microfiction, not sure if this works but l enjoyed writing it

And the day had started out so well. He’d had a nice breakfast, eggs and coffee. It had been good, not perfect, she hadn’t been much of a cook. But it had sure as hell been better than this, standing toe-to-toe with some vicious thug. He stopped to think for a moment. Twelve shots on his belt, only his belt was back in the room. Knife in his boot, too far to reach right now. Matches and tobacco in his pocket, not much good right now but damn he needed it.
"I say again you s__t. We don’t want you here, we want you out."
He pulled a smoke and a match. Struck the match, lit the smoke, and flicked the match away. This scene wasn’t new to him, it was getting to be pretty familiar truth be known. Stupid ba____ds in these small towns, all of ‘em have some delusions of heroics. He was going to have to stare this one down; they always caved.
"Put down that pick-ax or else we’re going to have problems."
The trick was finding the weak spot and pushing. Thug was a big one but none too bright, probably some brain-dead miner’s son. Maybe he knew that b__ch from the night before, maybe Thug was a brother, he hated brothers almost as much as fathers. A smarter man would have learned his lesson by now. He’d lost one of his fingers, on the left hand, and nearly been blinded once, but he still enjoyed what he did. This was what he did. Tomorrow it would be a new town, by next month it would be a new state. But right now he had a big slow f__k between him and his guns. But tomorrow would start out well.