Devon rolled off of the ground, leaping up and lashing out with the baton. The black weapon slid into it's full length, and he expertly twirled it between his fingers. This reminded him of the time when he had to disguise as a police officer within a fancy party, to arrest the client - which was the only non-suspicious way to slip him the package without anyone knowing. He had been pretty good with the baton; now, time to see if he still had it.

The first Crazie - the Crazie Guard - charged him first, with a demonic yell of "GONNA EAT YOUR ASS!"....Not the most intimidating of battle cries, Devon thought as he twisted behind the guard's swing, and took his legs out from under him with a sharp baton poke to the back of the knee. As the guard landed on his knees, Devon twisted, sending him flying into the wall with a sharp round-house kick. Immediately after, the other crazie lunged - only to get an eye full of baton. As blood and brain matter flew through the air, Devon brutally ripped it out and slammed the bloody end sharply in it's neck, killing it instantly.

It fell.

The third had punched him in the face.

It hurt.

Recovering, Devon dropped the baton with a scowl, punching the man back in the face.

"Ouch!"

"Yeah, bitch." 

The crazie tackled him, and he and Devon proceeded to beat the shit out of each other on the floor; Devon getting more hits in then the crazie, obviously.