Who's tougher: Me or 12 eight-year olds?

(note: I saw question similar to this on website a few months ago. I can't remember the site, so I guess in a way I'm ripping it off. It's a great question and deserves discussion and I like to think I've added my own little spin as well.)
My whole life, I've always wondered how tough I was. I've been in a few skirmishes here and there, but nothing that's totally proven my manhood. I know I'm not the toughest guy around, but I do know I could kick the shit out of the average American eight-year old, that's for damn sure.

So I guess the questions: Since I know I could destroy an eight-year old in a fight, how many would it take before I was completely overwhelmed by a flurry of eight-year old fists, knees and fingernails?

When it all comes down to it, I guess it would all depend on the eight-year olds. One-on-one, I think I could hold my own for a long time until fatigue sat in. My strategy would to be the agressor and I would attack at the first opportunity. I'd say that-with no weapons-I could defeat 25-30 eight year olds before I got tired and/or I got nailed with a lucky punch.

But, if these guys were smart, they'd attack me all at once and from all sides. It would only be a matter of time before I was overcome. In the latest national survey (in 2002), the average eight-year old weighted between 78 and 83 pounds. Since I tip the scales at close to 160 these days, I feel strong in my belief that I could destroy two at once with no problem.

Three at once, I also feel comfortable in the fact that I would be victorious. The simple fact is, at this point in my life, one punch in the face from me would do much more damage than three punches from them. I'm not bragging, it's just a fact.

For between four and nine at a time, I also believe I would win. I would single out the largest of the group and blast him so fucking hard in the face that the other eight would be scared. And as that child lay helpless on the ground, I'd boot him in the ribs for good measure and them methodically attack the remaining eight.

I'd be like, What's the matter, pussy? You scared? You should be, because you're fucking dead.

Although I think I would still be victorious at 10, it's there that I'd encouter my first problem. It would be here that numbers would catch up to me. If these guys were smart, they'd pounce on me from the beginning. If they employed teamwork, they hold down my arms and legs and between three and four of them could jump on my ribs cage until it broke, cutting off the passage of air until I was eventually rendered unconscious due to lack of oxygen.

So, if these eight year olds were really smart, there's a strong chance I'd be done at seven. But only if they were well-schooled in art of jumping a 23-year old. But I will say, that I would definetly by overwhelmed by 14 eight-year olds in the end.