A fight! A fight! And over something so trivial as a misplaced hand on an absolutely fine young woman. He'd seen it all from his place at the bandstand, and as he watched, a huge hulking man in a cowboy hat stepped forth. The woman's man, probably. A brief argument ensued, which was when the young man made his move, driving a knee into the big man's gut, twice no less. 

A bottle smashed against the big guy's head.

Then all hell broke loose.

Johnny idly ducked a flying bottle as it smashed into the back wall of the bandstand. Most of the action grew around the center of the ballroom but it was spreading, evidenced by the drunkard who stumbled forward looking for a face to punch and found his. The punch went wild and he scowled, placing his palm on the drunk man's face to push him away even as another guy chopped downward with another bottle. He twisted to the right and the swing went by untouched, the bottle smashing itself on the lip of the bandstand. He readied his right leg and, with a swiftness, shot a knee into the man's chest. As the guy staggered backward, his right foot shot up and a metal-plated toe drove itself into his temple. The offending drunkard went saggy and collapsed as Johnny flicked specks of broken glass from his shoulder. With a free hand, he downed the last of his drink and set the glass on the bandstand as his other hand raised, a finger pointing to the ceiling as he drew a circle in the air.

[color=lightblue]"Boys, strike up a fancy tune, will ya?"[/color]

The conductor nodded briefly and turned to his band. A snap of his fingers and the band now played a classy, upbeat tune as Johnny strode into the fray.

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o9yMXzARTZE[/youtube]

A man careened his way and Johnny calmly stepped over his falling form, his feet gently tapping a beat on the carpet, muffled by all that shag fabric.

Two steps forward, one step back, a tap to the front and his left leg shot up, his heel cracking the jaw of another drunk idiot trying to get his hands dirty in the brawl.

A turn to the left, another step forward, dum dee dum, another turn, and his right leg shot out, jamming itself in the stomach of someone in his way.

Another left turn, doo dee doo, two steps forward two steps back and a twist to the right as he crouched and swept out the legs of another brawler. Johnny completed his twist as his right leg shot up almost vertically. It came right back down in a vicious axe kick, his heel burying itself within the fallen man's gut, eliciting a pained yell as the man fell unconscious.

He took a step on the body, a step over, and his feet landed on the polished wood of the dance floor.

Perfect.

Tappity tap.

His hands stuffed themselves within his pockets.

A brawler charged him and he responded by hopping back a step and swinging a vicious football kick that sent the man careening across the room. The sound that followed blew everyone in his immediate vicinity to the floor.

A loud [b]crak-thoom[/b].

The band stopped briefly as air immediately expanded in the space just behind Johnny's raised leg, and a huge blast of wind spiralled out into the room, ruffling hair, raising dresses and knocking over unattended glasses and cups. He slowly lowered his leg, a smirk on his face as he raised a hand to the brim of his hat, running it gently across the brim. He looked up, the other young man now floating in the air as he apparently scoured the crowd, presumably for the fatso he was chasing.

[color=lightblue]"Hey, flyboy, he's far and away now. I didn't see where he went but chances are he's long gone. Now, humour a man, hmm? I've been itching for a good fight, and you just might be the man to beat."[/color]