Daily Flash Fiction Challenge

"When the party is over all that matters is the blues," Jerry stated as he slugged down some Jim Beam whiskey.
"You live what you say, man. You're slugging booze right now," Riley commented.
Two men played pool on the table in the center of the dimly lit bar. They both wore sleeveless jackets that said "Satan's Worst" on the back with a skull and crossbones beneath the name. A hard crack came from a man making a shot.
"I didn't say all that matters is the booze. I said all that matters is the blues," Jerry answered.
"They're both the same. You can't have one without the other," Riley responded.
"Good point," Jerry said as he turned up his bottle again. Large bubbles passed through the alcohol as he drank.
"Here. Let me have some of that," Riley said as he reached for the bottle.
"Hey, Jerry. Mike and Bob have just left for the Black Diamond! Somebody needs to stop them," Nathan shouted from the other side of the bar.
"Those stupid idiot bastards! Don't they know that those gorillas will kill a guy just for looking at them funny?" Jerry shouted.
"What do you want to do about it?" Nathan asked.
"Nothing. We told them not to go over there. They've got to learn their lesson. We'll settle the matter with them when they come back," Jerry said in a grim voice. There was a low rumble of motorcycles passing by outside.
"If they come back," Nathan commented.
Thirty minutes later there was the hard metallic sound outside of heavy bullets hitting motor cycles. All the men in the bar ducked. Jerry crawled to a window. The bodies of two "Satan's Worst'," motorcycle gang members lay dead next to a bunch of bullet ridden motorcycles.