Choose Your Weapons Carfully
 

Into a Belfast pub comes Paddy Murphy, looking like he'd just been run
over by a train.
His arm is in a sling, his nose is broken, his face is cut and bruised
and he's walking with limp.

"What happened to you?" asks Sean, the bartender. "Jamie O'Conner and me
had a fight," says Paddy. "That little ****, O'Conner," says Sean, "he
couldn't do that to you, he must have had something in his hand."

"That he did," says Paddy, "a shovel is what he had, and a terrible
lickin' he gave me with it."

"Well," says Sean, "you should have defended yourself, didn't you have
something in your hand?" "That I did," said Paddy... "Mrs. O'Conner's
breast, and a thing of beauty it was, but useless in a fight."

--
Skipper