Fist-a-Cuffs
Our fighting techniques were polished in high school at house parties, The Palace, Big Rock, The Valley, O'Hara/Boner hockey games, and countless other events. Every time there was more than one school in the same vicinity, fist-a-cuffs was the undeniable outcome. And for good reason. That other school is full of pussies.
How did these fights start? Some damn fine trash talking, of course. Nobody in the world talks better trash than a Delco boy.
Talk about my mom? Well I fucked yours, and your sister, and your girlfriend too. Wanna see her number? I got it right here. I'll beat your ass, fuck your girl, cum in her hair, and fuck her again tomorrow, bitch.
Didn't we kick your ass in football this year? Well, actually, we kicked your team's ass. You were sitting on the sideline giving the actual players hand jobs on the bench as they got carted off the feild.
This goes back and forth for a minute or so until somebody throws the first punch. And we all know that these fights rarely ever end up a one-on-one affair. It could be anything from a crew on crew battle royale to a 15 on 2 beat down. Both will include Timbs to the skull for some unfortunate soul.
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We are trained like Spartan warriors to always be ready, always be on guard, and never back down from a fight, big or small. This is not to say that we are good at fighting in any way. Mainly due to the fact that we are cocked drunk when 99.9% of these fights go down. In no way are we in any kind of shape to wipe our own ass, let alone fight another human being. But we do it anyway. Often times alone, against more than one person. For those of you who have never witnessed this kind of mayhem, let me lay out a scenario for you. (This may or may not be a true story)
You get kicked out of the bar. Apparently this establishment doesn't keep its urinals up against the bar as you had imagined. Go figure. So you get shown the door, but before you leave, you ask the bouncer "What gym do you go to?" and "Are your muscles all the rave in the men's shower?" He does not appreciate your sarcastic remarks and tosses you onto the cold pavement. You brush yourself off and begin your march to the next watering hole.
As your heading down the road you notice a group of about 7 gentlemen across the street, snickering and looking in your general direction. Well, let's see what this is all about.
"What's up guys? You talking to me?" Giving your best Taxi Driver impression.
They begin to answer, but their words are muffled by your anger as you gaze at their chest and see a Pittsburgh Penguins logo on their shirts. No fucking way! I'm not about to be laughed at by a bunch of Pittsburgh jabronies!
"Alright listen here you cock suckers..." What comes out of your mouth next doesn't matter for two reasons: #1 because it most likely will make little to no sense, and #2 it is going to be followed by a haymaker to the biggest guy in their crew. So the chit-chat is ending here anyway.
The haymaker is thrown. You catch him on the side of the neck, a good 7 inches from where you were aiming. Those mind erasers might as well be Pittsburgh fans too, because they are contributing to your inevitable ass beating just the same.
After your first punch, rarely will you ever get another shot in this scenario. You swing your arms blindly as you are trounced with blows from 7 infuriated Penguin fuckers. This is where the training kicks in. Fetal position, head covered, jewels cupped so as not to get stomped. As you think to yourself "Thank goodness these Pitt pussies don't wear Timbs." you get a Walmart brand steel-toed boot to the dome, which, as you could imagine, is much worse. Fucking hicks!
You peer through the parade of kicks across the street and see the bouncer that kicked you out standing idly, watching in pleasure. You know for certain he will be laughing about this after the gym tomorrow as he showers with his homosexual partner.
The Pitt folk finally take mercy on you, asking if you have had enough. Not a chance. You tell them that your mother hits harder than they do(which is true) and that they have another thing coming if they think they're out of the woods. As they come back to for round 2, a few kind souls that have seen enough come and prevent them from inflicting any actual damage. Lucky for them, you were just about to get going.
You stand your ground and make sure they walk away first, this way you can tell all of your friends that you won the fight. This plan is foiled when you realize that you butt-dialed your x-girlfriend, and she has been so kind to present the voice mail of you getting your ass kicked to all of your friends.
Ah, well. It wasn't the first time, and it sure al hell won't be the last. Because if there something else that Delco men don't do well...it's learn a lesson.
-Dr. Funkenstein