Go on the bash

Duffy was grinning as she threw blow after blow down on Al. She thought she had the Irish lass in good when she felt two fists bury into her teits. She let out a yelp and stumbled off the bar stool and onto her back. She clutched her tits and snarled up at Al. "Fine a ken a green wench like ye would swing er dobbs at another lasses' udders!" She barked out and then grinned from her position on the floor. If she could, she would throw a boot out at Al if she got close enough.

Al would grab a random half-empty glass and tossed its contents at Duffy's face and upper body. "Piss of. Ye'r shag-hole's stinkin' up the whole bleedin' bar."

She'd move in to grab her by the hair and sock her back to the floor, but if the kick hit she'd be sent stumbling sideways until she collapsed belly-first, leaning over the pool table by the pachinko machines.

"Och!" She gasped as drink was thrown in her. She was lucky she got the kick off and got enough time to hop up. "Hau could ye tell whit tha mockitt bog-snatch a yers on th' turn!" As she ran at Al, she grabbed a glass with the intent of smashing it over the irish woman's head. In the ancient arena of barfighting these were the tactics and since Al had already gone for Duff's sensitive breasts, she figured this was the next step up.

Al rose her head a bit just before the glass smashed over her head, screaming half in pain and half in anger, stunned by the blow. Whether or not she was still attacked, she'd try to reach across the table to grab a pool cue to defend herself with.

With a grin on her face, Duff would move in and try and get close to Al. If she could she would try and throw a punch into Al's kidney while she was reaching for the cue.

Blind to her foe and cursing the luck of it, Al was wide open for the kidney punch. "BUH!" she blurted, but then whirled around and swung the butt end of the stick to smack Duffy across the chin. She'd try to angle it to force her back against the pool table as she held the stick on both ends, pressing it across her throat to choke her against it.

"Try yer fightin' when I'm facin' ye, lassie! See how ye fare noo!"

Duff took the pool cue tot he face hard and spit as she was clocked. She stumbled backwards, unable to keep from being spun and pressed against the table by the pool cue. She brought up her hands and grabbed the pool cue with her own hands, trying to keep it from outright choking her. even the sturdiest of her opponents usually dropped by now if it was one on one. By the time she was gettign ready to leave no one would even fight with her if they didn't have at least two friends backing them up. She had to give this lassy credit but she wasn't going to until after things were settled. Duff's face showed strain as she fought to push the cue off of her. In this slight moment of calm, despite the struggling fihgtresses, the bar had wide eyes of anticipation as they watched the two foreigners striggle.

Al pushed with all her strength down on the cue, surprised at how stubbornly she was able to resist her attack.

"Ye got some spunk, lassie... not such a kilt-wearin' dandy as I'd thought, aye?" she grinned, making it seem a bit like real flattery. She'd try bending the cue here and there at angles to try and slip through her grip

Duffy grinned as she to tried to jockie for position. "Aye! An I nivver a thought ye'd be maer d'an a bonnie Irish pogue! Git a seta dobbs on ye an a sheepherder's gob. Wull ye no byde a wee? Go on the bash an pick this up efter a tipple?" She said grinning up at Al.

Al hesitated a bit, seeming to think it over (the rest of bar just wondered what was said). The Irish rumbler eased up on the choke, hopping off of her with a rapidly fading air of wariness. She leaned on the cue like a walking stick and offered her a hand up. When she was on her feet, she'd just give a short laugh and grab her in a quick hug. "Althea. Mates call me Al."