one of my favourites was
I was in PJ Clarke's, a N.Y. pub for the sports crowd. LaMotta could be found at the bar daily with his co-writer on RAGING BULL.
LaMotta was relaxing with his back against the bar -- trademark stogie in his mouth. A sweaty little guy in an ill-fitting suit came through the front door, spotted Jake 'n made b-line for him.
The little guy planted himself in front of LaMotta, regaling him -- and all in the bar -- with how he saw Jake KO some guy in New Orleans, demonstrating by wind-milling punches furiously...much too close to LaMotta's face.
LaMotta didn’t move a muscle or change expression. The guy's swings an eyelash away.
Sure enough, one landed flush on the cigar -- flattened it against LaMotta's face, like Wile e Coyote.
After a long pause, Jake looked heavenward: "Why me?"