The punch to outdo all punches, the kind of which would have made Holyfield, Tyson in his prime proud
He’d been sitting, drinking a beer, only relatively thinking, not a clue what he was about to be met with, all too diluted fret on her part, didn’t matter one bit that these past few weeks he had been hitting the gym like an animal, owing to the fact he had well and truly sinned
Caught him from the side, completely unawares, upside the glass chin, glass in mouth, a terrible fright with no place left to hide
She stood over him, one loud and frustrating shout after another
Unassuming to the last, high-heeled, made-up, but not in that way, ready for a battle where she got to place the first as well as the very last punch
Thinking about it some more, he really must  have had a hunch, having played the field like an eejit, no yield in him when it came to these kinds of things
Left with a hardened frown, a lump of fine meat upon the ground
Didn’t know what to say, a few attention-seeking women, pretty things, strolling away, didn’t quite know what had happened, what they were supposed to say