There's cold steel in my palm like a lover's last touch, and I'm pumping round after round into the bastard and his thuggish crew. The alcohol roars in my veins and I let out a gleeful yell as Irish blood spurts in geysers, skulls collapse and spray bone chips, metal shards and gray matter. The cheap chandeliers fall from the ceiling and shatter with huge gouts of flame which catch on spilt alcohol and set the whole joint ablaze.

And then there's this crackling blast, and the old barkeep's taser goes off like a lightning storm.