
Be the elongated douche with a terrible haircut:
G-()nna kn-()ck y-()u -()ut, m-()the{r}fucke{r}.

Be the blind boxer:
{R}ing-a-ding-ding, m-()the{r}fucke{r}.
Your name is CONTAS GACHUS, age 7.38 solar sweeps old, and you are one motherfucker nobody wants to mess with. Well, that's what you think inside your head. You can't really tell if others are scared of you, considering that you're BLIND. You were terribly scarred by a mysterious BRIGHT LIGHT as a wriggler, leaving your retinas permanently burned. You don't really like talking about your eyes, and if people point it out to you or talk about them, you GET THE URGE TO KNOCK THEIR TEETH OUT. And, you could. Over the sweeps, you've spent a countless amount of hours training to be a BOXER, possibly Alternia's next TROLL CASSIUS CLAY, TROLL MANNY PACQUIO, or even TROLL MIKE TYSON. You have nothing else you're good at, and you take extreme pride in your fighting skills, your strife specibi GLOVEKIND, and your technique usually revolving around the SOUTHPAW fighting style with swift movements. Unfortunately, you may be TOO LIGHT to even take a blow. Your body is extremely thin and frail, so you'd probably crumple under enough heavy attacks.
Luckily, you have a little ace up your sleeve when fighting(not literally): Your senses are HEIGHTENED whenever you are near another body. Your ears can pick up on their voice, even hone in their internal clockwork. Your skin can feel the heat and shifting movement in the air, your nose sifts through various smells, and even your tongue can taste things most other trolls can't. These abilities give you an advantage when in close range of opponents. You're so dedicated to the whole boxing thing, you've even FILED DOWN your horn, which was RIDICULOUSLY HUGE at one point.
Boxing aside, you do have other interests. You like CUTTING HAIR, and you think you're good at it. In reality you're not, which explains your horrible self haircut. You also enjoy PIXEL ART, and even trying your hand at it. Once again, you suck at something you think you excel at. Somebody really needs to give you a raincheck one day.
You're a pretty decent troll personalty-wise, keeping to yourself but talking to others when they talk to you. You don't like talking. Too much noise for your hypersensitive ears. You do have your violent tendencies, but your lusus, KANGAROODAD, usually helps calming you down by means of SPARRING SESSIONS in your GYMLIKE HIVE.
Your hive is mostly empty save for a boxing ring, some heavybags, and a few lifting weights. You take these with you sometimes on morning jogs with your TETRIS MODUS. You love pixels so much, even your modus is dedicated to a game using pixels. You have to stack the items just right...or they're all ejected.
If you were to be in one special game, you would be the RANGER OF MIGHT in the LAND OF MORNING AND WRATH, with BEETLE CONSORTS occupying the world.
Your trolltag is
pixeledFisticuffs, and y-()u type in an ai{r}y style, h-()pping -()n y-()u{r} feet and using b-()xing em-()tes o-('')o