Inebriated In Bruges. (Rock Werchter pt. 3)

The man looked down at his cards. They were good cards. Through the smoke that circled their heads he peered at the three other men. One of them, younger, but with strangely thinning hair, flinched. Probably smoke in the eye, the man thought. Regardless, he pondered, I can take them. Easily. In thirty seconds the hand would reach him and the game would be over. Straining against a smile the clattering that rang out down the hall of the hotel reception went unnoticed until the hand of a small boy grasped his side of the table.

"Please.. please. You have to help us. We don't know where we are."
The words gasped out of the boy who was not a boy at all, but a tiny man. His beard was soaked in sweat and cheap belgian beer wove through his breath. Behind him, a large, older man with glorious ginger locks collapsed on a vacant chair. They both exhuded a nervousness that was only conquered by their exhaustion. Behind them, a silent blonde woman stood transfixed on the hotel's silverware, making the man uneasy about their new guests.

After about half an hour of consoling his unfamiliar friends, he came to realise they were tourists, hence the drunken english and sporadic bursts of french and german. They were lost and, rather than just give them directions that could easily be forgotten after passing out under a windmill, he decided to drive them back to their ramshackle abode.

"So what have you been up to tonight?" The kind man asked, trying to break the foreign tension in the car.
Robbie struggled with the question, countless beers flooded over clear images of their evening. "Um, well. We saw some things from that film. In Bruges. Then we drank really big lemony beers. And then we found a bar in which we could smoke. That was certainly a highlight. Then we got lost. The rest is rather a blur."

Minutes later the generous man parked in the campsite and, instead of murdering the three of them, allowed them to leave his car and go back to their tent. Refusing all offers of financial recompense he put his seat belt on and drove away.

He was a good person.