What up homies, how are ya'll? A real thug has gotta know how to trash talk when things get heated, you know what I'm saying?
3...2....1.... Kick it:
Two heavy middle weight mixed martial artists have their arms interlocked, foreheads a few inches apart and fixed in a power stance. It's an intense stare down leading up to the ring in the pre-fight hype after their weigh-in.
Clint: I want to rip your heart out and then eat it with my ferocity.
Brock: My knuckles and your face are the perfect star-crossed lovers for a romantic tragedy.
Clint: You can only be identified by your dental records after I'm through with you.
Brock: You're so lady like.
Clint: Hey, that's not nice. That cut me real deep, man. Whitney dumped me a week ago because she said I wasn't man enough.
Brock: I feel the same way too. My old man always tells me I have to toughen up because I'm a sissy to him.
Clint: I feel you, man. I get judged just because I wear a skirt. I just like the breezy feel between my legs, it makes my heart skip a little.
Brock: I know that feeling! Sometimes I just like to wear red lipstick when I sip on my wine glass because it makes me feel sophisticated.
Clint: Oh wow, that is something. When I wait in the rain, I like to pose in a way that accentuates my curves because I like to flaunt my sexuality.
Brock: Well I was born as a lady, actually.
Clint: No just stop it. There's no way you're more of a lady than I am. Your shoulders are too broad.
Brock: Excusez moi? You're the one with the Brad Pitt chiseled jaw line here.
Clint: What honey? Don't talk to me like that Prince Charming, you seem like the dark and tall handsome man straight out of a fairy tale.
Brock: Shut your mouth you ruggedly good looking man with an overly sculpted muscular build.
They then proceed to french kiss in front of the sports press and their sponsors.