Street fight threads

[Logan Cook]

I posted this a while back so i am just going to copy and paste the story; please forgive me if the story is written in a slightly different context from the topic of this thread but it's still fairly relevant. I promise this is true by the way although I don't forsee anyone questioning it's authenticity after they read it.


I was a freshman in college and surprise, surprise, shit faced. A few days prior to this incident I fucked this girl who lived in the apartment below mine who could only be described as, and I mean this in the most polite and respectful way possible, a raging slut. It was a Friday night and a ton of the people who lived in the nearby apartments were hanging out in this grassy area, we'll just call it the grassy knoll for entertainment purposes, between the student apartment buildings. One of these delightful young adults was an openly and flamboyantly gay young man who took a lot of pleasure in announcing to everyone who was in ear shot that I was plowing this notoriously slutty six with nice boobs named Trista. Mind you there were tons of way hotter girls around than her and this dick head was totally blowing my chances with any of them who didn't already have herpes. Being young, stupid, immature, embarrassed, sloshed, and probably a tad bit homophobic I approached this fellow calling him every derogatory name in the book in a childish attempt to save face. At this point our antics had drawn quite a crowd. Not wishing to be further humiliated in front of my peers and potential human fleshlights I opened the physical portion of this confrotation with my go-to move at the time, the two handed chest shove. He responded in turn sending me flying several feet backwards due to the fact that I weighed around 150 at the time while this gentlemen was probably well north of 200 lbs and a few inches taller than me. The size difference mattered little to me at the time for I was under the assumption that my pention for pussy alone was enough to overcome anything a 220 lb homosexual could bring to the table. With a head full of whisky and right hand backed up by 18 years of societal programming assuring me that gays were sissys and fights always end quickly and in favor for the heterosexual with his haymakers I planted my feet and uncorked the biggest right hand my retarded being could muster. To my sheer unadulterated horror my punch landed on nothing but palpable waves of existential terror and broken dreams. *The gay guy then bear hugged me, and wrestled me to the ground. Thankfully, for my sake, he decided to forgo the raping in favor of sissy punches to the back of my head. *My friends quickly pulled him off of me before he had a chance to kick my head in or reconsider forcefully penetrating me. At that moment I'm not sure which would have been worse or more humiliating. To be honest I would have probably welcomed my skull being cracked just to put me out of the soul crushing misery that immediately washed over me the second that my big haymaker landed on nothing but air and the roaring laughter of people who I had only recently met and wished desperately to impress. I was so bummed out after this incident that I scarcely came out of my room for the rest of the semester; after which I dropped out (for more reasons than this but this certainly didn't help). That incident taught me a few very hard lessons. Don't pick fights with people, always be nice, don't bang sluts unless you can handle the consequences, and never put yourself into a situation where you're relying on skills you're only under the assumption that you have.

[Kyl modra]

Hey WARRIORS come out and play....

One night at an all gangs meeting, the leader of the Riffs, Cyrus, makes a speech and creates a plan to unite all the gangs of the city. One gang strong enough to overpower the police. But suddenly he is shot and a gang called The Warriors are framed by Luther, leader of the Rogues. Now they have to return to Coney Island, escaping from 20,000 policemen and 100,000 sworn enemies.

[David Stager]

Back when I was a JTAC in the United States Air Force Tactical Air Control Party, I left my country and family to enter the World Warrior tournament to avenge the death of my friend Charlie, who was killed by M. Bison, the tournament's sponsor. In the end, I defeated Bison, but was dissuaded from killing him by my wife and daughter.

[Jon. A]

Except for warriors and street fighter lol

[Kyle Spalla]

Most of my fights end by Shoryuken.

[Kyle Spalla]

Back when I was a JTAC in the United States Air Force Tactical Air Control Party, I left my country and family to enter the World Warrior tournament to avenge the death of my friend Charlie, who was killed by M. Bison, the tournament's sponsor. In the end, I defeated Bison, but was dissuaded from killing him by my wife and daughter.

Most of his fights end by Sonic Boom.

[AndyK5]

I wish I had Muay-Thai like Sagat....and was like 6-11 or something. I guess if Stevan Struve works on his standup for about 20 years non stop, gets a solid tan, puts on 60 pounds of muscle, and then has Lyoto Machida put on a massive scar on his chest with an uppercut, we could have someone who would resemble Sagat in the UFC.

[Mark Hax]

Fought my dad once, but I was mad and looking for him. I think it was Gatlinburg in mid-July I had just hit town and my throat was dry, so I thought I'd stop and have myself a brew... Well, I stepped into an old saloon and found him dealing stud poker. I only recognized him from a scar on his cheek and his evil eye. Well, I punched him between the eyes and I busted a chair across his teeth after he came up with a knife and cut off a piece of my ear. We crashed through a wall in into the street, kicking and gouging in the mud and the blood and the beer. It ended well, I came away with a different point of view, but I still hate the name he gave me.

[Michael Sioda]

For those who don't know. Not all street fights have to take place in an actual street. Master Ken explains...

[Logan Cook]

Fought my dad once, but I was mad and looking for him. I think it was Gatlinburg in mid-July I had just hit town and my throat was dry, so I thought I'd stop and have myself a brew... Well, I stepped into an old saloon and found him dealing stud poker. I only recognized him from a scar on his cheek and his evil eye. Well, I punched him between the eyes and I busted a chair across his teeth after he came up with a knife and cut off a piece of my ear. We crashed through a wall in into the street, kicking and gouging in the mud and the blood and the beer. It ended well, I came away with a different point of view, but I still hate the name he gave me.

You win!