Bandit's Cantina - The Series

The two black-clad and helmeted bikers stood at the entrance of the bar, obvious to the bar?s clientele. An uncomfortable hush fell over the Cantina like a dense fog over the San Pedro Harbor. ? Mandy pulled the slider back on the MAC 10 then laid it on the bar, aimed at the two men. […]

HAPPY HOUR PART 9 The two black-clad and helmeted bikers stood at the entrance of the bar, obvious to the bar?s clientele. An uncomfortable hush fell over the Cantina like a dense fog over the San Pedro Harbor. ? Mandy pulled the slider back on the MAC 10 then laid it on the bar, aimed

Mandy absently brushed a lock of her auburn hair from her face as she rapidly poured four mugs of beer. It was happy hour and the place was packed like coins in a roll. ?Looking out over the crowd in Bandit?s Cantina, she shook her head. The crowd of men started coming in just after

Los Angeles Detective Joe Hernandez clicked the pen, closed the notepad and put it back in his coat pocket. When Marko eased close to the officer to deliver a drink, the detective shot out his left arm faster than Marko could blink. The Joe grabbed Marko?s collar and began to twist, pulling Marko towards him.

Bandit marched through the massive oak doors packin’ two cases of Jack Black into the near-empty Cantina. It was shift change and Tina was getting ready to leave. Two other waitresses were arriving. “Attention on deck!” Bandit shouted in mock military fashion. He was greeted with half-hearted salutes and boos. But a quiet countenence fell

A ’91 Chevy pickup screeched into the Cantina parking lot. It was bright red with traditional flames lapping over the hood and down the side of the cab. It was lowered and looked mean with dark tinted windows. Bandit jumped from the cab. He appeared agile for his age, although an old shoulder injury was

Mad Marko, security, looked around Bandit’s Cantina. Most of the patrons had wandered out to their bikes, fired ’em up and peeled out. This was the second time in a week that the place had been shot at, and it was taking it’s toll on business. The place was once the most popular biker bar

Jimbo pushed his drink away, visibly shaken by the blast. He stared at Tina with direct blue eyes. “I’m not taking another chance like that. I’m not coming in here again. Come with me Tina.” Tina looked at Jimbo with longing eyes. He had every right to want her. He’d been coming into the Cantina

Jimbo stood against the thick oak bar sipping his second margarita and wondering where his girl was when a .45 armor- piercing bullet shattered a glass block on the other side of the room. It split the turned oak pillar at the corner of the bar 2 inches from his left shoulder. Tina, the waitress