Attention.

An amateur MMA ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ asks you to engage in aggressive altercation.

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥.

Bopped you so bad in the bean you were beyond ass-backwards. No blood, albeit bloody brutal.

Clunk.

Clocked your carriage, clipped your canopy, caught your conscious with a carefully concocted
combative cuffing.

Dink.

Decked you defiantly.

Easy.

Ended you efficiently.

♥♥♥♥♥♥'

♥♥♥♥♥♥ your face up from front to Finland in a fairly unfair fashion unfortunately for females.

Goof.

So you got up, gathered your goods, guts and gonads, got after the goofy goon, gave glory a good go.

Have at 'er.

Hucked a haymaker.

Instantly.

Irked the idiot.

Jackass.

Out-juked the jerk. Out-jabbed the joker. Out-jammed the juice head.

K.

King Kong threw a karate kick that kinda caught you in the kisser.

Loser.

But that legend lady luck was lingering and you left you with only a lovely little lump on your lip.

Mint.

But maybe mention you may use MMA, Mr. Muay Thai.

Nincompoop.

Knees are unnecessary.

Over it.

Okay, onwards.

Please.

You out-punched the prick. Out-played the peasant. Pushed proper pugnacity on the pinhead, left him praying for peace while Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers.

Quickly.

He got queasy, wanted to quit, folks were quoted as quietly quipping he looked like a quirky, quackish queen on Quaaludes.

Right.

Roughed up the rook. Wrecked his reality. Ruined his rep.

Superb.

You socked the sucker. Slammed the sally. Secured the scuffle by successfully out-scrapping the skirt.

Tremendous.

You took over the tiff. Out-tangoed the tosser. Tough titties on that trade, you twit. No truce.

Unreal.

Utterly.

Violent.

Very.

Wonderful.

Well, whatever

Exceptional.

Exactly.

Yup.

Yup.

Zebra?

Zip it.