Years ago, when my wife was a 100 lb. teenager, she and her girlfriends were drinking a wee bit too much vodka one Friday night as they became a little disorderly in the streets of my old hometown.
Seeing this disturbance of the public's peace, our big burly City Police Chief, a retired Marine Drill Sgt., set out to put an end to this wild gathering in the streets of his little town. Ah, but my future wife would have no part it. She told him to Go Home! Go do your Job!! Leave Us alone!!!
And that's when the real trouble started.
When the Chief threatened to haul the whole gang of these little vixens to the crowbar hotel, the ringleader, my future hen, took a wild right hook swing at the Chief, but missed.
The Chief retaliated with a shot of pepper spray to her face.
End of fight. End of story. 15 minutes later that dastardly little vixen ringleader was sitting in the Chief's office waiting for her parents to come and take her home.