Why me?
Amir stumbled out from the Tavern, drunkly swaying side to side as he turned to the door, awaiting for his target to come through the door. His dishelved shirt having lost a few buttons on the way out after the initial punch.
He wiped his lip with a clenched fist, and spat on the ground, "What? Can't take a..." He lifted a finger at the much larger man stepping outside, "Can't take a joke?"
Woo, boy, he thought. He looked a lot smaller amongst the patrons.
But maybe that was the alcohol clouding his judgement before he might have suggested the man was having sexual relations with his mother.
"... Look, man," Amir started, holding up his hands, "I don't want to fight, but you... But you did ask for that..."
The bald headed brute cracked his knuckles, his face convulsing with anger, "... For what?" He threatened, looming closer.
The much smaller Amir laughed nervously, before stumbling forward a little, "Well you did try and... Well, touch a lady without their permission ? and I just don't buy that shit..."
"What's it to do with you, you fucking little asswipe?" The brute muttered, "If I see a nice piece, I am going to touch it. Got that? Stop playing hero little man and get the hell out of here before I rearrange your face into something prettier."
Amir looked insulted, but he overplayed it. He placed his hands to his chest, "Me? A hero? I think you got it all wrong, you giant dick on steriods ?" he flipped him the middle finger, "See this? This is what your size is. You couldn't please a..." He laughed then, "Oh no, I can't... It's just so easy..."
The brute's teeth gritted, "Alright, let's play it your way."
A single punch met under Amir's jaw, snapping his laughter shut, and sending up, and down onto his back. He hit the floor hard enough for his back to crack against the cobbled street, knocking the air out of him. For a few seconds he rolled on the floor, then slowly stood up holding his ribs.
"Listen... I'm trying... I'm trying to save you, from the worst beating... You will ever have in your life so just, stop, and listen-"
He got another punch, but this time, Amir's face moulded about what seemed like an anvil of a fist right into his cheek. This time he did not fall, and although blood now had rushed out of his nose, Amir could not help but point at the tavern's now opening door.
"Don't say... I didn't warn you..."
With a red leather mini skirt, a white-wife beater, and even thigh-high black high-heeled boot, Hothead came walking out looking none too pleased while holding a tankard of beer, "Oi! Old man! What the fuck?"
Amir groaned as he stumbled back, pointing at the brute who confusedly turned around to another person muscling in on the action. "Just having, a talk with my friend here..."
But the biggot of a man laughed, and turned to regard the very... Pretty red head. "Whoa, where have you been all night?" He smoothed, his rumbling voice something of a passionate earthquake.
Hotheat stared to Amir, then looked at the man, "What's going on here?"
"... Just a disagreement, ain't that right, shorty?" The man put an arm around Amir's shoulders, but gave him a glare.
Amir laughed nervously, nodding slowly, "Yeah... Sure... Disagreement." But his eyes glanced upwards.
Hothead saw through the lie. She stepped forward slowly, nodding, while a hand lifted up to touch the larger man's cheek, "Oh I see, that's fine then. For a minute there I thought you were trying to beat my Commander."
"Commander?" The brute smiled a little, "This thing? He doesn't look like much. Even children could beat this-"
A high heeled, size 9 boot had cut short the man's words, right between the legs. He fell like a tree, whimpering like a girl as he held his most precious package. Hothead took no prisoners, she spat on him, kicked him in the side, and then looked to Amir.
"... You could had taken him out." Her eyes narrowed harshly on her superior. "Stop taking shots. I don't care if he touched my ass."
Amir smiled then, "Well, I was just trying to be gentlemanly..."
"I don't need a man to please me, Amir. Besides, I slipped him some pills in his drink when he wasn't looking. You didn't have to butt in you know. I had it covered."
The brute who had recoiled on the floor, looked up at Amir with fear in his eyes. Something was very... Bittersweet about that, that just made Amir shrug his shoulders, and shake his head.
"... What pills?"
Hothead winked, "The ones that make you want to fuse yourself with a toiletseat for a few days." An evil grin spread as she drunk from the tankard, "Oh, and just some hormonal pills," she chimed, linking an arm under his, guiding him back into the tavern. "Come on, Daddio, let's go back in and get completely off our heads!"
The Gardener sighed, looking back over his shoulder at the man still crumpled upon the floor. He was beginning to think getting into a fight with that man was a better situation than the one he was linked arms with. "Why me..." He groaned.
Amir stumbled out from the Tavern, drunkly swaying side to side as he turned to the door, awaiting for his target to come through the door. His dishelved shirt having lost a few buttons on the way out after the initial punch.
He wiped his lip with a clenched fist, and spat on the ground, "What? Can't take a..." He lifted a finger at the much larger man stepping outside, "Can't take a joke?"
Woo, boy, he thought. He looked a lot smaller amongst the patrons.
But maybe that was the alcohol clouding his judgement before he might have suggested the man was having sexual relations with his mother.
"... Look, man," Amir started, holding up his hands, "I don't want to fight, but you... But you did ask for that..."
The bald headed brute cracked his knuckles, his face convulsing with anger, "... For what?" He threatened, looming closer.
The much smaller Amir laughed nervously, before stumbling forward a little, "Well you did try and... Well, touch a lady without their permission ? and I just don't buy that shit..."
"What's it to do with you, you fucking little asswipe?" The brute muttered, "If I see a nice piece, I am going to touch it. Got that? Stop playing hero little man and get the hell out of here before I rearrange your face into something prettier."
Amir looked insulted, but he overplayed it. He placed his hands to his chest, "Me? A hero? I think you got it all wrong, you giant dick on steriods ?" he flipped him the middle finger, "See this? This is what your size is. You couldn't please a..." He laughed then, "Oh no, I can't... It's just so easy..."
The brute's teeth gritted, "Alright, let's play it your way."
A single punch met under Amir's jaw, snapping his laughter shut, and sending up, and down onto his back. He hit the floor hard enough for his back to crack against the cobbled street, knocking the air out of him. For a few seconds he rolled on the floor, then slowly stood up holding his ribs.
"Listen... I'm trying... I'm trying to save you, from the worst beating... You will ever have in your life so just, stop, and listen-"
He got another punch, but this time, Amir's face moulded about what seemed like an anvil of a fist right into his cheek. This time he did not fall, and although blood now had rushed out of his nose, Amir could not help but point at the tavern's now opening door.
"Don't say... I didn't warn you..."
With a red leather mini skirt, a white-wife beater, and even thigh-high black high-heeled boot, Hothead came walking out looking none too pleased while holding a tankard of beer, "Oi! Old man! What the fuck?"
Amir groaned as he stumbled back, pointing at the brute who confusedly turned around to another person muscling in on the action. "Just having, a talk with my friend here..."
But the biggot of a man laughed, and turned to regard the very... Pretty red head. "Whoa, where have you been all night?" He smoothed, his rumbling voice something of a passionate earthquake.
Hotheat stared to Amir, then looked at the man, "What's going on here?"
"... Just a disagreement, ain't that right, shorty?" The man put an arm around Amir's shoulders, but gave him a glare.
Amir laughed nervously, nodding slowly, "Yeah... Sure... Disagreement." But his eyes glanced upwards.
Hothead saw through the lie. She stepped forward slowly, nodding, while a hand lifted up to touch the larger man's cheek, "Oh I see, that's fine then. For a minute there I thought you were trying to beat my Commander."
"Commander?" The brute smiled a little, "This thing? He doesn't look like much. Even children could beat this-"
A high heeled, size 9 boot had cut short the man's words, right between the legs. He fell like a tree, whimpering like a girl as he held his most precious package. Hothead took no prisoners, she spat on him, kicked him in the side, and then looked to Amir.
"... You could had taken him out." Her eyes narrowed harshly on her superior. "Stop taking shots. I don't care if he touched my ass."
Amir smiled then, "Well, I was just trying to be gentlemanly..."
"I don't need a man to please me, Amir. Besides, I slipped him some pills in his drink when he wasn't looking. You didn't have to butt in you know. I had it covered."
The brute who had recoiled on the floor, looked up at Amir with fear in his eyes. Something was very... Bittersweet about that, that just made Amir shrug his shoulders, and shake his head.
"... What pills?"
Hothead winked, "The ones that make you want to fuse yourself with a toiletseat for a few days." An evil grin spread as she drunk from the tankard, "Oh, and just some hormonal pills," she chimed, linking an arm under his, guiding him back into the tavern. "Come on, Daddio, let's go back in and get completely off our heads!"
The Gardener sighed, looking back over his shoulder at the man still crumpled upon the floor. He was beginning to think getting into a fight with that man was a better situation than the one he was linked arms with. "Why me..." He groaned.