It wasn't the first time and very likely not the last time that Raylan got popped in the face and crumpled. It wasn't something he was ever proud of, but shit happens. Thankfully, Raylan didn't tend to stay unconscious that long and Collins only has to wait a minute before the Marshal's eyes are rolling the correct way in his head and opening unevenly. The frown didn't come back immediately, though it didn't take more than a second for Raylan to lay eyes on Collins again.

Of course he tests his bonds as soon as he registers that he's restrained, a push against them as he simultaneously catalogs what he's got left on him, but he wasn't a thrasher and he wasn't inclined to give Collins a shred of anything the man might enjoy right now. The Irishman had gotten his service weapon and it's spare mags, and the 9 mm mate that lived at the small of Raylan's back. With a slight shift of his foot, he finds that even his little snub nosed .38 has been lifted. Through. Impressive almost, if Raylan weren't tied down as a result of it. Only a little blood in his mouth, a cut by his teeth if he had to take a guess. Could be worse.

Which means Collins was restraining himself and that Raylan had a chance to get out of this alive, if he played his cards right.

"You know there's a joke in here somewhere about you bein' fresh off the boat. Wanna tell me what the hell you think you're doin'?" Hello to you too.