Now that the whole crew was looking like something out of a 80's punk rock video, it was time to move on. But did any of them know where to start? No, they were all lost.
Ricardo swallowed these thoughts of uncertainty. "Come on. We are all ready to get out of here as soon as possible. Let's get moving." Picking a random direction, Ricardo began to walk. His pace was just short of a fast walk, leaving room for shorter legged members of the group.
This place was getting old quick. Fighting, kissing, yelling, it was like all sense of humility had escaped these people. He had to shake his gaze away from a couple of women embracing each other in the most passionate of kisses, hands exploring. Eyes forward. The goal is to get out.
Suddenly, from around a dark alley corner, two thuggish looking figures appeared. One was a long blonde haired man with a black eye patch. The other man had dark short hair and a smile that screamed danger. Both men wore matching black suits, free from formal ties but otherwise very dapper.
The blonde haired man spoke first "Hi there!" He tried to sound charming, but his dark aura was too evident. "I don't think I've seen you three around here. Do they look new to you, Jax?"
The dark haired man replied, much less concerned with hiding his intent. "You're right. They look like fresh meat." Suddenly he spoke up, shouting over the top of the groups head. "What do we do with fresh meat?!"
On command, a horde of rough looking men and women began to filter out from between all the surrounding buildings. Every one of them wore similar business casual suits, and every one of them reeked of malice. It was hard to pick out where the reply came from, but a man's voice responded, "We welcome them humbly... with our fists." Then a woman's voice, "...and with our blades." Then, as if on cue, the sound of guns cocking back all at once permeated the air.
The crowd quickly started to become restless with quite conversation before the blonde haired man raised one hand to the sky, immediately hushing them all. "Now, now, let's not get carried away." Looking back at the four punk rock fruit flies caught in their web of danger, he asked a question, "So tell us, do any of you know how to fight? You don't look like it."
Ricardo stood there, heart racing. He had only been in a hand full of street fights in his life (three to be exact), and not by choice. He actually one two of them, one with a lucky knock out punch. But these men and women looked more like the experienced mugger that left him bleeding out, half dead in a dumpster, on his mother's birthday no less.
After only a few seconds of silence, the blonde haired man snapped in anger, "I asked a question!!" With one deep breath he calmed back down to his original false smile.
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