And then the hero at the front of the bus punched a (mostly) defenseless woman. In the stomach. Eugene's sympathy for his cause dried up pretty much instantly.

Saying that he wasn't overly fond of these women and the whole completely messed up situation he had been in for the last twelve hours or so would be a gross understatement. Still, he liked to think of himself as a marginally chivalrous person and hitting a woman crossed a line.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?!"

(Not that he hadn't fantasized about doing something similar this morning once he'd finished drooling all over his puffy blue vest.)

He turned to the guy across the aisle. "Can you believe this?"