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This is a question FIGHT!

Dr Preference wants to hear your stories about fighting. Ever started a fight? Ever seen a spectacular bar brawl? Or did you hide in a kebab shop when chased by West Ham football hoolies? The first rule of B3ta Fight Club is that you WILL talk about B3ta Fight Club.

(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 11:04)
Pages: Popular, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 21:01, 17 replies)
This one time right, I went into this bar in Mos Eisley right
And my Jedi mate Ben, right, he stuck up for me right, then he cut the baddie's arm off with his light saber!
(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 20:59, Reply)
I honestly don't know why rob doesn't just shut down qotw

(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 20:47, 19 replies)
My mate had a flat above a chippie in the middle of Glasgow.
overlooking a bus stop that served some of the classier 1960s conurbations. One evening between pub and club we were having an intellectual discussion about Irn Bru versus Red Cola and how the English are all cunts when there was a disturbance through the window. From our private box we watched as two of Greater Glasgow's most sophisticated ladies began a scrap over something important. They each held their bag of chips poised in one hand behind their heads and brandished a stiletto heel in the other. Honestly ... if it weren't for the lycra skirts and scabby thighs they'd have looked exactly like Errol Flynn and Basil Rathbone in The Adventures of Robin Hood.
(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 20:33, 5 replies)
The cheeky family opposite me in Birmingham
were apparently well known "down the precinct". One night I heard a lot of effing and blinding coming from the street. On peeping out, the estranged son had come home and was having a slanging match with Dad, sometimes indoors, sometimes outdoors (the front door was almost always left open).

Next thing, he calls Dad a poof or something and the two of them are literally lying in the middle of the street grappling with each other. No more than 30 seconds later, a West Midlands police car comes round the corner and screeches to a halt about a foot from their heads. Two enormous coppers get out and, without a word, grab son and Dad, throw them in the back of the car and drive off. Better than Regan and Carter could have done it.
(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 20:17, Reply)
He wouldn't stay about from my bins.
So I gave him a fucking kicking.
(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 20:03, 2 replies)
(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 19:58, 5 replies)
Well, it was him or me
Queue about 3 or 4 deep when I joined it.
Person at head of queue was about half way through bagging and paying.

Be about 5 - 8 minutes until me. Person behind me a bit too close, nudging me with their basket.
Tum te tum.

2 people in front. Person behind me tuts. I ignore and concentrate.
Tum te... stop nudging me with your... te tum...

1 person in front; I shuffle forward. Person behind me shuffles up practically beside me... I can feel their breath.
I'm sweating. If person behind tries to...

My turn...

I wait to see what they do... I turn and look. He's 70, I could have him. He motions at me to move.
I put groceries in bag, pay and go.

Nerves of steel, that's me.
edit: this really happened
(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 19:51, 1 reply)
Im a 28 yr old B3tan who lives with his parents
What the fuck am I supposed to share?
(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 19:00, 7 replies)
I should have known it was time to leave the party when I overheard
"If you can't take a fuckin joke, then fuck you, you dumb fuckin fuck."
"Yeah, well you're the fuckin fuck."
"Fuck you, who's a fuckin fuck."
"You're the fuckin fuck, that's what you're fuckin are."
"Don't you call me a fuckin duck, you fuckin fuck."
"Who's a duckin fuck."
Et cetera
Et cetera
SFX - Crash through table, projectiles hurled, glass breaking
(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 17:45, 2 replies)
Our Price Records, St.Albans.
In the early 80's my girlfriend was the manager of the above mentioned establishment. After a long boozy lunchtime my mate The Egg and I dropped in to see her and hang out.

The music playing in the shop was always her choice so was probably something like the Wedding Present (have I told you I look like Dave Gedge?). We stumbled 'round the shop for a while looking at new releases.

A big bloke entered the shop and said loudly "Can you put 'Whistle Down The Wind' by Nick Heywood on?"

The Egg took umbrage at this and fuelled by eight pints of Benskins truth serum protested "Nick Heywood? You can fuck right off" As he finished saying this he realised how loudly he had said it and how big and lairy the other bloke and his mate were. The Egg is well over 6 feet tall but doesn't pose a threat pugilisticly.

Naturally I was honour bound to join in although I managed to persuade all protagonists to step outside to prevent the shop getting trashed.

It was just about a score draw as we heard the Police sirens and did a runner. So sadly I didn't have a fight in a record shop but did fight for Wedding Present over Nick Heywood.

Length? 12" black vinyl.
(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 17:31, 3 replies)
I got into an angry exchange on the internet.
I had the last word.

(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 17:26, 3 replies)
I once beheaded a samurai
with my pimp sword.
(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 17:10, 2 replies)
I punched my girlfriend in the face for talking to another guy
that put an end to her supermodel career for a while I can tell you
(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 16:55, 2 replies)
I've never been in a fight on account of not being a massive spasticated shit cunt

(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 16:54, 14 replies)
Shouldn't the question be titled


(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 16:24, 7 replies)
Don't defend when drunk
I converted my garage into a computer suite in 2005 to help with my consultancy work. This tends to lead to working stupid hours. October 2006 at about midnight I heard a scream from outside while debugging some code. My street is a cul-de-sac on the very edge of Leicester. Outside my house sitting on the kerb were 3 young girls. They were 16 years old-ish. As the father of a couple of girls I was a bit concerned and asked them where they were supposed to be that wasn't on my driveway.

At that point 3 lads in their 20s came out from one of the nearby houses. I asked them to not distract the girls from heading back to their sleepover'. They all got very aggressive immediately.

I backed away slowly and dialled 999 on my phone. The transcript is quite interesting to read. 1 against 3 is not an easy option and I stupidly backed down my driveway.

My wife heard what was going on and opened the front door to see 2 guys stomping on my head. When the police arrived I was awake enough to point to the source of my injuries and tney were arrested. I don't recall that bit.

Due to the maxiallory nerve damage, I will be in pain for the rest f my life.

Several months of witness intimidation including a baseball bat to my head couldn't be investigated as it could cause harm to the initial prosecution.

Bitter much?
(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 16:17, 8 replies)
I got in a fight once.
A group of drunk lads came down the street, took a dislike to my face and set about kicking the shit out of me.

There you go. An honest QOTW post. I suspect the truth behind many of these stories is similar to mine.
(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 16:10, 12 replies)
Quick pea
Sometimes you have to act.
A few years back when I was in my early 20s I was walking along the street in my hometown. I happened to notice a little girl skipping along towards me on the other side of the road, she was all pigtails and freckles and smiles and couldn't have been more than 7 or 8. As she skipped towards the entrance to the park 2 lads, clearly several years her elders, emerged from the park and she was unable to avoid them and crashed into one of them.
I stood astonished as the scene unfolded in front of me and these 2 lads started shoving this little girl around. When I saw one of the lads lifting his hand and fully punching the girl in the face I saw red mist descending. I couldn't stand and watch this anymore. I crossed the road and my fists started flailing and boots started swinging. I was like a wildman. I fought with a savagery that I didn't think I had and I have to tell you guys.
Between the 3 of us we totally kicked the crap out of that little girl.
I even got her lollipop.
(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 16:04, Reply)
Don't fight when drunk
Some years ago I was heading home from a quiz night with a friend and my wife. We didn't notice that a car over the road from us was occupied and were laughing and going over the events of the evening. The passenger of the car took umbrage to our merriment and came up behind us yelling all sorts of abuse. The best course of action seemed to be ignoring the drunken idiot so we continued toward out house 200 metres further on. Being ignored was a red rag to this bull and he punched my friend from behind. Spectacles went flying and while my friend was trying to find them, I decided to distract the idiot. A few words turned his attention to me.

I'm not a fighter, but I am very fit so I bounced and dodged his attacks while being watched by my two companions. Eventually the shouts of "Is someone going to call the police please?" actually registered and my 2 companions legged it to a phone (this was the mid 90's and we didn't have mobiles....if we had they'd have been filming it).

The idiot, fuelled by rage actually managed to get a blow in that sort of connected and grazed my cheek about then and started yelling at me to punch him. I duly fulfilled his wish and he went down hard... only to pop back up complaining that he hadn't been ready!

About that time his father, having been alerted by the driver of the car came along and dragged him away. I stood watching to see where they were going so that I could point the police in the right direction should they bother to show.

The idiot broke loose and came charging down the street at me with his right fist held high. I doubt even the world's worst fighter would have stood and waited for that punch so I stepped aside. He plunged through the hedge and went head first into a tree.

I'm not a fighter, but I am a first aider and this was seriously concerning since he wasn't moving. I went through the hedge and was checking his breathing and pulse rate when the father caught up. He assumed I was getting revenge and punched me on the back of the head. I turned around, and while punching him back a few times told him to call an ambulance.

At that point the police turned up.

Several hours of their time went into untangling everything.

No charges were ever brought against anyone who attacked me. The idiot wasn't just drunk, but also drugged. My single punch had broken his jaw. The trip through the bushes had broken his collar bone and removed an ear ring the hard way. At some point in the process he managed to fracture his calf bone too. The father had a black eye and a bloody mess of a nose.

I was advised that a slightly swollen cheek from a graze was possibly not the best demonstration of being attacked and that the father would press charges against *me* if I did the same against his son.

I did take pleasure in taunting them for a while though.
(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 15:47, 5 replies)
Lick boxing
I've done various martial arts on and off since the age of four and was as chuffed as nuts to get my black belt in Chinese kick boxing in December. As you can imagine, it involves a fair bit of the ol' fighting.

At one of our classes I was fighting big Tom. So named because he is called Tom and towers above everyone. It was about half way into the class, and Tom executes a push kick. These are more of a push than a kick, normally done at chest or stomach height to push your opponent back to give you some room to follow up with something. It's a straight kick, but involves you thrusting your hip into it at the end to generate the force to push someone back.

Tom, managed to plant his push kick right in my face. The hip thrust and push tends to drag the foot down when this is done. The sole of his foot slid down my face, dragging down my lower lip down and making it run the full length of his foot.

We'd been training for half an hour in bare feet at this point on a carpet that has 15 years of sweat, vomit and child piss soaked into it. There are some things mints just can't take the taste away from.
(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 15:40, 8 replies)
Skinhead in a kebab shop
Many years ago I decided to give up on cooking for an evening and go out for some local cuisine. Living in Hull at the time this meant a £2.90 Kebab shop pizza. While waiting for it to be cooked the pub next door began the process of chucking out in doing so filling the kebab shop. In stumbles a massive guy complete with #1 haircut and short skirted blonde girlfriend.

After about a minute it dawns on me that he is staring right at me, in the process accidently locking eyes for a moment.

I quickly look away and begin looking at the menu with intent. I glance back and he is still staring right at me. Worse still he begins to come towards me. My heart is racing, having never been in a fight as an adult, waiting for the slurred "What are you looking at?"

After what seems like forever he stares me down and come out with the immortal line

"Excuse me but you have the most piercing green eyes"

What can I say, I guess pants shitting terror really brings them out. He gave me a chip and I mumbled a thanks and hurried home with my pizza.
(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 15:37, 4 replies)
How to get pummelled
Smale's mention of a biker's pub reminds me of an incident I once witnessed. My favourite pub used to be half-taken-over by a local biker gang on a saturday - they would have one bar, all other punters had the other bar. All fine and friendly, and never any trouble.

One day I was sitting in the non-biker side, and I noticed an old git walk in carrying a video camera. This was the 90's, so the camera was one of those large shoulder-mounted jobs. I noticed that it was currently recording, which I thought was a bit odd as he was just carrying it like a briefcase, not looking through the viewfinder.

He headed across our bar and into the biker's side. A minute or so later he returned at a run and headed for the exit, closely pursued by one of the leather-clad fraternity - a bloke who, not coincidentally, happened to be there with a girlfriend who was wearing a short leather skirt.

Attempting to use a video camera the size of a Morris Minor to film up a biker girl's skirt, while her boyfriend is in the room, is apparently a pretty reliable way to start a fight. I have a feeling he wished he'd come with a smaller camera - or at least a jar of vaseline - a few minutes later...
(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 15:10, Reply)
the fights i could never win
my elder sister isn't much of a fighter but, as the oldest of the four of us, she used to get a load of stick off her little brother and sisters. normally, she'd retreat to her room and listen to fleetwood mack, stopping any fight before it got started.
on the rare occasions where she did actually lose her temper badly enough to start fighting, we found it impossible to fight back. not because she was bigger or stronger, but because we'd be creased over, laughing. her fighting style was what i call the windmill: eyes tightly closed, both arms flailing wildly round in circles, tongue stuck out of the corner of the mouth. we couldn't move for laughing!
of course, she always claimed that she'd won the fights. technically, i think she might be right :)
(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 15:09, Reply)
i totally do loads of marital arts and could like totally kill you if i wanted
i dont like to go on about it tho becuz my teaching was to be all humble and respectful and shit but i totally could kill you


like i no moves and stuff and am pretty hard i jus dont like to talk about it because us true ninjas are medita ... mediat ... at one with stuff and shit
(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 14:58, 2 replies)
It was Christmas in 90's Muswell Hill
As was traditional, after my folks fell asleep on the sofa early evening, my buddy Chris and I would attempt to locate an open pub anywhere in the surrounding 5 miles by the time honoured method of "Wandering around with a bag of booze".

Eventually we rocked up at the Old White Lion in east finchley and proceeded to really get into the Christmas Spirit.

As always happens on Christmas the only open pub in the area always attracts anyone out of their homes and so the mix of people is "eclectic".

The posh boys from Highgate, the tendies from muswell hill, the chavs from Finchley..everyone was there.

Whilst we minded our own business four separate fights broke out in one two hour period, the police were called 5-6 times and two ambulances took away glassing victims.

Every single one of the fights were started by the public school boys from Highgate and every single arrest was one of the chavs.

The moral of the story - Put on a posh accent when the police turn up and you can get away with almost anything.
(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 14:51, 1 reply)
I'm no hard man so I get out of fights
I was in a chippy queue post pub kicking out. There was a knuckle dragging moron in front of me I could see him getting increasingly bored with waiting in line. So eventually the inevitable happened his neanderthal brow swung around his piggy eyes fixed on me until I glanced at him "what you looking at?" here we go I thought. Ah well in for a penny ...lets try something

I looked at him a smile playing on my lips "OH MY GOD" I breathed "It's you!"
"Whut?" said thicky
"you're on the telly! don't tell me your name I wanna guess" I started tugging my mates sleeve "hey it's that guy off off that thing...ohhhhHHH It'll come to me" I leaned across the counter and shouted to the chippy guy "can I borrow your marker pen mate?"

I shoved a pen & a napkin under his nose "can I have your autograph?"

He actually signed his name then turned his back on me. His desire to punch me forgotten (which is odd because I was behaving more punchable now than when I was just waiting in line)
(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 14:41, 1 reply)

(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 14:34, 11 replies)

(, Thu 14 Mar 2013, 14:31, Reply)

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