Tom walked down the road at pace, finishing off his ciggerete, wielding a knife. 5 men trailed behind him on either side, 10 in total in finely tailored suits and paddy caps.

As they walked people screamed and quickly changed direction while those who were to ''Tough'' were pushed aside and beaten. Tom stopped and looked up at their destination. Mickys bar. The man they were looking for was a mick by the name of Thomas O'Rion and had been avoiding work at the docks.

The boys around Tom whipped out knives as the door was kicked down. ''Good evening gentleman'' Tom shouted. The music in the bar stopped and everyone looked their way. A bunch of hard looking men at the back stood up producing knives of their own. ''Where the fuck is Thomas O'Rion. Your late for work. By ten fucking days''

One of the hard men at the back stepped foreword laughing and looking around the bar for support. ''Right here you brummie fuck. How may I be of service'' Thomas laughed aloud sending snot everywhere while about 15 men walked up behind him. ''By the way son ill have ya know im Irish...so watch the fuck out''

Tom looked up at Thomas with cold eyes. ''Oh your Irish? Am I supposed to give a fuck?'' Tom looked over to the musician's and pointed his knife. ''Who told you to stop the bloody music'' he yelled. The music started and Tom walked towards Thomas with a beer bottle in hand. Tom nodded to himself before smashing the bottle with all his force over Thomas's head leaving him in a heap on the floor saturated in beer.

''Lets fucking go lads'' Tom shouted lunging at the nearest micks throat as his boys rushed in behind him joining the fight with knives, baseball bats and beer bottles. As Tom bent down to pluck the knife from the micks throat a man grabs him throwing him onto a table. his screams not heard over the music. Tom whipped off his cap and slashed the mans eyes with the razor blades that were sewn into the peak. Tom stood up and started stomping the man screaming random words until KL pulled him back. Tom looked up at Kl panting before winking and joining the fight again.

As Tom finished off his last man with his bloodied fists he looked around at the commotion he had caused. Men lay all around him must breathing some not. ''Good fucking job lads'' Toms tone changed as he looked down at his casualties. ''Get them back to the docks dead or alive'' Tom ordered. Tom looked at the rest of the people in the bar. ''Get the fuck out now. Theres vacancies at the docks if anyone wants a job. Lads. Torch the bar'' Two  younger boys looked at each other and smiled before running outside to grab petrol bombs. The owner rushed up to Tom in complaint about how this was his only income. Tom laughed before grabbing the man by the collar and yanking him onto a table. ''Oh but you do Mr. Docks tomorrow at 7 o clock. And don't be late''