…with one hand tied behind my back.
“When I hear you talk about taking a swing and taking punches, why do I get the feeling you have never actually taken a punch, or thrown a punch.
Well, you are legendarily clueless, Lawrence. What I know is that foes who only throw punches can be defeated with contemptuous ease. So….please…when we fight, do box at me instead of doing this or this.
I didn’t have that luxury in the part of Boston I grew up in. But in your rich, suburban, Boston life, with your father filling a $100 million trust fund for you. I don’t know, I just get the feeling things were kind of different for you.”
Yeah, Larry, you’re a real product of Boston’s mean streets. Tuition at your private school is a paltry $35,000 per year! That’s a bit more than my Dad made as an itenerant minister while supporting a family of five. My privileged youth was spent in the rural South as a four-eyed bookworm preacher’s son. My spending money came from working tobacco and hauling hay and tacking hides in a tannery.
Whereas you, Larry, had it tough.
I freely admit: I’ve only been in a few dozen serious fights in my life. And only one of those was against multiple opponents! Of course I also spent a few thousand hours wrestling and fighting a younger brother whose reflexes were those of an amphetamine-crazed mongoose.
But then, who didn’t?
Big guy, for realz: I’d beat you so easily I wouldn’t even have to hurt you. In fact, sometimes I did beat bullies so painlessly they’d later forget the outcome and force me to remind them.
But that mistake hasn’t been made in three decades.
That’s why, Larry, I want to fight you with one hand. If you’re as good a fighter as you think, I’ll have to inflict serious damage upon your miserable corpus. If you’re as good as I think, I won’t have to. But note that an injury-free fight isn’t on the table. Because, full disclosure: I have yearned to beat the holy living crap out of you ever since you disrespected a goddess.
(Not that you won that exchange, either. Heh heh. You’re such a putz.)
So let’s have at it, O’Donnell. No-holds-barred combat, anytime, anywhere, and I insist you kill me if you can. Plus you get to select my Combat Mode: 1) I use two hands and damage only your pride, 2) I fight one-handed and break or dislocate various parts of your body. Or even 3)
On second thought, ‘twould be a silly bout.
I pray this challenge reaches you in good health, Larry. It would be less fun beating you up otherwise. Of course we will never actually fight, as you are a cowardly bully and would never dare to face me. But should I be wrong, should some faint trace of manhood remain underneath all that ridiculous bluster…let me know.