Comedian Michael Ian Black has a book out, and to publicize it, he challenged Tucker Max (pictured) to a fight. Max wrote the best selling I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell, the movie adaptation of which is currently in production in Louisiana. Black doesn’t sound serious, but Tucker accepted the challenge anyway. I really hope they fight, because the advice my dad gave me on his deathbed was that saying you’re going to fight and then not actually fighting is what queers do. Black’s challenge:
So Tucker Max, you drunk, misogynistic motherfucker – I am officially calling you OUT! I am going to fist fuck every hole in your boozy little body until you crawl away like the sniveling little bitch that you are. YOU’RE DEAD!
I’m completely serious. I’d LOVE to fight you. I’ll even promise to show up drunk as shit. I’ll drink an unreasonable amount of alcohol before we fight–20 beers, 30 beers, whatever it takes to me plastered. And if you don’t think I’m drunk enough, I’ll keep drinking. As long as I am conscious and able to stand on my feet, I’ll fight you. And here’s the kicker: If you beat me, I’ll give you the next royalty check from my book. It should be about 150k, give or take agent fees and other things. I am completely serious.
So Tucker Max has officially accepted my challenge to a fight. Good. That was the easy part. The hard part? Deciding exactly how I am going to rearrange his face. Will I pluck out an eye and stuff it up his nostril? Will I make him choke down his own tongue until he throws it up and then sit on his head and force him to lap up his own puke like a bad little puppy? Or will I simply knock out his teeth and then use them as Chinese death stars which I will then throw into his black heart? I just do not know. But I do know this: Tucker Max is going down. How do I know this? Because Tucker may have the athleticism, the muscles, the fighting skills, the experience, the guts, and the heart. But I have something he will NEVER have – I’m not sure what that is, but if I think about it long enough I will probably come up with something. I might be better at Scrabble, for example. (I also have one of the original pets.com sock puppets, which I’m sure he doesn’t have, and will never have, but I don’t think that will help me in the fight.)
This isn’t going to happen. Which sucks, because when I write a book, I will definitely fight Tucker Max. Or Michael Ian Black. Or a homeless person. Or a scarecrow stuffed with chickens. I’m completely serious. Really, I just like to punch things.