Edmund blinked at the constable's words, shoulders slumping as he looked to where he'd nodded.  Right.  Right?  Right!

He suddenly felt like crying, and then very quickly, like screaming.  Yelling.  Cursing.  Maybe even all of those things at once.

Sluggish and unsteady, Edmund got to his feet only to lean down again to pick up the hand cuffs.  They were cold and cruel in his hands.  "Damn me for trying to help," he muttered, and then repeated it as he turned to the man still on the ground.

"Damn me!  Damn me I guess for trying to - help your ass-licking, cock face constable self, you git!  You git!  I was really worried about you, you know, I hope you have to crawl home tonight.  Damn you!"

Red from anger and embarrassment and blood dropping down his scraped cheek, Edmund turned and threw the cuffs down the street.  "Damn this dratted town!"

Did she feel a little bad when the little fucker swayed? … No. One day he was going to grow up to be a giant dick, cheat on his wife, and steal all her assets, too. Best put them in their place while they were still young. God knew her younger brothers didn’t dare touch a woman.

And then he proved her right! All men were the same! She sucked in a breath – and sucked, and sputtered, and wheezed, and fuck if that would stop her--!

The constable tried to sweep the baton up between his legs … but coughed too hard. The baton slipped up out of his hands, launched itself into his smooth throat, and then landed on his foot. His eyes watered as he gasped for breath and clutched his neck, coughing.

This constable was a real mess.  Edmund almost felt bad for him, especially when he hit himself like a fool, but he'd already learned his lesson.

He was still angry though, so he picked up the baton from where the man had dropped it.  Considered throwing it like he did the cuffs, but didn't.

"Shame on you, and damn you to hell.  I'm keeping this."

Nothing else left to say to the coughing, injured, stupid man, Edmund stuck the baton in his pants and ran.