This "Ace" thing was not so bad, Rimmer decided. He looked like a twink, for sure, but women loved it, and he had become rather adroit at avoiding conflict. The true test of a man, he decided, was not in how brainlessly he threw himself into the right fight, but how well he rallied other people into it before ducking out himself.

The man in the alleyway behind him had, however, followed him all the way from the bar.

Rimmer sighed, thinking about all of the ways to apologize to someone that large for calling his mother a wombat-faced galoot.