This is the LONGEST I’ve EVER stayed out of a fight!!! I must jump in!!
pulls the masterlock padlock out of his pocket and holds it like brassknuckles
jumps on freekfeelys back and starts pounding him in the temple
Bring it on fucker!!! hehehehehahahhahah!!!
:: opens up an economy sized can of whup-ass complete with a double-whammy for Whammo::
enters bar, surveying damage… decides there hasnt been enough…
Ya want some of this Freak? I’ll rip your tounge out and use it to paint hy house.
Smashes chair over freaks head You too whammo…
people people!
c’mon, where’s your sense of decency and fair play? for shame!!!
and where the hell is my boilermaker? if it was good enough for newhart, it’s good enough for mee.
::Norman enters, looks around for an easy victim…
Sure, you had to knock Coldie out before I had a chance to discuss his attitude re a certain European football tournament with him. Damn - I’m NOT going to hit him while he’s lying down, could someone prop him up against something ? Yes, I can tell that there’s not much furniture left, couldn’t you just lean him against a wall orr something ? Much obliged.
Oh, and I’ll have a drink - whatever is in an intact bottle, barkeep! Sheesh, you would’ve thought people had enough style to only smash the empty ones.
:: discreetly checks watch
Bloody hell, ChiefScott might get here any minute now. Better get in some serious drinking while it’s still possible to get at the bar. Barkeep, I’ll have another of whatever this is. And a bag of peanuts.
Hmmm - is it me, or did it just get very quiet in here ?
:: Norman enters meditative drinking mode, discreetly keeping an eye out for any renewed mud-wrestling action.
Coldfire gets back on his feet and downs half a bottle of JD
Good morning, you wusses! Ready for some more action??
Coldy waves a broomstick around, Bruce Lee style
Hey, if it isn’t Lars Höbenströkenson… did I hear you make a football wisecrack there?
You’ll have to get up earlier to catch me, clog-boy!!!
jumps off the pool table and clotheslines coldie
silent_rob whistles as he opens the door to the bar
Hmmm?
silent_rob looks around, and whistles some more as he non-challantly walks out
“Lars Höbenströkenson”, indeed - I’ll soon make you regret those poorly chosen words. Who won the bloody game after all ? <curses> Well, so we lost. Not as if anyone ever gave a hoot, hrmpf!
And who brings a broomstick to a bar fight, anyway ? Hey, careful with that! - I was REALLY getting to like that drink, you bastard! Go do your Bruce Lee impression somewhere else - it reminds me more of inspctr. Closeau & Kato. Clogs do not go well with karate kicks anyway - now look what you did to that mirror!
::throws sad remains of drink at Coldie. Nicks broomstick while Clog-boy takes evasive action. Throws broomstick at bartender.
Well, sic transit etc. - barkeep, I SAW you trying to hide that bottle of Glenlivet. Now pour me one, and forget the measuring cup. Thanks, and keep the broomstick.
Right, let’s get some serious drinking in before the place gets overrun with Americans again. I’m not sure I could stand watching another round of mud wrestling without being somewhat inebriated.
pours Lars Smörrebröd a Glenlivet
Drink up, ya Danish bastard. You’ll need all the booze you can get to ease the pain of the asskicking you’re about to receive 
Good thing I brought my Camcorder this time. Don’t disappoint me, guys!
Ok, where’s my drink, Coldie Clogs?
Hey Globe-trotter, here’s a drink for ya!
pours pitcher of Labatt’s over Globe’s head
cold enough for ya?
Listen, fellas, I just came in for directions. How do I get back onto I-93 from here? Is this west or south of
WHOOOOOMPH
::the Dave-Guy gets blindsided by a boot in the head::
Awright, you punks, who wants to be first?
::takes out his 3-battery aluminum flashlight::
I just need a skull to cave in…
Android walks in, England shirted, skin headed, tattooed from head to toe, more scar tissue than skin and asks
‘Who the f*** spilt my beer ya furrin bastards?’
How are YOU calling furrin, you Limey Wanker! Be glad we don’t set you on fire straightaway with that sissy shirt on.
Here, have a Guinness. You need one, with the state your national team is in. Drink up, and prepare to be thrown around the room.
Time to make Dave and android my personal bitches!!
hurls table and breaks a bottle…
ggrrrrr!!!
strikes pose for all the ladies
Lets Rock!
Over here, Myrr!! Is that a strawberry slushee I see?
::evil grin::
Here, Myrr, you have something on your shirt…
::twirls Myrr around and dribbles cold slushee down the inside of his shirt::
::runs:: WOO HOO!!!
You and which army, Cloggie ?
OK, I KNOW it’s not an original line, but I’d like to see YOU think up good one-liners while keeping Dave and that infernal flashlight of his at a safe distance with a tableleg. Here, take THAT.
Say, not that it matters, but what are we fighting over ?
android - don’t - I said DON’T - throw the Dutch guy at me. There’s an intact window over there, see if you can hit it.
::points to window while swinging tableleg in a low arc.
Oh, so sorry, were those your shins ?
::Norman retreats to end of bar and draws himself a Weizen.
At least this Danish furriner knows how to spell Weizen 
What are we fighting over? Is it important?
If anything, we’re fighting over who gets to break the last intact window. Lemme see if I can toss this li’l Canuck chick at it.
picks up Globe-trotter and starts swinging her above his head
Hey! I’m just an innocent bystander.
Put me down. NOW.