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/ One dusty July afternoon, somewhere around the turn of the century, Patrick \
| Malone was in Mulcahey's Bar, bending an elbow with the other street car |
| conductors from the Brooklyn Traction Company. While they were discussing the |
| merits of a local ring hero, the bar goes silent. Malone turns around to see |
| his wife, with a face grim as death, stalking to the bar. |
| Slapping a four-bit piece down on the bar, she draws herself up to her |
| full five feet five inches and says to Mulcahey, "Give me what himself has |
| been havin' all these years." |
| Mulcahey looks at Malone, who shrugs, and then back at Margaret Mary |
| Malone. He sets out a glass and pours her a triple shot of Rye. The bar is |
| totally silent as they watch the woman pick up the glass and knock back the |
| drink. She slams the glass down on the bar, gasps, shudders slightly, and |
| passes out; falling straight back, stiff as a board, saved from sudden contact |
| with the barroom floor by the ample belly of Seamus Fogerty. |
| Sometime later, she comes to on the pool table, a jacket under her |
| head. Her bloodshot eyes fell upon her husband, who says, "And all these |
\ years you've been thinkin' I've been enjoying meself." /
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According to the Fact Sphere: "Avacados have the highest fiber and calories of any fruit. They are found in Australians."
In the spirit of William Shakespeare: Thou art a frothy, swag-bellied maggot-pie.