#psycho!vince

[vince-linder]

A thing of beauty

"𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒕𝒐���, 𝑽" "𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒕."

[vincess-princess]

we, the psychos: masterpost

this fic is growing so fast it warrants its own masterpost now

Fandom: Motley Crue, Guns n’ Roses (secondary), Kiss (secondary), the list may be updated

Summary:

The Feelgood Asylum, home to the sickest and the maddest, welcomes a new resident. That’s Tommy Lee, once a heir to a noble family, and now disowned and sent away for seeing what no one else sees and laughing when no one else laughs. At first horrified by the living conditions and the labor that patients have to perform, he then quickly finds new friends… and enemies.

Nikki Sixx, Frank Feranna for others, constantly loses battles with his own demons. And it’s not helping that the worst patient in the asylum, sex-addicted maniac Vince Wharton is sparing him too much - and at the same time not nearly enough - of his attention. And the new patient disturbs their already turbulent relationship even more.

And Mick Mars, who keeps quiet during the day and screams at night, never wanted any of this.

Warnings: mental illness (duh) and everything that it entails, self-harm, sexual assault, unethical medical treatment, period-accurate homophobia. The list may be updated

This fic was inspired by this post by amazing @smokeandmirrorz

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

AO3

Last updated 21.05.2024

[wombywoo]

8. What happens if one of them gets sick?

And

34. Who’s more likely to tell a dirty joke or story to make the other blush?

i love these boys 🥺🥺

thank youuu!

8. What happens if one of them gets sick?:

If Quinn's sick, he's a downright miserable bastard lol. Not used to having someone take care of him, he'll attempt to simply ride it out by bundling up in bed and suffering for hours--but with Vincent around, there's more of a comfort to it. Vincent will make him soup (and force him to eat it), and sit quietly by his side with a book or a movie playing in the bg, stroking his hair. He'll also thoughtfully leave his cold (dead) hand on his forehead for relief 🤭

If Vincent is... incapacitated, Quinn turns into a nervous wreck. His instinct is to panic and just start pouring his blood down Vince's throat, lol, but once he gets a full scope of the situation, he'll remain vigil by his side until he's back to normal capacity. If he's clinging to his hand, that's no one's business but his own 😤

34. Who’s more likely to tell a dirty joke or story to make the other blush?

I'm inclined to say Quinn because he's got a crude sense of humor, but it's really funny imagining Vincent blurting some random snippet about an orgy he might've participated in in the 60s or something, just casually 😂

[esqueletosgays]

PSYCHO (1998)

Director: Gus Van Sant Cinematography: Christopher Doyle

[fanofspooky]

“A boy’s best friend is his mother…”

Psycho (1998)

[ceteradesunt]

Psycho (1998) dir. Gus Van Sant

[wulfhalls]

opinions on the planned Luca Guadagnino American Psycho adaptation?

feels a little unnecessary like most remakes tbh. it's not like there are substantially new things to say about the subject. also if he casts jacob elordi or nico glycerin or glen powell or austin butler I will get violent. if it's barry keoghan however I never said anything bad about this idea ever. I was deeply supportive from the start.

[vince-linder]

Locked in a chase that'll never cease

A bloody moon, portending doom

Another cruel day is coming soon

[blowflyfag]

WORLD WRESTLING ENTERTAINMENT/FEDERATION MAGAZINE: OCTOBER 1996

EL SID! 

THE POTENTIAL IS ABOUT TO BE TAPPED

By Vince Russo

In the early 1990s I just didn’t buy it. This man didn’t belong in anyone’s shadow. Especially a champion who had by far seen his better days. In my opinion, I will always view WrestleMania VIII as a disappointment. It should have been Sid's day… Sid’s year… and Sid’s era. Instead, a voodoo man, a Warrior, and immaturity crashed and ruined his party, thus forcing him almost into obscurity.

In 1992, at WrestleMania VIII, Sid Eudy should’ve, would’ve and could’ve beat Hulk Hogan. He was bigger, stronger, faster and smarter than the then champion. Unfortunately, in his own words, he was not ready for the “big time”. A hometown boy from Arkansas, Sid was not quite prepared for the lights, cameras and action of the World Wrestling Federation. As a matter of fact, before a deserved rematch could have even be issued, Sid had already packed his bags and headed back to “Razorback Country”.

After some extensive soul searching, a more grown-up, seasoned Sid made his comeback to the World Wrestling Federation three years later in 1995. Little did he know that the hurdle that would stand in his way this time was not himself, but rather something that would be far beyond his control. His “greenery” was small potatoes when compared to the professional jealousy that Sid would have to overcome in order to get to the place he wanted to be… the top. Kids, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again–WRESTLING = SPORTS ENTERTAINMENT = BIG BUSINESS = POLITICS and with politics comes jockeying for position. Yes, there are many Willie Shoemakers at TitanSports, both outside…and INSIDE the ring. When Sid made his long awaited return, those who ruled the ring at the time may have been intimidated by him… in more ways than one. He was the new kid on the block, not to mention the new “BIGGER” kid. Fans immediately began cheering him because he was “cool,” and that became threatening to many of his peers. I was at Monday Night Raw in Macon, Georgia, on  February 20, 1995, when Sid debuted as the new bodyguard of Shawn Michaels. To say the place became an asylum would be an understatement! When Sid made his way down that aisle, the patients went beyond CRAZY! They ripped off their strait-jackets and got ready to rock! 

Folks, to certain individuals–THIS WAS NOT GOOD.

“Warning, warning, Will Robionson. An intruder is looking to steal our spotlight!” That’s right, IN MY OPINION, a certain number of Sid’s peers may have been shaking in their boots. If Eudy were, by chance, to become more popular than them, it would be devastating… devastating to their egos, of course, NOT to the business as a whole! So, in more ways than one, they saw to it that Sid was buried. And, buried he was. Left out to rot… fossilize… chum for the maggots.

For the next six months, Sid would lie low. IN MY OPINION, he had become a victim of “circumstance”. For understandable reasons, he may have become sour with the business. The politics seemed to have pushed him into the “could have been” category. He even went so far as to announce his retirement from the squared circle. If this truly was the case, then it would be nothing short of a tragedy. A wasteful loss not only to the World Wrestling Federation, but to the business as a whole. 

But wait, at the end of the tunnel you could hear the firing of a match. Yes, there was light.

The balance of power shifted among the ranks of the World Wrestling Federation, largely due to the almighty buck. Those who may have buried Sid earlier were not being buried themselves in a gushing flood of undeserving greenbacks. Remember, those who tore Sid down behind his back said it was for the “good of the company”. Well, my question is, “Where was the ‘good of the company’ when you were negotiating behind the boss’ back?!”

You  know what, scratch that. I’m not going to get up on my soapbox because that is not what this commentary is about. This commentary is about SID. And, for the reasons I am about to mention, I strongly believe that Sid’s time has arrived!!!

Along with Bret Hart, Shawn Michaels is probably the most “confident” individual I have ever known. He doesn’t worry about the “threat” of others overthrowing his Kliq because as the World Wrestling Federation Champion he realizes what he brings to the dance. He doesn’t have to tear down others to build himself up, because he already is the tallest skyscraper in the city! He has no shortcomings. Nothing to hide or protect. He has the belief in himself that no man is  going to knock him off his perch. It’s the security of himself. Shawn Michaels knows that Sid is good for the “business”. He’s a monster with a personality and people will pay money to see him! Sid will help everybody–including Shawn Michaels–in the long run.

With Shawn Michaels on top, there is no question in my mind that Sid’s time is NOW! Politics can take a beat seat and let him do the driving! The potential has only thus far been tapped… but now it will EXPLODE!!! 

Yes, Sid Eudy just may soon… “RULE THE WORLD”!

[vincess-princess]

we, the psychos

ch. 5

Word count: 2724 Warnings: violence A/N: i really am spoiling you with all those updates. gene simmons fans, i'm sorry, i needed a bad guy

Vince was suffocating.

Water in his lungs, water in his eyes, water in his nose. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t even scream – no sound came out, only bubbling. The coldness burned his skin; he grasped the handles of the chair, but couldn’t feel its wooden texture. And it went on, and on, and on, and the world was just cold and water-

And then it ended. The water trickled down his body and pooled at his feet. Vince opened his eyes, but still couldn’t see anything and for a second panicked. Then he realised it was just his hair covering his eyes. He shook his head to get it out of sight.

His eyes were hurting as they do after you open them underwater, and his vision hadn’t returned to him completely, so he could only see a figure in white coming up to him. But the voice was unmistakable.

“Well, Wharton,” nurse Simmons said, “enjoyed the shower?”

“Screw you,” Vince coughed out.

“Well, you’re the only one screwed here,” nurse Simmons responded cheerily. “You might want to be more polite if you don’t want another shower. And you don’t, do you?”

Vince didn’t answer. Nurse Simmons came close to him and squatted down in front of him so that their faces were on the same level. He smiled. It was all fun and games to him.

“Well?”

“Yes,” Vince croaked. He wanted to spit in Simmons’s face so bad, but that would not help his situation.

“That’s a good boy. Now, I’ll untie you, and don’t you try to pull anything.” Simmons unfastened the belts first on Vince’s legs, then on his wrists.

Vince stood up, stretched his shoulders. And when nurse Simmons turned his back on him to fetch a towel, Vince launched at him.

He jumped on nurse Simmons’ back and clasped his arms around his neck. Simmons staggered back and clutched at Vince’s arms, but Vince clung to him like a tick. Simmons was like a head taller than him and twice as wide in the shoulders, so direct assault would have Vince on the ground the very next moment. This – this gave him a chance. Not to kill Simmons, no. That would be too much. To cause him at least a sliver of the pain and discomfort he just caused Vince.

“Let go,” Simmons croaked. He tried to poke at Vince’s eye with one hand, but missed. Vince bit his finger, and Simmons yelped in pain. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

Vince’s arms began to hurt, so he enclasped Simmons’ body with his legs to give himself some propping. Simmons finally realised trying to reach the parasite on his back was useless and backed into the wall with all the speed he was capable of.

Vince hit the wall with his back so hard all the air went out of his lungs. His grip weakened, and Simmons managed to shove his hand in between his arms. Now that he could breathe again, Simmons began slamming his back into the wall until Vince released his grip and slid to the floor.

Simmons began kicking him in the ribs vehemently, shouting curses along with it. Vince covered his head and lay onto the floor in the pose of an embryo – that minimized the damage to vital organs. And now just to wait, just to endure until Simmons runs out of steam. Blows rained down his back and legs, some even came at the arms covering his face – the nurses usually tried not to hit in the face, but Simmons must have got too carried away.

In a distance, as though through fog, Vince heard another voice – a different nurse. Wonder if he stops Simmons or joins him?..

Then blows stopped.

Stradlin stood over Vince, looking at him with his typical indifference. Nothing ever touched him. Vince wished he could go through life like that – with a glass shield separating him and the world, so that he could see everything but not care about it. Stradlin never got angry, even when a patient was smearing shit all over his face, and barely ever smiled.

But at least he stopped Simmons.

“What’s that again?” he asked Simmons tiredly.

“The motherfucker tried to choke me!” Simmons said, rubbing his neck.

“Why’d you do that?” Stradling now said to Vince, not a change in his tone.

Vince moved his arms away from his face. The back of his palm was bleeding from Simmons’s sharp heel. He licked the blood off and smiled.

“He’s a dick.”

”And what do we do with him now?” Stradlin asked Simmons, losing interest to Vince.

“I’ll go ask Dr. Duren. I don’t even know what else can be done.” Simmons spit on the floor. “Would you mind watching him while I am away?”

“Alright.”

Simmons sent Vince the last hateful look and left. Stradlin picked up the towel that Simmons dropped when Vince attacked him and threw it at Vince.

“Wipe yourself up and dress.”

***

The man Duff delegated Tommy too surely was… peculiar. Long black hair that almost reached his waist that was unusually well-kept for a psycho streamed down his shoulders. Clear blue eyes looked at the world with wariness so old it was almost ingrained in them. His hospital robe was well-worn but clean, without a single wrinkle. This man hardly looked insane, and at first Tommy even doubted Duff told him the truth: how can be this man a patient? But then he looked at his fingers, and they were covered in wounds and scabs; the man kept picking at them absent-mindedly even as he and Duff spoke. Blood was under one of his nails. The man seemed not to notice.

“Bob, this is Tommy Lee. He just arrived to our asylum, so make sure his first impression is good!” Duff said with a smile. “Tommy, this is Bob Deal. He’s one of the oldies. Knows everything around here. He’ll show you around.”

“Hello,” Tommy said carefully to the man, hesitating whether he should offer him his hand. Then he decided to go for it – and the man looked at it like it was smeared with crap.

“Bob doesn’t shake hands,” Duff said apologetically. “He’s very… hygienic. Our laundresses’ favorite patient!”

“Ah, alright.” Well, what else could I expect.

“People used to show their hands to each other to prove they had no weapons. This is where hand-shaking comes from. You both can agree this is not needed in our situation,” the man spoke with a low, slightly hoarse voice. He must be a smoker. Were cigarettes allowed here?

“Well, you know, with some patients you wish they got in the habit of showing you their hands,” Duff laughed. “Not needed with you two, though, that’s true. Alright, I’ll be on my way. Please be back in twenty minutes, gents, or I’ll get into a big trouble. And keep out of nurse Simmons’ sight!”

“Don’t worry, boss,” Bob Deal said, made Tommy a lazy gesture to follow him and turned around. They went up the pathway circling the asylum.

“Hey, Bob. What’s so bad about nurse Simmons?” Tommy asked. Bob kept silent so long Tommy thought he was ignoring him. What did he do to earn such unfriendliness?

Then he stopped and turned to Tommy. “Two things,” he said. “First: don’t call me Bob. My name is Mick Mars. Nurses mustn’t know.”

“Mick Mars?” The name was more fit for a practicing performer than for a psych patient. Though… these were not too far apart. People of the arts were all a bit cooky. “Alright… And why nurses mustn’t know?”

“They will tell them.” Mick highlighted the last word with his voice. He looked at Tommy with grave seriousness. To laugh now would be to lose his favor for good.

“Oh. Them. Alright. And who are they?”

Mick didn’t answer, just put his finger to his mouth.

Well, if that was the asylum’s most reasonable fellow, Tommy feared to imagine what their worst case looked like. The blonde guy from the canteen? Or something worse?

They stood in silence until Tommy lost his patience.

“What’s the second thing?”

“Oh, yeah.” Mick’s tone switched to lazy casual so suddenly it gave Tommy a whiplash. “Nurse Simmons. Right. Well, he’s very good friends with Dr. Duren. And he tells him about everything he sees. And he usually sees things that we’d rather Dr. Duren didn’t know about.”

“A snitch,” Tommy concluded.

“You could say that.” Mick turned around and continued his path. He was surprisingly fast for a short man that he was - his head barely reached Tommy’s shoulder.

They went up the path and reached the asylum building.

“Alright. This,” Mick waved vaguely in the air, “is out beloved Feelgood Asylum. You feelin’ good here already?”

Tommy snorted. Mick clearly liked that.

“Our beloved asylum contains about seventy patients, give or take. About twenty nurses and then the director, Dr. Duren. He’s the one who’s gonna diagnose you and prescribe you stuff and all. Sometimes he requests help from other doctors when the case is tough, but usually he does it all himself.”

“And what kind of case is so tough Dr. Duren can’t crack it?” Tommy’s father spoke of him with much respect, even reverence. Dr. Duren also treated Tommy’s uncle, and, as far as he knew, successfully. Tommy never met him, but father said he was living peacefully in the Yorkshire countryside. If your treatment goes well, you can join him there, father used to say. That was before Tommy’s psychosis revealed itself, though.

“I think you’ve already met him,” Mick said, looking pointedly at Tommy’s cheek. Tommy couldn’t help but touch the bruise the blonde guy left him. It hurt a bit, and the cheekbone began to swell, but overall Tommy felt pretty good about the fight. He didn’t back off and stood up to himself.

“You saw the fight too?”

“No. But everyone had heard about that already. You did the right thing. Wharton had it coming.”

“He really is… something else.” Tommy recalled the inhuman shriek and shuddered. “Is he always like that?”

“Usually not. But he’s had a bad spell for a couple weeks. Spent almost all of them in a padded cell. Guess that makes a person a little bit… mad.”

Tommy snorted again. Well, at least this old man was fun.

“And what was the consensus on him?”

“I don’t know, but if I were those doctors, I’d say: pour more cold water on the bastard. He surely needs to cool down.” Mick started walking again, and Tommy followed him. “The problem is, he hurts other inmates. Some complain of sexual assault. Some… well, don’t react well to his antics. My advice is: keep away.”

“Alright,” Tommy said. What he saw and heard of Wharton convinced him this was rather sound advice. He only wished Wharton would also keep away from him. For some reason, Tommy doubted it. People like him tended to be pretty vindictive.

“Now, the asylum itself is Building A. Nurses live there – in Building B.” Mick waved at a smaller building a little bit farther away. It was connected with the asylum by a corridor. “We’re pretty far in the countryside, and they can’t commute here from London every day.”

“Looks much newer than the asylum.”

“Because it is. When asylum housed less people, nurses lived in the same building, just in a different wing. Good times those were. Peaceful.”

“You were there already?” Tommy stared at Mick. He didn’t look that old – in his forties, maybe. How long had he spent in the asylum?

“You heard Michael – I’m one of the oldies,” Mick huffed. He looked clearly displeased, and Tommy decided to drop the topic.

“And then the world went crazy, and people went crazy, and the asylum had to take in more and more patients. And now we’re all cramped in here, two, three in a ward… I heard you’ve got it rather fancy?”

“What, the ward?” Tommy clarified. “Fancy” was the last word he could come up with to describe it. But other patients probably didn’t have even that. “Well… the curtains are full of holes and the carpet needs washing, and I’m pretty sure someone bled on my mattress, but otherwise yeah, you could say it’s fancy.”

“Oh-oh, look at him, he’s got holes in his curtains!” Mick teased. “Spoiled little brat, you are. Why aren’t you wearing a robe like us peasants, anyway?”

“Du- Michael said there’s none in my size.”

“Well,” Mick looked him over critically, “your size is probably hard to match, that’s true. But don’t you worry – they’ll dress you up like the rest of us.”

“Oh no,” Tommy moaned. “These look just horrible.”

“You’re in an asylum,” Mick reminded sternly. ”It’s not a beauty pageant.”

“Maybe that’s why you all are crazy here,” Tommy grumbled. “Humans need beauty to live.”

“Humans need food, water and air to live. Everything else is secondary.” Mick waved his hand and headed up the path.

“Now, that’s the laundromat and that’s the kitchen. You might be assigned laundry or kitchen duty some time – if you’re normal around knives, of course.”

At home Tommy was forbidden from going to the kitchen after a maid discovered four knives under his pillow and two in the pockets of his coat. He decided not to tell Mick that, but the old man with his piercing gaze probably saw something anyway.

“So do the patients do all the work around here?”

“Well, not all. There are cooks and laundresses and cleaners. But there are too few of them to service all the patients, so yeah – we have to help ourselves.”

“And why don’t just hire more people?”

Mick stopped dead in his tracks, looked at Tommy, saw he was serious and erupted into laughter.

“Oh, sweet innocence! You do know that services cost money, right?”

“Of course,” Tommy pouted, crossing his arms on his chest in a defensive gesture. “It’s just… doesn’t the asylum have sponsors?”

“Sure it does. But sponsors are also not bottomless moneybags. And they, unlike patients, haven’t doubled in numbers in recent decades.”

“Oh.” Tommy’s father was one of the sponsors, and he never mentioned the asylum was underfunded. And Tommy’s father had no problem with money. Couldn’t he invest even a little in the place he sent his son to?

“Yeah. So that’s why we have to work. Dr. Duren says, of course, that labor humanizes and ennobles, but we all know that’s just an excuse.”

Tommy imagined himself mopping a bathroom floor and shuddered. Working like a servant, getting all sweaty and dirty, fumbling with psychos’ dirty underwear or washing the dishes – horrible, horrible! Maybe his privileged status would also absolve him of all this labor? He was already noble enough.

Duff would probably tell him to get off his high horse, and as much as Tommy liked him, that attitude irritated him. They all may be psychos here, but even among psychos there is variation. He needed to ask Dr. Duren about it. He was friends with Tommy’s father, surely he would cut Tommy some slack?

“And you sure need to learn what real labor is like. You look like you haven’t washed a dish in your life,” Mick added ruthlessly.

Well, he was not wrong. Tommy was used to considering that a reason for pride, but somehow the only thing he now felt was shame. And then – anger. How dares this lunatic shame him?

He just opened his mouth to express his resentment when Mick frowned, staring at the nurses’ dormitory, and then quietly cursed.

“Damn it. Nurse Simmons! He can’t see us!”

Tommy followed the path of his gaze and saw the nurse from the canteen. Even at this distance he instilled some primal fear in Tommy. Especially now, when he was walking in big strides, his hands were clenched into fists, and his coat half-soaked in water.

Mick dashed to the nearest tree and hid behind the trunk. From there he gestured to Tommy to hide behind another tree, which he did.

They watched the nurse enter the building, and even from their spots could hear the bang he slammed the door with.

“Hm. Someone got him real mad.” Mick scratched his stubbly chin. “We better go back to other patients.”

[schlock-luster-video]

On January 29, 1999, Gus Van Sant's remake of Psycho debuted in Luxembourg.

[nellarw95]

Happy Birthday Vince 🥳🎂🎈🎁🎉

March 28,1970

Buon Compleanno 🥳🎂🎈🎁🎉

28 Marzo 1970

[olivrsm]

[thebrideofreanimator]

blocking the bates motel tag so i can fixate on psycho in peace hashtag self care

[patwrites]

I have a sudden urge to find the Psycho remake, but I’d rather just watch the original

[dawnthefox24]

*Rody is getting yelled at by a costumer with his wife  by the menu and is trying to explained calmly to him that it changes daily and which is beyond his control*

Rody:*is trying not to be rude to the guy*...Sir I understand how you feel but the menu changes daily if you want I-

Random guy : LOOK BUDDY I WANT THE MAIN FROM YESTERDAY NOT THIS CRAP!!

Random lady: *looks nervous but is also embarrassed as she has her appetizer *Honey please...

Random guy : NO THIS IS UTTER BULLSHIT!!

Rody: I know but please lower you're voice and-

Random guy : *Throws his date's  food and dumps wine on Rody*SO USELESS, ARE YOU INCOMPETENT THAT YOU CAN'T DO YOU'RE FUCKING JOB RIGHT !!!

Random lady: *smacks her date on the head*HONEY!! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU APOLOGISE TO HIM!!

Rody:*feels everyone looking at him as he stays quiet trying so hard not to break down he needed to get away*

Random guy : I'M NOT APOLOGISING FOR SOMEONE WHO CAN'T DO THEIR FUCKING JOB!!!!

Random lady:*looks at Rody* I'm so sorry...

Rody:*wipes some of the food off and leaves as he heads towards the kitchen * excuse me...

-Rody enters the kitchen as the chefs looked at him before walking over too Vincent quietly -

Vincent: *looks Rody and noticed the mess on him* Rody what happe-

Rody:*breaks down crying in front of him and didn't know why* C-can I...Vince...Can I go h-home...

Vincent:*eyes widen and takes his hands to get him cleaned up * come were going to the bathroom and EVERYONE GET BACK TOO WORK!!

The chef's:*freaked out and went back too cooking*

Vincent:*takes Rody too the bathroom and starts cleaning him too the best of his abilities *Deep breaths rody...what happened

Rody:*breaks down crying even more*.. I...I tried to tell...t-the costumer...t-that the menu c-c-changes daily and-

Rody:*hugs Vincent sobbing against him*

Vincent:*tensed up a bit before hugging Rody rubbing his back*I'll talk to him okay Rody stay in my office and wait their okay.

Rody:*coughs a sob but nodded against him* I-i'm sorr-

Vincent: Don't apologise Lamoree, I don't tolerate other assaulting my workers mainly you Rody.

Rody:*whispers* thank you..

Vincent: Go to my office and I'll deal with the customer okay

Rody:...okay....

Vincent: *pats his head and took Rody towards his office leaving him their* Sit down and I'll make sure the chef's will make you some tea okay...

Rody:*nods softly with his head still low*...Okay.....

Vincent:*leaves Rody as he heads leaves the room* *the chef's felt very tense and scared with Vincent with how calm and angry he was as the cooked a bit faster not facing him*

Vincent:*noticed the woman and the man arguing with one another and went over too them and just stood waiting to be noticed*

Random lady: WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT!! ASSAULTING A SERVER OF ALL THINGS!!!

Random guy: IT DOESN'T MATTER!! HE HONESTLY DESERVED IT AND CLEARLY HE WAS-

Vincent:*clears his voice cutting the guy off* Was what?

Random guy: *turns his heads towards Vincent * who the fuck are yo-

Vincent:*pours a glass of water on the guy head staring at him* I'm the chef of this establishment and I don't tolerate people who harass my servers.....

Random guy:*gets up pretty pissed as he ready to punch Vincent for pouring water on him* THE FUCK IS YOU'RE PROBLEM!!!

Vincent: *has his arms crossed*Oh I see, you didn't have a problem trashing my waiter but a little bit of water ruins everything....

Random guy: CLEARLY A CHEF WOULDN'T POUR A DRINK ON THE COSTUMER SINCE-

Vincent: *Grabs the knife and stabs it into the guy's sleeve cuts him off now glaring at him * The costumer is what? Is right?

Random guy:*is now in total fear* Y-YO..You're a psycho!! T-The fuck is wrong with YOU!?!?

Random woman:*covers her mouth in horror and seemed to be frozen in place unsure what to do*

Vincent:*grabs the guy by the collar* THE MENU CHANGES DAILY YOU CAN GET THE WHAT YOU WANT DO YOU UNDERSTAND!!!

Random guy:*in a state of fear*...yes sir...

Vincent: I CAN'T HEAR YOU AND SPEAK UP !! YOU'RE IN MY RESTAURANT!!!

Random guy: *closed his eyes* YES SIR!!

Vincent:*takes the knife out from the sleeve and smiles like as if nothing happened* Alright now you are banned from this place and I apologise for the inconvenience that occurred

Random guy:*gets up and leaves taking his wife with him*let's go....

Random lady:*fallows her date still shocked by what unfolded*....

Vincent:*watches them leave and went back too check up on Rody*

*Once back inside Vincent went too the office and found Rody on the couch looking down before he sat down next too him*

Vincent:....I Had a talk with them Rody, their banned from this place...

Rody:....

Vincent:....Do you want anything? Tea?

Rody:...Tea would be nice....Am I fir-

Vincent: No you're not fired and yes I'll make you some tea don't worry...

Rody:...The guy didn't hurt you right?

Vincent: No not at all and Rody if things like this happened again you come and get me okay

Rody:*leans against Vincent a bit and closed his eyes feeling a bit more calm * Alright...Thank you Vince

Vincent:*feels his face heat up and looked away from him a bit* Anytime and Rody take a break I'll handle the orders okay...

Rody:... I'm sorry...

Vincent:*rolls his eyes and gets up* Stop apologising you did nothing wrong besides Rody, you're the best waiter I have okay so don't let that asshole make you think other wise got it Lamoree

Rody:*looks a bit surprised at Vincent and smiles* I...You think I'm-

Vincent: *waves his hand* Yes, Yes now what type of tea do you want?

Rody:*smiles*Earl grey would be nice....

Vincent:*nods and leaves his office to make the tea* alright I prepare you some tea, just rest up Rody okay...

Rody:*nods and watches him leave before smiling softly too himself* Thanks Vince