The scene is a bar and the character Will was flirting with a man's girlfriend. It is previously established that the floor had a pile of broken glass from a fallen drink:
“Hey,” a man’s bark interrupted Will’s reverie. Will squinted up at the stranger who stood above him; it was hard to see, and with the lighting, the face was a blur in a blue silhouette. “That was my girlfriend.”
“Nice girlfriend,” Will commented smoothly.
The stranger pulled back his fist; Will smiled.
Will saw hit long coming; the fist came into his open hands like a fly ball.
Will’s hands collapsed the fist. Will twisted in a lunge against the counter, pinning the stranger there, hearing the wrist bones snap under his weight. Will laughed out loud and let go, letting the stranger slide to the floor from under him. The laughter made Will breathless and glassy-eyed as he turned around and smiled amiably at the stranger on the floor. The stranger grimaced and held his wrist. Will barely perceived the crowd move around them, out of the danger zone, but watching with morbid interest, and the incredulous cries of the bar owner, *no*, *stop*, and *vai via!* Broken-wrist heaved to his feet and rushed Will; Will hopped aside like a boxer in the ring. Will fought left-handed, sending the man into a fit of confusion, swinging sloppy, defenses wide open. Will took a hit or two, right in the face, and it made him bleed, but he laughed anyway and moved with light-footed predatory efficiency. Will glimpsed the glass on the floor; the stranger lunged. Will moved aside, the stranger’s foot hit the watery shards, and he slid like a man on ice, dancing absurdly to stay on his feet. Behind, Will picked up a barstool by the leg and moved like a baseball batter warming up at the plate; he came crashing down on the stranger.
Will looked at the single surviving wooden leg his hands with an air of satisfaction; the stranger was crumbled at his feet.
“Hey,” a man’s bark interrupted Will’s reverie. Will squinted up at the stranger who stood above him; it was hard to see, and with the lighting, the face was a blur in a blue silhouette. “That was my girlfriend.”
“Nice girlfriend,” Will commented smoothly.
The stranger pulled back his fist; Will smiled.
Will saw hit long coming; the fist came into his open hands like a fly ball.
Will’s hands collapsed the fist. Will twisted in a lunge against the counter, pinning the stranger there, hearing the wrist bones snap under his weight. Will laughed out loud and let go, letting the stranger slide to the floor from under him. The laughter made Will breathless and glassy-eyed as he turned around and smiled amiably at the stranger on the floor. The stranger grimaced and held his wrist. Will barely perceived the crowd move around them, out of the danger zone, but watching with morbid interest, and the incredulous cries of the bar owner, *no*, *stop*, and *vai via!* Broken-wrist heaved to his feet and rushed Will; Will hopped aside like a boxer in the ring. Will fought left-handed, sending the man into a fit of confusion, swinging sloppy, defenses wide open. Will took a hit or two, right in the face, and it made him bleed, but he laughed anyway and moved with light-footed predatory efficiency. Will glimpsed the glass on the floor; the stranger lunged. Will moved aside, the stranger’s foot hit the watery shards, and he slid like a man on ice, dancing absurdly to stay on his feet. Behind, Will picked up a barstool by the leg and moved like a baseball batter warming up at the plate; he came crashing down on the stranger.
Will looked at the single surviving wooden leg his hands with an air of satisfaction; the stranger was crumbled at his feet.