Krugman's a spindly little guy, but get a couple of Maredsous in him and he'd challenge a grizzly bear. I remember one time we were upstairs at Maggie's and he was pounding that Flemish slop. Three large frat rats came in and started popping off about how the flat tax was the solution to everything when Krugman hauled back and flung a HUGE loogy into the Stella Artois one of those misanthropes was holding.
"There's your fucking flat tax, assholes," he spat. "Taste it. Taste the booger flavor."
The wingman clipped Paul with a shot to the jaw and down he went. The guy with the Artois was kicking at Paul's head, but Mr. Nobel had his darts in his paws and managed to hold them points out, so the guy kept stabbing his foot with every kick.
I managed to roll Paul over the balcony and he landed on a table surrounded by bowheads, after which we beat our retreat. Good times.
