Buffy was hunched over the bar, toothpick in hand, spearing futilely at the olive in her drink. A dozen times the olive eluded her. Finally, another patron, who had been watching intently from the next stool, became exasperated and grabbed the toothpick.
"Here, this is how you do it." he said, as he easily skewered the olive.
"Big Deal," muttered Buffy. "I already had him so tired out, he couldn't get away."
