like i said few sites before, even when he lost, chance will be very high he will say he won... he will talk a little bit about few small damages on himself to make it more believable but at least it will always sound like he maybe lost as long as he won't give us a video or so about the fight.

The OP (Cake) is a lie!

So what have we learned from this big mess?

Has anybody tried checking Google News for anything about a fat kid killing a scrawny punk?

It's Saturday night they likely all got drunk threw a couple punches became best friends then past out, I'll be waiting for the update in the morning.

or maybe he's celebrate his win until now! :)

Press

X, O,█, ▲, ▲, ▲, █ X, O, █, █, O, ▲, X

or

A, B, X, Y, Y, Y, X, A, B, X, X, O, Y, A

Should be right. 

As the update in the title implies, the fight did not turn out as planned. No, I did not die, nor was I permanently injured. I don't know if there was a clear winner or loser in this fight. I'll explain it below to the best of my ability, everything happened so fast.

A few hours before the fight, I drank an entire five-hour-energy tube (an energy drink). I'm not sure if I should have done this as it got my adrenaline pumping far too early and by the time of the fight, I was already tired.

We met at an parking lot hidden from public with a group of about six friends (we have the same friends)

Now for the fight. This was my first fist fight against someone my size or bigger, so I was really nervous. I couldn't remember any of the tactics that I read on here. I really didn't have much of a plan. My brain was so cluttered and my body seemed out of control. My legs were shaking and I felt like I was going to pass out but I had to push forward; I had already come so far.

The only thing I remembered was to go for kicks and keep your hands up. So I attacked first and went in for a kick. Bad idea. The kick was way over-extended and extremely telegraphed. I think I damaged my hamstring muscle with that motion. Anyway, I kicked him directly in the chest and he was barely phased. I could tell the kick was weak. It was nothing like I practised over the past few days; it felt like I had no control over my limbs.

After that kick, my hands dropped immediately. (I'm such a horrible fighter). He threw a few punches as I stepped backwards out of danger (hands still down). At this point, I had no idea what to do. As my brain was in the process of deciding what to do, I found my self at the wrong end of a punch to the cheek. I don't know how he did it, but this guy then managed to leap from out of punching range to tackling range within a second. This fat guy was fast! I then found myself under him as he tried to secure his position. Fortunately, I was always good at scrambling from under people (my older cousins used to wrestle me a lot) so I was able to improve my position a little and tried to stand up.

As I was in the transition to stand up, he put me in a headlock and tried to crush my head. Luckily, his flabby body acted as a cushion for my skull. Then, I guess my inner martial artist came out. I somehow extended my leg forward, wrapped it around his leg, and tripped him to the ground. I was on top of him but I was still in the headlock. So I just started punching at his face and he eventually let my head go.

This led to what felt like a few minutes of exhausting scrambling and wrestling for position on the ground. Very few punches were thrown during this time. I've never been so tired in my life. I wanted to just walk away.

Eventually we both stood up and looked at each other, both of us completely exhausted. I guess this was like a mutual resting time for us. My arms and legs felt like noodles. We stared each other down for a good ten seconds. I thought he had to be more tired than I, so I went in for a flurry of attacks. They were all on point right to the face, but they were weak! I knew my arms were tired but I wasn't expecting him to just eat my punches at will. I punched him about four or five times in a row before he hit me one good time and made me stumble. Surprisingly, he didn't pursue me as I stumbled back. At this point, we were a fair distance apart and neither of us tried to continue the fight. I think both of us wanted to end the fight right there, I know I did. This is when it got really awkward. We just looked at each other. We both looked like bitches.

Obviously not wanting to fight anymore, he was like "you gonna say sorry?". I was like "you gonna say sorry?". Then he was like "you called me fat". And this 'argument' continued for about two minutes combined with some weak shoves and grabs. Eventually the argument changed to "don't call me fat anymore", "don't call me assface anymore","as long as you don't call me fat",etc. While the argument was going on, he picked up his items from his friend and it looked like the fight was over. I was happy. I didn't want to fight anymore.

Post-fight feelings were terrible. When I sat down, my legs were still shaking and my lower back became really sore and stiff after so much heavy lifting. As I caught my breath, my face started to hurt more and more. He had only got in two clean punches but those were some powerful blows. My cheek felt like it had a dent in it. I just wanted to go home and relax (which is what I did). I feel like such a failure to you guys. I didn't lose, but I certainly didn't win either.

I think I should have listened to those who told me not to fight. My cheek stil hurts and I gotta feeling my back is going to hurt even more tomorrow. Writing about it now does make me feel a little better though.

I don't think I'll ever get into a fight again. :(

What I learned from this:
- Fighting is exhausting
- No one really wants to fight someone their size or bigger
- When fighting, you are going to forget any plan you set
- Fighting is not fun
- I suck at fighting

So wait...this whole thing started because you called him fat and he called you assface? Da fuck?

Glad you are okay though :]

Wow, you totally deserved it. This was completely avoidable.
Any videos though?