So here's the deal Danny Boy; you play games, I play games, we play games with the same people. We're going to run into each other again, for sure. And what's going to happen when that happens?

Well, that's really up to you. Assuming you've learned your lesson, you'll put up and shut up and everything will go fine like wine. But, if you're even more of an idiot than I think you are, you're going to try to stand up to me again; and let me tell you Danny Boy, next time you won't get off so easily. The fact that you shat your pants the moment I grabbed your fat coated neck and the fact that we were surrounded by at least a dozen people saved your fat, worthless ass from getting knocked to the ground and having your skull pummeled by yours truly.

Honestly, you can't back up ANYTHING you say to or about me. I'm better than you at GG (get back to me about a money match once you learn to FRC Potbuster you fucking scrub) and I'm better than you at real life. What do you have left to stand on? NOTHING. I mean, I guess you can try to coerce me into money matches in games I don't play (and never have nor will). Or, failing that, you can try to slap me lighter than a ten year old would again, then proceed to write yet another check with your mouth that your ass can't cash.

If you haven't noticed, I'm 6'2" 200lbs and damn good looking if I do say so myself. You, on the other hand, are a pudgy little shitstain who always looks like he just had a stroke. Needless to say, if we were to ever get in an actual fight, I would absolutely destroy you and look drop dead gorgeous doing it. Now keep that in mind the next time we make meatspace contact, capiche?

Oh? What's with the look on your face, Danny Boy? What were you expecting? An apology? You thought that everyone would just take your hard ass act as anything more than a bad joke? You thought you could actually take me on in a fight? Is your whole world crumbling all around you? Are you just now realizing that you're an awkward, obnoxious, moronic manchild that nobody can stand being around? Is this just now settling in to that thick head of yours?

You can try to come back at me, but you won't. You won't because I'm better than you and you know it, Danny Boy. I know you don't want to admit it. That's fine. You can enjoy life as you are, I'm sure; as a "confrontational" person who tucks his cunt between his legs once the heat is on him, as a shitty fighting game player who gets salty when people call him out on being shitty, as a faggot who fellates the cocks of renown players in a desperate attempt to gain some status, as someone who fails at everything he does.

And all the while, you can keep talking shit about me behind my back all you want. No, really, I don't mind. I don't talk shit about you to anyone, and if you don't believe me you can ask around. I only talk about you when you talk about me. I don't even think about your disgusting, fat ass until you shove it in my face. That's how higher people deal with lower people, you see; we have too much on our minds to be bothered with the concerns of plebs such as yourself.

But just because I don't talk shit about you behind your back doesn't mean that other people don't. Oh man, if you only heard what Brett said about your SF skills last time he was at my house. I guess you couldn't be friends with him anymore if you did! That's just too bad, isn't it? Let's not even get in to what everyone else thinks of you but won't say to your face. If I told you all of that, well golly, you just might not have any friends left!

So get mad, Danny Boy. Get as mad as you want. Because at the end of the day, I win and you lose and that's all there is to it. You're either gonna hold that L with dignity or you're gonna make an ass of yourself yet again and pay dearly for it. The choice is yours.