- That's da spirit, little girl!he said while laughting
- Oi and I trough' ye were just kiddin' when ye mentioned da three corsairs. 'nyway around I'll cut their lil' thingies if that's true.he bursts laughting and streches his arm for the glass...
Caitlin looked at her glas, still half filled, and decided to bottom it up in a single go. She hicked again as she put the glass down, giggling afterwards.
This stuff is pretty strong.. Ah probably can't resist against anythin' or anyone after a few more glasses.
She winked at Henry with a mischievous grin
Ya know, ah think ah rather go ta your place when we're finished. Ah always wondered how yer place looked like.
Nick looked up from his business at the bar at the noisy couple of Mollys drinking at one of the tables.
"Oi!" he shouted mockingly, "jus' because ye're gettin' in the pants o' a fine Molly lass don't mean ye' have teh' shout it round me' pub makin' us single Mollys feel left out lad!"
He pointed to one of the older drunks sitting at the bar.
"Old Bill here ain't had no action other than his wrinkled left hand in feckin' years! Show some respect feh' the old boyo!"
"Aye well ye' ain't exactly a charmer O'Flannigan ye' ugly feckin' bastard!" retorted Bill drunkenly, sloshing whiskey over the bar top as he gestured flainingly with his arm at Nick.
"Well I got a certain rugged edge teh' me though Bill," Nick chuckled back as he wiped up the spilt whiskey with a rag, "ye're jus' an old wrinkly little cretin ye' are."
Bill slurred something unintelligible and tried to throw a haphazard punch over the bar at Nick, but lost his balance on the stool and fell sideways onto the floor where he lay, snoring loudly, much to the amusement of the other patrons.
"Feckin' eegit," Nick laughed, leaning over the bar to look at the sleeping old man...
Quote:Dublin Miner: I am Gallic admiral earning money in Bretonia.
- Al'right al'right now calm down ye ugle!Henry yelled back at Nick
- Caitlin, I thin' I could use sum company in meh room,Henry said with a serious face then smiled and bursted out laughting:
- Of'course after I'm done with da scotch! Moooore scotch her' ye lazy morons. Da gool ol' Henry pays good!Henry yelled as he felt asleep on the table.
Caitlin sighed as Henry landed his head on the table, shaking her head.
Ya freakin' moron...She whispered to herself as she got up from her seat. She put her arms around Henry, and pulled him off the chair, onto the ground. She gripped his wrists tightly and dragged Henry with her towards the exit of the pub, taking a pile of trash with them. She looked slightly embarrassed
Ah swear to Eris. This jus' has ta happen ta me..
Caitlin said, shaking her head again as the couple left the room
Nick O'Flannigan stormed back into the pub from a legthy absense, and went back to the bar to relieve Jimmy, the shift bartender. In his right hand was a laquered wooden plaque with a small inscribed brass tag under a blank space. In his left was a hammer and a set of long nails.
"Oi Jimmy, shifts up," he said, obviously angry at something as he went behind the bar and began scouting a space to hang the plaque.
"Bout' feckin' time Nick," said Jimmy, "I tought' ye' was goin' teh' be gone feh' feckin' ever an' I'd be stuck servin' these pillocks all night!"
"Just feck off an' collect ye' pay from the till lad," Nick snapped back as he dragged a bar stool behind the bar to stand on.
Climbing onto the stool and balancing himself precariously, he began to nail the plaque to the wall. The brass tag had been crudely inscribed with the words...
HERE HANG THE BALLS OF THE MOLLY TRAITOR CIARAN QUINN
"Now I just got teh' get the fecker," Nick mumbled to himself as he hammered in the nails...
Quote:Dublin Miner: I am Gallic admiral earning money in Bretonia.
A torrent of laughter erupted from a crowded table, followed by a roar of consternation, and the hard crack of a fist hitting a mans face. A chair broke, bottles and pints spilled on the ground, and the laughter turned to cheering. "I toldja too many damn times Ree, ya damn basterd!! I AIN' NO LASS!" followed by another loud crack.
The man on the ground, solidly built, jumped to his feet in a flash, and his fist connecting even faster. The man yelling, a tall, skinny fella, took the blow in the nose and dropped like a sack.
"I no ya ain' a lass Fi-on-na!" *laughter* "ya jus' foight like one!" *laughter*
Ree turned around, dusting off his hands, working his jaw, when a mad warcry erupted behind him, and the tall skinny bugger jumped on his back, and started wailing fists in every direction around his head - his legs buckled, and went down on his knee's, pitching Fionna forward.
the cusses were drown out by cheering and chanting, as a fight was obviously in full swing.
Ree was on Fionna in an instant, hammering home fierce blows into his stomach, each time pain flared over Fion's face. But he he grit his teeth in fierce anger and determination, and rammed too good blows, one on the hard cheek bone, the other on Ree's ear. That hit took a bit of his excitement out, and gave just enough for Fion' to shift his full weight to the right, and reverse positions - so know Fion' was on top, raining punches into Ree's face, and the big man trying his best to put blows in Fion's ribs...
It was a sunny friday when the young MacEbbestad loafs in to the pub. Hes making noises and the others at the pub understands that he's already drunk. He goes to the bardesk and stands next to a older man with a big beard and a smelly breath.
You're new here huh? says the drunken oldie.
Ye but i eint new to drinkin', says the much younger MacEbbestad.
Wats yar name lad?
MacEbbestad... Robin MacEbbestad.
The man gets quiet and then falls on the floor. MacEbbestad Bends down to check the mans condition. Then the man rolls over so that his face is pointing up. He looks MacEbbestad right in the eyes and then starts to laugh. Oi lads, the man shouts. We have a new lass here, Huahua.
The man sits up. MacEbbestad grabs his throat and tries to strangle him against the bardesk. I.AINT.NO.LASS, shouts MacEbbestad.
Okay,okay, whipers the man. But when he tries to get up MacEbbestad takes firm grip of his neck and bashes his head against the bardesk. Then is MacEbbestad leaving with everyone looking at him. The man is left unconscious at the floor.