Biting the Bullet

I climbed up the steel fire escape ladder to get a clear vantage over my arena. Resting on an iron rung was an abandoned pair of heavy silver metal cufflinks shaped like miniature skulls. I set my glass bottle securely against the brick wall and snatched them up. A real contender does not bother with standard fasteners. Using the leverage of my heavy boot heel against the grating, I bent one cufflink post into a sharp hook, then threaded it clean through my black lace wristband. It clamped shut with a fierce bite. Now my fist carries an iron knuckle ornament ready for whatever walks down this alley next.