Swerve was a minibot—that was for sure—and though being small came with its perks, it also came with vigorous downsides. Larger 'bots were fairly intimidating, although, the bartender wasn't scared by much; he loved his bar and he loved the customers that visited—whether for a drink, or just to get hammered on high-grade. He was just happy to serve.

Yet there was a problem he found himself dealing with almost weekly, a nuisance that managed to get his friendly ego fuming with aggravation—bar fights.

Bar fights were too troubling, as most were verbal, but today seemed far from that truth. A rather violent, hands on skirmish broke out in his bar, disturbing him and others nearby. They tumbled into tables and fought like sparklings, and he instantly darted over to try and separate what he could.

Though, he was quickly barreled into, as one of the 'bots involved began to angrily throw punches at him. It took Magnus and a few bystanders just to get the darn idiot off his frame.

The aftermath?

Swerve was a mangled mess. Bruises and cuts on his face, dented plating and a defeated, pained look now plastering his once cheerful smile. Subsequently, you—a Medic—were called in to aid to the minibot as Magnus scolded the drunkards, noticing the damage he had taken.

You kneel, questioning what had gone down.

"Bar fight,"

He embarrassingly mutters under taut breath—masking it under a nervous, wide smile.

"I tried to stop them, ahah..."