Martin and Chris had their arms on each others shoulders as the swayed from side to side in time to the music blaring out of the jukebox at the back of the bar. As the song finished they fell back into their seats laughing and swigging out of their beer glasses.
“You remember them old gigs man?” Chris said, wiping froth from his moustache.
“I sure do, ‘member the way Topper used to play that song?” said Martin, rooting in his pocket for spare change to get the jukebox going again.
“Yeah, I remember.” said Chris.
Martin looked at his old friend hearing the pain in his voice.
“You never did like Topper, why was that?”
“Some people you just take a disliking to, and that’s that. Topper took a dislike to me, so I took a dislike to him.” said Chris.
“True, true. You ‘member Missy Harris? She was, like, the opposite of that for you!”
Martin had been infatuated with Missy for the five years they spent in school, any hopes of a romance ended, when she revealed to the school that she was a lesbian by kissing every girl in their class in what was a very drunken and, for most of the class, fun graduation night.
“Yeah, well, fuck Missy Harris. And fuck Topper, and fuck half them other assholes. Your the only one I ever real thought was sound, you know that Martin?” said Chris.
“Oh, I love you too babe.” said Martin, making kissy faces at his old friend. The two erupted into laughter. Martin put some money in the jukebox and began to pick a song.
“So, Martin, you ever talk to any of the old class? Janey? Pete?”
“Nah, man, I been outta the town for so long, I just kind of fell out of contact with them all, and I have never been exactly computer literate, so can’t manage any of this Facebook, Twitters stuff.”
Chris looked at his watch, double checked the time on the clock behind the bar and looked out the window.
“You know, I was tortured in that school, don’t you?”
“Well, tortured might be a bit much, I know you had a hard time of it.”
“I was tortured Martin. Everyday I was beaten, jeered, made to feel like a lesser human being.”
Martin hung his head. His friend was right, school had been a misery for Chris, while Martin had escaped thanks to his skill on the football pitch.
“Well, all well that ends well, eh?” said Chris, raising his glass.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, all those scrotums think that they are going to a reunion in the old school tonight. I set it up. Won’t it be funny when they go in and all they say is their loved ones, hanging by their necks?”
“What are you saying?”
Come on Marty, your plenty smart. I murdered the families of everyone who was mean to me, and hung them to dry in the school. No biggie.”
Martin looked in the eyes of his old friend, and a murderer stared back.