In an elegant display of agility, you twist your body out of the mud and bolt up with all the dynamic force your puny 20-something frame can muster. You land fist first into the bikers face. Blood splatters out in a fantastic shower of gore coating the horrified members of his gang. He crumbles like a fallen leaf before you as you roar with animalistic passion. For the first time in your life you feel alive! Even more so than when you hired that Prostitute in Las Vegas. This is the most manly thing you have ever accomplished. The testosterone floods through your veins, time slows. As the curtains of plasma fall in abstracted fractal patterns, you see your entire life laid out before you. Not what has led to this moment, but all the places this moment could potentially lead you. The heights of glory you are capable of achieving upon a trillion different divergent paths. Truly the entire Earth is your domain, you possess the sheer will of the modern western human and privileged potential to shape the universe to your own design.
Perhaps time did stop, for you at least, for as the splatter finally settled upon the cement, time snaps back to reality as do the cuffs from the copper behind. Unfortunately your immaculately placed punch shoved the nasal cartridge of a snotty 9 year old up into his brain, which is apparently frowned upon, even if they were the member of a brutal bike gang terrorizing the popsicle stands of the neigbourhood. It appears like the only fate you will be mastering is the sacred art of imprisoned butt-hole protection. Oops!