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“Let me just- uh, hey, what’s going on?” Patrick asks, freezing mid-step to take in the sight before him.
Two men, head to toe in black (what are they, ninjas or something?) have a third struggling between them, trussed up like a badly wrapped Christmas present. They stare at him, dumbfounded, while the man they’re- kidnapping? Abducting?- carrying kicks and flails around like a demented fish out of water.
“You goddamned cock smoking fuckers, put me the fuck down. God, what is wrong with you, you are so dead when I get free, you don’t even fucking know how badly I’m gonna fuck your shit up,” he rants.
“So, like, are you going to put him down now?” Patrick asks, pressing the speaker button on his phone, hoping Jonny can hear him. “’Cause I’m pretty sure kidnapping’s illegal, and carrying someone out of a second floor bathroom is kinda hard to do without being noticed, you know?”
“Seriously?” the flailing man shrieks, going still to stare at Patrick in stunned disbelief, his face bright red and sweat plastering his dark hair to his forehead. “That’s what you say when you come across a goddamned kidnapping? What the fuck about getting me some goddamned help?” he growls, throwing his weight around again; one of his captors actually stumbles, and his back dips closer to the floor.
“Sure, yeah, I’ll just leave you alone with them while I go try and find someone that can help. It’ll only take, oh, ten minutes at most? Since the party’s down a floor and on the other side of the building, and all. How fast can a person be kidnapped, anyway?” Patrick shoots back, and he’s pretty sure he sees the guy’s mouth quirk up in a smile.
“That’s enough outta yous,” masked man number one (who Patrick immediately decides to name Doyle, because he sounds like he’s from South Boston) growls. “Tie ‘im up, toss ‘im in a closet.”
Goon two (Lurch, Patrick thinks, would be a good name for him) lumbers closer after dropping the legs he’d been holding. The person said legs belonged to (from here on out to be called ‘Person’, because Patrick is getting really confused now) grunts and stretches, drawing Doyle’s attention. Patrick doesn’t see much more than that, because Lurch is within reaching distance and he’s too busy doing something really stupid.
He grabs the collar of Lurch’s shirt and starts swinging, managing to land a few decent hits before the surprise wears off and Lurch starts fighting back. It’s not long before Patrick’s lost his upper hand, and over the sound of numerous bruises-to-come being created, he can hear the sounds of another fight and hopes Person isn’t getting his ass kicked too badly.
“Down!”
Patrick drops without thinking, slipping out of Lurch’s grasp just before someone goes flying over him, tackling the bigger man to the ground. It’s Bur, and wow, he looks pissed, and hey, Jonny’s there too, where’d he- oh, look, Lurch’s nose is broken. Patrick probably has a concussion (which sucks, but at least they’re between seasons) and he can’t quite focus, but he knows that’s a good thing.
“Christfuck, I’ve got blood all over my shoes,” Person bitches, and hey, he’s not dead, which makes Patrick happy. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but did you call the cops?”
Jonny nods, which makes Patrick’s head hurt looking at it, and Person lashes out to knock Lurch upside the head with the heel of his boot, even though he’s not moving anymore and Bur looks like he just got sent to the box for taking Chara out of a game.
“Thanks for the timely assist,” Person adds, holding his fist out for Patrick to bump. “Sorry we didn’t get to exchange pleasantries. I’m Ray Person.”
Patrick laughs until he pukes.