Who'd win in a fight? Kicky or Gus?

I agree with FreeDuck. Gus would fight dirty. He wrestles gators for fun. Kicky would high tail it outta there.

Who you calling Rabbit, Rabbit?

wanna rumble?

Wanna piece of me?

Let's change the name of this thread to "Who would win in a fight between dlowan and panzade?"

Kicky and I are friends.

Gus would never win - he is real thin and weak under those overalls:

dlowan, if you were just a little bit closer, say the Canary Islands, I would stroll over and rip your throat out.

Huh - I ain't all fur and fluff - I could easily beat Gus AND Kicky...




But - don't try to change the subject, Gus - you're in fer a hidin'....

I didn't type that! Oh my god! My evil subconscious is taking over.

Maybe Kicky and I will make a sandwich out of you, dlowan.

That might be fun. And very competitive.

Sandwich?

Huh - I'd turn yer both to breadcrumbs and feed you to the boidies...

watch it you antipod rabbit; I'll suck the carrot juice right outta ya with me fangs....

Huh! Just try it.

In the am.

I hafta go to bed now....but I will be there in the morning - like the darkest nightmare you have before you jerk horribly awake with doom at your throat.


Youall have a nice day now?

You would extend us the courtesy of a climax before you offered us as food to the winged vertebrates, wouldn't you?

typical ...too weak to cut the mustard...too old to lick the jar.

I was serving Gus at the bar when I noticed Kicky bust through the door. By the dialect that ensued I knew there could be trouble and that I had to do something quick to keep all hell from breaking loose.
So as they sat and glared at each other like rabid dog's waiting to attack, I mixed up one of my 'specialty' drinks, ingredients-

Fruit
Orange juice
Cocaine
Kolonopin

I call it "FOCK" for short. So I approached them and asked "hey, would
you guy's be interested in a "free fock"? Their on me? Being the cheap bastids they both are they quickly downed them and are now "out to lunch".
I have no idea what will transpire when they come to but my shift will be over and I will be out of harms way.

When they come to they'll puke their guts and out and you'll be fired.

I wonder why they reached for the glasses instead of pulling your low rise jeans down around your ankles. I'll ask them when they come to.

Joe

I can't be fired, I own the place.

My low rise jeans are spot welded to my hips, it would take a very strong man to get them off.

They wont puke, they'll just be free of backpain and the sniffles. Some paranoia may be there...