Ofori sat quietly in his usual corner observing and sipping on his Star beer. The hot, dimly lit, smoke filled room was occupied with people, some drinking and others dancing and grinding to Azonto; a new type of music.  Auntie Bee was the owner of The Dot Drinking Spot. Her bulky frame stood behind the counter wiping used glasses clean and taking orders.

The Dot was Ofori’s solitary place; he went there every day after work, to think. Think about his ruined life without his nagging wife or annoying children disturbing his train of thoughts. He gulped down what remained of his beer and sighed deeply. There must be more to life than this misery, he thought to himself.

He looked up to see the muscular man enter the drinking spot. The man he nicknamed Mr. Macho had bulging triceps and biceps, he looked like someone who had let the weights he lifted discipline him.

Mr. Macho as usual walked straight to Auntie Bee, flexed his muscles and ordered, “One bottle of Star or else!”. She hurriedly removed a bottle of chilled Star from her fridge and handed it over to him. He gave her his wicked smile revealing the gap in his teeth, it was rumored he lost them in a fight with the police while escaping a robbery at the harbour. After drinking, he left just as smoothly as he came with no one standing in his way; no one wanted trouble with him.  Free beer was his right, and the consensus was unanimous.

Ofori meanwhile needed a refill, he checked his pockets, he didn’t bother to own a wallet. Without much thought, he decided to gamble with his luck. He stood up purposefully and marched to Auntie Bee’s counter. He could sense dozens of alcohol-reddened eyes trailing him all the way. Ofori placed his skinny arms on the counter and ordered in the deepest baritone voice he could muster, “One bottle of Star or else!” then he flexed his skinny muscles.

In a flash, he felt the cold hands of Auntie Bee around his neck, squeezing tightly; he could feel his eyes bulging out. He held on to Auntie Bee’s lethal hands and struggled in vain to unclasp his oesophagus.  The demons who talked him into undertaking this suicidal mission had already fled. He could see the anger in her eyes as she squeezed. “Or else what?” she asked through her gritted teeth.

Ofori was attempting to respond, he could barely breathe, with his last gasp, he whispered “or else pure water”.  Auntie Bee loosened her grip, the bar resounded with laughter as his body hit the cold hard floor of The Dot drinking spot. That was the last sound he heard before he lost consciousness.