The impact blacks out his vision for a second, and all he really catches of that is Tony's bark of laughter - and Jack's laughing too, even as he lands in the arms, willing and unwilling, of a group of kids who barely look old enough to be here in the first place. It's hard to keep up with things second by second when his head's still fuzzy from impact, but he's been in enough fights to know to lever onto his feet and lunge; he'll probably hit something, and with any luck, that something will be Tony. Maybe? Who cares. It's been so long since he's been in a fight and he feels young and happy and stupid again, and it's so nice, so nice.

And, y'know, he's pretty happy to finally get a chance to duke it out with Tony [insertlastname]. Namely by grabbing someone's half-empty beer on the nearby bar and swinging it at Tony's face like a bludgeon. People are yelling, someone's probably calling the cops - it's fun, he's having fun.