You have an idea, you stand from the table and move towards the cop. Drink in hand, you stand right next to him, "It's St. Patricks day, you're clearly a respectable man. Surely you can afford to have one drink before you go?" The cop scrunches his face as you talk to him "Boy, you smell like alcohol and spunk. I don't want anything to do with this pub if that's what goes down here." You take a large drink and let the beer sit in your mouth. The Cop moves to the door, as he begins to walk out, you move close to him grab his head and break into a kiss. The cop's eyes open wide in surprise, as you kiss you make sure he drinks the beer you had sitting in your mouth.
The cop resists the beer at first, but when you refuse to break the kiss he eventually has no choice and swallows it all down. You let go of him and stand back, Aron passes you a fresh mug "Oy, you're a clever fooker ain't ya? Hard parts done, let's watch the show." You and the rest of the patrons eagerly watch the cop. The cop begins to rub his eyes and looks dazed, the barkeep walks towards him with a full mug, in a mocking tone he says "Still don't want a drink?" The cop grabs the mug and looks at the barkeep "It is good beer, your customer there would be great if you hired him to bring in new patrons." Everyone in the bar gives a knowing laugh at that statement.
The Barkeep puts down a chair in the center of the pub "Sit here and make yourself as comfortable as you need" The cop sits and drinks the beer, eventually he starts scratching his body and looks around the room. "You said it's a cultural Irish pub right?". The Barkeep laughs "Course it is, ain't you see all the Irish blokes who're here?" The cop nods "Right, just didn't know if the Irish minded me..." The Barkeep cuts him off. "If you're wanting to strip, then strip."
The cop looks around the room nervously as he delicately takes off his uniform. He places it in a pile under the table, after another mug, he ends up taking off his underwear. Sitting naked in the center of this room is now this 50 year-old cop. Looking at his features, his body is flabby and hairy, he has some muscle under the fat, but there is definitely mostly fat. He is hairier than any of the Irish men in the bar, quite a feat for a non-Irish bloke to be packing that much hair. His cock leaks slightly with pre, as he drinks you see it getting erect, resting against his stomach hair at an impressive 9 inches. He absentmindedly strokes it, you and your mates all have your hands doing the same. As he strokes it he continues to drink, his drink spilling across his body as he grunts in pleasure. Where the drink spills, you see his hair change into the telltale ginger of an Irish bloke. The transformation then formally begins, his flab begins to shrink while his muscles grow. You see this start with his arms, they become muscled and defined, this change moves in a wave. As it reaches his chest, you see his flab being converted into muscles. The cop keeps his beer gut, but his pecs become more defined and hard. While every other bloke here is sporting a six-pack, looks like this cop is going to become a muscle bear of sorts.
With another drink, you see a change in his face. The cops wrinkles and lines begin to disappear as he becomes younger. His stubble grows thicker and more defined. His head remains bald, but it looks good with his muscle gut, hair, and stubble. In fact, you think this cop could pass for a biker now. As these transformations finish the cop cums, his seed shooting across the room. The barkeep passes another beer to the cop. "Oy, Roger. I've got a box in the back full of beer for those respectable blokes at the station. Mind taking it back to them for me?" Roger stands and begins putting on his uniform. "Course mate, we always enjoy drinking your brew. And the events after." The barkeep and cop go to a back room. You spend the rest of the night being the hero of the pub, it all goes into a haze as you drink, fuck, and drink some more.
In the morning, you wake up in a bed. Walking out, you find yourself entering the pub. Seems they've built some rooms for men to stay in. There's plenty of men drinking, most you recognize from last night, but some are new faces. Fresh Irishmen you think to yourself. You sit at a table, the barkeep approaches you and gives you your breakfast. "Alright mate, most of the city is Irish now. But there are a few wankers resisting us. Make sure you give them an Irish welcome for me." After finishing your food you reflect on the barkeep's words. Where would I go to find someone in hiding...