One of my favourites of all time:
"A few nights ago Rory's Roger iron rusted, so he's gone down the battlecruiser to watch the end of the football game. No one's watching the custard, so he switches the channel over. A fat geezer's north opens, and he wanders up and turns the Liza over. "Now **** off and watch it somewhere else!" Rory knows claret is imminent, but he doesn't want to miss the end of the game. So, calm as a coma, he picks up a fire extinguisher, walks straight past the jam rolls who are ready for action, and plonks it outside the entrance. He then orders an Aristotle of the most ping-pong tiddly in the nuclear sub and switches back to his footer. "That's ****ing it," says the geezer. "That's ****ing what?" says Rory. And he gobs out a mouthful of booze covering fatty. He flicks a flaming match into his bird's nest and the geezer's lit up like a leaking gas pipe. Rory, unfazed, turns back to his game. His team's won, too: four–nil."
-Barfly Jack, Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels
