eggo gets in a fight!

I just got in one hell of a fight.

I’m walking up to the local convenience store for some ice cream though I haven’t decide what flavor I want. I pass this massive guy, the weight lifter type. I have these weird urges, every time i pass one of these guys, these gap wearing, pretty boy, sholders-the-size-of-a-truck type guys, I have the uncontrolable urge to fight them. No reason, just to see how well I would fare. now, I’m not a big guy, I’m 5’10", about 135 lbs on a good day, and I work out–but not very often.
So I walk pased this guy, and get my usual urge. and for some reason, my brain shuts off all major control over my body, so i’m watching the following unfold, not realy deciding what i’m doing:
My feet carry me a few paces past the guy, and stop. my head cocks around and my mouth spouts, “What did you say?” in the most cocky tone I’ve ever heard.
“huh?” the guy replies. he didn’t hear my dripping abrasiveness.
“What the hell did you say?”
“I didn’t say nothing to y–” I hit him. I actualy hit him. I just hit this man in the face for no good reason.
I fell myself step back to see what he is going to do, and after feeling his now-bloody bottom lip, he rears back to hit me.
I attempt to duck, but he catches me directly in the eye. It hurts. It hurts a great deal. My vison blurs for just long enough to to not notice the next punch, comming into my mid-section.
I double over, expecting his knee to come flying at my face as I go down, I throw my hands out to block, the knee doesn’t come. I fall, face down, into the dead grass.
“What the hell is your problem man?” he sounds like I hurt his lip a bit.
I charge him, never realy standing up from the face down position, just sort of running and lifting myself up to knock him down.
He pushes my head down, so I miss my intended target of his ribs,and clip his knees. he lands on top of me, hitting some tender part of his face on my boot heel. he lets out a satisfying sound of having the wind knocked out of him, and I strugle on top of him. Straddleing him,facing toward his haed now, I deliver three nice blows to the back of his head.
Having a severe weight advantage, he throws me off, and kicks me against a chain-link fence, it’s one of those three foot deals that are only good for keeping a little bitty dog in your yard. I lay there, my cheek pressing on the fence about eight inches off the ground, and he stomps on me. right on my spine. I feel the most intense pain I’ve ever felt, and I hear somthing crack.
Panicing, thinking he’s accidentaly killed me, he steps back. I draw in a breath, and get up as fast as I can. It isn’t fast. He is expecting me to give up I guess, because he doesn’t look ready.
I charge one more time, this time I land a great tackle in his thick ribs. I notice that he is wearing a nice silk shirt. Or at lteast what feels like a nice silk shirt.
he falls back this time, landing with his upper half in the street. He holds on to my head bringing me down to the street along with him. I hear a thunk of his head striking the pavement, right before my head does the same.
Another sharp pian goes gown my spine, and my neck feels very warm. I lift a hand, thinking I’m bleeding, and I’m not. I jar his arm from around my head and get up, again not very quickly. he is still laying on the pavement, legs sticking up over the curb, feet in the grass.
I stumble backward and trip, sitting down very hard in the grass. I lay back, not of my own accord, and start to drift. I finaly manage to get my hand up to the top of my head to feel the knot, instead, my fingers feel cool blood.
He gets up and looks over at me, and I fully expect him to stomp on me again, but instead, he just staggers away, looking back a few times to make sure that I’m still laying in the grass. I am every time. He rounds the corner a block down and I decide to get up before he has a chance to call the police.

So I walk pased this guy, and get my usual urge. I decide that it would be pretty stupid to actualy hit the guy, he’d pummel me. So I keep walking with out so much as a second thought.
I end up deciding on chocolate-chip cookie dough ice cream, Blue Bell.

Damn…I was hoping you’d gotten your ass kicked…instead we get treated to some stupid ‘fantasy’.

eggo, I’d really, honestly like to say something wise in response to this but I’m reduced to lame jargon.

It sounds like you just may have issues, y’know? More than National Geographic, actually. You attacked a peaceful bystander because of his looks?

We’re fighting Ignorance here, son. Picking fights with strangers just doesn’t seem, I dunno, intelligent.


Reminds me of “The Devil’s Advocate”.

actualy it’s a work of pure fiction. I just got insired by an old thread in IMHO, about urges that you resist. i really do have this urge alot of times though.

inspired, not insired.

I think you should’ve attacked him with waffles. ;):stuck_out_tongue: ;):slight_smile:

-The Shadowed One-

Wow, that was mind-numbingly bad fiction.

Helplessly cracked up laughing on that one!
::chalks another one up for ssskuggiii::



:: scratching head ::



I think someone has seen Fight Club one too many times.
For your next piece of fiction tell us how you beat yourself up.

Darn you ** Jack ** that is exactly what I was going to say.

:: My face gets all red and I take off the out shirt leaivng a white tank top

:: Runs through scenerio much like eggo’s but it comes out in a draw.


I guess the only thing to say is great minds think alike. Great post man. How about a beer.

Darn me? DARN ME?!?

Alright, that’s it. Let’s go. Me and you. Right now. Right here.


I thought it was well done.
While reading it, I kept on thinking, ‘this can’t be real’

135lbs on a good day??? This can’t be real.
He picked a fight with a guy that had shoulders like a truck?
I’m glad you came clean eggo.

Ya duped me…for a short while.

It reads like a bad paperback. But I was honestly expecting you to say that he grabbed a part of your anatomy, and you screamed at the top of your lungs “Let Go my Eggo!”, and woke up.


Sorry about the Darn thing but I have trouble typing Damn, fuck, bitch…

Hey that wasn’t that hard

Well just Damn it all then.

How about that beer cursing makes me fuckin’ thirsty

Oh, well since you put it that way,


:: clink ::

you know something eggo…you…ah. forget it.

I am clearly and absolutely not a proponent for violence, particularly unwarranted (yeah, I know: Is there ever “warranted violence?”)

That said: the next time you have the urge to pick a fight with some massive stranger, I say…

“go for it! live the fantasy! you only go around once in life!”

yeah. I’m Japanese.