View source for Blue Bruiser Story, Bar Tops

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<center>'''[[Image:BBT.jpg|He's just that BLUE!]]'''</center>


''To get back to the [[Blue Bruiser]] main page, click [[Blue Bruiser|'''Here!''']]''
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Dennis was doing what he always has on an uneventful tuesday night. Sitting in his local pub after a long trip and watching the latest top 10 on Sportscenter. He was sitting in the same spot about nineteen years ago when he sold his pet shop for his newest responisbilities, and has been sitting in the same spot since. Kelly was always behind the bar on a tuesday and she was this tuesday, chatting up the other bar patrons about the day... half for the interactions and half for the tips.

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Dennis just sat in his little wall booth alone, with two empty burger plates and the biggest mug in the place (which is earmarked for Orange Soda) and tugging at his mustache while watching Zdeno Chara walk through the Sox's game with the Stanley Cup. Dennis liked sports. He'd actually had been an amateur linebacker in his day, which was anyone's guess. And Dennis liked it that way. He was taught never to talk the talk while walking around as a big blue suited goon. It was Blue Bruiser there and nothing to do with Dennis. The couple times he did make it about Dennis in a blue suit shot back in his face harder then a punch ever could. Just like John used to say. Dennis thought it was funny he was saying the same thing to all these new blooded capes now. Not as funny as Kermit the Frog playing football though.

"Need a topper there, Big Den?" Kelly interrupted Dennis' Kermit thought. Just tuck that one back for later.

"Yeah, sure Kelly. Do whatever you need to, to keep this eyecandy here." Dennis said, thumbing roughly at his face... or moustache. Dennis' thumb covered a lot of space. Kelly just gave that shrill giggle she had and heft Dennis' mug back behind the bar to give him a top off. Dennis rubbed his moustache and drifted off in another memory, having forgot everything about his Kermit the Frog thought which he forgot to tuck away. Shame.

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It was maybe... twelve? No, thirteen years ago. Same booth. Same bar. Same big mug, with less character of course. Maybe a little later in the night around closing time, which is always earlier on a tuesday but this was a friday. When your Dennis' size, you don't get messed around with too much outside of the meta-human community. Dennis isn't really famous but the Blue Bruiser is. Saying they are one in the same is semantics, since they are, but he doesn't act the same. Dennis is uncut and raw. Nice enough guy but he isn't spouting off about freedom and how he's going to beat you like a frenchman beats baby seals in the name of freedom. No, all that talk has no real place is someones personal life... but that day. If Dennis is around at closing, he usually walks the staff out to cabs or their boyfriends picking them up. Night in Brooklyn can become a dangerous place real quick, although it nearly never does. It was just something he did, since Dennis doesn't sleep much. Lucky to catch six hours a night and as if he needs it anymore.

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Drunk kids. Cocky twenty-one yearolds that act like a bruised ego is enough to warrant murder. Booze does the talking, it usually does more then just talk. It moves you around and makes you think stupid ideas are great. Dennis was leaning against the wall just outside of his local pub, in the middle of Brooklyn, oh... say about... two in the morning. Kelly and Sian, the weekend manager, were waiting for a cab. Dennis said he'd wait on by until it got there and he did. Reliable. Two on a saturday morning is when young drunk men sign cheques they can't pay and when it's time to collect, more often then not, go bankrupt. Of course, wasn't new to Dennis. The drunks stumble around the young ladies waiting for a cab, make a couple catcalls, Dennis shakes a big fist at them, they stumble off. End of.

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Well, this all went down the same. Nearly the same. Four young men, making calls from afar, shifting out into an alley and presumablely home. Dennis sees the cab, gives a stiff wave to his young friends and starts stomping down the road to watch more Sportscenter, drink more Orange Soda and listen to a police scanner... just on the off chance. NYPD didn't give it to him to not be used, after all. Even if the Blue Bruiser's operation in the U.S. need to be okay'd by the current government, A big guy could still be a good samaritan.

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Well that thought was interrupted pretty quickly. Squeals of tires grabs your attention. Dennis turned around for a moment to see the cabby taking the barstaff home narrowly miss hitting one of the four doused men from before. New York and real early mornings usually mean colourful laungage, as Dennis expected to hear from one angry brazillian cab driver. Instead he got a couple guttural cries and screams from the scene. Dennis squinted and postured himself for a second, groggy with inaction for a week or so... spying two of the four young men pulling the cabby out and violently hitting him with something. That was enough for Dennis, or Blue Bruiser as he quickly had his mentality switch. Dennis started stomping towards the men as fast as he could from about fifty yards away.

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Contrary to popular belief, there is a fairly easy way to defeat the Blue Bruiser. He gets beaten all the time, usually by five good steps. Two of the young men hitting the cabby, which put this poor mid-thirties brazilian man in such trauma he died two hours later, beat Blue Bruiser that night. The other two pulling Sian out of the cab and trying to peel off her clothes didn't. Dennis broke one neck, two spines, and fractured a man's skull right there and then. One of the young men, who used to be a bricklayer, was dead. The other one was an ex-con, jailed for violent assault. He's alive, but living in a chair. Sian moved out of New York around three weeks later and Kelly just went on to work like normal, right until present day. She's the manager now though... good kid. Maybe even looking to own the place. Dennis has been in and out of these fights for most of his life but the reason he remembers this little scruffle, besides helping out his friend(s), was his vague realization that he had done the same as a no good drunken kid... and got away with it.

[[category:Stories]]