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that,” I said.
“Maybe I picked this shithole for a reason. I mean, imagine just
for a moment that I was an ex-SEAL. Say, for example, that while
training for an operation, I contracted a flesh-eating virus that
didn’t quite succeed at killing me but did do enough damage to run
me out of the SEALS. You think I might be just a little pissed off
about that? Just maybe?”
    Raider-Hat just stared at me. It was
impossible to tell if I was getting through to him at all.
    “Suffice it to say I would be more than a
little pissed,” I continued. “So now, with all this anger built up
inside me, all I want to do is drink in peace and try to get
through another day without taking my rage out on someone else,” I
said. “If that was the case, then this would be the exact kind of
place I would pick. Someplace to drink in peace without any damn
frat boys or yuppies or loud-mouthed rednecks around to bother
me.”
    Raider-Hat’s nostrils flared and his eyes
narrowed but he remained silent.
    “Now, I know what you’re thinking,” I said.
“If I came here just to drink myself into oblivion, why did I blow
your girl over there a kiss, right?”
    Raider-Hat didn’t answer. Nor did any of the
others. I think their confusion had paralyzed them, at least
temporarily.
    “Well, let me answer that in a way I think
you’ll understand,” I said. “I wasn’t looking for any kind of a
confrontation, at least not earlier, but once you boys came in and
started making all that noise, I knew it was just a matter of time
until I got fed up and came over there and shut you up without
giving you a chance to pipe down. So I figured, why not nip things
in the bud? Get them over here to try and talk a little sense into
them before things get out of control. And the only way I could
think of doing that was by blowing your girl a kiss there. So
that’s what I did. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the smartest
thing to do, but there it is. It’s over and done with, and now here
you are. With a decision to make. So what do you think?”
    Raider-Hat looked at me for a moment, then
said, “I think you’re full of shit.”
    Dough Boy and Tweaker started laughing.
    “You want to know what I think?” Raider-Hat
continued, fueled on by his cronies. “I think you did something
stupid and now you’re trying to talk your way out of it.”
    “If that’s what you think than you’re even
dumber than you look,” I said. “Which is pretty much
impossible.”
    His mouth turned up in a predatory grin and
it was obvious my little plan had failed. Not that it ever had much
of a chance to succeed. But at least I could say I’d tried. And now
there was only one direction for things to go. So it was just a
matter of looking for the right opportunity to take control of the
situation.
    And then Raider-Hat was setting his hand
down on the table to hold his weight as he leaned in over the table
towards me, providing me with just the opportunity I was looking
for. “And you know what else I think—”
    I never found out what else he thought, as I
lifted the table from the bottom, and wrenched it aside, spilling
Raider-Hat off-balance. As he fell I grabbed his wrist, put my hand
on the outside of his elbow, held his arm taut and turned it so his
palm was facing towards the ceiling. He doubled over and went to
one knee, giving me even more leverage. I lifted his arm further,
putting more pressure on his elbow joint. He hissed in pain.
    Dough Boy had taken a couple of surprised
steps back and was just looking on with wide eyes and an open
mouth, his tobacco half in, half out. But Tweaker looked like she
was about to charge me.
    “If you move I break his arm,” I said.
    Tweaker looked at me, then to Raider-Hat,
then back at me. I could see her brain working, trying to figure
her odds. They were non-existent.
    Dough Boy shook his head and mumbled “fuck
this” and hightailed it towards the front door.
    “Where are you going you fat fuck?” Tweaker
yelled