“I don’t want it to get bloody”

Outside the hotspot the crowd was, as always nuts, and the mass swayed back and forth.
It was one of those nights where you have two allies, your friends and your temper. But could easily lose both very quickly and unexpectedly if you weren’t careful.
Before soon two big guys behind had rammed me a little too much, and my second ally, temper, was lost, I told them to stop but they persisted to push.
“Let’s settle this,” they said and, being drunk and born male, I gave them my meanest grin and we walked off to ‘settle it’.
They followed me closely and as I walked towards the park I considered the options here.
They were pretty big and would, without effort, beat the shit out of me, and when I looked behind me I had also lost my first ally, and was now alone without friends.
I reached the big tree, and just for a second I envisaged Gangs Of New York, and the magnificent Day-Lewis as he makes his first appearance in the film and removes his coat in the coolest way you could ever remove a coat, and the blistering snow from the movie matched the one on the ground now perfectly.I gave my fighting-outfit a last notion before I was about to be minced and decided it wasn’t worth ruin my beige suede coat.
I pulled it off as graciously I could and tidily folded it into a neat package and placed it by the tree, “I should at least be smashed with dignity and style”, I thought to myself.
The two guys froze and looked at me.
Overloaded with adrenalin, and sure to be over-flood with my own gore I explained to them that I didn’t want to get blood on it, and gave the 'come on-sign' with my arms.
I was now ready to get flattened.
This whole display must have given them the very false impression that I was something of a fighter and I was referring to their blood, and both of them started to excuse the whole situation and said we should just call it off and head back instead.
But my adrenalin had now reached its capacity and I couldn’t let go of the situation.
If my first ally wouldn’t have shown up then to push me aside and into a bar to resume consuming beer, I’m pretty sure I would still stand there silently yelling, “Come on”.