The bell over the liquor store door chimed as a slim man in his mid-twenties stepped out onto the sidewalk, clutching his brown-bagged purchase. Black combat boots strode confidently down toward the corner of the street, the man flipping Aviator sunglasses on his face. Rounding the corner, he approached a dark green Indian WarChief DarkHorse motorcycle. Down an alley to his left, he heard the sound of low voices, then a strident scream of "help!"
Kevyn quickly slipped his purchase into one of the bike's saddlebags, then ran into the alley, already hating what he saw there. Three flunkies cornering a girl in her early teens, one of them holding her up by her blonde hair. Without a moment's hesitation, the biker stomped up to within a few paces of the pricks and cleared his throat ominously...
"Oi! You gits better unhand that lass this instant!" Kevyn growled lowly in a faint yet obvious Irish drawl, "Or yer shitty lives'll become ever tha more shitty!"
"Oh, yeah, and what're you gonna do, skinny?" One of them replied.
"I'm goin' ta teach yeh a lesson in chivalry, lads, that's whot," the young man retorted, steel blues boring into each man through the dark shades.
The three exchanged glances, before the one holding the girl nodded at the others. Both advanced on him, fists raised. Kev raised his own, Southpaw style, and waited one, two, beats. Without warning, a boot lashed out to the inner part of one's knee just as it bent, snapping the joint instantly. The man crumpled to the ground, and was subsequently laid out by a vicious roundhouse to the head. The other, taking the momentary opportunity of Kev's lowered guard, came forward with a flurry of punches. A few landed on the biker's face, before the rest were turned away. Taking advantage of the other's offensive, he returned a volley of punches of his own. Two straights to the gut, jab jab to the jaw, right hook, then a flying uppercut to the chin sent the fool into the wall, where he slid unceremoniously to the ground.
"You think you're so tough, eh?" The last one said, dropping the girl and pulling out a switchblade. "Let's see how you like this!"
Seeing the blade almost as soon as it was drawn, Kevyn shrugged out of his MC vest, wrapping it around his right arm, eyeing the blade as well as his foe. A slash at his face, he leaned back to avoid it, catching the reciprocating swipe in his leather-wrapped arm. Grabbing the man's other hand, the biker stepped forward and delivered a decisive headbutt aimed at the center of his foe's forehead. And, for good measure, as the asshole crumpled, he swung the man's arm around and snapped it easily before letting him drop.
"Well, now... Another hole in me vest, Dad's not gonna like this..." Kevyn murmured, as if to himself, before turning to the girl, concern written all over his face. "Are yeh hurt, lass? I dun think these gits'll be botherin' you now..."