Tough

So, you want me to take the cuffs off so we can see who the real tough guy is huh? Fortunately, I think there’s already enough evidence to reason this one out. I’ll explain.

After you slapped a girl around we came to your house to say hi and you ran out the back door. That wasn’t exactly a tough guy move.

You hopped a fence and I found you hiding in your neighbor’s back yard after I successfully thwarted your pitbull’s attempt to protect you. It’s not looking good for you so far.

I grabbed you by your arm, shoved you against the fence, put your arm behind your back, and tried my best to make your hand touch the back of your neck. That’s when I found out you’re five inches taller than me, and at least 60 pounds heavier. You made noises I’ve never heard come out of a tough guy.

My partner cuffed you and you started calling us names. That wasn’t very tough guy like.

About ten minutes later I decided to fix the cuffs, since they were put on pretty quickly, and they didn’t exactly look comfortable. I took your left hand completely out of the cuffs and you didn’t so much as flinch. Stay with me, we’re almost there.

I put the cuffs back on and you started calling me names again. I think that settles it.

I win. I’m the tough guy. Don’t worry, you’ll have another chance to be the tough guy when they take the cuffs off at the jail. I’m pretty sure I know how that’s gonna go too.

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