Bellerophon

‘You come to the best shopping arcade in the system except for Rodeo Drive and buy towels?’ Gerry cried, outraged, rudely ransacking Sam’s carrier bag. She wrapped one of the towels around herself and struck a pose, standing on a chair. ‘Romeo, Romeo, come rip off my bath sheet!’

A man bearing a badge proclaiming him manager tugged at her towel. ‘Get down, madam, and ladies, keep the noise down!’

Gerry let the towel fall; the manager was left holding it while she shrieked. ‘Help! I am being molested!’ She crossed her arms about herself as if covering her nakedness.

‘All men are bastards!’ Janet shouted. She and a couple of the other girls grabbed the unfortunate man, lifted him and deposited him on the other side of the barrier. Ejected from his own restaurant, he stood forlorn, still holding Sam’s towel. Two mall security guards, spotting the commotion, unwisely charged over and tried to tug Gerry down off the chair.

‘Belly-Up!’ Gerry roared at the top of her voice and swan dived onto the guards, knocking them flying across the gathered tables, the other girls swarmed over them and bedlam broke out as more guards came sprinting, but were met by still more hostesses who appeared from nowhere, echoing the battle cry ‘Belly-Up!’ Other customers shrieked and fled in panic as battle raged, riot batons were captured and turned on their owners filling the air with tear gas and chairs and glasses flew as stunned victims collapsed, whole pizzas were thrown discus fashion and spilled beer made footing treacherous.

Pawan vaulted over the bar and evicted the barman with a shoulder charge, calmly started filling glasses with lager and lining them up on the bar, shouting ‘Beers on the house!’ Adding to the general confusion and riot, a passing gang of marines heard the cry and rushed into the fray to claim their share.

Sam took a punch meant for Greta, but the more worldly girl ducked, and the heavy-set guard she had enraged swung a haymaker. Although she only caught a glancing blow, Sam’s ears rang, her eyes crossed, and she went down to her knees. The big guard grabbed her hair and pulled her back up, producing cuffs with his other hand, but his vicious grin faded, and he let go of both her hair and the cuffs to clutch his crotch, or rather, Greta’s hand as she reached between his legs from behind and took firm possession of it.

Gerry, covered in cuts from broken glass which she had landed on, shoved her head under Sam’s arm, holding her up as she started to collapse back down. ‘Aw,’ Sam heard her complain as shrill whistle blasts heralded a Fleet Shore Patrol, armed and armoured and very ready for trouble, doubling toward them, forcing the crowd apart like a fast ship through water.