Brett Bradley



Listen, buddy, you’ve been pissing me off all night. I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m getting sick of your shit. So enough talk. Let’s do this. Let’s go outside and settle this like emotionally stunted men.


Forget the bouncers. Forget our friends. It’s just gonna be you, me, and our fragile egos that render us incapable of dealing with conflict in a socially responsible manner.

Let’s go, asshole. You’re about ready to see I’m not the kind of guy who just sits back and handles grievances constructively. If you think I’m some pussy who has enough self-esteem to let an insult roll off his back, you’ve got another thing coming. So let’s refuse to calm down or back off and instead allow this situation to spin out of control like the developmentally arrested little boys we effectively are. That is, unless you’re not man enough by the criteria of my very limited and damaging conception of manhood.


Come on, motherfucker. I’m not afraid of you or anything else, with the exception of allowing myself to be open and vulnerable with another human being.

If you don’t get out of my face in the next three seconds I’ll beat you down the same way I’ve beaten down every genuine emotion I’ve ever experienced until the only feeling I’m still able to express is rage. You picked the wrong broken, emotionally insecure guy to mess with tonight, and I think it’s time for a throwdown between your toxic ideas of masculinity and mine.


What the fuck did you just say? Nobody talks to me that way, or in any other way that would challenge my fragile conception of self. What the hell is your problem, man? If it’s the fact that you’re also unable to channel the bare minimum of empathy necessary to resolve this conflict without violence, then you’re in luck, pal.

We can just step out into the parking lot and settle this man to man to inner child still starved for the approval and affection of his distant father.


Oh, it’s on now, you sonofabitch. Tonight, you dredged up a lifetime’s worth of inadequacies that have repeatedly sabotaged my chances of developing into a mature adult, and because I have no other way of dealing with that frustration, you’re about to get your fuckin’ ass kicked. Hell, I’ll even take on your friends, as long as it allows me to continue avoiding a serious examination of the roots of my own anger.

Unless you’ve got a better idea, tough guy.