Eager, on his toes, he ran into the promise of a fight like unleashed hell.
The bigger one—stupid and bovine—went down first. He smashed his fist into the man's jaw and felt the bones give.
The other one, thin as a railroad spike, hurled profanities with flecks of spittle. The knife appeared, all blade and alive. A front snap-kick to the belly and a shoulder throw sent him crashing into the crates behind them and he was down too, lying senseless amid the splintered wood.
Victorious again he stood, alone, frustrated, unfulfilled. Disappointed. He'd sold another boring fight.