If a palmist grasp my palm, and look into it, without seeing a single line, what would he read?

Violence was second nature to the psychopathic and ultra-violent Stephen Moyle, who was already a seasoned street fighter, after having half his face torn off in a street fight with three other men.

Looking as sharp as Sweeney Todd’s razor, Roger struck a formidable figure as he donned his smart clothes and tie. At times, he would often talk of the night of his career when he fought John Conteh. He took the defeat of that match very personally and would often punch out a drunk who scoffed at his midlands accent and his past pride and glory.

Back then I had muscles on my muscles, I was tattooed and tanned, wore the tightest of jeans to accentuate my snakelike waist and the whitest of tight vests to accentuate my muscle packed torso. To top it all off, I had the nicest piece of eye-candy on my arm in the form of a stunning, long-legged, mini skirted blonde.

I was so incensed that I was oblivious to all as I ran over broken glass, holding a five-foot weightlifting bar. The glass tore the soles of my feet as I chased the gang’s car up the street. I remember breathing heavily as I cursed failing to catch my enemies.

Consider bonsaiThere but for constricting bowlWould be a giant.

The forefront is not the arena of winners, stay where you are, wherever you are, when its your time, you'll speed off like a psycopath.

This extraordinary tale of madness, leading up to Stephen being sectioned off to the lunatic asylum at Broadmoor, also reveals Stephen’s eventual fight to win his freedom from the asylum, which saw his legal team mount a successful challenge against the ‘criminally insane’ label that was keeping him in Broadmoor. Moyle’s legal team successfully argued that he was either a criminal or insane, he could not be both.