One young man was lucky to avoid a good beating last night, after accidentally bumping into Tony, in the pub, and sending his pint of lager flying in all directions.
Now, as you well know, Tony spilling his lager because of a shove in the back would normally result in a smack in the mouth, but because the festive season is almost upon us, and Tony was feeling happy, he merely gave the offender a mouthful of abuse, and told the little bastard to buy him and me a pint each, to compensate us for losing good lager because of another man's carelessness.
The young man - an office worker - was quick to oblige, and relieved to have escaped having his own blood splattered over his shiny new suit, he even went as far to buy us a double whisky each.
Tony thanked the young man for his gesture, and told him that although the pressures of modern life mean we need to run around at five hundred miles an hour, he should take time to slow down, unless he wants to be dead before he reaches twenty-five.
Sid, the landlord of our favourite pub, was most impressed by Tony's display of understanding, and was only too pleased that he wasn't obliged to wipe another man's blood off the bar, just like last week, after somebody else accidentally bumped into Tony, scattering his packet of peanuts across the carpet.