[There was a proverb of the American Antebellum age that said it was easier to lure with honey than with vinegar. It seemed like the kind of colloquialism that didn't require a range of experiments to be proven sound, and it was brought up in every early morning movie that he managed to watch with a Southern setting. Even so, Rory wasn't sure whether bashing someone in the head fit the paradigms of honey or vinegar. Violence was its own substance, it could stand alone.
[So violence it would be. Rory stepped back, clearing the way for Jack, the writer, to make his escape through the shop and back out to the real world, if there was such a thing. Because from so many paces behind, hell crept back in like it always would, and Rory, too strong for some careless Irishman of a journalism fan, took Jack by the back of his collar. He jerked the man out to the sidewalk, and spoke low with a smile for the sparse public.]
Don't make a scene now, bud. I only want to ask ya some questions.