Seen in Lansing
We didn't actually enter the place, since they didn't serve dinner and the dress code sign didn't describe what we were wearing, but looking in the windows from the cold street . . .
It was the choice of weapons that changed that spat over a woman from a normal Saturday night step-20-paces-turn-and-fire affair to the brutal brawl of legends.
A challenge, and a challenge accepted, but not with the yawn-inspiring pair of pistols or swords.
This was a duel of pianos.
Twenty-paces. Turn. Heave the piano up and swing it smashing, fend off the in-flying piano, return the blow with a tipping or a devastating drop as the shards of woods and snapping wires and chunks of ivory fly.