Quote from William Rennick:
Tell the story of the Furman drubbing.
It was at Schweitzer upstairs in the bar sometime late in the evening. Me and a couple work buddies were just fuckin' around after skiing. We start arm wrestling and after I beat both of them next thing I know there's a line of guys waiting to take me on.
Fuhrman (sorry I didn't spell his name right the first time, talk to my lawyer) was there with like eight or more of his posse for a birthday party I guess. They kept the bar open after hours for them and they musta thought me and my guys were part of the party. The waitresses start stripping (ya, people got fired) and it turned into more of a lap dance fest. Alcohol, weed, testosterone, and nudity...all the fixin's of a pig roast (pun intended).
I don't know exactly what pissed Fuhrman and his boys off, the fact that I beat him and his guys arm wrestling or that the waitresses were lettin' me feel them up and I mean all the way up. Anyway tempers flared and we were outnumbered, but after a brief lesson in physics and motion and a view of the ceiling they sent our table a platter of shrimp, bought our drinks and ended the night amicably. I heard the tab was around 5k.
He's bigger than he looks on tv. I don't know him. All in all I'd have to say he handled himself publically much better than most, given the situation. That goes a long way in my book, regardless of who you are.
If you were hoping for a tale of broken arms and bloody noses, I'm sorry. I can usually end a fight long before it gets to that point. I came to grips with my anger a long time ago. Fuhrman was beat and he knew it albeit intoxicated. He didn't make a fool of himself by refusing to give up. Just took his licks and bowed out.
So now do you want to hear about the time I mowed Kurt Cobain's lawn, before he blew his brains out?
