Clash of the Titans

I was spellbound by the beckoning finger of the Traynor. I couldn't help myself, he's always had some sort of hold over me and I found myself mesmerised, walking limply towards him when all of a sudden the doors burst open and in jumped Stephen Purcell!
'Quick Graham, run!' he shouted and blocked the Traynor as he tried to rise from his seat. I leaped towards the open door just as the Traynor dodged to the side of Purcell, slamming a beauty into his kidneys. Purcell winced but countered with his handbag as the Traynor flailed to avoid the sharp edges of the buckles, all the while I was looking back in fear that the mighty Traynor would squash Purcell and reach me before I could jump onto the 44 bus. I shouldn't have looked back as I slipped on a rain sodden copy of the Celtic View (oh the irony!) and collapsed onto my chin, biting my tongue. From behind I heard a crash and panicked as I saw in the distance, Purcell lying in a heap, his Farrahs around his belly in an obscene wedgy and there in front of me was the Traynor.
'You've had this coming for ages, you mincing little squirt' he rasped. I closed my eyes and heard nothing. I opened them again and Traynor was at the bar.  Purcell in a last throw of the dice had ordered doubles all round and the Traynor couldn't resist, giving us time to limp away to the safety of Stravaigin.

Once there, Purcell and I examined our wounds. 'Come into the toilet and we'll clean up our grazes' he whispered to me. I tentatively walked into the loo behind him, grabbed him by the hair, spun him round, dropped my corduroys and stuck one right up him as he squealed like a goose. Then I sneered, spat on him and left him in shock, shaking on the floor.