With a short moment of almost total alcohol induced blindness via eyes fuzzing over, Dunnaman damn near missed what went on. A lot of blurry movement and when his vision came back proper, it was quite clear that the metal man had separated from the group. Mumbling something about necessity and her phone, what exactly he had said fell on almost deaf ears. Since the shouting and hollering from the two or three women was driving his words from his head faster than he could speak them. It was clear, at least to his booze addled brain, that the Demon was using some kind of mind trick to distract the women while he got away with Jen's phone. 

[i]Oh ho ho, not today mister![/i] Thought the warrior with ridiculously amazing hair and what amounts to the brain of a child while afflicted with the delicious ichor known as liquor. [i]Wait I was supposed to say that out loud. . . I still haven't said it out loud.[/i] Dunnaman shook his head and stepped forward a bit, his hooves clicking on the wooden floor followed by a creak as his weight settled into it. His eyes, though very poorly focused, directed towards the thief. "You stole! You are a thief and that's wrong!" That wasn't clever at all, he should be ashamed of himself. But he really isn't, nor is he ashamed of just how misguided he is right now. 

In reality, he might understand the situation a hair better if he had actually been listening. Maybe he wouldn't want to put his fist so far down Resolution's throat that he'll be shitting forearms for weeks. Perhaps he wouldn't already be standing less than five feet away from him with as deep of a scowl as he can muster with a numb and dumb face. 

"The count of three, you have it.  Run or get punched!" He raised his hairy ass arm towards Resolution, extending his finger towards the cybernetic man's face. Dunnaman's finger damn near touched his face as he pointed dramatically, or at least what he thought would look dramatic at the time. "I suggest you take option one!"