There's no place like home. We park just outside my bar, and I'm giddy with excitement. I jump out of the car before Hank turns off the motor and run up to the front door. Hank runs after me, and we walk inside together.
"Holy shitballs," I say.
Hank rubs his eyes. "Holy shitballs."
The bar is decked out in streamers and balloons and hanging on the wall along the length of the bar is a Welcome Back! sign in neon pink. Cheers erupt from the biggest crowd I've ever seen in my bar. All my regulars are here, and a lot of people I've never seen before.
A well-heeled man in a custom made suit and a five-hundred-dollar haircut approaches us and slaps Hank on the back. "You made it back, pal. Drinks are on me."
"Harrison," Hank growls and sucker punches him in the face with a loud crack. Harr
