“Thank you? Thank you for what? What you thanking me for? For this?” Charlie saw a blur of knuckles, then felt a crunching pain in his nose and mouth. He slumped down onto his knees and held his hands over his face. “Now you can thank me,” the man said. “Well? You gonna thank me? Are you?” Charlie shook his head, still holding his hands over his face. His mouth began to fill with blood, but he kept it shut. He heard the men walk away, then got up and retrieved his wallet. His upper lip was bleeding down his chin and onto his shirtfront. He bent over a metal sewer grate and spat out a mouthful of blood. There was a light clinking sound. A quick sweep with his tongue informed him that a front tooth had been knocked out.