Aren’t we Monrovians lucky to have gladiators in our town who don’t hold grudges against their opponents? It must be our friendly atmosphere.
I’m sure the two men fighting outside a tavern celebrated their reconciliation with a drink after they gave each other a fat lip.
Anyway, I’m glad that I’m not a brawler. The last time I engaged in a fist fight, I was twelve years old and my adversary was ten. And boy, oh boy! She really beat the hell out of me.
– David Quintero