Those who are familiar with Holmesian lore know of Baker Street all to well. I on the other hand know of another Baker Street…Baker Street Pub that is. While this Houston bar my have been inspired by the famous residents of 221B Baker Street its inhabitance bear no resemblances, although you could probably find a heroin junkie or two. The night had picked up after some stimulating conversation combined with mass amounts of barley and hopps, which had left my bladder ready to burst. I excused myself and ran to the men’s room fighting the urge to clutch my genitals for fear of pissing my pants.
Upon my return to the drunken hedonism that I had left just minutes before the live band kicked out a semi-punk rock version of Wham’s “Careless Whisper” out through the speakers next to my head. Now I never really liked the original version of the song but the prepubescent fuckers jerking off their guitars was starting to induce a vomitous reaction, so without a moment’s hesitation I fled blindly back to my table. With a heavy and relieved sigh I crashed my ass back into what I thought was my chair but upon opening my eyes I was assaulted by a barrage of both enhanced and non-enhanced breasts (these were no hounds of the baskervilles mind you). “Surly these are not my friends, and surely I am not that drunk” I thought to myself. I heard Carl’s voice behind me and realized that I had mistakenly sat down at the table full of girls that we were ogling moments ago. A smile slowly crept across my face as I decided to give these girls a run. The flirting went on ubiquitously for some time until one of the surgically enhanced girls leaned in and told me of her desire to have a ménage a trios with her, Carl, and myself. This of course was not a possibility as my dear friend Carl had recently married plus the fact that I was way to drunk to fuck, Shortly there after the girls left disappointed. I would like to think that they found some comfort in the arms of one another later that night…yeah I really like that thought.
It was near closing time and after some botched attempts at luring young women and an unfortunate mishap with a tranny Carl and I decided that we should move along to greener pastures. We were both on the verge of blowing a 2.1 but Carl felt confident that he could brave the insane streets of Houston at 1:00 in the morning. So we loaded into his pimp daddy Lexus and began our travels once again.
There is a moment no matter how intoxicated you are when you look at your drunken friend/friends (whom in this case was driving) and you hope you aren’t as utterly shit faced as they are. You sit a little straighter and try to compose yourself as you watch the others lose themselves in their euphoria…my moment came after we ran one red light and I noticed that we were doing 110 mph on a 35 mph road.
It was elementary dear reader that should this gleaming example of Toyota’s marque ingenuity crash into anything at 110 mph there was no airbag in the world going to save our ass’s. This and the fact that I had never known Carl to drive like this forced me to glance over at the driver. I screamed a little when I looked over and saw that my once dear friend had been replaced with the devil himself!! A smooth skinned red thing with a lit cigarette in his hand, I watched him laugh uncontrollably as we ran through red light after red light his crooked yellow piano key teeth jutting forth in the moonlight. I shoved my back into the roomy leather interior of the luxury box in an effort to brace myself for impact for what seemed like an eternity until we suddenly came to a screeching halt. I whipped my head around to behold the great dragon sitting next to me; he had stopped…at a stop sign. “Ankou, Izanami, Mors, Mot, Yama, Shemal” he screamed with eyes blazing red like the fires of Hell. “W-w-w-what”, I asked as I felt tears brimming in my eyes. At that moment he let out a scream like a sheep being slaughtered and smashed the pedal of the luscious Lexus into the floor. We flew at over 100 mph once again, I heard horns blaring and tires squealing in our wake. “HA HA HA, EIJI TOYODA IS MY CONCIBINE BITCH, AND YOU SHALL DIIIIEEEEEE” the devil roared as we ripped down the black asphalt. With an unintentionally sharp jerk of the wheel the demon sent my head smashing into the passenger side window; streaming lights blurred as the spiraling blackness enveloped my vision and I lost consciousness.
I woke up to a sharp poking in my side; I looked up and realized it was Carl. I was overjoyed as I threw my arms around my friends neck. “Oh Carl you wouldn’t believe the dream I just had” I cried.
“Really? Come on you will have to tell me about it inside.” Replied Carl as the red neon flashed behind him.
At that moment the smell of burning rubber and cigarettes permeated my nostrils. I looked up at my friend as I trembled with fear.
We were not home…
“Come on” he said with a wave and a smile, “this is one Hell of a bar, you’re going to love it”.
