Once I found out that I had fought the Jamaican ambassadors son, some yardies were refused entry and they kicked off, one hitting my buddy on the head with a bottle. I launched over my 6ft co workers shoulder and tackled the Rastafarian to the floor, we landed in a heap and I gained side control, got his neck and squeezed all the while he was pulling at my hair (had dead also) while I was calling him a bitch for pulling hair. I looked up and realised that I had ten large black men of Jamaican ancestry and 4 security standing around me like some kinda tight club. Told the guy "your not gonna be coming in now are you" and let him up, everyone was happy and we parted ways.
There was a driveby after a revised entry and a guy flashed his 22 in his waistband. Everyone dove for cover and as we got up we realised skinhead Kev had dived over All Star Dave to shield him. The music from the bodyguard followed Kev for years after.
Was in a tussle outside a club and we were getting the worst of it, Adrien ran over and used his kosh on a guy. Where he hit him in the head a huge spurt of blood flew into the air and the guy dropped, the fight stopped immediately, everyone staring at the body and blood, probably 8 dudes fucking legged it in all directions like whippets after a second delay. Didn't hear of anyone dying luckily.
A bunch of marines were giving it all that and at least 10 of them and 8 doorstaff got into it, the bar staff slammed the shutters closed as shit started flying and Elton John's Saturday Nights All Right For Fighting came on the dukebox.