D'ren leaned against the back of a chair acting a silent drunk, sipping a whiskey bottle. He eyed the newcomers carefully, but made sure nobody noticed. After sizing everyone up, he started to saunter away, back toward the bar, gazing up at the TV in the upper corner. He stumbled into a man as he slid his chair back to stand up.

"Oh sorry, mate," D'ren said, "perhaps ye should cast a glance behind ye once in awhile, yeah?"

The much larger human stood up, his bulk towering over D'ren by almost a foot. The large man's two friends stood up too; they appeared nearly as muscular, but not as keen to fight.

The brute said, "You bumped into me, [i]Mick[/i]."

D'ren pursed his lips and nodded slowly, looking away. He grinned as he turned his green eyes back up to the man. "What did ya call me?"

With a snarling half-smile, the man leaned down. "You're a pale, yellow-bellied Mick who's had more brown than he can handle."

His buddies chuckled. D'ren nodded. "I mean, that's very colorful." His feigned drunkenness ebbed away. "Pale, yellow, brown. Let's see if we can add some red in there!"

As he said this, someone turned up some [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZEr2xI7rP-4]Irish music[/url] on the classic jukebox in the opposite corner of the bar.

The Irishman launched his booted foot up toward his groin, but the brute caught it. No matter, because the brown bottle was coming down against the bald bastard's temple. Shattering and sending the whiskey and glass shards everywhere, D'ren turned to meet the bully's charging companions.

"Yeah!" D'ren shouted, "Now this is a party!"