My Night at O’Riley’s

By Scott Gordon Richards

Last Saturday night

I got in a fight

I was out at Sally McGee’s

She put on a pout

She wanted a stout

Over to Timmy O’Riley’s

We went out to that pub

And ordered some grub

Then slid to the floor for some dancin’

The tunes were loud

There was quite a crowd

Drinkin’ and laughin’ and prancin’

After too many rums

Me feets was all thumbs

It was like unto a geek tragedy

First I didn’t know

I’d stepped on a toe

Of mean ‘ol Willy McConahey

The look on his face

Was right outta place

His jaw was oddly in joint

I seemed not in favour

His fist began to waver

At me he was meanin’ to point

I asked him why

But he spit in me eye

And poked his finger in me chest

“I’ll hit you so hard”

“your kids’ll be scarred”

I hoped it was only a jest

I knew I would lose

Because of the booze

So I took a step back but stumbled

His girl Mary Anne

Into I ran

And ass over head she tumbled

He let go a bellow

As hot as a kettle

And picked me up by me shirt

Peace I implored

But his knuckles bore

Into me chin and it hurt

I hit the floor

made me tail sore

Peace I asked nicely pleadin’

But Willy instead

Kicked me head

And I lay there profusely bleedin’

Now you might ask

He took me to task

Why was I not defendin’

In a moment o’ weakness

I forswore forgiveness

And for William I wished a rendin’

Sally shot me a stare

Like a signal flare

A warnin’ dire and blight

She said to be cool

Don’t be a fool

He was larger and had me in height

I gots to me feet

And brushed meself neat

Then punched him as hard as I could

Me fist hit his jaw

Dismayed I saw

He remained right there where he stood

A kick to me thigh

And a thumb in the eye

The room started a spinnin’

I kicked him right back

But swift as a cat

He left the spot I was aimin’

I spun clear ‘round

Once again I found

Me butt back down on the floor

Me luck ran tough

Sally’d had enough

I watched her walk out o’ the door

Willy turned around

Yanked his pants down

And stuck his bum in me face

Air pocket or bag

I was gonna gag

Me heart stopped a good pace

I broke a glass

And slashed his ass

‘Cuz the wind in the air surely reeked

I told him “my son”

“Before we are done”

“I’ll see that you turn the other cheek”

About Willy’s kin

They’re wantin’ to sin

They’re of a dubious ecology

So I made him a monk

I kicked him in the junk

And ruined his chances at progeny

With a t’underin’ roar

He yelled and he swore

I gave him hellfire and brimstone

I could have gone on

With what he’d done wrong

But he had to repent on his own

Then it was done

But I hadn’t won

Me legs shook and wobbled

The booze had set in

The room began to spin

Passin’ out to the floor I crumbled

Next morn I awoke

It weren’t no joke

My infraction was nothin’ minor

To work I was late

And the people all gapped

I gave me sermon with a shiner

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