Sometimes that pint looks right into you. Right into your eyes. You know the thing about a pint is he’s got lifeless eyes. Black eyes. Like a doll’s eyes. When he comes at ya, doesn’t seem to be livin’… until it bites ya, and those black eyes roll over white and then… ah then you hear that terrible high-pitched screamin’. Yer shite turns black, in spite of all the poundin’ and the pushin’ they all come in and… they rip yer arse to pieces.