Day of the Millrace, 30th of Summer, 525 M.E. (Betelgeuse): Picture him: a bully, all meat and mass, jailhouse tattoos, armpits' oniony sweat, fishgluey slime. The terror of the neighborhood, starting fights with everyone, encouraging others to fight even when he's not around. Few friends, many enemies, complicated relationship toward women.

Finally, someone stands up to him, a much smaller man but with a sinewy build and a feral, ferret-like swiftness. He gets in several punches in rapid succession before the bully can hit back, but then the bully braces himself and comes back with a couple shots of his own. Despite that, the bully, surprised and caught off guard, is soon reeling, dazed and confused. 

By that point, a crowd has gathered to watch the fight and out of the mass of people pops a bystander who walks up to the bully and punches him square in the jaw and then immediately falls back into the surrounding crowd again. Disappears. The bully is hurt, badly, but still has some fight left in him, and he and his original opponent exchange a few more punches.

"Cut it out, you two!,"  the bystander shouts from the safety of the surrounding crowd. "Stop it!"

Both the bully and his opponent are dazed and exhausted. They trade a few more blows, weak shots more for show than to cause any real damage, and then walk away.  

Back in the crowd, the bystander, Donald J. Trump, demands the Nobel Peace Prize for ending the fight.