The problem only got worse when Roberta Jean was drinking, which was why the bartender, Joey, was keeping a close watch on her on this particular night.

Joey was going to get Roberta Jean Richardson's ass out of the bar and back onto the street at the first signs of trouble.

He figured he would, in this manner, keep Roberta Jean from hurting herself or others. More likely others.

Sitting beside Roberta Jean at that moment was her very best friend Bertha.

Bertha Klemmer.

The woman was not a calming influence on Roberta Jean. Not at all. Roberta Jean's equally tough friend's appearance on the bar stool next to the blonde at the bar did not make Joey the bartender feel any better.

This was double-trouble as far as he was concerned.

Bertha was famous in and around Painted Post, Pennsylvania for her many tattoos which literally covered her body.

Her hair was dark.

Cut short.

Butch.

In spite of the fact that it was a Friday night, the bar was not crowded. There were a couple of guys shooting eight ball, and some girl that looked like she was still in high school, wearing tight jeans, kept playing the jukebox. Everything was calm. The calm before the storm.

"Another beer?" Joey asked Roberta Jean. His voice was low.

"Sure, fill her up. I want this to be the sort of night I can't even remember in the morning." Roberta Jean said.

"Bertha?"

"Yeah, fill her up. It'll be a cold day in hell before I can't chink with Roberta Jean one for one," Roberta Jean's equally tough friend said with a toothy grin.

Joey could see that there were gaps between Bertha's teeth.

Roberta Jean was wearing some tight jeans herself on this night. Her denim trousers were so tight that they left nothing to the imagination. Anyone who cared to look could clearly see the cleavage between Roberta Jean Richardson's buttocks – not to mention the cleavage between her vaginal lips in front.