Act Three
In which Barney has his revenge.

By the time Barney had finished in Major Toms, a drinking establishment under the Stephen's Green- a shit hole of hairdressers, desparate women, married suits and culchies tanking up before they collected their reeking laundry bags and headed for Heuston Station- there was hardly a dry or unoffended eye in the place.
Such was his imperious wrath and scurrilous venom as he cut a swath through the drunken Friday crowd, that two boys-who Barney proclaimed loudly looked exactly like serial rapists he had arrested the year before- tearfully admitted that they were gay, and no- when Barney demanded their license- they hadn't known that the law required them to be 'card carrying' queers.
Tits were groped, objections dampened with some non-too gentle taps from his baton, but all holy war really broke out when at one table, three rejects from the Clearasil Club tittered nervously at Barney's actions The dumbfounded friends didn't know where to look when Barney, grabbing the nearest one by his threadbare locks, dragged the unfortunate youth to the bar, bellowing at a bar man to check him for ID.
'Give him your wallet!' Barney roared.'
I'm not giving him nuthin'' The younth squealed, clearly hoping that might be his get out of jail free card.
'Right!'
Barney grabbed the youth by the back of his giant pants and flipped him upside down. Coins, a mobile and a wallet tumbled out. Two tables nearest the door emptied silently as he did this.
The terrified Polish barman, who was on his first night and hoped the terrible man didn't turn him upside too, opened the faux leather wallet and with shaking hands passed it to Barney. Still dangling the youth by one ankle, Barney flicked open the wallet and beamed when a library card revealed the youth to be somewhat shy of eighteen by some months.
"Right ya bollix ya.' Barney dropped the youth and turned majestically to the remaining all and sundry. 'This shit hole is shut down! Gerrout the lot of ya before I start taking names!'

At this stage the manager-who previously had been below the deck, hovering on the cellar stairs, popped up like a meercat through the floor.
'Excuse me? Garda-'
'It's Sergeant ya fuck ya, Sergeant O'Shea.' Barney tapped the number on his shoulder crest and bristled with genuine menace.
'Sergeant then, I'm the manager here and I-'
'Oh are you now.' Barney flipped up the hatch and limped behind the bar.

'So ya know yiz are selling drink to minors. Do yiz know what happens to little fucks like that when they drink? He'll get drunk, fight with some other dumb cunt and then bleed, puke, fall down, be brought to James by one of our lot, take up a trolley, then a bed and then people like my mother won't be able to get a bed when she goes in next week about her siatica! You ya cunt ya, are stopping my mother-who is a fucking saint- you are preventing her from a bed!'
'I-' the manager blinked. He looked about him for support and was amazed to see the other barstaff had somehow managed to vanish-
'I'm very sorry.'
'I'm shutting yiz down.'
The manager swallowed. 'But-can you do that? It's Friday night, surely there's-
'Are ya challenging me? First you fuck with my mother, now you're fucking with me? is that what yer doing?'
'No! I just,' he came up another two steps, he was knee level to Barney now. 'I-look why don't we sit down and discuss this, can I get you a drink.'
'A Bribe!'
Barney pulled the hat so far down over his eyes the peak almost tipped his nose.
'No no, not a bribe.'
'Tryin' to bribe a Garda! ' Barney tired to crack his neck, but failed. 'You're a fucking piece of work! Selling to children, fucking with old ladies and now you're trying to bribe a member of the Gardai, do you know what happened to the last cunt that tried to bribe Sergeant O'Shea of Store Street garda station?'
The manager was beginning to wish he had stayed down stairs in the dark with his porno mag.
'DO YOU KNOW?' Barney bellowed. Twenty tables emptied behind him.
'NO.'
Barney leaned down, he lifted one spit shined brogue and pressed it deftly against the manager's chest. He smiled.
'Sergeant O'Shea, put him back in his place. Oh yes, begob he did!'
And with that he shoved the little man back down the Stira Stairs(as seen on the Late Late Show!)
Barney closed the trap door on the shrieks of pain and dusted his hands.
'Right, anyone else want to break the law?' he roared in his best Judge Dread voice.
Although he soon realized he needn't have bothered.Major Tom's was as deserted as Samantha Mumba's fanclub.
Barney checked his watch, the first of the outraged calls would be starting soon.Time to get the rat in the hat.Grabbing a bottle of jagermeister from the top shelf, Barney hurried for the door. In the distance the sirens were already howling.