FINAL SIX: THE SIX PEOPLE I WANT & DON’T WANT TO FIGHT

Sometimes, on the subway, I one-by-one size up everyone else in my car, from the heavily tattooed bodybuilder to the tired-looking grandmother with her grocery cart, and think about what would happen if I just ran up and punched them in their stupid fucking face. Sometimes, in these mental battles, things go my way, and the fight ends with me laughing over their broken and bloodied corpse; sometimes, I get overpowered or catch a right hook and spend the rest of the fantasy mopping up mouth salsa from the filthy train floor. Either way, there’s something extremely satisfying about it.

I’m not a fighting guy—I’ve been in a handful of fights in my time, and they were all awkward and stupid—but a good fight is something that cannot be denied. The level to which we deify boxers, wrestlers, and MMA fighters illustrates how much we as humans value strength shown in combat. There are some fights, however, that I’ve always dreamed of—those battles of epic might from two factions, from Frankenstein versus The Wolfman to Hector versus Achilles. So seeing as I’m in a punchy mood and want to fantasize about kicking some epic ass, here is my list of the Six People I Want and Don’t Want To Fight. Put up your dukes.

The Six People I Want to Fight

1) Hitler Beating the teeth out of the most wretched dictator of all time has always been a dream of mine. In fact, I believe it’s THE dream—every young American should fantasize about busting the Furher’s jaw. Hitler was a bitch.
2) George Washington Obviously, I would fight the G-Wash for different reasons than Hitler—our first President was probably an icy badass, and it would even be an honor to get your shit rocked by Georgie “Bitch, I AM America” Washington and dropped into the Delaware.
3) Nathan Gale Ooooh, Nathan. Oooooh, Nathan. You better hope I never die, buddy, ‘cause I will find you in Hell, Nathan. I’m gonna sift through the billions of acres of fiery pitch that is the Netherworld until I find the cold dark place where they keep you, Nate. And there, I will bust your skull open and pee in it.
4) Eddie Iron Maiden’s mascot may have been a zombie, a mummy, a cyborg, a tree, a soldier, a fighter pilot, a bat, and the devil himself, but I bet he takes a punch like any other shmuck. I figure, top of a mountain, lightning in the background—what could be better?
5) Evil Chris Deep down, it is every man’s dream to do battle with a mustached version of themselves that’s just stepped out of a shimmering portal. Best part? By the time your friends show up to help, you’ve somehow torn off his mustache? Who’s the evil one? Who’s the good one! Fundamental questions! GOD, NO!
6) The Pope If I can’t fight God himself, I’ll kick the shit out of his chief servant. You hear that, your Holiness? I am going to fucking stomp your big-hatted ass!

The Six People I Don’t Want to Fight

1) George St. Pierre The Welterweight Champion of the UFC wouldn’t be an honorable fight. Maybe because I’d soil my pants and begin softly weeping upon seeing him. I feel like I’ve had this nightmare before…
2) Jason Vorhees There’s no unstoppable killing machine like THE unstoppable killing machine. It’s barely even a fight if you’re trying to attack a brick wall with a machete. Thanks, but no thanks.
3) Vinnie Jones There is nothing funny or cool about the beatdown Vinnie Jones would give me. It would result multiple screws being driven into my skull and a neckbrace for most of my adult life. No dice.
4) My mom Oh Jesus, I can’t think of anything worse. Not only could I not punch my own mom in the face, but she’d have the power of years upon years of traumatic fear on her side. The only fight I’d ever lose to a woman wielding a wooden spoon.
5) Chuck Zito This massive ex-president of the New York chapter of the Hell’s Angel is most famous for kicking the crap out of Jean Claude Van Damme. I shook Zito’s massive at my first NYC Tattoo Convention, where I think he was signing copies of his book. To put it simply, I was polite.
6) John McClane Dude, there’s no way. If countless dead German terrorists have taught me anything, it’s that John McClane is not to be fucked with. You think you’ve killed him, and then wham, he starts making fun of your dead henchmen over the walkie-talkie. That shit is real.

By Chris “El Miedo Gordo” Krovatin