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."