I figured I'd share this real life story with everyone....

I remember every detail, so there's no way I can miss anything here; it'd been like 2 hrs since I got into my last fight; punk outside of Chuckie Cheese was talkin shit and laughin at me cause he won all these tickets on the ski ball machine.  He thought he was big shit cause his grandma had his back; he was wrong...  I got the tickets and had to book it before the cops got there, she got a couple good shots in on me and I got my lip busted but I still feel I won the fight... 

Anyway, my girl lives like 2 blocks down from some pretty shady people.  Everyday after school she has to walk by where they live to get home, she's got a couple friends with her so they usually run around playin in the street and the sidewalk on the way and everyone generally has a good time; I told her to keep it on the sidewalk and stay outta the damn street.  She calls me cryin, her mom wasn't payin attention so she managed to sneak up to her room with the phone.. 

Apparently this dickhead cut up her friends nerf football as they were playin nearby on the way home, I couldn't have that...  Nah...  Usually I'd drive up in my lamborghini but it was nice out so I took the bus.  Shit was packed, old homeless guy smelled like moldy cheese and Mickey's so I got off at a stop about 5 blocks down from where I was headed and walked the rest of the way.  I didn't wanna get all hyped up and dump my adrenaline out...  I remembered hearing about this ancient breathing techniqe people learn in Lamaze classes.  Started to employ the secrets on my way there; if it could control the pain a woman feels in labor, it would definatley be enough to prepare me for this bastard.  Fucker didn't know that I'd been watching MMA since the early 90's, through osmosis I'd become a grissled veteran of the sport. 

Anyway I get there and see the dude she described to a T, I knew it was gonna be rough, he looked serious, not a day over 70, sittin there right outside the Assisted Living Center like he owned the joint.  He was sittin in a Hoveround, chillin, eye's closed, head back, mouth open, snorin but I could tell he was ready to pounce, like he could sense me comin.  I decided it was best for me to strike first, I ran up on him, but on the way it was like he used some Jedi Mind shit and held my left toes to the ground with the force, I hit the concrete face first.  Hurt like hell but I wasn't done yet.  Got up a little wobbly/week in the knees but I'd seen enough Scott Smith fights to know all I had to do was catch him one time. 

Got my sense's back but he was serious now, eye's opening, yawning, blinking like he didn't know WTF was goin on, but that bastard knew what I was about... "Rd 2 old man!" I ran up on him again, but this time he rotated the Hoveround to the right just as I was about to unleash on him, fucker was spry, took me out at the shin.  He must've twisted my ankle on that one cause I couldn't support the weight of my right leg anymore, threw a hook off balanced and missed, body twisted on my way down and this time the back of my head hit the pavement harder than Ricardo Arona's head hit the mat when Page slammed his ass.  When I came to, I was in a hospital, severe concussion and blood loss, that's when I knew I had the heart of a lion; I'd gone up against a real life Randy Couture, the man just had the reflex's, the heart, the speed, the will power, fought like a demon and he pulled it off... 

My girl was mad at me since I scared that old man so bad, damn near had a heart attack when he saw all the blood on the pavement, little bitch.  Wheeled back into the nursing home faster than Kalib Starnes back peddaling from Nate Quarry.  Let me just say, violence solves everything guys.