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Hey fool,\" a behemoth of a man spat drool dripping down his beard onto the back of Vincent\'s neck. \"This my seat.\"

Vincent rolled his eyes, just great another drunkard. What could he expect from a backwater world like this. He turned around to see the cybernetically augmented giant staring down on him. More brawns than brains.

\"Really,\" Vincent replied taking a tiny sip of his Vodka as if the man were a minor nuisance. \"Tell me do you know anything about real estate?\"

The brute looked at him puzzled. This wasn\'t supposed to happen! The weaker ones usually scampered off, and the stronger ones fought. What does he mean about \'real estate?\'

\"I don\'t know nuttin!\" he hollered trying to reassert his power over the placid man. He yanked an adjacent weakling out of his bar stool flinging the man the through a near by door. A minute drop of the man\'s green drink fell on Vince\'s black trenchcoat.

\"Aren\'t we the diplomat,\" Vincent observed smartly to the ferile, angry fellow before him. \"So... um whatever-your-name-is...\"

\"BIFF my name is Staff Sergeant BIFF,\" the drunkard interrupted. \"NOW give me back my seat! Or, or... You\'ll end up like HIM!\" He pointed to the lanky fellow he had thrown before, he was presently being carted off in a stretcher by the bar\'s medics.

Vincent smiled superiorly, this would be easy. He felt a transaction was in order. \"Well, well I\'ll tell ya what Staff Sergeant Biff you can have this seat for a price. If you can out drink me you get your stool back. If not, I\'m sure Moff here will get you a nice room at the inn down the street.\"

The behemoth wavered a bit in shock. He had never heard of this, the weasel was selling him HIS stool! He looked around the bar\'s dirty, grungy faces. Medics, engineers, traders, soldiers, all stared in suspense ready for his reply. He gave them a stupid look like he didn\'t know what to do next.

\"Um, um...\" Biff began wary of what this fast talking snake would do next. The small man raised his eyebrow in interest. Suddenly, a voice piped in from behind, \"You can take him Biff! Drink him under the table!\"

\"So Biff do you accept?\" Vince goaded the ox of a man.

Biff thought it out for a few moments. He was the strongest in the bar, he had more muscle than anyone else possibly more than this weakling. Why the weasel was only drinking shots nothing really big! This guy was a lightweight probably. He could do it!

Biff nodded confidently, \"I do!\" The bar patrons all began to cheer. This was a match that would go down in the history of the gritty backwater dive bar. A regular David versus Goliath.

Vincent turned to Moff, the bartender. \"Okay Moff will establish the rules of this game and judge the outcome!\" he announced to the patrons and Biff, who was smirking as if he had already won.

Moff raised his round hands to quiet the costumers. In his loud, baritone voice he made his speech, \"Thank you young man. I don\'t know many drinking games, so I\'m gonna go with the simplest game ever invented: Demonic Doctor.\" The crowd gasped. Demonic Doctor was one the strangest, most morbid drinking games ever created by man! Moff continued, \"The rules are simple: the bar\'s medics will implant IV\'s directly into both of your arms. They contain Satan\'s Serum, this establishment\'s most feared brew. It\'s so dangerous that it has been banned on most Republic worlds and is only used by techs as motor oil!\" The old bartender was putting on a spectacle rivaling that of the ancient Barnum Bailey. \"It\'s SOO dangerous that we will be requiring you gentlemen to sign waivers.\" The barkeep turned ringmaster produced two dusty dot-matrix printouts from beneath the scrap metal bar. \"The first to pass out or die (which ever comes first I can\'t predict these things) loses.\" He looked back and forth between the two confident men. He said a brief prayer in his head for the little one. \"Do you accept these terms?\"

Satan\'s Serum, Demonic Doctor, Vincent couldn\'t help but be amazed at the presentation Moff had put on. These boondocks had simple people, but sometimes they could really surprise a jaded traveler like himself. To be honest, he was expecting the Staff Sergeant to cut and run after that kind of show!

Of course Biff didn\'t. \"I accept!\" he yelled to the crowd signing his name in blue ink on the printout. Almost immediately a pair of medics, in over-the-top bloody aqua scrubs ran out with their IV unit. Vince refrained from laughing.

\"I accept, too!\" he hollered. There were cheers, clapping, and free drinks as the festivities commenced. As Vincent was being \'plugged\' into his IV unit by the bloody twin doctors, he noticed a few costumers pulling out their Personal Data Recorders. There whispers, transactions, and wagers between the swarthier residents. Everyone was straining for the best seats in the house. The match was about to begin.

A tall businessman in a brown top hat with the grin of a used car salesman strolled up Vincent. \"Why hello son,\" the salesman said with a friendly southern accent. \"Allow me to introduce maself, I\'m Thadius H. Brown, but you can call me Tom if you like.\" The merchant extended hand with its long white fingers to Vincent.

Vincent strained to figure out which hand to use, as his right arm was indisposed with the IV full of black Satan\'s Serum and Tom had extended his left. He merely feigned shaking the businessman\'s hand with his own left hand. There was a questioning look on the traveler’s face, as the friendly local hadn\'t stated his purposes yet.

Tom produced a card from his brown leather suitcase. On it was: THADIUS H. BROWN, supplier of trinkets and otherworldly beverages. Vincent was beginning to think these locals were an odd sort but he would play along his ship after all needed repairs and what was he going to do?

The merchant continued, \"Now as you well know no one, I mean NO ONE is these ere parts ever has won a game of Demonic Doctor.\" Vincent nodded his waiting to find out where the trader was going. \"I have a good feelin\' about you though son. Sumpin\' tells me youse a gonna this ere match.\" Vincent blinked his reply waiting for the man to continue. \"I put all my credits on you, and well if ya do win I have on simple favor I gotta ask ya?\"

Vincent asked suspiciously, \"What is that?\"

\"Ya start tellin\' people to trade with old Thadius!\" the salesman explained. \"They\'d listen to someone who one Demonic Doctor. All ya gotta do is say, \'I won cause old Tom gave me his best medicine!\' Then people\'d buy stuff from me.\"

Thadius had the eyes of desperate gambler on his last dollar despite his winning smile. How could Vince say no to the local? Well he caved and \'shook\' the tall \'supplier of trinkets\' hand again to seal the deal.

Meanwhile all of Biff\'s buddies were paying homage to their leader. He was after their staff sergeant and he was putting his life on the line. This was the most of amount of action the local militia had seen in months, so if Biff won he would sure go down in history as the bravest man on the colony.

Moff asked his demonic doctors, \"Are you ready?\"

They chanted in unison, \"Yessir!\"

The barkeep turned and stared Vincent smack dab in his eyes, \"Are you prepared to take this challenge?\"

Vincent nodded in agreement. He felt someone patting his back as if to reassure him of his victory.

\"I\'m READY SIR!\" the muscle-bound cybernetic soldier yelled next to Vince.

Moff smiled with a flurry of his arms he exclaimed, \"Commence the game!\"

With a flick of the switch pure alcohol ran through Vince\'s veins. His eyes rolled back into his head as his mind began swim. This Serum had a bite to it.

He looked at the patron\'s rapt in suspense of the game. Their faces began to morph; they became clouded in a mirage of smoke. The lights of the room began to change colors; a bright tapestry burned his eyes. Finally the world turned a dusty iron red as if the whole bar had relocated to a pre-terraformed Mars.

The voices became a garble of whistles, beeps, and hoots. They were melding to a single monotone roar. A roar that pierced and scratched at Vincent\'s brain.

His stomach churned as he felt he was beginning to lose consciousness. He had to stay awake, he was stronger than Biff! He fought with all his might, he focused on something bearable. There was picture of a tiny skiff off the coast of what he thought was Italy. He focused on the serenity among the chaos of the game. He imagined himself on the skiff enjoying the salty Mediterranean air. The near by town with its magnificent vistas maybe of sun baked stone. The sound of small celebration hummed from the sleepy town. The blue green mountains with their snowy peaks. A white sea gull glided past a golden yellow sun. All was good, all was perfect. Time stopped in this world, the boondocks meant nothing to him.

Vincent didn\'t know how much time went by minutes, hours they were lost to him. Suddenly he heard cheering as the Demonic Doctors unhooked him from the IV. There was a smile on the still Mars red face of Moff.

\"What happened?\" Vincent asked.

\"You won! Biff passed out after the first minute!\" Tom explained to the bewildered traveler.

The two men propped Vincent on their shoulders, the crowd hailed him as a hero. Really all he wanted to do was sleep. A local news reporter came to him, she asked, \"To what do you attribute to your victory in Demonic Doctor?\"

Vincent hesitated, oh yeah now he remembered Old Tom\'s medicine. \"Tom\'s, err Thadius\' medicine,\" he added with a smile, \"the best in town.\"

The reporter turned to the hovering camera, \"You heard it hear first Old Tom\'s medicine!\"

\"Vincent!\" He heard a familiar voice scream over the rabble. \"Vincent, over here!\" the voice cried near the door. It was his part Mikhail Donov, probably returning from buying parts for the ship.

Vince gestured toward the door and his partner. Moff and Thadius did there best to get him there without being mobbed. A mass of hands began patting Vince, as if they would somehow be closer by touching him. Moff used his burly arms to part the sea of admirers.

At the door, Mikhail put his hands on his hips and stared at Vince gravely. He was probably wondering what trouble Vince had gotten them in. He looked to Tom and Moff, \"I\'ll take him from here.\"

The two men nodded and placed Vince\'s arms onto the shoulder of Mik. His partner led him out into the cold night of the barren colony world.

When they were far away from the hubbub Mikhail said, \"Demonic Doctor huh.\" Vince only nodded he had a headache the size of the Grand Canyon. \"You really should stop cheating people at those drinking games Vince. Humans aren\'t as resilient to alcohol as you replicants are.\" Vincent and Mikhail laughed hysterically, already the nanites in Vince\'s android body were repairing the damage made by the serum. Nobody in the bar had suspected he wasn\'t human...

The Epilogue

No one saw Vincent or Mikhail after that night, they had long since moved on to the next port. The next adventure...

Vomit dripping down his uniform poor, and nearly dead, Staff Sergeant Biff was put on a stretcher for the hospital. There he hallucinated seeing actual Demonic Doctor\'s. After that he swore of liquor and never sat in his seat again...

As for Thadius H. Brown, well his business skyrocketed, literally. Old Tom\'s medicine became a staple of every local\'s cabinets, its familiar citrus tang said to \'cure all ills\'. Eventually GenoMed, a large interplanetary pharmaceuticals firm, would ask him for his recipe. He said it was children\'s cough syrup and became a trillionaire through royalties... You can buy Old Tom\'s Medicine at your local Jovial John\'s!

And Moff, well he realized he could make major money hosting games of Demonic Doctor. He quit his job at the bar and joined an interplanetary circus. There he became famous for his showmanship rising during the matches. He would eventually rise to the rank of Ring Master Extraordinaire!