08-02-2013, 07:43 PM
He had to admit, Americans had fought hard to earn their reputation. There was a reason why folks hated American tourists, even before the decline of recent decades. Arrogance and ignorance. Not everyone was guilty of it of course, but those that were made big splashes. This wanna-be prostitute was no different.
Hood tipped back the beer in his hand, downing the last of it, as if giving her orders fair thought. Really, he was just sizing up her stance. The kid was in serious need of an attitude adjustment, and he was perfectly willing to deliver. Besides, after the fiasco with the crew tasked to keep an eye on that Jaxen twit, her and her kind were pretty low in the poles, so to speak.
His grip on the beer bottle reversed suddenly, and a snap of his arm smacked the bottle into the back of her supporting knee. He had been dwelling with the idea of just breaking her knee instead, but figured that would cause more trouble then it would be worth in the long run. With her knee giving out, his other arm snapped forwards, smacking the palm of his hand into her solar plexus, his arm extending fully to send her pitching back off the step and onto the walk way to the door.
He didn't bother following through to finish her off. He was just seeking to knock her on her shapely ass. And to see how she handled herself, of course. Besides, there was another one standing by the street watching them; had been there since before the little scuffle, and he hadn't seen her around the neighborhood. Maybe just a passer-by, but the weapons were a dead giveaway.
"Like I said, Aggressive Salmon. Cot in the living room. Shelf in the fridge. Market back the way you came. Grand tour to start now."
Hood tipped back the beer in his hand, downing the last of it, as if giving her orders fair thought. Really, he was just sizing up her stance. The kid was in serious need of an attitude adjustment, and he was perfectly willing to deliver. Besides, after the fiasco with the crew tasked to keep an eye on that Jaxen twit, her and her kind were pretty low in the poles, so to speak.
His grip on the beer bottle reversed suddenly, and a snap of his arm smacked the bottle into the back of her supporting knee. He had been dwelling with the idea of just breaking her knee instead, but figured that would cause more trouble then it would be worth in the long run. With her knee giving out, his other arm snapped forwards, smacking the palm of his hand into her solar plexus, his arm extending fully to send her pitching back off the step and onto the walk way to the door.
He didn't bother following through to finish her off. He was just seeking to knock her on her shapely ass. And to see how she handled herself, of course. Besides, there was another one standing by the street watching them; had been there since before the little scuffle, and he hadn't seen her around the neighborhood. Maybe just a passer-by, but the weapons were a dead giveaway.
"Like I said, Aggressive Salmon. Cot in the living room. Shelf in the fridge. Market back the way you came. Grand tour to start now."