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Yo, dude.
The name's Dick Hard, certified Badass. You might think these chiselled abs, this pretty face and this killer Mom tattoo make me a choir boy worthy of your never-ending adulation, but I'm a motherfuckin' bad boy, and not the kind commonly found on Wattpad.
I don't ride a Harley, unless her name is Harley and she likes it doggystyle. On occasion I will ride a motorbike, but it better be fuckin' Asian, because those things go, baby.
I've killed dudes, so many of them I've lost count. My estimation is somewhere north of five thousand. I've blown them to smithereens, not with my mouth but with my fists. These knuckles? They're not even real, not no more. After punching in so many heads, the things shattered. Had to replace them with titanium alloy. I had bone fragments in my fucking bloodstream. Are you that awesome? No, you're not.
Yeah, I've been stabbed and cut and slashed. I've got scars that glow pink, and not in a gay way, either. My nano-augments are just pink, okay? I'm better than you. More than man, more than machine. So suck on the cold, hard barrel of this here revolver and eat my lead, bitch.
I'm an Anti-Hero. Dick Hard. Remember that name, buddy, because it's the last thing you'll feel when the ammo from my weapon is penetrating your brainhole.
