In for a half-penny?
Brute could not believe his ears, he was utterly flabbergasted at this sailors actions, but still slightly more than mite curious, like the fabled lion listening to the mouse pleading his case, wondering why this git just did not seem to understand just whom the bloody hell he was toying with?
Finally, Brute just said…
“Yeah numbskull, I do, why?
Almost to a man(and women) the whole bar was now absolutely focused on the goings-on between Brute and the sailor Jackie, never before had anyone taunted the bartender with such nerve and still was be able to stand upright…
Jack just grinned for a few seconds before speaking apologetically...
“I truly do feel bad for playing me little jokes on you, it’s just me personality understand, and I am unable to control it after a few pints of the houses best, you understand my dear most gracious sir…?
Brute started to say something in answer, but Jackie quickly cut in…
“Just hear me out kind sir, and ye may find it worth your while for putting up with ’ol Jackie this evening!”
Jackie picked up his empty shot glass, looking at it as he spoke.
“See this shot glass dear, most reasonable, sir? If you would most kindly take it to the far end of your rather prettily polished bar and hold it up like you were cheering me.
I will bet your half penny against this pile of notes laying on your bar… No, Lest double it …”
Jackie lays another £40 in notes upon the pile.
“There now, £80 against your Half Penny says I can spit out this entire bit of tobacco I am chewing, and every bit of it will land dead centre inside that shot glass… If so much as a drop of it lands anywhere else, you then win the whole pot, every last pound, and pence….!”
Brute thought for a very long, thoughtful minute, trying to see all the angles, and finding none that could lose him the pot. In his mind he reasoned, how could anyone accomplish such a feat, especially a cocky drunken sailor with more mouth than sense?
“Ta, you’re on lad !”
“But I hold the money until after your bet!”
“Agreed !” Jackie said and pushed the notes up against the shot glass. Brute picked up both the glass and notes, walked to the far end of the bar, about 3 meters, and held the glass up against his spotless white apron.
The entire bar was still in a hush, and actually had become quite crowded now as word had spread across to some of the other drinking establishments, whose curious patrons had come over to witness the goings on…most hoping to be entertained with watching a rather thorough beating of a certain thin sailor..!
Jackie just grinned…
“Ready?” he asked, on your count of three than sir…”
One, Two, Three