Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed another person had entered the fray: My own Charles McChuckerstein went in as back up. He and Carlbomb dragged the man out the door and onto the sidewalk, while the bartender went back to filling drinks.
I didn't see this part, but I'm told the man threw a few punches at Carlbomb, landing one on the brick wall. Chuck helped restrain him. The man eventually left the scene, obeyed the rule that he not return to the bar. Carlbomb gave the man back his glasses, which had flown off in the mess. Carlbomb is known for his civility in times of bar scuffles.
The boys came back into the bar and bellied up. They got another drink and rehashed what happened. The look on Chuck's face was precious: One part exhilaration, one part pride. Princey and I sent our dudes an appreciative shot.
This was whole thing was so freaking cute. Unfortunately "cute" and "adorable" aren't the words bar heroes necessarily like to hear. But I can't think of better words to describe it.
Meanwhile, this is what color we painted our bedroom yesterday: