Chrononaut said
wot the fok did ye just say m8? i dropped out of newcastle primary skool im the sickest bloke ull ever meet & ive nicked 300 candy bars from tha corner store. im trained in street fitin’ & im the strongest foker in tha entire newcastle gym. yer nothin to me but a cheeky lil dickhead w/ a hot mum & fake bling. ill waste u and smash a fokin bottle oer yer head bruv, i swer 2 christ. ya think u can fokin run ya gabber at me whilst sittin on yer arse behind a lil screen? think again wanka. im callin me homeboys rite now preparin for a proper rumble. tha rumble thatll make ur nan sore jus hearin about it. yer a waste bruv. my homeboys be all over tha place & ill beat ya to a proper fokin pulp with me fists wanka. if i aint satisfied w/ that ill borrow me m8s cricket paddle & see if that gets u the fok out o’ newcastle ya daft kunt. if ye had seen this bloody fokin mess commin ye might a’ kept ya gabber from runnin. but it seems yer a stewpid lil twat, innit? ima shite fury & ull drown in it m8. ur in proper mess ya knobhead *Useless badass motherfuckery exposition*
Anyway, Gadget, it might help with a few small edits on your part as described by Kiddo. At the moment, as it stands, he and I are slightly plot locked / unable to really do much. We have both your character and a particularly large Orc approaching us at (what I can only assume to be) the same time without us seeing them off in the distance, one nearly ready to sucker punch me with an axe, and the other ready to longsword me in the face if I make a sudden movement.
I was so not prepared for this :P