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this is Ellindt. Ellindt, this is ma mate Rod.”
    The enormous man blocks our view to the door where I can see light spilling onto the stairs leading up to it. Other guys loiter around the steps as if they were chatting to the king pin who is now in our way.
    “Ellindt? That's an unusual name,” he says, exhaling a long stream of spent smoke.
    “And this is Ewan, Ian, Jimmy, Malcolm, and Alan,” says Doug, as if I can see who the heck he's talking about with mister muscle in the way.
    “Nice tae meet ye,” says a scruffy slender dude with torn jeans and out of control shoulder length hair. He bullets his hand up to me, crowding me in even more.
    I shake it, not knowing whose hand I'm currently shaking. “Hello.”
    “Is she always this stuck up?” Roddie says to Doug.
    “Pardon?” I ask, staring up at him. I'm not intimidated at all. I don't care what the highland games are, muscles and might do not intimidate my kind.
    “Ye ignored ma question, Ellindt,” drawls Rod, looking down a chiseled nose in what can only be construed as haughtiness.
    The way he says my name, he hones the t to a point he could stab with. He says it like a filthy word.
    “It wasn't a question, Roderick. I distinctly heard a statement. Yes my name is unusual. I'm not making a big deal out of it. Your name is just as weird.”
    I'm now understanding Doug's worry. I'm having a battle of words on the steps before we've even reached the door. I guess I can offend his friends. Not that I was meaning to.
    “Ye'll huv'tae watch out fer this one,” he winks at Doug. “She's got numpty in her blood.”
    Doug looks from Rod to me, seeming uncomfortable, “She's a visitor, Rod. Cut her some slack.”
    Slipping my 'back off' stare down Rod's body and back up again, I can see why he opts to wear kilts. I doubt he finds jeans that easily go over calf muscles the size of soccer balls.
    Sucking on his smoke, he inhales deeply before flicking it over my head into the darkness, the indrawn breath sharp and dramatic, exhaling again just over my head.
    He aimed that expecting me to duck. He's trying to intimidate me. Standing here he gives me the evil eye, waiting for me to say something and make a big deal over the fact that I'm talking to a man wearing a bright red plaid skirt, but I stay silent, instead choosing to turn my charm onto the scruffy dude.
    “I'm sorry, Roderick here was in the way when we were introduced. Who are you?”
    “Alan.”
    “Nice to meet you,” I smile, sidling closer to Doug and slipping my arm through his, silently pleading for help to get past Roddie and his bad attitude.
    “Only ma maw gets tae call me Roderick. I'm Roddie tae you lass,” says Rod, taking a step closer so I'm eye to sternum with him.
    His pecs are so well built under that tight t-shirt they look like fake boobs.
    “Whatever dude,” I say, leaving Doug behind and squeezing past Roddie to the steps. Looking indoors all I can see is chaos. So much for my big escape from the resident bouncer and one man inquisition team.
    Women are squealing and giggling, noise deluxe is spilling out of the doors in an unholy cacophony of music and chatter, and I have no clue where I'm going or who anyone is. All I know is I'm not interested in Roddie's ego and entertaining it more than courtesy requires. Without looking back I stalk up the steps and across the threshold.
    “Pay the toll tae pass, lass!” yells at me.
    Moving faster than you'd think possible I'm grabbed from both sides and shunted down onto my knees. A cold can is pressed to my lips and a loud shluck of the seal being popped open reaches me through the smoggy pandemonium.
    Fluid gushes into my mouth and my hair is held so tight in someone's fist that all I can see is a hairy hand holding the bottom of the beer can to my lips, shotgunning the alcohol straight down my throat.
    The moment it's empty, as if they've timed it, the hands holding me down hoist me back onto my feet and I finally get to survey