The Mr Bungle Fictional Story (Privilege Abuse)

One day, a light, cool looking guy walked into a bar.
Let’s call him Tony.
As Tony headed towards the bar tender,
he stepped harshly on the foot of a hefty looking bloke.
Can we just call this guy Bungle?
Bungle instinctively reacted and pushed Tony away.
That was one push too hard.
Tony lost his footing, staggered and fell to the ground,
hitting the floor with his elbow.
He tumbled again and smashed his face against a wooden chair.
Tony remained silent for a few seconds,
but then shrieked in pain.
His eye glass had fallen off and was squashed.
The mobile phone he was holding swooshed across the floor.
When Tony turned round, one could see a golf ball sized lump on his face.
His nose clearly needed realignment.
One can only imagine that a thousand tiny stars
had just whizzed past his face.
Follow that with a flash of the Orion constellation.
Bungle and one other bar client quickly came to his aid.
Every one in the bar looked worried.
The fall was that bad.
Apart from Tony’s facial injuries, no one was sure of
what other damage he had sustained.
The bar tender called for an ambulance immediately.
Tony got up and tried to pick up his mangled glasses,
but he was so dazed he just fumbled.
Bungle bent down and rubbed on his own
leg in a bid to relieve an apparent foot pain.
Bungle took off the shoe over his violated foot.
Perhaps he was trying to check for any sign of bleeding.
But there was no blood.
Bungle took off his shoes and held them in his right
hand as if to suggest he was going to walk barefooted
until the pain had died down.
By now the lump on Tony’s face seemed to
have to grown a little bigger.
He needed to be taken to the hospital quickly.
Tony was made to seat on a chair with his
head supported by a hand.
Was that the hand of an angel?
Well, Tony was so concussed he probably didn’t
know who was around him.
Minutes later, an ambulance arrived
and Tony was helped to his feet.
Tony was led out accompanied by Bungle.
Tony got his injuries treated in A&E.
Bungle on the other hand didn’t think he required any treatment .
Tony stepped out of the treatment and headed for
the waiting area were Bungle was.
Bungle repeated his regret at what had happened.
You must pay for my glasses said Tony.
See how you made me look like Pinochio.
I am sorry but I do like your sarcasm said Bungle. 
Tony’s facial expression was as demurred
as the face of a winter morning.
As they both left the building,Tony felt the
need to quiz Bungle further.
You pushed me because you are a big guy.
 If I was the huge one, I don’t think you would have
the audacity to push me the way you did, would you?
No, No, that is not the case. I pushed you because
you stamped heavily on my foot said Bungle.
I know you are pretty angry with me but
all I can do is apologise.
Well, Let’s just say that hell never broke loose.
How much does your glasses cost asked Bungle as
they both walk out on to the streets.
Roughly 100 quid said Tony.
Please wait for me. Let me get some cash.
Tony stood by the entrance of the train station
as Bungle headed for the nearest ATM.
Bungle returned and handed the money over to Tony.
Tony paused for a few seconds.
He looked reluctant.
Come to think of it.
You can have your money back.
No, replied Bungle.
It is only fair that I pay for the glasses.
Look at the injuries you have sustained.
Please keep it.
Well if you insist said Tony.
Tony took the wad of cash and shoved it in his pocket.
Tony went inside the train station and
Bungle walked off through a side street.
 The moral of this story?
What would you do if you were in the position of Tony?
Call your own hefty people to deal with Bungle?
Take the Money for your glasses and give
Bungle the look of derision?
Punch Bungle and scram from the place
with automatic alacrity?
Just see it as a simple mistake and
have a drink over it?
I suspect there are many possible opinions,
so I leave it to you. Be the judge.