The guy went down easy enough. The day that Eric Brannigan couldn't handle a belligerent drunk was the day he'd trade in his recliner for a rocking chair. Brannigan had what the old timers referred to as grit. He was tough and had a knack for coming out on top in a scuffle even before his training.<br/><br/>He had grown up on the streets, in fact the very same streets that he protects now. His father was gone before he ever really knew him. He was taken by the streets. His mother worked two jobs to make ends meet. Eric could have easily ended up as one of the very criminals he chased but instead he chose to get a job at a local gym. He found his first love there at the age of nine. Even before the boxing coach agreed to let him train, he was watching and learning. Even after joining the academy he continued his training and workouts. Even now he’d stop by the old gym from time to time to work out some frustrations. Tonight, he’ll settle for working them out on a drunk or two.<br/><br/>He didn't even see the punch coming. Those are the ones that usually put you out. Brannigan had been hit by some powerful punches in his time by some skilled fighters. He had only been knocked out once, by a fist anyway. The guy behind the punch could be considered one of the resident badasses. He was used to people falling down when he hit them, especially with a sucker punch. His mouth was still open when Brannigan’s own right cross connected. To his own credit, the fella didn't go down but his jaw had definitely been dislocated at the very least.<br/><br/>Brannigan felt the arms wrap around him from behind and lock down. Eric stomped down hard and felt foot bones crunch beneath his heel then threw his head backwards as hard as he could. He felt more crunching when his hard head connected with the fragile nose of the man behind him. He then ducked just in time to avoid the second punch from the resident badass. The guy behind Brannigan was hit for a second time right on the bridge of the nose and was done.<br/><br/>Brannigan uppercutted the badass as he stood back up and put his legs behind it. The badass landed on his back and didn't move. It was about that time that he heard the voice of his partner over the excited chorus within the bar. He turned to see that she was having a little fun of her own.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#08610e">“I can promise you that we ain't going to jail darlin’.”</span>He could feel that he was going to have a bruise on his cheek. It had been awhile. It actually felt kinda good to him.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#08610e">“Much as I'd like to hang out and dance some more with you fellas, I am a busy man.”</span><br/><br/>“You or your pretty little friend ain't going nowhere.”<br/><br/>One of Brannigan’s pistols was in his hand and in the man’s face so quick it may seem like it had appeared the from thin air to an intoxicated brain.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#08610e">“...aren't going anywhere, you ignorant fuck. And yes we are even if I have to shoot all you fuckers in the face to do it.”</span><br/><br/>Another voice chimed in. “There are more of us than you have bullets numbnuts!”<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#08610e">“Count again dumbass. 15 shots.”</span>He pulled a second pistol and pointed in the direction of the voice.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#08610e">“Times two.Hell, I got enough to shoot you twice.”</span>