father was a fighting dog.”
  Mom told me dad was a fighting dog... And this guy, Joey, he's pretty big for a Doberman, mom told me that dad was big too. The mix thought, continuing to watch the fight. Could he be my brother? No... He'd look like me, or at least like a Shepherd. He could be my half-brother.
  The pure-breed dog threw the Pitbull out of the bar. He dusted his paws off on his thin coat, growling after the fleeing dog.
  “Ya better run you mutt!” He barked, then turning and joining his friends back at his table, grinning. His pals were patting his back and barking their approval of what Joey had done. Zak just kept watching from the bar, wondering if he should go and talk to Joey. The Doberman and his pals grabbed their drinks and started talking about the fight.
  Zak would keep his eye on Joey, hoping to get a private moment to talk. Just to know if they were related... And if they were, he'd like to hang out sometime, but for now, all he could do was wait. Now he had an actual reason to stay in one spot, and maybe he could get a job here at the bar. Joey would have to come up eventually and get drinks for him and his pals.

  A few days passed, and Zak had managed to get a job at the bar. The only problem was that Joey and his friends hadn't been coming around lately. He would take every night shift, and try to get the day shifts but his boss wouldn't let him. He would even wait around during his off hours, not getting any sleep.
  When he tried to sleep, he wasn't able to because the question he had been wanting to ask Joey the past few days bugged his mind. Did he know who his dad was? Was he the same dad? Zak desperately wanted to know, but since that fight at the bar Joey and his rovers hadn't been there for drinks. He hoped that Joey wasn't banned from the bar for the fight and continued waiting.
  Zak had no idea where else Joey could have gone, so he stayed at the bar pretty much 24/7. One morning he was sitting at a table in a corner, drinking some kind of soda. The mix had had so little sleep that he didn't remember what he had ordered, barely paying attention. His eyelids slowly started to droop, leaning his muzzle on his paw. He was so tired of waiting that he fell asleep right there and nobody noticed.
  How long he slept, the Doberman mix didn't know. Out of nowhere he was shaken, only a little at first, but as time went by it got harder and harder until he jolted up. His muzzle had slipped from his paw onto the tabletop, both his paws beside his head. What he was confronted with when his vision wasn't blurry was a pair of stern, red eyes. It was Joey.
  “Hey mutt,” Joey growled, “you're in our spot. Sheesh, I leave town for a few days with my pals and already some weird mix takes over our table.” The pure-breed Doberman shook his head. “Look pal, before I have to drag you off, it's time you move your stub tail up-'n-out.”
  Zak was so shocked to have Joey talking to him after all the time he himself wanted the first word that he couldn't speak. He could only stare, to which Joey raised an eyebrow at.
  “Ya deaf or somethin'?” He asked. “Quit your staring and get a move on. My pals are gonna be here soon for drinks. We kicked some major tail over the past few days and we're gonna be celebratin', got that?”
  Zak swallowed the slight lump in his throat. Not only was he a bit afraid of the glare in Joey's eyes, but this was the opportunity he was looking for. He took a deep breath and looked Joey right in the eye. If he was going to get his questions across, he had too act just as tough as this guy. He then spoke.
  “Well excuse me, but tables don't exactly have names inscribed on them boozehound. What if I happen to like this table and don't feel like moving? You gonna fight about it?” The mix growled, flexing his muscles a bit. He may have been a bit smaller than the pure-breed, but he was just as tough and ferocious.
  Joey, on the other paw, was very slightly taken aback at the fact that a smaller dog like Zak would be stupid enough to challenge him. He stared at the dog, as if trying to find something familiar about him. Zak waited, breath held, waiting for what Joey would do next. Quite unexpectedly, he chuckled.
  “Ya got spunk dog. I like that.” Joey smiled a bit. “The name's Joey. What's your name mutt?”
  “... My name is Zak. Zachary M. Slumdog to be specific.”
  “Slumdog huh?” Joey took a seat across the table from Zak, leaning it back on it's two back legs, crossing his hind paws and scratching his chin with a forepaw thoughtfully. “Sounds familiar. Where'd ya come about it?”
  “My mom told me that it came from my dad, a pure Doberman, like you. Said his name was William Joseph Slumdog.” He began, and he was cut off from explaining as the front legs of Joey's chair slammed onto the ground, the bigger dog reaching across and grabbing Zak's chest fur.
  “You've gotta be jokin'! He was my dad before I ran off and moved to this town!” Joey barked in the younger dogs face. “There is no way I can be related to you!”
  “It's true Joey. I can tell you all my mom told me about him, and maybe then you'll believe me.” The mix explained. He felt Joey's grip relax slightly as he considered listening to this strange dog. Zak hoped Joey would listen to him.
  “... Awright, I'll hear ya out. But if I find out your playing me false, a certain mutt isn't going to be living.” Joey growled as he let Zak go and returned to his former position, hind paws crossed and the chair back on two legs. Zak wondered where to start.
  “Well, I think I should start with what my mom told me first. Here's what she told me...” And so the mix began explaining how Will was in the bar, drinking after a fighting match that ended in his favor. He went on, telling the story his mom told him and his city life. The pure Doberman never interrupted, but did light a cigarette while Zak was talking.
  That smoke is making me gag... Zak thought, nose scrunching a bit at the smell. After he finished the story up he sat silent, waiting for Joey to speak. The older dog would inhale some smoke, point his muzzle up, and blow a few smoke rings up thoughtfully. He was silent, doing this awhile until he put the horrid-smelling thing out in an ashtray.
  “So... What your saying is that, if what you say is true, your my brother.” Joey said slowly, scratching his chin some more.
  “Half to be precise...” Zak muttered.
  “Yeah that.” Joey said, letting the chair's front legs fall back to the floor, continuing to keep his hind paws crossed. He tapped his left paw's claws on the table, continuing to think. “Well, if you are my brother, I guess it wouldn't kill me to hang out with ya awhile. Smokes are already handling that.”
  “Hey Joey, who's this dumb mutt sitting at our table?” The two dogs looked over, seeing Joey's friends standing there. The pure-breed's eyes narrowed.
  “This 'dumb mutt' as you put, is my brother.” He growled. The other dogs suddenly looked uncomfortable. “So then,” Joey started, lighting another cigarette and chomping it between his teeth, staring at the speaker, “who's the dumb mutt again?”
  The dog who had spoken was a bloodhound. He quickly shook his head, obviously knowing the Doberman's fighting reputation. “Nobody in our group Joey, even the new guy is okay. What's his name, and how'd you find him?”
  “His name's Zak, and he was sleeping on our table, waiting for me apparently.” Joey switched seats to where he was sitting by his younger brother and thumped his back. “Blood's gotta stick together right?” He asked, ruffling his half-brothers head fur. Zak was glad that he was being accepted so easily and nodded, though he wished Joey would put the cigarette out.
  “Hey, barkeep, how about the usual drinks for my friends and bro?” Joey barked. The barkeeper nodded and started to get the usual beers ready. “Ever had a beer bro?” He asked, looking back over at Zak.
  Zak shook his head. “I've mostly been drinking Sprite, with a few others here and there.” All the other dogs laughed, including Joey. The young mix looked curious. “What's so funny?”
  “You've been missing out.” Joey replied. The beers were brought, and one Sprite. Zak was about to take it but Joey pushed the drink back to the edge of the table. “Take this to another table that wants it and fetch Zak a beer.”
  The waitress nodded and went to give the drink to someone else. She was soon back with the beer and gave it to Zak. Joey winked at his brother and upended the glass he had, drinking all of his drink down.
  “Go ahead bro, give it a try!” The pure-breed said after he drank, watching his younger brother. Zak picked the glass up and gave a small taste of it. He really liked it, so he copied Joey's maneuver, drinking the whole thing down. This made Joey laugh.
  “His first, and he drinks like a true pro! Bring us another two over here!” This went on for the rest of the day, everyone at the table drinking and enjoying themselves. Joey told Zak when he had left home and how good his life was. After everyone had had their fill of beer, all drunk out of their minds,