"Ain't about the money anymore, friend." Merle snarled, but he wouldn't waste the chance to get the rest of what he was owed, snatching the wallet to pluck out his fair share. Which of course was all of it in Merle's opinion. "Let one of these idiots try and short me without teachin' him a lesson, and they'll all think they can get away with it. They're slow like that."

Like the idiot that was creeping up on Merle's other side, likely ready to bash him upside the head with the bottle in his hand. Not that he got far, the moment the bottle was lifted, the younger man at Merle's back exploded into movement, fist connecting with the drunk's jaw, sending him careening back into a knot of nearby witnesses. Which of course didn't help matters, beer spilling on one of the others in a vest like Merle's. The first redneck to laugh at him got a punch swung his way and...

Sorry Jesus, things just went past 'talk it down' in a hurry.