If you want to know how this story started, you can read about it HERE.
“I’m going to break that stupid fucking jaw of yours Leroy, and then we’ll see if you’re still a smart arse!” He says, as he takes a step towards him.
“I wouldn’t be so sure of yourself, underestimating your enemy is a sure fire way to get yourself killed, but, I don’t need to tell you all this, do I?”
“Shut up and come try me, I eat pieces of shit like you for breakfast!”
“You eat shit, for breakfast?”
“That’s not what I meant jerkwad, I meant people like you are a dime a dozen, I’ll wipe the floor with you and not even break a sweat,” he says, clenching his hands into fists.
“Wait, so let me get this straight, before you wipe the floor with my mangled, broken corpse. You run into people like me all the time, more often than not, and I’m the problem? Maybe Dean, it’s you, maybe you’re the problem, if you keep running into people..” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Dean launches his attack, failing miserably as Leroy maneuvers himself out of his way, sending a gentle nudge into Dean’s back, causing him to crash to the floor in a heap. He scrambles to his feet, letting out a frustrated scream of agression.
“You little piece of shit, I’m going to bust open your tiny little head for that!” He swings punches wildly at Leroy, once again failing to connect. “Boy we can dance all night, but eventually I’ll connect and when I do, you won’t be walking away smiling you piece of shit!” He yells, swinging punches once again, Leroy as before easily maneuvers himself out of the way, this time driving a photo much of his own into Dean’s throat, forcing him to drop to his knees clutching it, desperately trying to breathe, his eyes water, as his lungs burn, and Leroy smiles.
“Like I said, know your enemy, I did.”