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Boxing Competithion Started by: MikeTyson on Jun 07, '22 11:29

Hell yes, Iron Michael!

I will enter the competition. I too enjoy a bit of bloodthirsty battery!

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Johnny loved the gym. He worked out to stay in shape not because he wanted to be a good athlete or a boxer but because he just wanted to look good. Specifically when he was naked. Johnny wanted to look good naked when he was swinging his package around. Johnny heard that there was a boxing competition going on and he loved knocking people out. He sees Mike Tyson one of his sparring buddies in the gym handing out flyers and greets him with their secret handshake by grabbing his package and then patting his bum.

"HELL YEAH IRON MIKE SIGN ME UP!"

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In addition to my guest announcer role, unfortunately shared in an extremely cramped 5 man booth with HeadCoach, I am eager to hand out quite the beating. Allow me to say....

HELL YEAH, IRON MIKE.

I didn't take 34 muggings directly to the face to shy away from....well, more fists to the face. If anything, my heavily weathered jaw is going to be a help. That's how it works isn't it? I've never heard stories of people's chins failing them after multiple knockouts or anything. I'll even be stuffing myself into my thigh-grazing, extra starched, super skinny shorts especially for the occasion. You're going to love it.

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HELL YEAH IRON MIKE!

However I would prefer to act as a referee, as I am more of a lover and basketball assistant coach than I am a fighter.  But I do happen to have a black-and-white striped referee shirt with matching black referee short shorts and a black-and-white referee's mafia fedora. 

I should also note that I wasn't paying attention when you explained the rules, so I will need to get with you for a briefing. 

And be glad that Henson has not signed up yet, as his boxing chops are pretty fierce.  He's been known to walk into the stands mid-game and start punching fans in the face indiscriminately, including fans wearing official Detroit Dribblers apparel.  At first I was concerned by his temper and tendency for violence, but after much review and internal investigation, we determined that his level of violence met the league minimum, thus his promotion to Right Hand man for his efforts.

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But Coach FrizzleFry, I have already been tempted in by Iron Mike and signed myself up.

 

He knows of the true combat ability I possess and my desire to go through 12 glorious rounds of punching Jaws in the face repeatedly. 

Nothing could possibly fill me with more joy. 

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Middy had been hearing about this for a couple days now. Iron Mother Fucking Mike Tyson will be holding a boxing competition. This was something he knew he couldn't not be part of. Mid saw Tyson as a legend not only for his just raw talent and hard work he put in to become the greatest ever. Middy also is a complete fuck up and enjoys even shot out things Tyson was known for at times in the past. Middy gets ready and psychs himself the fuck up.

  "Woosah mother fucker." MidpoinT says to himself as he slaps both cheeks to his face to focus and contain his excitement. This legend would wrestle his pet fucking tigers, threatened to eat a mother fuckers children, and is also one of the best boxers to ever fucking do it. Ready to go Middy walks in and grins and yells  "HELL FUCK YEA IRON MIKE!" Middy then gives Iron Mikes buns of steel at smack. 

"Hmm, would Iron Mike has ass cheeks made of steel or would they be Iron?" Middy says wondering what the answer would be.

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Hell Yeah Iron Mike!

I'm not one to back down from a challenge, especially not ones issued by the likes of HeadCoach. I'm looking forward to making short work out of anyone who stands in my way. Thank you, friend MikeTyson for organizing such a massive opportunity for me to humiliate the Coach (and Hobbs).

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Iron Mike was feeling PUMPED! A 3 day battle with a fever had his usually razor sharp killing edge a little blunted but he soldiered on like the warrior he was. 

"I am happy to thee so many entrants from all over the country! Well not so much the East Coast! We will make a great success of this feast of pugilithic perfection my friendth!"

Iron Mike has his background nerds hard at work on the bracket which should go up later today. Fights will kick off on Thursday to give any aspiring degenerates a chance to place any thide betths on thith here thindig.

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Iron Mike was red in the face. No closure of the public bathrooms could bring on this level of apoplexy, he had just been presented the bracket by the background math nerds he has borrowed from Grin-22

He pins the POSTER of the first round draft to a handy lamp post. 

"Read it and weep ladieth and gentth. We sadly didn't make it to the required 32 partithiplanth so some unavoidable passes into the second round have been made" (At random) 

Plot your path to the final & eternal glory. Our amazing First Round action will kick off on Thursday. We have some amazing fights including staunch Mug City RHM Skidmark taking on a Fat_Horse the winner of which will face Johnny-McIver in round 2.

We also have the star of the washroom scene & much more successful competition runner Grin-22 Vs Nicola-Trevisani with the winner going on to face Justice in the second round. 

I thimply cannot wait to see pride of mug city Conqueeftador in action against the strange non swearing wierdo Gnoch & am at leath themi errect at the prospect of a humiliating first round exit for Hobbs against MidpoinT "

Iron Mike scratches his bald dome, still a little week from his titanic battle with tonsillitis. (Try saying that with a lispth!)

"Now my friendth in the spirit of mug city & all things sporting I wanted to remind you all trash talking is MANDATORY & will be looked upon favorably by our judgeth, also visits to Iron Mikes Muscle Maker for a sparring session will no doubt be helpful."

"Good luck to all of our competitorth! I am proud of you all" 

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Although he had been born a muscle-bound freak of enormous proportions, the Boxing competition for one reason or another, be it the will of random chance, or an underlying jealousy that some of Detroit seemed to have for Las Vegas-- had poor Gnoch as one of the more pathetic underdogs of this entire charade-- to the point of making him go to battle against a short porky man that went by the name of Conqueeftador in the first round, and not only that, but he wasn't even projected to beat this runt that he could easily punt into next week.

"You know what..."

Squeezing his hands tightly as to not accidentally let out a single curse word from his humble lips, he stared out into the soul of the soulless poster and just shrugged. He would prove that he belonged here whilst in the ring, and not waste his time attempting to argue with whatever broken system calculated who should be ranked where.

"... never mind. I'm doing this for the little guy, but NOT that little guy..." he pointed over towards Conqueeftador to let everyone knew which little guy he was talking about, and then he walked away. There was a lot of training to be done, and if the lack of pop in his glamor muscles was any indicator, he would be out quickly if he didn't turn this ship of a body around and fast.

"I'll see you in the arena... punk."

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Skidmark stares at the poster and sees that he missed the first round bye that a man of his talents rightfully earned...

"No matter. My path to the final round is not going to be disrupted by any of the dweebs who were brave enough to enter the competition. The only ones who might even make me break a sweat are the other Detroit ballers. There are no other real athletes in the competition. Seems like the little prick hockey players out West are being executed for attempted assassinations of Philly leaders. Shame. Everyone knows hockey players can throw punches, but not if they are dead".

Skidmark looks closer at his opponent in the first round...

"A horse? You have me matched up against a fucking HORSE? Jesus tap-dancing Christ. How do you even put boxing gloves on a horse? This should be no problem at all. I'll just give that mother fucker a carrot and knock his ass out while he's chewing on it".

Looks at the horse's personal identification card on file with the Detroit Boxing Commission...

"Says here he bites. HA! Big hairy ass deal. I've been training with Iron Mike Tyson, himself. I know how to defend against biters. Mike, just move me into the second round already. Why bother with formalities? A horse. A fucking horse".

Skidmark shakes his head and walks off laughing...

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Hobbs checked the list of competitors to see who he'd drawn in round one. He was displeased not to get a member of Detroit to punch repeatedly. It had been days since the Mug-a-thon had ended, and since then all of Detroit was too lowly to even attempt to pickpocket him anymore. Cowards that they were. 

"Interesting, MikeTyson. If I wasn't already embroidered in a potential legal battle I'd be sorely tempted to challenge who's been granted a pass without a fight. Illuminatiated no doubt prostituted himself to get through and pulled Jarrick behind him. Headcoach going through is a travesty. For a man with fish for arms I'm sure he'd prefer to batter his way through. Instead he's managed to prove a slippery catch and fall through the net."

Hobbs paused reviewing the rest of the list noticing those from The Strip had also found their way through on their own merit.

"I'm sure the fact all three Summerlin competitors have to fight a first round battle is purely coincidence, eh?

Hobbs wondered if Mr Sketches would review the bylaws of this event as well for him... but having seen the transcripts and two trucks worth of research into his other case he decided it was probably just not worth it.

MidpoinT, may the best man win. As long as the very nice, very evil fella gets a beating in the next round I'm happy either way. I'd also like to state for the record I'm currently carrying a slight injury, so if I lose it's because of that."

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Johnny looks at the poster and is shocked that he's the only one from the East Coast who signed up. There were numerous great boxers that came from the East Coast many Boxing greats and legends. But maybe this was a good thing for him win and the entire city hell the entire East coast would be behind you.


"New York stand up! I'm winning this shit for the city. I get a  first round bye because they know these hands are dangerous."

Johnny flexes his arms and two of the most gorgeous women kiss them

"Skidmark and Fat_Horse. Both of you better hit the gym regularly. Because you're both out of shape, and don't know how to fight. Step in the ring with me and it's over. I'll be waiting and watching."

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The even more smartly dressed man appeared to say his piece. He had been taking fashion tips from an unknown source and was now wearing a rather fetching fedora with a red feather in it to match his red tie. He was feeling spicy today. 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I am here today to introduce the BBB sponsored athlete who will be representing our fantastic organisation in this boxing competition. Of course I'm too important and smartly dressed to be punched in the face so we have found another chump champ to represent us".

He paused for dramatic effect

"The BBB have chosen Void to represent us"

Somewhere in this world Hobbs spit out a mouthful of an elaborate cocktail. People shook there heads in disbelief and some goats fainted. Maybe Conqueeftador was right and we should keep the goats. They certainly added to the drama and the German Shepherds could look after them. It all fell into place.

"Yes Yes you heard me right, he was our chosen candidate, however, due to some unforeseen circumstances and some smoke inhalation issues Void will no longer be representing us. Instead I introduce to you from parts unknown, weighing in at 100 reams of paper, the DMPC paperweight champion of the world TOBY THE COLOSSUS."

An enormous man appeared. Where had be been hiding people thought? It didnt make sense but nothing did so they just went with it. The recovering goats fainted again. Thump thump went Tobys tree trunk legs are he approached. He of course could not be confused with a gentleman of a similar toby who did a most excellent and impartial job. However, they were likely related in some capacity. 

"I now turn to you Alina, do you like the hat. I got it just for you. I know you enjoy hats and think Detroit should wear more hats so I one for Toby as well".

He handed Toby an old little paper hat with DMPC written on it which had been worn by the kings of yore

"We have seen you Alina, wandering the streets of Detroit, entering one building after another and muttering to yourself like Illuminatiated looking for his fluffy rabbit slippers in the morning. You behave like you may have some brain damage but after your beating at the sledgehammer fists of Toby here, you will be guaranteed of that, its more than a guarantee, its a spoiler. I am glad your are one of the hidden ones because when Toby is done with you, you will have to hide you disfigured body away from the world. Alina I finish with this, please bring the bitch out to play."

With that being said he turned on his heels and called away Toby. He was going to bring him for a nice meal to celebrate their coming victory. Who knew what Toby eat, most likely everything. 

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Number 1 hype man Iron Mike was feeling PUMPED up with all the trash talk. Gnoch was a brave man taking his life in his hands provoking the pride of Detroit Conqueeftador but it showed real balls. 

Brother Skidmark was going to do an amazing rendition of 'that time the Geordieth got sick of thagging Alan Thearer and bashed up the police horse' it was going to be a truly magical time.

Johnny-McIver's advice for all manly men to hit the gym regularly had Mike almost tumescent. What a time to be alive! All was well in the world until Debbie Downer started complaining again. Iron Mike resisted the urge to bash all of Hobbs 180-200 bodyguards into body bags (Only due to cost, never lack of physical ability) gathers his composure & replies. 

"Friendth Hobbs & all other admirerth of the art of pugilithm. I have some wonderful announcements to make regarding our first round bouts getting under way tomorrow. Due to Mary Sue always complaining the world is against her, we have drafted in an outside organisation to oversee the entire competition. No allegations from Hobbs of impropriety will be tolerated. Freiendth & Hobbs allow me to introduce our new competition regulator & (guest commentators for tomorrows first round match of Hobbs Vs MidpoinT ) BBB Yes that's right, the mug city triple threat will now be known as the Better Basketball & Better Boxing Bureau! Kudos my friendth."

"We also have 2 other wonderful guest commentators for tomorrow nights action. The Buddah of Ball, The Girth God himself HeadCoach will be providing expert analysis on the much hyped Grin-22 Vs Nicola-Trevisani first round match. Friend Illuminatiated will be covering BBB Vs Alina. I think we can all agree, based on the trash talk alone, BBB will wipe the floor with the Chicago challenger but there is still time for Alina to sneak in a training session down at the Ol Muscle Maker or get some trash talk clap back ath it were."

"What a nights action we are in for freindth!"

Iron Mike wonders where the (Unpaid) hired help of all round sports enjoyer / reporter FrenchieReynolds had got to? He would track her down eventually!

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Damn you sign up for a little competition and you have to take all kinds of fucking verbal abuse.

BBB you want the bitch to come out?  Well here she is. Is that enough fucking muttering for you? 

I don’t know where your personality ends and your brain damage begin but  we will see  after I bitch slap you around a few times.

Win or lose you are going to regret calling her out.

Walks off in her invisible hat. 

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Imperium watches the Invisible hat wearing lady walk off somewhere

Wow. That was remarkable. 

Looking over at Head Coaches wife he smiles,

Lets go do some yoga. 

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Conqueeftador had received notice from MikeTyson that his first round fight was scheduled against some Paradise pygmy named Gnoch. Word spread quickly around the gym that this man had the impertinence to call the great Conqueeftador out in the streets and went off to see for himself what was going on. According to his initial reports from the infallible BBB this munchkin had called him small. Imagine that Conqueeftador, the pride of Detroit basketball; standing well over 6 feet tall and weighing an impressive 450 lbs., being called a small by this gnat. 

The floor shook, in fear of course, as Conqueeftador rounded the corner and stepped up to a hastily built podium. "Now listen here friends, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea here. I admire my opponent’s courage and respect this man far more than Hobbs respects the sanctity of the 12th Street Public Toilets. To get into the ring with a world class athlete such as myself takes some mighty large balls. Lucky for him he’s in Paradise and allowed to keep them!” Conqueeftador shot a knowing glance at Hobbs before turning back to his opponent.

“Gnoch, I’m not sure what got into your head thinking you could compete with the likes of me. I’ve been training my entire life for this, and I think we’ve all seen you sitting in the coffeeshop day after day, sucking back your little lattes and claiming your free snacks. What number were you up to now on that punch card? Don’t bother answering, we can all see your well over 350 freebies claimed. Maybe it’s about time you head back to the coffeeshop and talk about your feelings. The ring is no place for the likes of you.” 

Conqueeftador flexes, which causes immense strain on his JMAST leisure suit. Several seams begin ripping and a single button from his pants launches off, instantly killing a poor homeless man across the street. “Because I have so much respect for you as a person I will give you just one chance to walk away from this fight. If you choose to enter the ring with me I will not be held responsible for what may happen. Once that bell rings there will be no stopping the Detroit style beatdown that you will experience.” Conqueeftador looked over to the BB representative who held up several signed copies of the liability waiver releasing him from any and all responsibility.

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"Wow Mike, that feels like a $21 million dollar mistake you just made there. I got $21 million from you, I then won the lottery and I thought to myself "Hobbs, maybe it's time we gave back to the community. Let's repay Mike for organising a boxing match. Let's buy him some new metal teeth to chew some more ears off", and then I see this? It's not a very nice thing to see, Mr Tyson. I've had a very busy day running an empire today, and when I come back home this is what I see. Another BBB farce. Maybe you don't need $21 million dollars after all, my friendth.

You'll go down the same route as the last BBB my friend. I only need to say the word and my lawyer friend Mr @Jhonny-Sketches will pick apart your pathetic Bureau with reckless abandon."

Hobbs went to find a pay phone since mobile devices were not invented at this time, but that would be a brilliant invention come to think of it he wasn't sure how legal it was for both parts of the Triple B's to be commentating and officiating on his match. 

"Sketches, is there any bylaws I can use to get this changed? I feel like I'm being set up to fail before the first punch has even been thrown! How can I focus on my opponent when the competition organisers are already against me? It's Hobbs vs The World here".

Hobbs then witnessed BBB destroy Alina in verbal combat

"Hmm... on second thoughts, I think I'll allow the Better Boxing Bureau do it's thing.."

Hobbs shrugged. 

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A little birdie told Fat_Horse that Skidmark was spitting a little fire in the streets so he decided to chime in to kill some time before the fight took place.    I'm sure others are training extensively prior to their bout but not Fat_Horse, it's business as usual for him.

 

"Skidmark, good sir, while I surely am not an athlete, I must warn you that I am likely as close to being an athlete as one could get without actually being an athlete.    I am very muscular and those muscles are protected by natural padding so may I suggest not even worrying about body blows as it will prove useless.    

 

And yes, I will have boxing gloves on, but not as many as you may think.     You're likely assuming I will be trotting circles around you in the ring with gloves on all of my extremeties but alas, that will not be the case.    I box in an upright stance...yes that means I will be standing up on two legs just like you.    Good luck reaching my head for that knock-out blow you speak of as I will be towering above you the whole time.    

 

Also, the carrot trick is the oldest trick in the book and I will be ready for it.   I don't even like carrots, but carrots coated in peanut butter might do the trick.   Oh, shit, I've said too much...."

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