Mr Coward's Punch

Derryn’s mission in life is to prove that he doesn’t take it up the arse through the art of punching blokes in the back of the head. You dont know who you are fucking with, son - mostly because you never actually see his manly fist coming. One too many Jack fueled UFC pay-per-views have left Derryn thinking he is the leader of the pack, in reality he is just a feral dog that that needs the muzzle of incarceration to be applied swiftly.

It’s Sunday afternoon and Derryn is dressed in the official clobber of the cunt who doesn’t like to be looked at: Tapout shirt, Unit boardies and a chunky silver chain. He rubs his freshly shaved head as he sits at the Old Bailey slamming back pints and looking staunch. He doesn’t see a bar, he sees an Octagaon cage filled with pusseys, faggots and cunts who dont wanna mess with him. “Oi, ‘nother pint” he barks at the bar tender.

It’s busy and some gentle bloke wearing glasses gets bumped into Lord Derryn. The man’s inherent weakness and small stature fills Derryn with the rage of a thousand steroid shrunken ball sacks whirling around in a meth tornado. Unreasonably, Derryn chooses to shove the man off him, “watch it faggot!” A smiley good bloke steps in and tries to defuse the situation, “he was bumped mate, no trouble, it’s all good”. Derryn mulls his options over: to cunt or not to cunt, that is the question: naturally, he rebutts the smiley man’s explanation with a swift chip to the side of his head. Derryn bravely flees the scene without checking on his defeated opponent.

This epic smash has left Derryn feeling like Floyd May-wanker and he heads to his mates house to brag and smoke gear. So much testosterone flies around as Derryn describes how he “dropped him” while giving a full re-enactment. He is marching around his mates backyard like Donkey Kong after he nailed Mario with a barrel of masculinity. “Mess with me, you’ll be eating through a fucking straw lad!” The moronic chorus of man-cheers fills the shed.

Later that night, Derryn is looping hard on the gear and sits at his mates computer commenting on the Facebook page, “Perth Fights”. He alternates between racial abuse and calling people out, “you fight like a fkn pussey fgt, wait till I see u”.

Wow… we were all wondering how much braver you could get today Derryn, you sure showed us you prehistoric dickbag!