I have a friend that is a manster. He's 6'5" and weights probably 280, no fat. Back when only old men and bikers carried guns, it seemed like everytime we went to a bar, someone about a foot shorter than him would talk smack. He would avoid it almost every time. But once in a while, he would clock one. The vast majority of the time, that one punch would end it. Usually, a day or two later I would jack him up about it. His standard response was:
"Sometimes, them little guys need an a$$ whoopin'.
Now, other than a stop by a pub somewhere, I drink my homebrew in my shop with friends or family. - Dwain