“But you're not Polish are you?”
“Are you here to fight or talk?”
“Well I'm certainly not going three rounds with you!”
"Come on killer, stop dancing with him, knock his block off!" the crowd shout.”
"Come on Sir" the referee intervenes "Just dance around with the killer, the audience expects it. Fight on."
“If you're Polish then, why the Irish accent?”
“Look Sir, put up your dukes will yeah?”
“Come on killer, kill him!" the crowd shout”
“You're Irish aren't you?”
“How could you tell Sir?”
“Your accent!”
“What if I am, look will you stop dancing around and let me hit you?”
“Come on killer, knock his block off!” shouts the crowd.”
“So Irish, where do you come from?”
“I'm from County Cork
“Why Killer Kaminski?”
“It’s me stage name.”
“Stage name?”
“This is entertainment Sir, for the public like, and they like something a little exotic.”
“Come on killer, hit him"
“Look Sir, think of the audience, they want to see a fight" the referee intervenes”
“Now less of the clinches, break, and fight on.”
“Now less of the clinches, break, and fight on.”
“So what is your name?”
“Tom O'Flanahan. Look Sir, mind me face, it's me fortune, you might knock it back into shape!”
“Not much danger of that! Weren't you a professional heavy weight a few years back?”
“Irish heavy weight champion I was sir.”
“What happened?”
“I got too old, too slow, and ended up here working for Barney.”
“Where are you going Sir?" the ref shouts after me.”
The crowd boo and shout as I climbed out of the ring to do a runner, the crowd try to force me back into the ring, but I manage to get away with my photographic colleague hot on my heels and the crowd shouting and waving their fists after us!
Reporter No.113
Photograph by No.113b
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