‘I’m not done talking to you.’ Jim pulled his sleeve from Wertz’ grip. He stuck his finger in the old man’s chest. ‘I said, I’m finished...’ Jim scowled back at him and then took his finger out of his chest. He picked his ten off the bar and then turned and began walking away. MacIver was standing halfway between Wertz and the front door. ‘How much do you charge for that beer I had?’ Jim asked him. ‘A buck, why?’ Jim slapped a single on the bar. ‘I’m paying for my own,’ he said and the continued. Here's one that sounds interesting."A rush of adrenaline flowed over Joyce in anticipation of the next game."The game is called Show Your Ass." Oh, my," moaned Joyce."So, shall we try this or call it a night? I want us all still to be friends tomorrow." Sally looked at each person in turn. "Someone needs to say when enough is enough." This is pretty innocent... listen," interrupted Jack. "Needed for the game-ten or twelve clothespins. You know, they are those little things you use to hang out. More

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