The Ultimate Fighter got up quickly, and Green, being stupidly fearless at this point, did too. Trip intercepted Green, and one of the PT Hunters grabbed the Ultimate Fighter’s arm. I, and my tray of goodies, stepped between the two sides as I tried to play peacemaker. “Whoa! Easy, man.”

The Ultimate Fighter bumped me and I got Thai peanut sauce on my shirt, and most of my food landed on the floor. It says something about how much I’ve matured over the last couple of years that I didn’t knock him the hell out for wasting such precious cargo. About half of the PT Hunters got up quickly. On my side the Haights and Gregorius jumped up, looking eager, while the rest of my side had that inevitable resigned look of I’d better help my idiot friends on their faces. Say what you will about Hunters, they always have your back. “Everybody, relax. No harm meant. My friend’s just had a few too many.”

Trip dragged the sputtering Green back into his chair. Luckily, Trip was the stronger of the two.

I tried to defuse the situation. “I’ve seen you on TV, right? Light heavyweight. You were great. I love that stuff—”

“Keep your idiot on a leash,” Ultimate Fighter snarled as he was guided to his seat. “Uncivilized Alabama rednecks.”

I thought that Green was a Californian, but saying so probably wouldn’t have helped matters. In fact, I think Nate was the only native Alabaman at the table, and he was well spoken and wearing a tie. I sat down. “Green, you dumbass. Chill the hell out already or I swear I’ll break another one of your bones.”

“Sorry, Z. It isn’t my fault they’re such jackasses. I was just telling everybody about how PT is a bunch of no-good, backstabbing, lying cheats, and Armstrong is a thieving sack of—”

“Dude, use your inside voice,” Trip suggested as he studied the table of muscle and testosterone growling at us. “I don’t want to get beat up.”

Green giggled. “I’m not worried. We got Z. Just hide behind him. That was my plan. He’s huge.”

“Thanks,” I muttered. “I’ll remember that when I’m getting my teeth kicked in.”

A server came by, and I quickly apologized for the mess and slipped her a twenty. Luckily nobody had called security, and it looked like everything was going to be cool. VanZant got back, saw that some of the staff was cleaning up my spillage and everyone looked tense, and asked what he’d missed. I jerked a thumb at Green. “I think he needs to sleep it off.”

VanZant shook his head sadly. “He gets spun up sometimes. I’ve got him. Come on, man. Why don’t you go splash some water on your face or something.” He dragged Green up by his collar.

“But I didn’t finish my creampuffs!”

“My apologies, Z. He is a really good Hunter when he’s sober.”