Warning: Some use of strong language is used in this story

He gripped the ancient relic. The tendons on his hand stood out. He gazed fiercely around him. Jolts of powerful energy radiated up his arm. This wasn’t any ordinary relic. Red ribbons cascaded down its side in layers. A gold crown adorned the top. The gold lions to either side of the crown proclaiming its majesty with their silent roars. The shiny silver exuded ancient power.

Kevin roared as he lifted it high. The ends of his long single braid of hair dipped into the flagon he held in his other hand. With a snap of his head he pulled the braid from the cup and sent golden droplets arcing across the room. He pressed the flagon to his lips. White bubbles decorated his mustache like ocean foam. More golden drops streamed down his long beard as he pulled the flagon from his lips. The corners of his eyes crinkled with a smile as he looked out from his wide stance atop the bar.

“Come on you Fucks!” He roared “You’ll never walk alone!”

The bar erupted as cups were lifted and debauchery ensued. Kevin’s red Jersey bunched at the shoulders as he lifted his arms high. Nothing had ever compared to the power he felt lifting the trophy. Most could only ever dream of their team winning it. Here he was holding it. Touching it. He practically vibrated with the energy he could feel from it. His gaze went somewhere far away as he imagined the way he would describe this moment. The time he watched Liverpool claim the trophy from a bar down the street from the stadium. The bar still shook from the noise of the crowd celebrating in the stadium. He couldn’t wait to tell the boys. Scott and Sean were going to shit a brick when he told them. He jumped down from the bar top grabbing another flagon.

“To Liverpool! The greatest fucking football club in England!” He bawled. He drained the flagon and slammed it down as the answering wave of cheers encompassed him.