It Turns Out Not All Big British Dudes Can Fight Like Tyson Fury
Being big is already a form of intimidation. You’ve had a target on your back the second your spine stretched longer than everyone else’s. Everyone wants to take out the big guy. So you can play it one of two ways: you can be the aggressor who is about that life or the giant teddy bear who would rather not. You really can’t be both. There’s a reason I try to be funny on the internet, you know? Buddy in the red’s first problem was that he tried to be the aggressor hoping that would be enough to intimidate his neighbor. Oddly enough, he was right. Black did not want to fight in the slightest.
The guy who doesn’t want to fight is 50% of the time a roll of Charmin, 50% of the time John Wick. Big Red already proved his point, black was ready to just go home to his wife and pup. There was a moment there if ol’ fog brain just took his ass back to apartment 10, he would still be able to stand up for multiple consecutive seconds. Such is life, that is no longer the case.
Buddy from apartment 12 is home, wearing a new faded shirt ready to be torn via combat, and his wife is still telling the operator every piece of gossip she has on Big Red’s entire existence. That was the real beatdown here, the amount of shit she dumped on Red 10’s life, family’s life, medical history, drug and alcohol dependency, just an absolute viper in the weeds. You run into this couple at the Beans On Toast Faire in the London suburbs you best mind your Ps and Qs.