Chapter 77

Request for recommendations!

Murphy ordered a dozen beers and kept toasting with James Franco. Alcohol could bring two people closer, and he had been under a lot of stress lately, so this wasn't a bad way to vent. ☆→

As time passed, the bar began to get busier. More and more people entered, and from the second floor, the seats on the first floor were almost full. Many people came up the stairs, looking for suitable seats on the second floor. Just as Murphy finished another beer, a fat man with glasses walked over and sat at the table behind James Franco.

Unlike the others, he was alone, sitting with his back to James Franco, seemingly in a bad mood. Murphy vaguely heard him order a bottle of vodka.

James Franco put down his bottle and pointed at Murphy, saying, "You think I can't see through your act? You're just fooling naive girls like Carey Mulligan."

His mouth reeked of alcohol, but Murphy didn't care. Neither of them had drunk less, and he retorted, "You're smart, almost castrated by a naive girl!"

He deliberately emphasized the word "castrated," mocking him without mercy, "If I hadn't stopped her, you wouldn't have a dick now!"

It seemed that wasn't enough. Murphy burped and added, "You could have saved a step in your gender reassignment surgery!"

Clearly, he had drunk too much.

James Franco's old face showed a bit of embarrassment, "I... I..."

He swallowed, trying to argue, "We were just rehearsing!"

With too much alcohol, his voice naturally got louder. Fortunately, the bar was already quite noisy, so no one paid attention to them for the moment.

"You, Jim!"

Even though he was drunk, Murphy didn't forget why he was there. He raised his finger, pointing at James Franco and tapping it a few times, "You're an ungrateful pedophile!"

"Me?" James Franco pointed at his own wide-open mouth, clearly also drunk, "What does my pedophilia have to do with you? If it weren't for you..."

"If it weren't for me," Murphy interrupted him, emphasizing again, "You wouldn't have a dick now!"

"You..." James Franco had just taken a sip of beer and almost choked. He swallowed it quickly and raised his voice, "Even if I didn't have a dick, I wouldn't fall for your tricks again!"

"You admit you're a coward?" Murphy chuckled, "I know why you don't want to join my crew. Because Carey Mulligan is there, and you're afraid she'll castrate you."

"I..." James Franco stiffened his neck, "I... I'm afraid of her?"

Despite his loud voice, anyone could tell he lacked confidence.

Murphy shook his head, "You're a balls-less guy! I really wonder if you've been abused by other underage girls."

James Franco slammed his hand on the table, making a loud noise, and shouted, "Absolutely not!"

His voice and the sound of the slap were very loud. Murphy deliberately covered his ears, and many people around looked over, eyeing James Franco curiously.

"You damn... " James Franco roared behind him, "Can't you let a man drink in peace?"

The fat man who had been sitting behind James Franco stood up, his face red behind his glasses, clearly also drunk, and was staring at Franco angrily.

It seemed he had been enduring for a long time. The fat man shouted in a voice no less loud than James Franco's, "You balls-less faggot, if you don't shut up, I'll shove your head up your ass!"

"Shut the f*ck up..." James Franco spewed a string of curses and stepped forward, grabbing the fat man's collar.

Both of them had drunk a lot, and alcohol acted like a catalyst.

The fat man didn't back down either. He pushed James Franco's chest, and his strength was clearly greater than Franco's, pushing him back several steps until he stumbled next to Murphy. If Murphy hadn't reached out to steady him, Franco would have fallen.

"You f*cking..." James Franco spewed more curses.

Before he could finish, the fat man rushed over in two steps, grabbing James Franco's neck with one hand and reaching for the beer bottle on Murphy's table with the other.

Murphy immediately stood up. No matter what, James Franco was his companion. If he got hit with that bottle, it wouldn't be a matter of brains splattering, but a bloody head was certain.

He couldn't just sit there and watch James Franco get hit.

Just as the fat man picked up the bottle but hadn't swung it, Murphy lunged forward much faster, his right fist hitting the fat man's cheek like a rock.

Murphy didn't know any martial arts or combat techniques. His fighting skills were all honed in prison brawls. His punches were simply fast, accurate, and brutal.

For some reason, the fat man felt as if he had been hit by a mad bull from his hometown farm. His glasses flew off, his head snapped back, and his whole body retreated, stumbling back several steps until he crashed into his table, half of his body falling on it.

Squinting his small eyes behind his glasses, he vaguely saw that it was the companion of the balls-less guy who had hit him. He tried to stand up and charge over, but his head suddenly spun, and he fell to the floor with a thud.

Lying on the floor, he shook his head hard, feeling a bit better.

"What are you doing?"

A shout came from the stairs, and several security guards ran over, separating Murphy, James Franco, and the fat man. The leader shouted, "No trouble here. If you want to fight, take it outside."

This was Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills, and the bar often had celebrities, so the security guards were relatively well-trained.

Two security guards came over and stared at Murphy and James Franco, while another watched the fat man. The leader made a gesture to leave, and the others raised their hands, ready to push them out if they didn't go.

"We'll leave on our own." Murphy spread his hands, supporting James Franco, "Let's go."

James Franco pulled away from Murphy's hand and staggered forward, "I can walk, I don't need your help."

Although he was drunk, he wasn't completely out of it. As he walked, he glanced back at Murphy, his eyes showing surprise. He hadn't expected this selfish guy to help him.

Murphy followed behind James Franco, with a few security guards between them and the fat man with glasses, and they were escorted out of the bar.

Once outside, the security guards withdrew, no longer paying attention to them.

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