Between Chuck and Big O, Newt is starting to realize that any attempts he's making at being useful in this fight are futile. This is further confirmed when he lets himself get distracted by Chuck smashing the face of guy who'd started the trouble in the first place onto the bartop and ha, it all comes full circle. But he's stopped paying attention to the rest of the action and that's what lets another guy nail him with a fist to the stomach then catch him in the eye on his way back up hard enough to knock his glasses off. He can already feel the blood dripping from a cut under his brow, this one's definitely going to bruise.

He's not entirely sure if he's dizzy from the hit to the head or the abundance of alcohol he's had tonight or, more likely, a decidedly terrible combination of both, but he's glad to see that in the time it has taken him to recover from the blows, his assailant has already been knocked down to the ground. He bends down to pick up his glasses and through his haze, he can hear the bartender shout that he's going to call the police. Time to get the hell out of here.

He tugs at Owen's shirt this time, more urgently than he did with Chuck, as he puts on his glasses--and holy hell, the lenses still aren't shattered, this is something he'll be celebrating later--and gestures at the bartender, who's already on the phone. "Dude, we need to get out of here before the cops show up. I know you guys are like, totally having a great time or whatever, but I am so not down for spending the rest of this night in a cell."