Timmy’s body spun in the air from the impact, and landed hard on the pavement behind Reginald. Travis stepped forward, but stopped when he noticed nobody else moving. Reginald sheathed his gun, and turned to the crumbled figure.
“Is he alright?” Travis asked.
“He’s stronger than that," Tina said. "It looks like it hit his shoulder anyway.”
Reginald knelt down to Timmy’s level, realized that he was obviously breathing. “Are we done here, Timmy? Because I’m willing to call it a tie if you are.”
Timmy gasped for air. “I’m not going to give up.”
“Whoever has set you up doesn’t have your best interests in mind, and you know it.”
“This,” Timmy said between heavy breaths, “is my fight.”
Reginald sighed, and redrew his pistol as he stood. “I don’t want to do this.”
“Reggie!” Alan shouted, and Archer instinctively jumped out of the way.
A huge hulking figure landed heavily on the road near Reginald, cracking the pavement underneath him. A loud clang rang out as the sharp blade of a broadsword slammed down one six inches from Archer, barely missing Timmy’s huddled figure. The person stood up slowly, towering to nearly 7 feet and half again as wide. The man wore a plaid flannel sweat and what appeared to be a kilt made of khaki, a vast red beard dominating his face. He let out a peel of laughter as he raised his broadsword back to the ready position as Archer spun to look at him.
“Fierce,” Reginald quipped. “Couldn’t wait, huh?”
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