Wed Nov 28, 2012 11:56 am by Killer Kenny Cabral
His communicator went off like an unpleasant alarm clock on the night stand that was on his side of the bed. Cabral's muscular arm rose and with his big, right palm did he pick it up, hear the message left for him and dropped it on the ground. His face remained comfortably on the pillow which held it, his eyes barely open though a snarled lip indicated that he loathed being awake, even if morning had come and gone hours ago.
The night before had proven to be bountiful and the booty was ripe for the taking. Literally. Not only was he able to find company of the fair faced ladies on Hapes more nights than not of late, he did so without having to waste any of his own, and dwindling, funds. The night before, he found himself in a pub, devoid of adequate funds for a seventh drink and lo and behold a bachelorette party came into the pub.
Cabral remembered standing at the fake wood trimmed bar. The top of the bar was as sticky and uncared for as the floor beneath his boots. Unbeknownst to Cabral, he swayed back and forth as his unabashed gaze found the eyes of a woman in the group with some tiara on her head...or something, so he thought.
His eyes belied his best efforts to appear as though he was not inebriated. Though intially greeted with a chilly reception from the woman and her friends, eventually one thing led to another and the Zabrak and his lady for the night were back at her place. Clearly the woman didn't care how much his revolting breath reeked of cheap alchol and death sticks for the two fornicated that evening.
And now he was jolted from a restful sleep by his communicator. Tried as hard as he did, he could not get back to sleep. He lay still for a moment with blinking eyes, and a deep breath before he rolled over to his back. Beside him his lady lay asleep. Her hair was a mess, and her naked body was barely covered at all by the once clean sheets that happily rested upon this bed seemingly never before disturbed before the night before.
Across from the bed in which he rested, was the woman's dresser. After scrolling it apathetically as he gathered the energy to get up and dressed, his eyes fell upon the tiara from the night before. Across the center of it read "BRIDE". The Zabrak's eyes went wide and he jumped up from the bed waking the woman who was sleeping next to him.
He was frantically grabbing his clothes and belongings, dressing himself in haste and horror.
=Woman= "What?"
"Nothing. You're just getting married and I better get out of here before..." There conversation was interrupted by pounding at the door. Cabral quickly made it to the window and looked down at the doorway below where a large, physically imposing, man was knocking on the door and, promptly let himself in.
"Sithspit." Cabral began to panic. "I have to get ou-" The door to the bedroom opened up with the husband-to-be (who probably won't be thereafter) standing in horrific rage as Cabral had one leg hanging out the bedroom window. "It was fun, babe. Good luck with the...ah screw it." And leapt out of the window and landed, with little grace, on the deck below. Wasting no time, Cabral ran down the street and down a corner street and stopped to catch his breath laughing to himself a bit, in between gasps for breath.
His moment was abruptly brought to an end when he felt a hand on his shoulder, violently grab him, turn him around and hit him with so much force that it nearly knocked him out on the first punch.
Hubby was not happy.
After a few minutes of a very one-sided fight, Cabral got knocked around something fierce. Eventually, the husband relented in his beating of Cabral when the police arrived after a few neighbors called to report the incident.
The Zabrak was found laughing by the time the police arrived. He denied medical attention, did not want to press charges and thought to himself that the husband was fortunate enough to find him still hungover from the night before or the bride-to-be might have found herself with a corpse for a groom.
This was "Killer" Kenny Cabral, after all. Even if he was a little past his prime, often too drunk to stumble to his home and not as strong as he used to be. However, he was just as quick to anger and had lived a long, hard nomadic lifestyle as a pirate.
He had fallen on hard times. It happens. He was also aging. That happens too. He knew Zane would make good on a job eventually for he and the crew to get in on. It was just a matter of time.
After Kenny brushed the dirt off himself, he fixed his old patches he called clothes and limped down to the bar where Zane and he did often rendezvous. Once inside, Cabral found himself sore from the altercation and knew that he would be feeling as such for a few days.
Nevertheless, he took a seat at a table that Zane found himself at and sat down. A waitress came over and Cabral ordered a shot of hard, though cheap, liquor. The Zabrak smile showed rotted, yellow teeth. He couldn't even open one of his eyes given the beating he had found at the hands of the man whose fiancee he had just spent the night with and Cabral seemingly didn't care. Although, he did say something to Zane in between laughing.
"The jobs might not be easy here but the women are."