[@Hokum]

[i]-Donny blinked lazily as Pycin mentioned the bomb. His mind grew hollow, distant, no longer emotionally attached to the situation or conversation. He saw things objectively, almost in slow motion as the Grand Minister's mouth silently opened and closed. The room for Donny began darkening, turning monochrome and fading into obscurity, a black void whose only illumination came from the white glow of Pycin's form. A wicked crook of smoke screwed slowly up past Donny's face, the light in the room glinting like the verdant scales of a reptile in his eyes. He moved towards the cigar, reached out... And threw his entire weight into left hook. He put his ass into it, squared his shoulders and let go, the torque of his upper body driving the blow towards Pycin's jaw. It was untelegraphed, out of the blue, executed with no excess motion, no elbow flare or wind up. Clenched in his fist was the zippo to lend his fist some more volume and additional sturdiness, in addition to the weighted lead sewn into his S.A.P glove. He intended to molly-whop Pycin unconscious, give him a few more stiff shots to take the fight out of him, then steal his device and strip him down naked, keep beating him until he couldn't move, only talk. Maybe that alone would break his spirit. Donny took pride in his capacity to not lose control of a situation, to always have another option to take. When again would he be here in this important room with the very instigator of this unacceptable problem sitting so close?
It wasn't worth waiting for another chance. All Donny knew was that he'd have to make this one feel enough regret that they'd instruct him on how to properly disable the explosive. He'd need to check his watch soon and make sure the ordeal didn't last for more than seventy minutes. This one who would hold the tiger by the tail, he may know soon how pain can be an entity in and of itself.-[/i]