Irresistable Force; Immovable Object.

Another Friday morning in Joes.
Its like a fucking Septunagerian Safari Park.
My old bud, Jimmy G. is here as usual, plus a hovering daughter, primed to pull the Jameson plug at any second.
In the In-Dentured corner, the redoubtable Joe E.

This should be good.....

(primed by my mention of a book-signing Im organising next week, by Turtle Bunbury, son of Lord and Lady Rathdonnell, this ensued...)

Joe; "He IS the son of the Fuckin Lord! I knew him, man and boy! The LORDS SON!
Jimmy G; "Fuckin blasphemy if ever I heard it. The priest should be told."
Joe; "You are NOT LISTENING, you half dead half deaf BASTARD!! He is the son of LORD RATHDONNELL, sure werent we NEIGHBOURS for DONKEYS YEARS!
Jimmy G; "Another two small wans, please Liz..."
Joe; "And his MOTHER is a SAINT!!! and a LADY!!!"
Jimmy G; "There is no such thing as a Protestant Saint"
The Daughter; "C'mon, Da, time to go."
Joe; "Dont let that HOOR drive, he'll be DONE be the GUARDS!!

There was more, but I might leave it for another time.