Haulling himself out of the booth and pulling on the surplus asbestos silver fire suit, Chip2447/OG1 heads for the frozen kegs.

    "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN and the rest y'all too. WE HAVE A TEENY TINY WEE SMALL PROBLEM.   SOME PISSY LITTLE WANNABE TRIED TO SABOTAGE THE GUNNIESS. I THINK I CAN TAKE CARE OF HIS LITTLE GAME. WHAT WE NEED ONE GOOD FART FROM EVERYONE. ONE GOOD FART AND DUCK FROM EVERYONE, INCLUDING THE DUCK AND THE CATS, ESPECIALLY THE CATS!"
PLEASE PASS THE GAS AND HIT THE FLOOR, IT'LL ALL BE OVER IN A SECOND. THANKS."

    Pulling the Scott mask on, and lowering the hemet, he ignites the oxy acetelyn torch. He holds the flaming tip high in the air, (better air up here, would hate to have a premature eja...explosion), he carefully approaches the hostile kegs.

    One quick glance around shows him that most everyone has complied, bodies are pointing their arses at him, a few bare azzed moons, must be to get the best gass mix, he thought. A few scrambling for the floor and a few more for the doors.

    "GAWD I hope this works." He says as he lowers the cutting torch into the dense methane.

    With a loud WHOOMMMMPFFFFFFF of displaced air the Tavern for one brief fraction of a second turns into a conflaguration of hell. The hole in the ceiling venting most of the heat and fire outward. Reports later indicated that the fire ball and mushroom cloud could be see fo hundreds of miles.

    The flashover was gone before most of the drunkards knew what hit em. He felt particularly sorry for those who had dropped their drawers, as the fire probably singed off all the hair on their asses.

    He emerged from the smoke with a big cheesy grin on his face. "TOLD YA IT WOULD WORK... BEER's flowing again...."

    Now where was that monkey, he thought he could teach the lil bugger to play ocarina....