a beautiful thing
August 27th, 2008“My god! What happened to you?” the bartender asked Richards as he hobbled in on a crutch, one arm in a cast.
“I got in a tiff with Martin.”
“Martin? He’s just a wee fellow,” the barkeep said, surprised.
“He must have had something in his hand.”
“That he did,” Richards said. “A shovel it was.”
“Dear Lord. Didn’t you have anything in your hand?”
“Aye, that I did -– Mrs. Martin’s tit.” Richards said. “And a beautiful thing it was, but not much use in a fight.”
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