The 7 stages of a nightclub fight

As narrated by Sir David Attenborough

[Hushed whisper]: “Welcome, to Planet Earth. In this, our latest series, we look at one of the great wonders of the natural world- the drunken nightclub brawl.”

“This bizarre ritual is unique to homo sapiens, typically attracting less endowed males of an aggressive, stupid or inebriated disposition. Never before has this ceremony been described in such great detail, in this, the definitive account of the 7 stages of a club fight.”

Colloquially known as “pre-gaming”, these males steel themselves for the night ahead


“In time-honoured fashion, the males gather round the watering hole to gulp down vast quantities of jagerbombs and Foster’s Lager. Such intake will prove invaluable in preparing the aspirant alphas for the conflict ahead. Cries of “Down it fresher” echo round the watering hole as the males lumber towards the mix of squirming flesh known euphemistically as the “cheese room”.


“Taking care to navigate their way round the circling sharks, the intoxicated combatants scan the room, looking for a potential victim to square off against. A weaker beta male “making out” is a favourite target of the drunken alpha; hoping to stir up romantic conflict he accuses the beta of “stealing his bird”. To cries of “Go on Dave”, he furrows his mono brow, puffs up his chest and unleashes a string of expletives. A crowd of onlookers flock round, eager to watch the unfolding spectacle.”

Cool heads prevailing


“Blows are narrowly averted as the less testosterone fuelled clubbers intervene. Using a mix of persuasive bribery- “Ollie, leave it, I’ll get you a VK alright?”- and brute force- “Grab his arms Nathan”, the mortal rivals are separated just as the red mist has begun to descend. The two flash V-signs across the room. The gauntlet has been thrown down.”

The dancefloor is a weird and wonderful place


“Whilst the two big beasts may have been separated, their anger remains unabated. Fortified by further liquor, they seek to return to the centre of the dancefloor and the centre of the fray. If not properly supervised by the more responsible, they lurch after their foe under the pretext of seeking to enjoy “an absolute banger of a tune”. The two meet in the middle of the floor; words follow; the duo go face to face and a sucker punch is thrown. The fight has begun.”

Training for the fight begins long before the male has finished adolescence


“Following the first punches, friends rush to the side of the agressors, seeking to restrain their arms. In an almost homoerotic display of pent up aggression, the snarling faces of the two males are inches apart. Then one breaks loose and carnage is unleashed. Punches are thrown in the gut, the head and even in the groin; Queensbury rules don’t apply in this arena. Amidst the flashing lights and moshing mass of bodies, ordinary revellers are involved by a stray blow; a handful of hardcore “nutters” spot the opportunity and dive on in as well. Drinks are thrown, shirts ripped, hair even pulled if an irate female gets dragged into the action. It is, quite simply, utter madness.”


“At the sight of the mass brawl “kicking off”, the lesser spotted bouncer emerges to exert control. Flanked by similarly balding bruisers clad all in black, the bouncer will shove his way to the centre of the conflict, arguably inflicting more damage to innocent bystanders along the way. Grabbing hold of the brawling alphas, the bouncer will unleash a series of choice four letter words and an effective choke hold, resigning the combatants to their fate. Whilst a few might escape by disguising themselves as spectators, most participants will be banned on the spot “for life.”

Such injuries will be worn as a badge of honour by these vanquished males


“After their unceremonious exit from the club and subsequent depositing on the pavement outside, the emasculated alphas will seek to nourish their bruised egos and empty stomachs. Attracted by bright lights and the smell of grease, they lumber towards the nearest “chippie” and consume vast quantities of under-cooked chicken. There they will relive their (highly edited) memories of the fight- “Mate, I absolutely decked him”- before returning home to collapse in an alcohol induced slumber. And thus, the circle of life goes on.”