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The other f**kin' week there, doin' the f**kin' Volley with Tommy, playing pool. I'm playing like Paul-Fuckin'-Newman by the way. Givin' the boy here the tannin' of a lifetime. So it comes to there, during the last shot, the deciding ball of the whole tournament. I'm on the black and he's sittin' in the corner looking all f**kin' biscuit-arsed. When this hard c**t comes in. Obviously f**kin' fancied himself, like. Starts staring at me. Lookin' at me, right f**kin' at me, as if to say, "Come ahead, square go." You ken me, I'm not the type of c**t that goes looking for f**kin' bother, like, but at the end of the day I'm the c**t with a pool cue and he can get the fat end in his puss any time he f**king wanted like. So I squares up, casual like. What does the hard c**t do? Or the so-called hard c**t? Shites it. Puts down his drink, turns, and gets the f**k out of there. And after that, well, the game was mine.

Posted By: Brandonio, Apr 25, 10:26:43