…go for a couple of drinks. The Polo buys the first round and, when they get their drinks, BAM! The Polo downs his in one. He then looks at the Fruit Pastille who is sipping his pint and says, “Look at you, you soft nancy. Sipping that pint as if it were a cuppa. When I get you outside I’m going to kick your f**king head in. When I’m finished with you, they will be able to bury you in a matchbox.”
The Fruit Pastille finishes his pint and gets the next round in. Once again, he sips his pint and the Polo knocks his down in one. The Polo turns to the Fruit patille and says, “Right! That’s it you f**king wimp. When I’m finished with you they will barely be able to identify you from your f**ing dental records.”
Just then a Locket walks into the bar. The Polo leaps over the counter and cowers under it, shaking like a leaf. The Locket downs his drink and leaves.
The Polo looks out from under the bar and asks, “Is he gone yet?” The Fruit Pastille replies in the positive.
As the Polo orders another round the Fruit Pastille looks at him. “What was that about?” he asks. “Two minutes ago you were trying to convince me that you are tough, yet you s**t yourself when that Locket walked in.”
The Polo looks at the Fruit Pastille and replies “Listen, mate, I might be hard, but he’s f**king menthol.”
*Wah wah waaaaaahhh*
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