Approach the no-nonsense Bouncer

You cut ahead in line, catching shit from the other drunk hooligans as you circle around the stanchions. The bouncer looks up and glares at you as you approach, raising a hand when you're in front of him.

"No entry, dude," the bouncer stoically responds.

You stop in your tracks and look at him dead-on, trying to read the man's personality. A few dude-bro's in line behind you start making jeering remarks toward you.

"Fuck him up!" calls someone from the line, motioning an imaginary beer can in your general direction. Being the cool cucumber you are, you turn to look back at the bouncer, who hasn't moved his hand from its position.

"Back of the line, bub," he says, turning 1950's gangster.

You look the man up and down; heavy-set, probably ripped, there's no doubting he could best you in a fight; but that's not why you're standing there...