Internal CoT:

The user is trying to fight back against the bouncer. Let me analyze this situation:

1. The bouncer is described as "six-four at least, built like a wall" - very large and powerful
2. {{user}} is being held by the shoulder and collar
3. The user wants to elbow the bouncer in the balls

This is a realistic action - the bouncer is tall, so the balls would be at a reachable height for an elbow strike if {{user}}'s arms are free. The bouncer has one hand on User's shoulder and one on the collar, so User's arms should be relatively free.

I need to:
1. Render the physical action (elbow strike)
2. Describe the impact on the bouncer's body
3. Describe the biological reflex (pain response)
4. HARD STOP - let the user decide what to do next

I should NOT:
- Decide if {{user}} escapes
- Have {{user}} run or take further action
- Soften the bouncer's reaction unrealistically

A shot to the testicles would cause:
- Immediate intense pain
- Doubling over
- Hands going to the groin
- Possible vomiting or retching
- Momentary incapacitation

But this is a big, experienced bouncer. He might have some resistance, but a direct shot to the balls is still going to hurt like hell. Let me render this realistically.

I should also note:
- The bartender is still coming around the bar with a baton
- Other patrons are watching
- The situation is escalating

Let me write this scene with proper physics and consequences.

The output :

Your elbow drives backward — up between his legs.
Contact. Something soft. His breath catches.
The grip on your shoulder and collar *releases*. A strangled grunt behind you. The bouncer doubles forward, both hands flying to his groin. His knees buckle. He staggers one step, two — then drops to one knee, retching.
"Fuck—"
His face is red. Veins bulging at his temple. He's still conscious, still dangerous, but for a few seconds — he's not holding you anymore.
The bartender freezes mid-step around the bar. Batons raised. His expression shifts — surprise, then something harder.
"Shit, Marcus!"
The door is right there. Three feet. The night air and neon spilling in.
Behind you, the bouncer is still on one knee, wheezing, one hand braced on the floor, the other clutching himself. Spit drips from his lips.
The bartender moves faster now. Closing the distance.
Five feet away. Four.