He hadn't planned on getting into a bar fight, oh no. God knows how badly his sister was worried the last time he did, though the concern was mainly for the person he had punched. Then Vickie had decided to lecture him about how studying for a doctorate gave him an obvious advantage because medical knowledge. Not his fault he knew where to hit punches. People just underestimate him too much because he was boney.
But would hitting his sister's ex-boyfriend for calling Vickie a slut and other things be something she wouldn't endure? Maybe, but still. He could chalk this all up to being drunk, especially since his sister didn't know he could probably drink people twice his size under the table. And didn't she knew how to pick boys? His punches were only shabby so far, with only a few decent punches up to his nose. Don't you know how to aim?
Ducking yet another poorly-aimed hit, Victor decided to pin down the poor guy for a few punches to the face, meanwhile pulling some muscles on his neck. Being in a fight is just fucking tiring. Don't know why drunkards do this all the time.
