a welcoming comittee of thugs

I put my book down to see who it was and was greeted by everything my pa had said to be wary of in New York. A group of about six boys were all around me and the one in the center seemed to be trying to stare me down. They were all fairly stereotypical of the leather jacket wearing, greased hair bad boys we heard about back home... all except the one who was staring me down. While his black jeans and leather coat were identical to the uniform of his five comrades, his skin was a chalk white and his head was devoid of hair.

"Hey bookworm," he said menacingly, "you got any smokes for me and my friends?"

I was a bit frightened, I'll admit. True, I'd been in a few scrapes back home and figured I could take care of myself in a fair fight but... if this turned ugly, it was obvious it wasn't going to be a fair fight! I concentrated and called up my powers just long enough to see that every boy had a knife and their leader was also carrying two chains.

I calmed myself and replied, "Sorry, I smoked my last pack waiting for the bus back home. Got a little nervous, I guess. But I figure in a town like this there'll be a pharmicist or something not too far from here where you could get some."

The group of boys began to twitter and guffaw like a pack of heyenas and their leader spit on the ground.

"Listen, rube... that's a real nice suggestion and everything but we don't exactly feel like parting with our money. So how about you give us everything you got of value, and we call it even?"

My mind was racing. I had no idea how I'd be able to get out of this without losing and I didn't really feel like being beaten up or robbed blind on my first day in New York. I was trying desperately to figure out some way I could walk out of this situation when a voice from behind the boys cleared his throat and asked which one was Tom Scott.

"I'm here, I'm Tom Scott!" I shouted with what was very likely far too much desperation.

The group of boys parted to assess this new interloper who had come for me and I got the first look of this man who called me by name. My fear was not exactly abated. A relatively stocky man with glasses, he seemed as wide as he was tall but in a completely muscular way. His arms seemed giant and long and he looked as though he could have bear hugged the entire group of 6 aggressors at once.

"Ah, Mr. Scott, good to see you've been acquainting yourself with the city's local ruffians. Now boys, I feel it would be in your best interest to disperse and find something a bit more worth your time and effort. My colleague and I will be leaving."

The boys all huddled behind their leader and his chalk-white face looked to be contemplating the wisdom of this brutish new comer. Finally, the group parted and I was left alone with this hulking man who had saved my butt.
He extended a large hand to me and as we shaked he introduced himself, "I do apologize for your rude entrance to our fair city. My name is Henry McCoy but for what I'm certain is obvious reasons, I'm called "Beast" by our fellow students. Shall we depart and meet them?"