A Minor Scuffle

It has been a long whil since I have been required to use my more martial skills, but I found myself with such opportunity tonight. I decided that this night I would partake in an evening stroll for the purpose of delivering certain letters, by way of the post box. On this same stroll I decided to enjoy a drug in a form commonly referred to as a 'cancer stick', and had already slightly over-indulged in wine of a reddish hue.

It so happens that my journey to the delivery box belonging to the royal mail was to take me past a habitat much enamoured of certain less reputable aspects of young society. It was, at the time that I passed it, being utilised by a small number of such youths, in the style of dress adopted to replicate certain supposed artists of a musical style known as 'hip-hop', or approximating said style. As may be known to you, individuals adopting this style are often of a violent persuasion and greeted me in a civilized manner with shouts of 'Oi, long-hair, go'a spare cig?'

After a moment spent translating their strange dialect, I replied to the leader of the trio. 'Not for you.'

They seemed to take some offense at this, and the leader dared to lay hands upon my noble person, seizing my wrist and demanding that I provide them with these mysterious 'cigs'. I did not appreciate this, and am rather proud of myself for coming up with the witty retort of 'Unhand me thou cur.'

Such language seemed to cause some degree of consternation among the youths, and the one laying hands upon my arm did look rather suprised. Through my martial training I knew that the best way to avoid further confrontation was to free myself, and back away, and that this could easily be accomplished with no injury to any involved. However, I had not appreciated the insults that this uncivilized young lad had hurled in my direction, and decided for a more complex approach.

After the rapid application of my foot to the groinal area of his body, and the following application of a knee to his face, and an elbow to the spine, his compatriots decided that discretion was the better part of valour and beat a hasty retreat. Meanwhile my attacker was still breathing, and conscious, though seemed in no state to talk or object, and after scrambling to his feet followed his colleagues.

Meanwhile I continued on my jaunt, enjoying my cancer stick, and delivering my missives for dispersal to those who had requested them.