as he said it- he knew it wouldn't work. The few women and straight guys still left here were too much of a bunch of pansies to do anything, and the majority of furs here, being gay, would probably try to rape him. Good... he thought, at least i'll finally get a decent bloodbath... He looked around, holding his head in annoyance. "Of course, nobody noticed..." he muttered. Not even a naked fox screaming for an orgy could summon a single horny wolfess in a place that used to have more public sex thasn he ould shake his dick at.
Laffin growled, "Damn, I miss the days of random chicks drugging every guy they could get to rape them, I miss the watersports addicted vixens chaining themselves to urinals- fuck- i'm not even INTO that shit..." he drinks the rest of his lager and rambles on, "I miss the hot felines taking on five guys at once and then begging for more, I miss the random sexual encounters on the sofas, GOD-DAMNIT! I MISS 2011!"
He stood, fuming a moment, and looked around slowly, his chest pounding, and his cock rock hard with adrenalin. "Damn, where the hell have all the horny women gone? why the hell is this place so damn dull?". He stood panting for a moment, looking around to find a suitably eager female. Of course, still, none could be seen. The tavern had lost its former glory, and he was losing his mind... Not that he was ever truly sane, but still... This current group was an insult to the tavern... such dullards in a place of hard partying? Oh how it angered him... But to everyone else, he was just some drunk fox who did nothing but cause trouble and raise hell.
"Damn" he cursed again, subtley fuming, "where did all the fun go?"