"STAY fucking down," the old guy was screaming as he kicked fuck out of the young guy's skull. Then the young guy was unsteadily clambering to his feet again to be met with another series of astonishingly forceful blows.
"Stay down ya daft wee cunt!" the old guy was roaring. The pavement was wet with maroon gore. The young guy didn't get up again for some time and then it was with the help of ambulance attendants.

"And you ya cunt! Ah'll pumch yer fuckin' cunt in ya fuckin' alky cunt," he snarled, surging forward determinedly. The old guy was clearly scared and then in some amount of distress as the first of the blows landed.

Jonathan Marks, an unliked cunt, sat drinking alone in an old town pub. He was seated in the upstairs section which was vacant of any other bodies. A yen for solitary escape had driven him here. He felt the urge to deactivate a certain notion of himself.