Impractical Jokers, Practically

Chapter Twenty-Five

I'm not sure what to do exactly, but with drunk Q not being helpful and Murr and Joe not around, it was up to me. Because there was no way that I was letting Sal fight this guy. Or vice versa. 

No way. 

I sidestep Sal, making sure I have enough room, and when the stranger's clenched fist rises up, eyes only on Sal, not focused on me, that's when I move. I brush past Sal, and before husband's fist can make contact with anyone, I put my hands on his chest and push him as hard as I can.

That was kind of a mistake.

His chest? Rock solid. His demeanor? Terrifying. Did he end up going anywhere, from that one little push? Hardly.

Now I got my hands on a immensely pissed off guy, who's twice my size, and I just tried pushing him with little success. 

I'm frozen, I can't move. Half of me is kicking myself--stupid, stupid, stupid, Alexa, how could you be so stupid--and the other half is too scared to do anything, afraid of what's coming next. 

Husband's mouth drops open a tiny bit, I guess I took him by surprise, before a smirk comes on his face. Yeah, I don't like that look, I liked the surprised look better on him. Less menacing. 

Sal's grabs my waist and pulls me off the guy and more towards himself. 

I feel a little comfort next to Sal, but still on edge. Because husband here has this weird look on his face. Like this is all a game to him. And we're the pawns. 

What to do? What to do? I'm freaking out in my head, the guy looks ready to throw down, and I've used all my options. If I let Sal fight, he'll go to the hospital. If I do anything, I'll screw it up. I'm no match for this dude. No matter how determined I am. 

Someone goes by, holding a bundle of drinks, bottles of beer and the like, and I get an idea. 

It all happens so quickly. Almost as if it is in slow motion. 

Husband's face goes red, ready to fight. He clenches his fists, clenches his arms, and cocks his neck. Sal's throwing me back, behind himself, out of the way of danger. I sidestep both of them, grab a bottle of alcohol from that passing bystander, and then, before Sal and husband can even touch each other, I flung the bottle at the guy's head. Hard as I can. 

I'm hoping. Praying that I didn't kill him. But praying that I knocked him off guard enough. So this can be over. 

Turns out, the guy goes down, right there on the bar floor, and doesn't move. I freak out, but relax when I see him breathing. I guess he's unconscious. 

Stunned, Sal looks at me but doesn't speak. I don't know what to say either. Q didn't change: same glossy eyes, same haggard stance. He looks a little pale though. Like he did see everything, including me hitting the guy in the head with a bottle of alcohol, and can't believe it either. 

My hands are shaking too hard. I can't process what to do next. 

Some people are milling about now, confused as to what happened. They've noticed something's up. Turns out if some huge guy is unconscious on the floor of a bar, people start to pay attention. 

When I see a girl that looks like Kristen heading towards us, that's when Sal and I snap out of it. 

"We should go," Sal and I say at the same time. Both of us grab Q, Sal on one side, me on the other. 

We stumble our way towards the table in the back, looking for Murr. That's where Sal left him, he said. He make our way past the mod of people and Murr is still sitting there, waiting. When he sees us show up, he looks pissed.