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'Man I could kill for an Irish Kiss,' I said, dropping unto the tall bar stool. Rafferty chuckled and elbowed me sharply, taking the stool beside me. 'We could've bloody made our own at home, you fecking eejit.' The stout, balding bartender paused from wiping the spotless counter and took a juke both ways before leaning down towards us. I pulled back a wee bit, wondering what he wanted. 'Do you mean that, mate? About the Irish Kiss?' he said, in a whispery voice. There was a strange shine in his hooded teal-blue eyes, like a predator finally about to sink his claws in the unsuspecting prey. Then his pale, sweaty forehead pinched in a slight frown as he glanced away at something far off. 'Because there's someone I'd bloody like disposed of.' What Eamonn White thought to be a bad joke at the pub turned out into something lethal as he and his friend, Rafferty, get implicated in a murder. And then he had to go from worrying about the next staff evaluation to worrying if the police was after them as he tried to work out what had gone wrong. In an intense attempt to find a leverage against the villian and avoid the impending future that was a jail sentence, Eamonn uncovers shocking revelations and motives that astound them all. #ONC2021 Prompt 58 and prompt 59
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