On the Rocks

An explosion of flares erupted across Max's vision as the meaty right hook lifted him off his feet and into the garbage cans. The silhouette of his attacker towered over him against the moonlit sky. Needles surged through his blood as he quickly gathered himself to his feet.
The oaf was a good head taller and a few steak dinners heavier than he was. Max ducked under another haymaker and stumbled over the metal cans in his escape. The live band and their rowdy followers next door at Singer's Tavern made sure this ruckus would go unnoticed.
But this wasn't a mugging. The dark jeans, gloves and black t shirt hugging his frame suggested hired help. Max lifted his hands ready for another lunge. The beast complied.
The fist came in fast, clipping Max's ear. He was moving two scotches slower than normal but was still able to return a right cross to the goon's jaw. It was laughable to think this alone would be sufficient to drop a man of this size but it bought Max a chance to thrust out a heavy booted heel kick to his knee. With a muffled pop and a grunt, the thug dropped and met an uppercut to the face.
Max staggered, fighting to keep happy hour down. With the henchman splayed out Max held up his phone for him. "The Mayor has a shit storm coming his way. The DA will be visiting tomorrow."
Choking through blood the goon answered, "He can take it."
Max flicked through a few images. "These girls are underage. The storm is getting worse."
Before the goon could protest Max bid him goodnight with a kiss from the sole of his boot. Disappearing down the sidewalk and into the night, he pressed "send" on his phone.


[299 words]