Mr Orpington sat back in his chair, smiling at Mr Hinds; the gorilla-like Mr Jarrett cracked his knuckles audibly whilst sizing up Mr Pears.
Mr Hinds’ lip curled into a snarl of a half-smile. “So, you will resist.”
“Damned straight I will” replied Mr Orpington, placing his cigar into his mouth, relighting it and puffing it back into life.
Suddenly Mr Pears was a blur; he leapt onto Mr Jarrett and flung his arms and legs around him, then head-butted him hard, so hard in fact that Mr Jarrett’s eyes crossed; then he arched his back, drew back his head and butted Mr Jarrett again…and again…and again, each time hitting Mr Jarrett square between the eyes with a loud crack that reverberated around the room.
Mr Jarrett began to sway in the manner of a ship’s mast on a rough sea.
He fell to one knee, still swaying.
He fell to his other knee.
Mr Jarrett fell backwards, landing on the thick carpet with a thud. Mr Pears drew back his fist, and slammed it into Mr Jarrett’s face; again and again and again, until the light went out from behind his eyes and Mr Jarrett moved no more.
Mr Pears stood up, the lenses of his spectacles transitioning from opaque to translucent, and turned to stare at Mr Orpington whose cigar had fallen from his open mouth, eyes grown wide.
Mr Hinds smiled, rose from his seat.
“Now Mr Orpington; the address please.”