For best post, within the same thread, from Mortimer:
It was nickle perogi night at The CheapWhiskeyDancer Bar....it was in mid summer around 7 years ago.
Oh it wasn't the nickle perogis that attracted me. ...I hate those vulcanized obsceneties anyway.
I was there to see the first Eskeemo cheap whiskey dancer. It was fabled her legs didn't even hint of stopping at her dupa and she could slam down 3 doubles after every dance as if they contained pinneappple juice and not FrankyFiveAngels Rye.
I came late...and they knew me there from my last visit when I cleaned out 17 Swedish military assault members and stuck their knives where cheese isn't made.
The bar was full.....and I love sitting at the bar.
I picked the toughest looking one to make sure there would be a message for all to enjoy.
I told him......" You're sitting in my seat."
He didn't like it.
Not the seat....what I said.
He replied.." Well I don't see yer stinkin' name on it."
I knew he didn't know me from the last time.
So I says......." No ..it ain't on my seat...it's on this....and my name is Colt .44." I pulled back my coat displaying a holstered Dirty Harry model." His eyes bugged
I smashed him over the head with a full bottle of OldGrandDad....as he slumped I picked him up and flung him about 20 feet across the bar.
I looked at all the dumbfounded retches and shrieked..."Anyone else wanna piece a me??"
They weren't interested.
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