BigSaltyDog

Ye Olde Large Lad’s African Adventure Part 2: The Bartender’s Conquest Large Lad woke up the next morning sprawled across a rickety hospital bed, saline drip hooked into his arm, mouth dry as the Sahara. He blinked up at the whirring ceiling fan, tried to remember what happened, then instantly winced at the memory of the three stunning paramedics lifting his flabby arms and checking his chest while he drooled nonsense about kebabs. With a groan, he hauled himself up, discharged himself (because hospital breakfasts aren’t bacon rolls and Guinness), and waddled back down the sandy road to the bar. The morning sun was blazing hot, cooking the tarmac like a frying pan. Sweat dripped from every fold of his body before he even reached the bar entrance. And there he was – the bartender, same crooked grin, same missing teeth, polishing glasses with a filthy rag as though it were the finest crystal. “Large Lad!” he hollered, slamming down a tumbler in greeting. “Back for another go, are ya?” La...