The other guy fell to the ground with a guttural groan, followed by the splashy sound of what’s sometimes called a technicolour yawn. I massaged my knuckles gently – they were a little sore.

“You done?” I said, squatting down beside the guy’s head. His eyes opened, saw what must have seemed like the face of the devil looking down at him, and closed again. I raised my fist in triumph.

Don’t feel too bad for the guy; he’s a real piece of shit.

Chapter One