MisterHope arrived in Detroit for some family business and had some spare time once the job was done. He wanted to spend his leisure time exploring the business street of Detroit and so he did. Once he reached the street he started walking down the road. After walking up and down the street twice he thought to himself "It is rather strange that this beautiful town has little to no businesses running."

It was not that there were no stores but it was that most of these stores were closed and the very few stores that were open looked poorly maintained. So he decided to ask someone about it. But who, was the question so MisterHope decides to go to this bar that loked like it was open. 

To his luck the bar was open but it was empty. He looks at the bartender who looked amazed to see a customer. MisterHope goes to him and asks for a drink. The bartender makes the drink and serves MisterHope.

While taking a sip of the drink MisterHope asks "Why is the business street so empty?"

"We had a war between families here recently, it wiped out all major businesses as their owners either fled or died or are in the hospital recovering." the bartender replied.

MisterHope now had the answer but there was visible pain on his face. He looked at the bartender and said

"I hope this beautiful town of yours recovers soon and the next time when I visit I hope I see this bar filled with customers."

MisterHope picks up the glass and gulps down the drink in one go. Stands up from the stool, picks up his coat and puts it on his arm and while putting his hat on his head he says "Untill then."

MisterHope walks out the bar and starts heading for home.

Squirrelly-Dan loved to drink.  Beers, Puppers, Whisky, whatever.  He came from a long line of drinkers and he wasn't about to stop the trend.  He also loved to be social and hang out with people.  A bar was a perfect place for him.  A haven, a beacon if you will.  

So - naturally - he was delighted when Misterhope opened up a bar in his hometown.  He marched in like a motherfucker on a mission and sat down at the nearest barstool as he fired up a dart.

"Let's make some shit happen here, friend.  Bring your cheapest booze out here and keep it comin' until I fall off this here barstool."

Abacab left his motel room to get some business done. He left early so he may as well spend it doing some sightseeing. While he was walking down 12th street he saw place he hadn't seen the last time he was in Detroit. It must be a new joint, he though.

He made his way for the entrance. He walked inside  to a pretty elegant place. He approached the counter and waited for one of the bartender to be available. He got out a cigarette and his lighter. He lights it and takes a drag while he waits. About a few minutes later the barkeep heads his way and Abacab order his drink.

"Good evening. I will have whatever you got on tap."

The bartender takes his order and heads for the beer tap. He gets out a clean glass and pulls the tap. He then hands the glass to Abacab

The Detroit native walks the city streets of place he once called home. He takes a deep breath of Detriot motor city air as remembers small little things that he misses. He continues walking down the side walk with his bleach blond hair a stumbles upon a bar that he never noticed before. He thinks about his soberity and his inner demon speaks to him telling him to go in. He walks into the bar with the smell of whiskey in the air. He heads towards the bar taking a seat calling over the bartender.

Yeah, let me get a jack and coke. 

The bartender walks off to make his drink. He looks around watching the folks around him closely. The bartender comes back and places his jack on coke in front of him with a napkin on the side. Shady turns back around takes a sip on the jack and notices the blank napkin. He pulls out his pen and starts to jot down things on it. He feels that creative spark and nods as his continues to write completely forgetting about his drink. He stops for a second lays some money on the table and heads out to go back to LA. 
 

New bars were popping up in the United States left, right, and center, but there was something so simple about one being named 'Detroit Bar' that piqued his interest enough to go check things out. You wouldn't be able to tell it by staring at his exquisite pecs or large veiny legs, but if the Freak walked for too long then he would suffer from bouts of tiredness that could last for hours; his strength and conditioning that he spent roughly four hours per day on could have something to do with it too-- which is why he regretted almost immediately the fact that he let his driver part six blocks away from the business under the guise of needing to go to the hospital and see his sickly grandfather.

While his deadbeat driver sped off to go deal with his, and I quote, "family emergency", the Freak was dealing with an emergency much worse: His legs felt kind of tired. Once he finally made it to the Detroit Bar, the very first thing he did was walk towards one of the tables and place his legs up on it.

"Ahh, much better. So, who serves the drinks around here?" 

Before anyone could answer his question, he looked up towards the menu and took note of everything on tap. The list was long and most of it sounded like things that he wouldn't enjoy, but being quite the adventurous man and not wanting to say no to a challenge, the Freak pointed to a bottle with a little skull on the label and smiled.

"You want that? It's not a dri--"

"I want it, in a large glass. Pour it tall."

"Are you su--"

"Do it, man. I came a long way for this and I need something to wash down that burger I had earlier." with a sigh, the bartender poured the drink which should be placed into quotations for legal reasons, and slid it over towards the hulking man that seemed to have more veins on his body than cells in his brain.

Without any sort of apprehension at all, he took a swig of the very thick liquid and immediately began to convulse on the spot. It took a few minutes for the shaking to stop and his mouth to stop foaming, but after what was a harrowing experience, he shrugged and took another gulp only to experience the same thing.

"This is some violent shit, man. Why are you serving this?" 

Setting down the glass on the table, he put down a few dollars onto the bar counter and then pushed the drink away. He wouldn't be finishing that at all, because it seemed one more sip would send him directly to the Hospital.

"I don't know how you're still standing, but thanks for coming to Detroit Bar!"

Noting the friendly banter on the man behind the counter, the Freak set down another three dollars and flashed him a smile before nearly taking another sip of that heinous drink, only to be stopped by his own body kicking him to the floor. Maybe those two sips were going to finish him off after all? 

"No, wait... I'm fine. Just... just had the air knocked out of me a little..." standing up, he burped a few bubbles and then headed towards the door.

As he was heading home from a business venture Genesis felt the sudden need of a good drink. He wandered off to the Detroit street. He the Detroit Bar just ahead . It was close so he decided to pay a visit. He then headed for the entrance. Gen walked inside to lively crowd. It was a feel good atmosphere. 

He made his way toward the bar plopped himself on a seat. He reached inside his right pocket and grabbed his cigarettes. He took a match and lit the cigarette. Genesis took a drag while waiting for the barkeep.

"I will have a glass of your best Rum"

The bartender gets his drink reedy and hands it to him before Ab takes another drag of his cigarette.

Tutte were always in for a small drink or two so he heads into Detrit Bar and sits down and orders a bourbon which he slowly drinks while thinking of his journey here in detroit and he come up to that he loved this place so much that he easlily could die for it.

After he drank 2 bourbons he felt warm and continued his work in the city and knew he was goanna have a great time this day to while making so much money he could during his path around the city.

Pete walked intothe bar, he saw a few face's thathe knew, this hole in the walljoint had a lot ofhis friends in it so he wasn't worried about trouble.  Sitting at the bar he ordered a seven and seven and told the bar keep to keep his glass filled until he has finished at least four shots.  Pete was trying to relax but no could with the recent events.  So being the gangsters they all were they dranked whatever they got their hands on and joked around with whom ever was around.  Pete did more listening then talking as always.   

Back in hometown and really needed a drink after being a couple of hours in hostile Vegas there he killed some bodyguards as his leader told him to do and then sat and shaking a while and were afraid of being seen by some of our enemies which he did good and got out Vegas back home. Now he needed to have a couple of beers to settles his nerves and that's what he did when coming into Detroit Bar this late afternoon

Pete was leaving the trainstation accompanied by Neil and Robert.  They were dressed nicely and smiling as they were there on business.  Robert called for a cab and when it arrived Neil put the bags in the car, Robert got in the front seat and Neil in the back with Pete.  They drove to their apartment and Pete paid the driver while the guys grabbed the bags.   Pete looked up and thought about the Detroit Bar they droped their bags in their apartment and went to the bar.

Pete and the guys sat at the bar and ordered a bottle of whiskey and poured doubles until the bottle was empty.  They never said a word about business but laughed at the scores of the baseball games.  Pete made a nice bundle from his sports operation and loansharking.  Pete would loan money to men that betted with him and if he knew they were betting against teams he had the fix on he covered if their bets were on the right team he reduced the amount they wanted and then collected from their winnings.  

Julius needed a drink after a long day of hazing and humiliation. Why do people persist on calling him Orange? Sigh. 

"Bourbon. Double it." Julius ordered as he approached the bar.

After a short while of drinking his sorrows he thought maybe it was time to embrace the Orange moniker 

After a long and tiresome day, Yakuza, was much in need for a drink or five. 

Luckily for him, Detroit Bar, was located nearby from where he was, so he made his way to the establishment. Once inside, he went up to the to the bar and ordered himself a Martini Espresso.  

"Thanks fella, this takes delightful!" 

Coffee and alcohol, what better combination! 

Genesis was finished doing business and ready to head home. As he was walking the streets he felt the sudden need of a good drink. He saw The Detroit Bar along his travels. It was close to his motel room so he decided to pay a visit. He headed for the entrance and walked inside to lively crowd. It was a feel good atmosphere. 

He made his way toward the bar and sat down at the counter. He reached inside his right pocket and grabbed his cigarettes. He took a match and lit the cigarette. Gen took a drag while waiting for the barkeep. Moments pass and the barkeep makes his way for Genesis and asks for his order.

"I will have a glass of Johnnie Walker, please."

They nodded and got his drink ready. They grabbed a clean glass and half full bottle of whiskey. They pour a glass and hand it to Genesis. He thanks them and takes a swig.

Carmine was walking around the Detroit streets. He had come across quite a few bars during his walk. He wasn't sure which one to enter, but was just passing by each one. The Detroit Bar surely caught his eye given the noise and action in there. Outside it was a quiet place and once you peak your head to the side, you can hear the music inside and what was going down.

Carmine wasn't still sure, if he wanted to enter a bar this early in the morning. He just had his coffee and he knew, it wasn't the right time. He just kept walking on and looking for something else to keep him occupied.

*Zeitgeist had just been thrown out of the last bar he was in for sleeping on the counter, offending other patrons with his sombre tone and perhaps a contributing factor was swearing at the owner after he had been cut off from any further booze, fortunately Detroit had a thriving business district and Zeitgeist still had a full wallet. He stumbled in to the Detroit Bar, collapsing at the bar with his visibily annoyed bodyguards flanking him on either side, Zeitgeist looked up and over at the barkeep and requested a double shot of whiskey on the rocks*

Sera brushed the sleep out of her eyes. It was going to be a long day and she knew it. As she sat at her room, she contemplated going to buy a bottle of liquor from somewhere. As she got up to wander towards the HQ she passed Detroit Bar. Wondering if anyone would notice her absence, she slipped through the doors.

Once inside, she made her way to the quiet part of the bar. Motioning her usual drink to the bartender, she set about waiting for it. As she waited, she watched the people around her. Some were having conversations with one another, some were alone like her. She recognized a few faces but decided it was way too early to get involved with people.

The bartender showed up with her drink and she swallowed it down fast before ordering another.