It's like something out of a cartoon, watching Volk go down like that, and if he wasn't in such a sour mood, Travis would laugh. Instead, he moves to collect Volk with a fist wound into the front of his shirt, his other fist at the ready, and haul him back on his feet.

"Hey!" he says, inches from Volk's face. More to prove a point than anything: "I'm no fucking cop, alright?"