A smirk, that's all she could muster looking at this foolish, messy, wet, and overly angry man. His foolish demeanor just perfectly came together, a representative of the anarchy below brought simply to her doorstep. But, she was used to it, a simple man, bothered by simple things. She was tired of these games, she needed a new toy, and he was definitely not good enough.<br/><br/>"Did you hear me? You little cunt!" His stench was getting to be a bit overwhelming, fitting of a balding, roly-poly man who had definitely missed his prime. He inched closer and closer, his fist revealing a thick glass bottle, his face full of overbearing confidence and pride. He was so ignorant of his position, it was rather laughable. She decided to place her glass down, and put a small rip in her dress; she could always get a new one.<br/><br/>"Arrrggghh, stop laughing at me! I'll wipe that smile off your face!" He swung his glass on a nearby table, shattering a pool of glass, wasting a fifth of Grey Goose. All she could do was gasp in surprise, what a waste of a good drink! He charged headlong, the most vulnerable way to attack. She extended her left palm, ready to make him feel death, crouched down, staring clearly and focused.<br/><br/>*Wham* Raphael's fist smashed square into the bartender's face, nearly spinning his head all the way around. His head twisting convulsively, eyes wide, saliva flying. He landed cleanly with a thud.