Conversations with a drunk

Once again, this is a conversation in between two people with narration mixed in. I really tend to make characters with a very singular purpose and this poem is about a drunk and conscience. The bartender doesn't so much represent anything physical so much as conscience in general. Not too much more to say. This is a rather difficult poem to perform because not only am I switching characters, but voices and personalities. The drunk speaks in slurred speech of course, the bartender goes from stern to teary, and the narration mixed in. Try to keep those voices in mind when you read. Enjoy

If he said he wasn't drunk
he lied
no one can take
10 beers

"Well it's time to go
the bar is closed.
Last call
ten minutes ago."

"Hold on!"
the bartender said to the man
"give me your keys,
you're too drunk to drive."

The man held up his keys
and mockingly said, "oh you mean these?"
The bartender smiled and said, "sir,
You know you are too drunk to drive."

"I'm not too drunk (hiccup) to do nothing"
"Well your terrible grammar shows your drunk"
"I'll be fine."
"Give me the keys," the bartender insisted.

"What are you going to be?" the drunk says with a laugh
The bartender pulls out a gun and says, "I'll have your ass."
The drunk stood there
and thought

He was perplexed
Not knowing what to do next
"Give me the keys," said the bartender
as he raised the gun

"Fine, ok, you win
Here's my keys," he said with a grin
He held out the keys
for the bartender to take

why such a rhye look?
the bartender thought as he took
they keys
away from the drunk

The bartender stepped back
and with himself aghast
he saw the barrell
of his own gun

In the exchange of keys
the bartender didn't give heed
to his gun
which now pointed at him.

"Oh how the tables have turned,"
he said in a drunken slur
"Now,
give me my keys."

one million thoughts rushed through the bartender's head
and something inside the bartender said
If he gets those keys
He will kill someone.

"I am fine
and I can drive,"
he said
"So give me the keys!"

"I am sorry, I can't give them to you
I can see the poor girl that you will drive right through
I cannot give you the keys,"
the bartender said in his tears

He raised the gun
and prnounced a drawn out number "1"
"You have until 3
to give me the keys"

After 1 came 4
and the bartender was sure
that he
could not have his keys

but the bartender would die
and the battle for nigh
because he
would get his keys

As much as the bartender knew
that the situation was through
the bartender had to decide
the means

The bartender could be killed by the man
the keys ripped from his hands
and the little girl
would still die

or the bartender could be released
just give him the keys
and the girl
would still die

"1..........2.........."
He started to count in order and the bartender knew
next would be three
He had to make a decision

The drunk got to three
and the bartender held the keys
two people were murdered that night
by one man

A child, by a car unseen
and a lonely bartender, whose conscience was clean.