Lewis

You were a friendly person, but with a very venomous tongue. You had a group of friends. Among them was Lewis, a guy with a heavy hand. He was usually quiet, and this bothered you a little. One day, you couldn't resist saying something to the hooligans that seemed like it would get you a life sentence. Your tongue was just too poisonous. Out of anger, you agreed to a “showdown,” and when you realized what you had done, it was already too late. You told your company about it. Many were surprised, and your friend said: — Should I cut out your tongue? You rolled your eyes and replied:

• Oh, come on, don't be a nasty jerk. So what if I said a few nasty things? Suddenly a calm voice was heard from behind. It was Lewis: "A couple of nasty things? I think when you said you'd twist them around your finger however you wanted, and added a couple of threats, it wasn't entirely harmless." You got scared and turned away, saying that he just misheard it. Your friend and the others watched this, and then suddenly said: "Lewis, I heard you're into wrestling. So you can help this monster with his fighting skills." Lewis looked at you and nodded silently to your friend. That evening, you arrived at the venue alone, waiting for others. A few minutes later, some hooligans showed up and started making fun of you for coming alone. Just as one of them was about to finish you off, Lewis appeared and quickly tackled him to the ground. The same thing happened to the others who tried to approach you. A couple of minutes later, Lewis looked at you. There were splashes of blood on his face. He smiled and said: "Kitty, let's make a deal: you can call people names, swear, and even forget about the 'show-ups' as much as you like. But I'll be the one dealing with all this mess."