Hahahaha, I can't stop fuckin' laughin'! I'm at me mate Posh Bloke Brian's house in Glasgow (that's fuckin' "Glasscow" for any yanks readin' this) an' we just had a fuckin' hysterical fight w'some junior twatfaces-in-trainin' a few minutes ago.
I come up on the train today from London, mate, 'cos I got the next few days off o'me work an' I left one o'them non-arab blokes in charge at me gym. Hopefully it in't fuckin' burned down when I get back. Anyway, after I had TWO blankety blanks on the train I were fuckin' hungry, mate, so I made Posh Bloke Brian show me where I could get pizza an' a kebab. So we're walkin' home an' Brian the fat bastard is eatin' his pizza out the box 'cos he's one o'them fat blokes what's always fuckin' eatin', an' some little fuckin' twats in kappa tracksuits what have been sittin' on the steps o'some buildin' come walkin' towards us. I'm tryin' not t'fuckin' laugh at their poofter kappa gear 'cos I just wants t'eat me kebab an' pizza, mate, but I can't fuckin' help meself when one o'them stupid midgets (Brian says they call those poofs "neds" in Glasgow, mate) shouts out "we're the pizza robbers!" in some really stupid-soundin' high voice.
Honestly mate, if I weren't holdin' me pizza I would have done a flyin' kick like Cantona right then an' fuckin' there, but instead I just says "what's the matter mate, did y'mam spend all y'money f'food on a fuckin' widescreen? That's the flaw in the benefit system, mate. Anyway, it's one o'them Teenage Mutant Turtle pizzas an' it's got marshmallows an' smarties on it, I doubt y'd like it."
I dunno if this twat even understood what I were sayin', lads, but the next fuckin' thing I know he shouts "FUCK OFF YOU STUPID ENGLISH TWAT" or some other bollocks an' starts runnin' t'wards me. I had me pizza an' kebab box in me hands, mate, so all I could do were one o'them karate front kicks, an' I am shite at kickin'. It decked him all the same, though, an' he falls back on his fuckin' arse. His mates were about t'catch up, though, so I knew it weren't gonna be over that easy. Posh Brian finally stops fuckin' eatin' an' puts his pizza down on top o'one o'them bins an' shouts at them little ned poofs that they can have their fuckin' go if they want. Brian's got that low self-esteem like Joe Riggs, mate, so he don't care if he beats up teenagers. That's English public schools for ya, in't it?
As I were sayin', the bender I floored w'me karate kick starts t'get up. I drops me pizza down on the ground (it's still in the box, mate, so it never got dirty, I am eatin' it now an' I in't thrown up or fainted yet) an' waves him on. He screams out some bollocks that I couldn't even fuckin' understand an' makes me laugh again, then tries t'kick me in the fuckin' knackers, the dirty bugger! I were right annoyed 'cos he grazed the boys in the barracks a bit an' it hurt like fuck. I were so fuckin' angry that I done what I does t'me cousin Billy (the mental special needs one) an' picks him up off the ground an' gives him a fuckin' WWF bodyslam, right on the fuckin' concrete.
Now, when I does that t'Billy it's usually on grass or the carpet in me livin' room 'cos I don't want t'give him worse braindamage, mate, but this time it were on the fuckin' street. Honestly, I in't never heard even them mad birds y'see tryin' t'start fights outside nightclubs scream that loud. He were screamin' so loud that everyone on the fuckin' street stops an' starts watchin'! I were right fuckin' embarrassed, mate, 'cos this twat is throwin' a wobbler an' thrashin' around. His mates are all just standin' there like a bunch o'students what's found out there in't gonna be no Glastonbury this year, they looked like they was about t'start fuckin' cryin'.