Mate of mine was in a pub in Cheetham Hill, and this bloke walks in with a pit bull terrier, and he says:
"I'll back my dog against anybody's dog in a fight. I'll put two hundred and fifty on the bar and I'm open to any challenge."
Right gobshite he was, this bloke.
So me mate went home and got his dog.
"I'll have some of that. You're on mate," he said.
So they put the dogs outside and there was a terrible fight. I mean really...growling, snarling, biting, fucking blood splashing all over the place.
Eventually, me mates dog killed the pitbull stone dead, tossed its body in the air and started eating it.
"Kinell mate!" the gobshite said. "I thought I had the hardest dog in Manchester. Here's your two hundred and fifty quid. That's some fuckin' vicious dog you got there..."
"Aye," me mate said. "I got him when they shut Belle Vue zoo down. You should have seen him before I shaved his mane off."
A retelling of an oldie.