Street fight (roy)

[Garrett Evans]

Mike walked down the dark street, Breath steaming out in front of him. To be fair , for 10 o'clock at night in the middle of december, it wasn't that cold. He turned down another empty street and tried to pull himself out of the gloomy mood he'd been in. Hell, the whole reason he'd even gone out was to clear his head. He didnt notice the guy coming out from the alleyway until he was almost on top of him.

"sup homie, got any cash for a guy in need?"

Oh great, some punk asking for a handout, This was going to be a bad night. The guy had a stupid looking grin on his face, but the look in his eyes could only be described as predatory.
Worse, Mike never carried money when he wasnt planning to use it , so he couldnt just give the guy 20 bucks and make him go away.

"Sorry, dont have any money"

He tried to walk past the punk, but he got cut off as the guy sidestepped directly in front of him.

"Don't hurt my feelings dog, sure you dont have any cash?"

The guy's stupid grin had begun to slip, and it was clear that he wasn't going to take no for an answer. Mike started tensing himself up. This wasn't going to end well.

"Told you, i don't have any money."

"well ain't that a damn shame"

The punk drew closer and quickly pulled out a switchblade and held it in mike's face. The goofy grin was gone off the guy's face now.
"This can end two ways, Either i get money, Or you get cut"

That did it, this asshole was going DOWN

"I choose option C."

Mike grabbed the guys arm holding the blade and wrenched it to the side. He dropped the knife and mike heard a sickening pop as the guy's arm was yanked violently out of his shoulder. Not giving him any time to recover , he brought his left foot up quickly, Nailing the punk right in the balls. He fell to the ground screaming, clutching his wrenched arm.

Time to go. But as soon as he looked up from the asshole on the ground, he heard yelling from the building in front of him.

"YOU ARE FUCKING DEAD! YOU LITTLE BASTARD"

Shit. The guy had friends. Mike ducked into the alleyway the punk had come from, hoping to lose them. Dead end. Shit....

He turned around to see at least 12 guys at the entrance to the alleyway, some armed with switch blades, Others with brass knuckles. He was pinned down, and these guys meant business.
He pulled a piece of loose pipe propped up against a building and held it out in front of him. This promised to be a REALLY bad night...

[Roy Atenwood]

Just then, a figure clad in a black shirt and red pants came into view, at the mouth of the alleyway. Black bands were visible on his arms, looking like some kind of bracelet or something from a distance. Looking closer, one could see they were tattoos. He cut quite an imposing figure.

"Hey, assholes."

One of them, a large one, turned around. A large, hispanic fellow, he looked like quite a fighter.
"Back off, Cabrone! We're just gettin'-

He didn't get to finish the sentance. Roy slammed a fist into his face and broke it.

The man's face, not his hand.

"Now, if you let Mikey there go, I'll let some of you walk away unharmed......be smart about this, boys."


"This guy's a fuckin' idiot! Forget tubby, let's kick his ass!"

"Oh, I was hoping you'd say that."

In a flurry of limbs, the eleven little "Gangstas" came at Roy.

Roy felled the first one with a simple two-fingered jab to the abdomen, knocking him to his knees, and then kicked the second one in the gut, knocking him back into the third. The fourth tried to take out a gun, but Roy cracked him over the head with an elbow, grabbing the gun from his hand, sliding out the magazine, and depositing it in the trash, then grabbing number four by the arm, and throwing him at number five.

Five down.

"....any more stupid mistakes, or are you going to run away with you tails tucked between your legs?