My tit is on fire, but I grit my teeth and thrust it over your nose and mouth, looking for the ultimate coup de grace. The thrust unbalances us and we roll off the table. As I tumble through the air, all i can think of is scratching your eyes out, rather than breaking my fall. I land heavily, winded by your overweight frame. As the Irish bitch rises to her feet to finish me off, i lash out with my legs, knocking her to the ground again.