Donna was in the Dog and Scrotum when a posse from the posh end of town started in on a group of local girls.
“Bill,” she said to the barman, “call Big Eric, while I distract this lot.”
She weaved over to the dartboard.
Her first dart landed between the ringleader’s big feet. He snarled, so arrow number two pinned him to the wall by the sleeve of his oversized hoodie.
“Go home,” she advised, as the room filled with stevedores.
Eric walked Donna home, and she found out for herself why ‘big’ was such a fitting epithet….