So I met DFF. I was at a crowded nightclub where women were swooning all over my rock hard biceps and running their hands over my chiseled abs, plus they loved the fact that I am liberal. I was making good progress with a pair of smoke show models and their dance instructor, we were going to their place for a hot tub when things got a little rowdy. A sniveling skinny fat man with a pot belly and MAGA hat was on his second Coors lite and being the lightweight that he was, he had clearly exceeded his limit. He was rabbit-punching people in the back then turning away like a little punk.
Things escalated quickly as some of the patrons began to mix it up on their own accord. Then this DFF was discovered by the waitress who was escorted him out of the bar. She had a firm grasp of his earlobe. He was squealing like a puppy dog who had been hit by a car, it was a horrible racket.
But when he swung wildly and clipped her, that was too much. The crowd erupted into a scuffle, and DFF tried to sneak away. However, the bouncers were slow to make their way over and I felt like DFF needed a good talking to, so I grabbed him by his bony shoulders and shoved him to the back of the bar and into the bathroom.
Now I was already excited by the possibility of bedding the two models and their dance instructor, and pissed that I was missing out on this opportunity, So I really started to give him a piece of my mind., But DFF was incapable of forming a grammatically correct response. He weakly swung at me a couple of times, it was like an 8-year-old boy trying to hit a 'roided up NFL lineman. It wasn't going to happen. After playing patty cake for a little while he tried to kick me in the groin, but I expected this move because I know dirty little skunks when I see 'em, so I grabbed him in a reverse standing choke hold until he calmed down.
He started blubbering about not being able to get any dates, that this wasn't fair because Trump was MAGA, and that he posted on Letsrun as an outlet for his puerile frustrations aggravated from living in his mother's basement at 44 years of age. I was starting to feel sorry for him, but he again tried in vain to struggle free. So I grabbed his wrist and twisted, while he howled in pain.
I noticed that I was starting to get aroused. "Stop being such a baby" I said. "You're the baby! Hillary-Obama waah-waah-waah Cuck Libbbtards!. MAGA MAGA!" he shrieked back unintelligibly like an expiring rodent. Now as an MMA fighter I have very large thighs, and since I also like bodybuilding and Crossfit I am happiest when I oil them up. "Do these thighs look childish to you, DFF?"
I could see his eyes widen in alarm, and since I was already in a heightened sense of anticipation, I felt a throbbing blue veiner coming on. When I told him to apologize to the establishment and leave or else, he kept struggling and spitting out childish epithets. So I realized that DFF was unsalvagable and really needed to be taught a deep and painful lesson. I needed to rebuild him from scratch. So I yanked down his trousers, and prepared to plunder him. At first he struggled and whimpered but then he eventually started to moan ecstatically and move in rhythm to my pornographic thrusts. By the time the manager had walked in on us I had taken him to new heights.
This is why he is so enraged now, and for that I am sorry. He's just a confused boy, that's all, a 44-year-old boy.