Apparently, this had been a terrible time to go out drinking. The bar erupted into chaos as two rival “families” had it out. Those not involved, including you, tried to flee the scene before it got too dangerous.

Two men crashed in front of you and wrestled against the bar counter blocking your bath. One of them gestured to you and said in a surprisingly calm voice “Hand me that bottle, sweetheart.” He pointed at a beer bottle right next to you, still straining with the man on top punching him.