Jacks sipped his sixth whiskey, he didn't know how many more the barkeep was going to serve him because the surly looking mexican man was already shooting him the stink eye. Soon 'Jose' was going to cut him off, and then he'd either cause a scene and get kicked out or choose the easier path and simply sulk off to another bar. Jacks knew better though, he was most likely going to blow up and raise the fucking roof, it was just how he was.<br/><br/>The jukebox was blaring Johnny Cash, Folsom Prison Blues, and other than Jacks there were only two other patrons in the place. Jacks picked up his dirty glass and swallowed down the last of the cheap booze. He set the glass down on the bar and tapped the rim of it, an alcoholic's silent code that he'd like another. Jose walked down slowly and then looked down at his watch.<br/><br/>"You know homes, It's like quarter to nine in the morning and you already half way through a bottle of wild turkey... You think you ought to slow down?" The bartender asked, but it was obvious that he was willing to play ball because instead of refilling the glass he picked it off the bar and started wiping it out with a dirty bar rag.<br/><br/>"You ought to mind your own fuckin' business Jesus." Jacks retorted making sure to pronounce it 'Hey-zues'.  "Now if you could kindly get me another fucking whiskey, I would appreciate it. " Jacks finished, sliding a five dollar bill across the bar and slapping it down hard enough to get the other patrons attention.<br/><br/>"Alright, that's it.....Yer 86'ed.....get out before I call the cops!" The bartender said as he reached under the bar and palmed some unknown weapon.<br/><br/>"Go on and pull it out.....I dare ya." Jacks said folding his muscled arms over his chest in a pose of defiance that said he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.<br/><br/>The Barkeep flinched, but before he could get the ballbat out Jacks reached across the bar and grabbed the greasy man's shirt collar and slammed him down onto the bartop. He pressed down and got down close to the fat mexican man's ear. "You are fucking with the wrong hombre, You see this?" Jacks growled as he produced his Federal Marshal's badge and pressed it against the poor man's chubby cheek hard enough to leave an impression.<br/><br/>"Now put down that bat and pick up the bottle of booze and pour me another fucking drink before I have you beaner-ass deported." Jacks said, slurring his words a little and showing how drunk he was already getting.<br/><br/>"The barkeep jerked away and readjusted his shirt collar, he had a mixture of shame and anger on his face. "Thas fucked up man, I am a US citizen!" He said before relenting and putting the bottle up on the bar, "You can pour your own fucking drink, Gringo!!"<br/><br/>Jacks grabbed the bottle and poured himself a full glass. "Yeah, I bet you got your green card hanging up on the wall next to your high school diploma huh?"