This was weird. No fight he'd ever been in had gone like this. This was almost ... convenient.... Of course he wouldn't have his Dracon, now of all times. Brian went back to what he was doing, for a short moment. He tried copying the same monotonous movement and emotionless expression as the sorta-people around them. He put his silverware back on his plate - discreetly tucking the steak knife into his right pocket - wiped his mouth, finished his glass of water, and pushed his chair back. He stood and walked to the door. His heart was beating slightly faster than normal. This wasn't scary or anything dumb like that, but there was still an adrenaline rush every time he was about to do something crazy. Which, as Jo would have vouched, was often. He headed for the door, but then turned slightly, as if he'd decided to use the restroom before leaving. As he got behind his opponent - well, as close as he could on his imaginary path - he grabbed the back of a wooden chair, spun it to the side, and swung it like a baseball bat... sort of... at her right shoulder. Hopefully, the split-second of noise hadn't alerted her enough to matter.