The Sh*t is Afraid of the Fan at Fernbrook Resort Freelton

The Sh*t is Afraid of the Fan at Fernbrook Resort Freelton

　

This is one of those chance overheard conversations that could have been plucked right from a movie script. Literally.

　

"…I know it’s you that’s doing it… and you better stop it. Right f*ucking now."

"Stop what?"

"Look… You know exactly what. Every body here knows that you’re the one that’s doing it. Do I look like a f**kin idiot to you? Because I know. What are you smiling at?"

"Well I can’t really stop doing something when I don’t know what it is that I’ve been doing."

"Listen you f*ckin smart*ss… the next time I read one more f*cking thing I’m going to come over there and kick the living sh*t out of you. You won’t know what f*cking hit you. And then I’ll cart your f*ckin ass out of here for good."

"I accept your challenge."

LONG PAUSE

"What smart*ss?"

"To a fight. You’re challenging me to a fight and I accept."

"Oh… I..."

"Do you have any martial arts training?"

PAUSE

"Do I what?"

"I just want to make sure that it’s a fair fight."

"Well… ummm… you can’t fight at Fernbrook smart*ss."

"Oh I know that, I just figured that we could walk out to the Concession. It’s public…"

"Well I can’t do it there either."

"Well if you can’t fight on Fernbrook or off it then..."

"Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?

"I’d like what… ? Oh, I got ya... You’re one of those guys that’s so tough that you can win a fight just by talking loud. You’re probably so tough that you eat pieces of sh*t like me for breakfast."

"I could eat ten fucking pieces of sh*t like you for breakfast. And I would enjoy every minute of it."

　

You can probably guess what movie this conversation bears a striking resemblance to. And I get the impression that at least one of the conversation’s two participants knew as well.