Don’t drop the soap.

The front man screamed. The obscenely hot water scalding his face and eyes. The man cradled his face as he bent low to escape the water. This was why he didn’t see the knee smash into his hands which were no real shield against someone as strong as Damien.

The first man went down. 4 left.

Damien didn’t stop moving. The initial shock had them stuck in their tracks for half a second too long. Damien stepped on the back of the first man and launched his head into the 2nd man’s nose.

The rule to head butting is not to actually hit the hard part of their forehead with your forehead. That shit hurts. Instead, your forehead should connect with cartilage - the nose.

A sickening crunch followed the violent impact and the second man was down.

3 left.

There was no catching these men by surprise. The initial shock was over and now Damien was one versus three as naked as the day he was born.

They spread out in a semi circle around him and backed up, keeping formation, as he skirted around their two **** friends.

“We’re going to fuck you up real good fish, and I’m going to fuck your ass with my whole fucking arm!”

“And if I lose to you idiots I’ll deserve it. Come at me you spineless fuck. Or were those two the ones with balls in your gang?”

With a snarl idiot number three charged Damien who side stepped him and threw him into the shower stall pony wall, his head cracking against the tile.

Too late, Damien realized the side step and throw caused him to lose his footing on the slick tile causing him to crash to the floor just as idiot number three fell ****.

Number four and five were quick to take advantage. Both rushed to him and began kicking at him, his arms just barely blocking the worst of the kicks.

A strong right kick crashed into the side of his head and he was briefly seeing stars. When his sight returned he realized that the two idiots had turned away from him and their attention was focused away from him.

Not one for looking a gift horse in the mouth, Damien pulled idiot number four’s foot backwards, causing him to nearly do the splits as he fell, his belly slapping the tile with a hard thud. Damien crawled onto his back and wrapped his arms around four’s neck. Damien still didn’t trust his balance enough to try and stand.

Briefly, Damien looked up to see what had caught their attention, especially since five wasn’t busy kicking him, and saw that five was presently getting his ass handed to him by...Whistler.

The big man was whistling as he engaged in what Damien would say was ‘proper’ if ‘dated’ boxing. From the looks of it, he had been trained. Number five’s face was a bloody mess.

A movement caught his attention, a large form hurling into Whistler and laying him out with a haymaker. Damien changes his strategy from strangling number four to **** to slamming his head into the tile floor as hard as he could. Messier, but faster, and fast is what he needed.

Damien stood. Luckily before he was knocked out Whistler had put number five down, his ****, bulky form sitting back in his shower stall and his head slumped onto his chest.

Standing over him was probably one of the biggest men Damien had ever seen. He was at least 6’8 and had to weigh upwards of 3 three to three hundred and fifty pounds.

He was bald, tattooed, and looked mean as fuck. His handle bar mustache and missing left canine did nothing to make him look goofy or less dangerous.

The man stared at Damien and smirked, slowly dropping into a low attack stance.

Damien matched him, his eyes searching for any sign of weakness.

He only saw one.