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Wayne O'Mahoney
03.07.2014 88960720117

"I thought, someone's in my house, without my permission. They better bring an army."

You know how I always love to talk about great face-smashing heroes from history going completely balls-out in a single-minded badass rage to destroy all who oppose them in a cataclysm of neck-snapping Charles Bronson street justice?

Take a look at this:



This is a security camera photo of 41-year-old naked English Lance Corporal Wayne O’Mahoney beating the shit out of three knife-wielding assholes who stupidly attempted to jack his girlfriend’s brand new car in the middle of the night and didn’t expect to be pummeled ruthlessly in the skull with a crowbar being swung from a big, sweaty, completely naked British dude with a ballsack larger than all three of their brains combined.

Do I have your attention?



It was still pitch-black in the early morning hours of April 2, 2011, when a heavy steel-toed boot abruptly and repeatedly smashed against the front door of Lance Corporal Wayne O’Mahoney’s apartment in Salford, England.  Three douchebag career criminal asshole thieves, dressed head-to-toe in black and sporting hardcore-looking ski masks like something out of a bank heist movie, quickly busted in the door, blasting it off the hinges with their boots and forcing their way into the apartment.

Wayne O’Mahoney, a no-bullshit, tough-as-nails British Army artillerist and Iraq War veteran, had been sleeping naked with his girlfriend upstairs – which is always an amazing way to start any story involving a guy’s badass exploits.  The sudden impact of the door being smashed to splinters by a trio of gangsters jolted him awake, and within a split second the Lance Corporal’s mind flipped from “kicking back in bed with a hot naked chick” to “time to wake up and kill the fucking shit out of some asshole terrorists with my bare hand.”

He leapt up, slammed his feet on the hardwood, took two steps, and flung himself down the stairs towards the first fucking thing he could see.

As far as I can guess, the last goddamned thing the hardened , knife-wielding, ski-mask-clad thief at the bottom of the stairs expected to see at five o’clock in the morning was a big naked 40-year-old British dude sailing down a flight of steps at him like a big naked Macho Man Randy Savage.



O’Mahoney, livid with righteous naked fury, sailed through the night sky with all the grace of E.T.’s bicycle ride, his air strike Death from Above crosshairs set on the unsuspecting dipshit below.  Desperate to defend his home and his girl, and completely over-the-top Big Mac Attack out of his goddamned mind, the British Army vet utterly disregarded the deadly weapon being brandished at him, tackled the thief to the deck, and proceeded to pound his fucking ass with a series of epic face-punches.  The guy called to his buddies, screaming for them to aid him from the merciless pounding he was receiving, but those cowards immediately took one look at this shit and were like “fuck this”, bolting in different directions out the front door of the house. 

The thief, squirming free from O’Mahoney and Little Wayne, took one more good shoryuken to the nutsack and then followed them out the door.

But O’Mahoney wasn’t done teaching them a lesson just yet.



As Wayne raced to the door, he came to the horrible realization that while those assclowns were in his house one of the thugs had grabbed the keys to his girlfriend’s brand-new car – and that asshole was now using them to unlock the driver’s side door.

The driver’s side door of the brand new fucking car Wayne had just bought that morning.  The factory-stock SEAT Leon had cost five figures and had about twenty miles on the odometer. 

This guy sure as shit wasn’t getting away with it intact.  Wayne would make sure of that.



Wayne O’Mahoney, still rocking the no-clothes look, ran to his front door and threw open the lid of the toolbox he kept by the door.  He grabbed the first thing he could find – a small crowbar – and charged over to the car brandishing it like it was goddamned Excalibur and he was the King Arthur of smashing thugs’ brains in with a tire iron. 

As he approached the car at speeds roughly approaching the Earth’s escape velocity, Wayne caught a glimpse of the thief sitting in the driver’s seat.  The guy was waving a big knife around like hey dude stay the hell away from me in a desperate attempt to look like he wasn’t about two seconds away from shitting his pants and ruining the upholstery. 

O’Mahoney didn’t give a fuck.  He smashed out the driver’s-side window of his own brand new car with a single running swing from his crowbar, showering the thug with broken glass and misery.  Like a true badass, Wayne O’Mahoney would rather fucking destroy his new car with his bare hands than watch some asshole Rolling Stones-hating anti-Brit terrorist Jackson his shit, and that is of course something we should all be able to appreciate.


Dramatic interpretation.


With the window smashed to shit, Wayne O’Mahoney reached in, grabbed the stunned thug by his stupid neck, and then proceeded to righteously punch him repeatedly in the face and head over and over again without mercy.  Bashing this guy’s skull with a devastating series of completely-nude fist-punches to the dome, the British Army war hero showed that would-be car thief that Grand Theft Auto might be a fun video game and all, but when you fuck with the wrong innocent bystander you’d better be prepared to reap the consequences.  With your face. 

O’Mahoney, who, oh yeah, had been put on medical leave from the Army for a fractured goddamned scapula, didn’t even seem to notice that he was breaking this guy’s head while punching him on broken fucking shoulder.  With a soundtrack that closely mirrored a Mortal Kombat arcade game, Wayne continued waling on that douchebag until finally the carjacker had enough, managed to break free from Wayne’s grasp, slid over to the passenger seat, fled the vehicle, and ran off down the street screaming and crying and urinating uncontrollably.  Presumably this bastard still has nightmares about Wayne O’Mahoney’s junk.  We can only hope.

Awesomely, it was only after the entire battle had ended and the neighbors had come out to see what the commotion was about that Lance Corporal O’Mahoney realized he’d forgot to put on pants or anything.  When he realized why he was getting all the funny looks from his friends, family, and neighbors, this adrenialine-charged, never-give-a-fuck hardass just shrugged, went inside, and curled back up next to his girlfriend.









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Tags: 21st century | British Army | Crimefighter | England | Martial Arts | Soldier | Vigilante

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