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

MidpoinT has been away getting himself in the right mindset for the match. After a bit of time he was there, this was war he was here to destroy his opponent. Not understanding what all the bullshit friendliness was about, Mid just sat all day shadow boxing. Picturing every which way Hobbs would come at him and how Middy was going to dismantle him, make him hobble a bit before tucking him in for bedtime. Noticing Hobbs saying something about the best man winning MidpoinT laughs to himself. 

"I intend to." grinning an uncomfortable grin Mid goes back to his preperations.

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Iron Mike was in a state, knees weak, arms thphagetti. He could not locate sports enthusiast & paid (Nothing) sports reporter @FrechieHorn anywhere. 'What a thucking dithathter' muses Mike to himself. Still the show must go on.

"Friendths, now for the thousands in attendance as well as the millions watching at home on HBO Pay per view. From the fabulous JFMAST sports stadium. LETS GET READY TO RUUUUUUMMMMMMBBBBBBLLLLLEEEEEEEE!"

The crowd goes wild. Iron Mike is looking swole and vathcular in a smart white shirt & is sitting comfortably in the commentary box. The camera pans down quickly across the crowd & zooms into the ring as the venue lights cut out. Iron Mikes distinctive tone cuts across the aid via loudspeaker for commentary. The venue lights raise with both fighters in the ring.

"Ladieth & Gentleman our first fight of the evening is, in the red shorts weighing in at 285lb of pure muscle, pride of Detroit, scourge of geekth everywhere Skidmark, in the blue corner weighing in at 1800lb we have a Fat_Horse."

The referee tells the contestants he wants a clean fight & to touch gloves.

"Now ladieth & gentth brother I can tell you all with certainty Brother Skidmark is winning this fight, he has been putting in the hard yards down at Iron Mikes Muscle Maker..."

A 'Booo shut the fuck up with the spoilers Mike is heard from the crowd.

"Whilst the weight and size advantage is on Fat_Horse's side, Brother Skidmark is way ahead on confidence & simple junk yard dog type meanness. Look at the way he moves around the ring, a mass monster with the assured manner of some fancy pants law geekth."

Iron Mike lets out a high pitched gasp as the punches start to fly. Fat_Horse gets in first with a crack of a jab. Skidmark eats the jab with a grunt. Skidmark sticks to the task with dogged determination & hits the horse with a terrific combo of Jab, Cross, Hook. Smack, Thump, Wallop.

The horse looks a little worried. Have you ever conthidered how expressive a horses face is friendth? Well you have now! 

Skidmark moves in for the kill & blasts the horse with a lethal uppercut. Clatter, Gurgle, Grunt. The horse is out cold.

"Did you thucking see that friendth? He knocked out a horse....Let that think in! The mad man actually did it! Great fighting spirit brother Skidmark

The crowd lets out a polite round of applause. Must be a bunch of animal rights geekth muses Iron Mike. 

"Ok for our millions of fans watching at home check out the fight highlights."

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Skidmark stands over his fallen opponent...he was happy in this (expected) victory, but he took no joy in hitting a horse. Even to get in the ring, Skidmark had to picture the image of horse-gaced Hobbs in the face of his opponent. With that imagery, he had no problem smacking him right in his fat face. But now that the carnage was over, he saw the Horse again. The good sport that he was, Skidmark helped up Fat_Horse and threw a leg over his back, yelling "GIDDYAP!".

The two rode off to get a well deserved drink together at the local pub, while Skidmark pondered how he would destroy his next opponent. Hopefully a human one this time...

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END COMMERCIAL BREAK.

We have a real treat for the thousands watching & millions watching at home on HBO Pay per view. Up next Hobbs&nbsp;Vs MidpoinT

At this point Iron Mike would like to welcome to the broadcast booth his friend, brother, one very drunk time secret lover & all round good guy Greg BBB&nbsp;who will be covering Hobbs Vs MidpoinT fight commentary duties. The Better Basketball Bureau have been appointed to oversee this fight to avoid any potential legal issues with our most litigious contestant Hobbs.

Take it away friendth BBB. 

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"Ladies and Gentlemen, I am definitely not a well-dressed man and I welcome you to our next exciting fight. This fight is brought to you by 12th Street Public Toilets for all your excretion needs.  Before we begin a little admin as MikeTyson has previously mentioned due to allegations of match-fixing, prostitution, and general whingeing from a certain somebody, The ingenious decision to invite the Better Boxing Bureau to oversee this fight and ensure all regulations are adhered to. With that boring nonsense out of the way, I will introduce our two competitors."

"Firstly, we have Middy the MidpoinT who is a Summerlin native, a demon for free coupons and loves a good slap in the face. That might prove useful tonight”

“His opponent tonight is a man known by many names Hoobs, HobNob, and That fella from Summerlin who’s always talking shit about Detroit. Yes, that’s right we have a bitta Summerlin on Summerlin action tonight for you fine people. MidpoinT will be fighting the self-proclaimed prince of Summerlin Hobbs”.

“It looks like we are almost ready for the entrance. I can see many familiar faces in the front row such as HeadCoach, Giorgio-Esposito and Illuminatiated. This one is sure to be enjoyable folks. Two Summerlin brothers beating the crap out of each other”.

MidpoinTs music plays,

“First making their way to the ring is Middy MidpoinT, here he comes folks, look at that man, he’s sprinting down the ramp; slapping himself in the face. What a guy he is. His shorts and boots match the LV COLOUR, with little rainbow flags on the side and The ZOO across the waist, , he’s turning to accept the cheers from his fellow LV family. He’s gesturing to @Giorgio-Esponito, we can’t hear what he’s saying folks the atmosphere is too intense. Man, this guy is fired up, look at that movement.  I have heard his preparation for this fight has involved locking himself in several animal cages and fighting them one at a time. The penguins didn't put up much of a fight, one very determined duck tested his might and he didn't even dare mess with the goats.”

“We wait now for Hobbs. No sign yet.”

A burst of music fills the arena

“Do you hear those cheers and boos? That can only mean one thing! He must be on his way folks! There he is. Oh my. For the folks listening at home, what we are witnessing is almost indescribable. He seems to be dressed in some sort of hideous brownish, tan velvet tracksuit and I don’t believe this! Hobbs is carrying a Detroit flag and a basketball. He’s got a damn crown on as well. Oh wait a minute, what’s this now. He’s got himself a knife. Oh, and he’s burst the damn ball. This man has no damn respect. Here comes Void now with a blowtorch and my god he’s set the flag alight. That absolute devil”.

“He’s gesturing to the crowd now. Detroit aren't happy, the HobNobs are flying. HeadCoach and Skidmark are having to be restrained by security. By god, it’s already broken down folks. The goats have fainted, the HobNobs have been hurled and Touch_Of_Evil has finished his popcorn. Hobbs is prancing down the stage occupied by some of his bodyguards in rather skimpy clothing. I bet that wasn't included in the contract. Look at them go. Bodyguard number 16 is rather flexible, isn't he? They are now passing me on their way to the ring. Look at that snivelling sycophant Void. Why don't you carry his crown, kiss his feet and carry him to the ring? It makes me sick, that man didn't just ignore our offer of friendship, he spat in our face and told us to like it. The crowd is becoming more and more hostile now and Hobbs approaches the barricade. Oh for the love of God, he's stolen that kid’s lolly pop. Booo I say Booo”.

MikeTyson is intervening now. He’s trying to calm the Detroit masses. We might have a riot on our hand’s folks and not a single punch has been thrown”

“Meanwhile MidpoinT is hugging the ropes in the corner and keeping loose. This man has a fire in his eye that I haven't seen since HeadCoach decided to devour an entire chocolate cake in 4 bites. But I suppose you should never challenge a competitive man like HeadCoach”.

Hobbs has been escorted into the ring and we might just be ready to go. You know, this is the first time I have seen Hobbs without his bodyguards, and he suddenly looks very alone and small. He’s pointing to the commentary table, he’s signalling it will all be over in the first round. Usually, people don’t use the middle finger for that but we all know Hobbs is not the usual person. Look at that swine Void what's he doing still out here, get back into your GIMP box where you belong.

 MikeTyson orders for the bell to be rung and we are underway. Hobbs comes out dancing and prancing. But none of that for midpoinT, he's straight in and closing the space. He caught Hobbs with a few body shots but Hobbs springs away and throws back a jab. MidpoinT is straight back at him, he's not letting Hobbs breathe but oh he's walking right into there and another from Hobbs. From a man with such a dislike of all things sporting he certainly moves like a mountain goat. I hate to say it folks but it looks like this is a street fighter against a boxer. MidpoinT is chasing shadows around the ring. Hobbs catches him with a few more shots and MidpoinT is looking tired. And the bell goes for the end of the round.

I think Hobbs took that round easily enough, what do you think German Shepherd number 2, ‘Jawohl, if it keeps like this heir MidpoinT will have the Scheiße kicked out of him.’ Wise words indeed. I will let you get back to those goats and if you see bo peep ask her if she's coming round this weekend.

The fighters are back on their feet and it's time to go again. MidpoinT again charges out showing he still has some fight left in him. But again, Hobbs is too quick for him. This is painful to watch folks. Oh and Hobbs catches him with a big hook! MidpoinT is down to the canvas. MikeTyson has started the count. MidpoinT has made it back to his feet at five! Thank feck for that. Hobbs is showboating to the crowd. MidpoinT is still going through and he's just walking into blow after blow from Hobbs and he's down again! Hobbs is making a yawning gesture towards Void and Void blows him a kiss back. These two are a despicable team.

MidpoinT has answered the call at eight but he's not looking good. He's getting bombarded by Hobbs here but he is refusing to back down! The bell rings but Hobbs keeps pushing the attack!. MikeTyson steps in to pull him away. Come on now! The crowd boos and Hobbs turns away to return to his corner to be doted on my Void. Poor midpoinT doesn't even have a chair to sit down on. A family of goats in the front row are leaving they didn't want their kids to see this.

Here we go again folks and I have a feeling like this is going to be it. Hobbs is styling and profiling now. MidpoinT is wandering around and has to be turned in the right direction by MikeTyson. This isn't right. Someone better put an end to this damn match. Hobbs is pushing his chin out to MidpoinT and offering him a free swing! MidpoinT lunges forward and catches Hobbs! Hobbs looks rattled by that one. MidpoinT is after him and Hobbs is on the defence. The fiend. It looks like that last burst was all MidpoinT had left. Hobbs is laughing now and playing with him. He's gesturing to Void. Hobbs pushes MidpointT away and MikeTyson steps in to separate the two men. Hobbs is grabbing Mike's shirt. I have never seen this before.

Wait a minute what the hell. What's the rat Void doing up on the apron? He got a damn cattle prod. Good god, he's prodded MidpoinT again and again. He drops down and hides the prod. This isn't right, not like this. Hobbs swaggers over towards MidpoinT laughing and MikeTyson is none the wiser. The crowd is erupting and on their feet. Chairs are being hurled. Wait a moment. Is MidpoinT smiling? He is! That crazy son of a bitch is smiling. He's back on his feet with arms wide open calling on Hobbs. I have never seen anything like this before. Hobbs is stunned. He goes in for the kill and MidpoinT catches him. A left and a right. The crowd roars. I can barely hear myself shouting down the mic to you at home. Come on MidpoinT! The blows continue to land, he's on a flow. Hobbs is rocked. Void is freaking out outside the ring. With each clubbing blow, MidpoinT gains more and more ground.

As though time stands still, one final blow sends Hobbs flying across the ring, mouth guard in the air and legs above his head. The entire room goes dead silent until Hobbs hits the canvas. As he hits the floor the entire place erupts in noise.

Good god alright. He's out folks! MikeTyson has called it!  MidpoinT has done it. MidpoinT is falling around the ring and can't hold himself up. Illuminatiated has rolled into the ring. These men will fight another day but tonight the very nice person raises the arm of MidpoinT. They embrace and continue to celebrate.

MidpoinT was told he couldn't do it, he was told he would never amount to anything, he was told he was a deadbeat, gambling addict. But tonight, ladies and gentlemen, he has proved the haters wrong. Tonight he is a winner. Mama and Papa MidpoinT I hope you're watching because your boy has just done the impossible. I don’t believe in God, I don’t believe in ghosts but by fuck I believe in MidpoinT. The prince has been dethroned and left lying in the ring like the pauper that he is.”

Void pulls Hobbs out of the ring and carries him up out of the arena.

“I will leave you to enjoy the rest of the competition. I'm going to watch the BBB-supported boxer likely get his ass handed to him by a very bad bitch. Some advice to you at home, never poke the bear.”  

“Goodnight sweet Prince I guess that's not the shocking victory you had in mind.”

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Void had shown up to the boxing match, basket of popcorn in hand and ready to watch a few good beatdowns. Though he had decided not to enter as a participant himself (after all that would have been doomed to fail) he was excited to see the how the tournament would unfold.

When the much anticipated battle between Midpoint and Hobbs started however, Void (sitting comfortably on one of the chairs in the audience nibbling away at his popcorn) was shocked to find someone sporting his exact apparel and appearance on stage. Flags were burnt, cattleprods were used and kisses were blown, what would this do to his reputation of Peace Pervert! Oh the humanity!

No doubt this was a scheme devised by Hobbs, unable to get Void to commit these agressive acts of his own free will he must've hired a stage actor to play his part for him.

Even though his impostor's stage appearance had initially shocked Void there was still plenty to enjoy in the match however. Trash was talked, blows were exchanged, and fighting technique was displayed. Void could tell MikeTyson had been coaching the participants in his free time to make this the most entertaining show he could.

In particular Void was looking forward to the match that his boss twigs would be partaking in, this would be a good opportunity for him to see the strength of those roots.

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Iron Mike wipes a tear from his eye. What a display of grit & mug city never say die spirit from MidpoinT

What a thucking scrap that was ladieth and gentlemen. I thought a riot was going to break out at one point! But we aren’t finished here oh no. The action keeps coming (Much like myself) Thick & Fast!

Up next we have Iron ‘Mikes Muscle Maker’ regular and Mug City pull-up record holder Conqueeftador Vs possibly the biggest free lunch claimer across these United States the Non swearing & slightly annoying weirdo from Las Vegas Gnoch.

The physical stature mismatch between the contestants its oddly reminiscent of a video Iron Mike once saw where a 90lb blonde called Cassidy tried to take on some powerfully built African American gentleman…Anyway enough about that the fighters have taken to their corners.

As the bell rings for round 1 Conqueeftador is out of the gates like a bull in a China shop, harrying Gnoch with a range of snappy jabs. To give Gnoch his credit the boy can move fast (387 free lunches in 48 Days should have confirmed that already) he ducks dodges & dives his way around the ring. By the end of round 1 it has been a contest much like when HeadCoach last managed to convince Mrs HeadCoach to push the twin beds together. All the attack from the Detroit male, with the opponent in full resolute defense mode.

As the bell for round 2 dings a change in Conqueeftador has became apparent. He is sweating, breathing hard…Surely, he can’t be gassed after 1 round? Iron Mike is momentarily distracted by some blonde bimbo in the crowd who Mike believed may have been sports reporter FrenchieHorn but alas Mike is mistaken. The round starts with Gnoch starting to test the limits of @Conqueeftadors speed & reach, he bobs in & our nimbly & starts to connect with some flurries of punches before gracefully skipping out of reach from the bigger man. Round 2 ends with Gnoch’s stock on the rise.

Round 3 opens with Conqueeftador going for broke with some wild haymakers but Gnoch is too quick. It seems the referee is momentarily distracted eyeing the same blonde in the crowd who Mike mistook for sports fan MariaHorn. Gnoch seizes the opportunity with both hands. He grabs yet another VIP Free Meal voucher from one of his corner team & gives Conqueeftador a vicious looking paper cut across the eyes. Iron Mike is incensed.

“REF DO YOUR JOB FOR FUCKTH THAKE!”

As the round draws to a close the corner team for Conqueeftador throw in the towel. They cannot staunch the bleeding & no one in their right mind (Even a mug city corner man) would risk such a specimen as Conqueeftador running amok blinded by range (& by paper cut)

It’s a win for Gnoch with a stoppage & you gotta say seizing your moment is a real mug city trait, his stock and chances in the competition look to have risen dramatically with this show of ruthlessnethth.

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MidpoinT has both hands raised up in the air at this point looking over he takes notice of Hobbs being pulled under the bottom rope. There wasn't much left in the Princess of Summerlin it seems. Turning and facing Hobbs as he is being carried away, Mid takes notice and laughs at how Hobbs looks like a deflated sex doll being carried off, legs dragging on the ground and just slumpt over still not coherent at all. Middy turns throwing his right hand up in the air again while beating on his chest with his left hand, he takes notice of Illuminatiated. Unable to pass this opportunity up Mid lets out a deep growl and begins to laugh. With a stumble and almost faceplant Mid rolls under the bottom rope hoping to make it to watch the next match in time. 

"Depending how much time I have it may be time for some dicing." Mid heads off into the back to get to gambling and prep for the next fight.

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END COMMERCIAL BREAK

"Iron Mike would like to thank our sponsors of this evenings entertainment, our principal sponsor the church of squishy & our other sponsors the random tip givers & well wishers"

The camera zooms in on Iron Mike in the studio with his friendth the often referred to as a very nice person, the even volume settings aficionado, sometimes crew leader, occasional Nicola-Trevisani wrangler, the one, the only.... Illuminatiated

Enthusiastic applause from the studio audience.

"Welcome to the thudio my friendth & thankth for covering our next fight between BBB & Alina, you go ahead man you call it how you see it!"

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Conqueeftador slowly exits the ring clutching above his eye, as the blood poured from his forehead he quickly made his way backstage in apparent disgrace. Keeping his head down in defeat and eye averted from the dumbfounded crowd. He quickly snaked his way through the backstage area avoiding crowds and the many reporters looking for that inside scoop. As he entered the locker room he wiped a fresh towel across his face removing the excess blood revealing a small blood packet hidden in one of the folds of his forehead. 

He quickly put a band-aid on the supposed “injury” to avoid any probing questions and looked into the mirror. Well it certainly looked real enough. I don’t think anyone suspects a thing. Imagine getting taken out by Gnoch and they just believed it! He opened his locker and removed a small duffle bag full of betting slips. 

Dressing in his normal JFMAST leisure suit he slid on his comfy walking sandals and made for the exit. Conqueeftador had an appointment with his bookie and wasn’t planning on being late to cash in on his greatness.

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The buildup to Round 1 had been something that had the entire underworld buzzing with anticipation; there was so much trash talk going on that it was a miracle they weren't all being surrounded by garbage-men. Ian had made it a point to show up early though he knew that the fight in which he would be commentating wasn't to happen until later in the Card. 

It was a decision he immediately had validated as he watched...a real live... obese horse? He nearly didn't believe it despite seeing it before his very eyes and definitely wouldn't have believed it if he were to have been told of it, but yes, the being known as Fat_Horse somehow managed to not collapse the ring - though despite its bravery, was defeated in the first fight of the night. The next couple of fights went by in a blur and before Illuminatiated knew it - the fight he'd offered to commentate on was up. He settled into a comfortable seat in the studio and took a look over at his good friend MikeTyson who appeared to be having the time of his life. It was probably a welcome change to be on this side of the ropes, Ian imagined. 

He had of course been doing his homework on the two fighters; Alina and BBB. There didn't seem to be any clear cut reason as to why either of them were interested in boxing at all, given that BBB appeared to be some type of a combination between super-nerd and lawyer - something Ian was surprised that the athletes in Detroit were okay with. Then again he was apparently having the "colossus" known as Toby fight in his stead.

Alina, as far as Ian could tell, seemed a decent lass depending on the day. That part was key, as she seemed to have some type of personality disorder. Neither of them seemed to do anything particularly graceful during the leadup to the event - BBB sipped on water, rehydrating after having called one of the rounds. His champion Toby stood nearby stretching, some type of paper hat sat atop his head. Alina was nowhere to be found. Finally, the time had arrived! Strange MUSIC began playing from out of nowhere as BBB's contestant made his way into the ring, almost tripping upon entry. A sheepish smile spread across his face as he raised a single taped up fist into the air. 

"And here we have the first fighter for this round, BBB's champion - self-pronounced 'Colossus' Toby, who is being allowed to fight this evening due to a fairly well known "scandal" that went down recently. Something about 'an army of fireflies raining down life hellfire' and a bit of smoke inhalation, I'm not entirely sure to be honest here. I'm not a reporter, unlike BBB. Well, all is fair in love and boxing am I right?" Ian looked over to MikeTyson and flashed a grin, Mike frantically shook his head back and forth.

"Alright I'm being informed that in fact NOT all is fair in boxing so please lets stick to the rules everyone!"

Mike tapped Ian on the shoulder and reminded him that only one of the fighters had entered the ring so far. Ian merely smirked and nodded back to the action. While the Colossus Toby had his back turned, Alina crawled out from under the ring and landed a solid well-placed full force kick to the mans testicles. Since the match hadn't technically started yet it couldn't be cheating Alina could be heard screaming to the referees who had circled the ring. After a brief conversation they begrudgingly agreed to let Alina re-enter the ring for her fight. 

"A real ballsy move there folks, and might I introduce you to this fights' second fighter Alina! Clearly not afraid to shake things up let's see what else she has in store!" 

Unfortunately for BBB, his champion could barely stand up straight. The bell rang and Alina easily dodged a few weakly thrown jabs from TTC(Toby The Colossus) and drew back her arm fully before punching the man directly in the throat. 

"WOW what a jab, did you see that speed?!" Ian shouted, his eyes flickering back and forth between the two fighters. 

TTC instinctively raised both of his hands to grab his throat and Alina wasted no time in hammering a right hook to his temple followed by two extremely fast left jabs to the jaw, shots that landed unblocked. TTC fell to the ground and it was easy to tell that Alina was holding herself back from attacking the man while he was down. The count continued FOUR! FIVE! SIX! 

"Could this be it already folks? Is this what being hired by a nerd gets you!?"

SEVEN! EIGHT! NINE! TEN! DING DING DING! The ref grabbed Alinas' hand and lifted it victoriously in the air. 

"This is a woman who knows what she wants and apparently doesn't mind letting her crazy come out in order to achieve it! It wasn't the cleanest of things but boy was it entertaining! Ladies and gentlemen - beggars and whores - I give you this fights' winner via TKO in Round 1 - ALINA!" 
 

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As Ian ran through the events quickly in his head he realized who his opponent was going to be and just as he has this thought, looked up to see Midpoint... who appeared to be growling at him? Perhaps he should get to the gym after-all. After a brief handshake with MikeTyson, Illuminatiated swiftly headed off to book a flight to Detroit - though he thoroughly despised going to Mug City after the dreaded BricktownCL catastrophe. 

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The lights were flashing and everyone was around Alina congratulating her.  Alina, Alina can I ask you a few question as she turned around and saw it was sports commentator, Howard Cosell. He came closer to her with his microphone.

Alina congratulations that was a terrific fight.  Let me start off by asking you why you joined the boxing competition?

Well Howard my brother always wanted to be a professional boxer.  I became his guinea pig at a very young age.  As we grew older all I wanted to do was learn enough to kick his ass. I came pretty close once in a while.   I stay in shape, just thought I would give it a shot.

Well from what I see you are definitely in good shape.  Now there seems to be a little discrepancy with Illuminatiated regarding the altercation before the fight. What was that all about?

Thank you Howard, well I didn’t need all that grand standing coming to the ring.  I just wanted to get the shit over with.  I just waited ringside for BBB.  When he saw me he approached me in a very intimidating manner, like he was going to do something.  Howard, I swear it was just reflexes.  

Fair enough.  Alina you did have some nice jabs in the ring.  You didn’t seem to show any mercy.

Well Howard I’ve been taught to finish the job. 

 Alina like I said it was truly a exciting event.  Is there anything else you would like to say?

Well first Howard I would like to thank BBB for his sportsmanship and I will make sure he gets some ice for his face and balls.

Secondly I would like to thank MikeTyson and the Corktown 112 for sponsoring this great boxing completion. 

Next I would like the thank Illuminatiated, Jarrick, Salvatore-Lucchese, Imperium and the Hidden Ones for all their support.

And lastly Howard I thank everyone for their generous tips.

Ladies and Gentlemen that's a wrap.  Thank you very much for the interview Alina and please enjoy your win. 

 

 

 

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END COMMERCIALS CUT TO IRON MIKE IN THE STUDIO

"That wath a hell of a fight. Congratulationth to the winner Alina. Thank you friendth Illuminatiated for the superb commentary. Its true you are a very very nice person / guest commentator. Great job man!"

The camera clips outwards, once twice, three times to reveal the gargantuan form of the buddah of ball, the girth god himself HeadCoach. The crowd goes absolutely apeshit. 

"Thanketh for joining us Coath. I am pleased you took the breather from the buffet table before giving us some razor sharp sporting insights into our next bout. In the blue trunks we have the laundry room superstar & famous duel victor Grin-22 Vs in the red trunks an unknown quantity from Chicago the very quiet, but perfectly nice Nicola-Trevisani."

Iron Mike looks frustrated

"Yeah Coath after the fight is over you can tell us all about how you plan to become the IGA Swiatek of the mafia boxing world...No problemth"

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Hobbs walked around the edge of the ring slowly. He'd been beaten convincingly by the better man, of that was no doubt. His extravagant showman entrance and showboating had caught him out, and in the end he'd been far too slow to see the punch coming. Hobbs could accept this, he was not a bitter man, he was man of the people. A Prince of Summerlin. Pride of Las Vegas. Yet something sat worse on his stomach than a cup of hot coffee from a D0m3n1c establishment. He felt light headed and sick, like he'd just spent afternoon shadowing Alina talking to herself.

He felt like once again he had been dealt a bad hand (or corrupt dice) by Detroit

Sketches was refusing to answer the phone though. Maybe he didn't want to take the last case pro bono after all? Maybe the goat ate the message he left. Either way poor old Hobbs was out in a humiliating first round defeat. He walked back to the locker room taking his anger out on inanimate objects that got in his way. He bumped into a man trying to sneak out the back door in of those custom made yet still ill fitting leisure suits.

"YOU LOOK RIDICULOUS" he shouted recognising Conqueeftador

Yes this was good. Hobbs would take his anger out on this guy.

"Heard you got knocked out by a girl? WUSS". 

This was a guy Hobbs could beat. Probably.

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She had come prepared to the ring. Before her fight she started walking around handing out large signs to people that she had spent at least a few minutes crafting up. When exciting things happened, people would be able to hold them up showing her glorious trash talking. 

"Where did you learn how to punch, a pre-school?" one read, another just had a large trashcan overflowing with an equals sign and Grin-22 's name. Another one said, "you got hit by, you got punched by, a mute criminal" with some music notes around the words. She was most proud of that one if she was honest. 

She was hyped, the normally calm and quiet woman was still quiet but she was jumping in place, her robe that hid her boxing outfit of bright magenta shorts and a sparkly top was floating about her with every movement. Air boxing a bit as she stood there she did her best to look tough, which was an impressive attempt. 

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"IIIIIIIIIN THE BLUE CORNER...

As pale as a ghost from years of bunking in the JFMAST laundry dungeons and as burly as a prawn cocktail, our fighter comes to us from the heart of Mug City itself, where months of beatings have turned his epidermal layer into something better resembling armadillo hide than human skin. While one of the least-appreciated and most unnecessary members of the all-star basketball team, our fighter's resume still includes a wildly successful Detroit Bingo competition, as well as several bodyguards shot dead by HeadCoach - a great honor for anyone, and especially him. He stands where 21 of his ancestors have fallen; will he fare better?

It's GRIN-22!

And IIIIIIIIN THE RED CORNER...

The mute, the brute, the silent killer, our fighter comes to us from Chicago, famously the home of ex-JFMAST and mafia basketball non-understander, D0m3n1c. While having never uttered a word out loud - something we wish we could say about Hobbs - if her right hooks are as devastating as her scrawled-on signs, this could be a battle for the ages. They say there's some dark magic brooding in Illuminatiated's The Loop but the banana in the blue trunks is going to need more than an illusion box to make this woman disappear. She's mean, she's lean and about to be on-screen....

It's NICOLA-TREVISANI!"

From his spot in the commentary booth, Coach sucks in a plate of pasta salad as the bell rings, sending the fighters strutting out of their corners.

"What a fight we have here today, folks. They're not wasting any time. A couple jabs come in from Nicola-Trevisani to feel out Grin's defense. She's aggressive, and you've got to credit the fighters preparation here, playing expertly against Grin's fear of strong, independent women. He's stepped back into the corner, with Trevisani really taking control of the ring, but her shots seem to be struggling against his mug-hardened torso, like tossing oranges against a brick wall. 

Trevisani won't want to waste any more stamina on this and here comes Grin-22 moving the fight back into the center with a clean jab, expertly avoiding a clinch with his instinctual juke-step away from physical affection. Trevisani remains unreadable - without a signboard clearly indicating her feelings about various subjects, it is almost impossible to penetrate that stoic stare for any sign of strength or struggle. Her opponent, on the other hand, seems to be growing more and more encouraged, clearly indicated by the fact he keeps yelling, 'Yes, I did it!' after every punch. 

His momentum growing with every punch soaked into his permanently bruised & beaten frame, Trevisani's shots continue to rebound off Grin's calloused face with no effect. I'd tell you it's like fighting a gargoyle but I don't want to oversell his looks. Trevisani needs a solution here, or this mute is about to face some serious disrepute. The Detroit fighter throws a body shot to the left which sends Trevisani staggering, and he's in for an uppercut....POW!

She's OUT COLD.

GRIN-22 WINS BY KNOCKOUT. 

THE MUG CITY MUNCHKIN MOVES ON TO ROUND 2.

It was a brave effort from Trevisani, she gave it everything she had. Though she's famously beaten Coach to a pulp multiple times, a fighter beaten as viciously and as frequently as Grin endures every day of his life is an entirely different beast. Congratulations to the victor. Back to you, MikeTyson."

A man with a sign reading, "You got hit by, you got punched by, a mute criminal" boos loudly.

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Iron Mike death stares the crowd member with the 'You got hit by, you got punched by, a mute criminal' sign who is loudly booing brother Grin-22.

"Thank you HeadCoach for that fight fight analysis and commentary. I have to say from a personal point of view I am very happy to see another member of Mug city progress into the second round given our earlier results. Kudos to Brother Grin for having no hesitation to batter a mute woman senseless. Mug city's finest!" 

The camera tracks Grin-22 leaving the ring & walking towards the commentary studio.

"Ladieth & Gentlemen, allow me to introduce our final guest commentator for the evening the giant over-sized suit owner, laundry magnate, vital cog in Mug City's operation & recent boxing bout winner...The one, the only...Grin-22"

"Take it away Brother Grin!"

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Grin-22 gave HeadCoach a Detroit hello with both hands, shouting "EAT THAT, FUCKO," into Coach's pudgy face over his extended middle fingers. Grin tutted as Coach slowly laboured his mammoth gut out of the commentary position, pre-loved chicken wing bones resting on the floor wherever they fell with each gross step. That fat lout. It had better for all of them when he was at his "retreat", pointedly without Mrs HeadCoach, who was at another retreat all together. The collective groan from the team when they had realised the rattling of the doors hadn't heralded a 7.0 earthquake, just Coach's ogre feet stomping towards the canteen after his time away, was a sound that would haunt him to his dying day. The despair. It must have been how Mrs Jaws felt whenever she looked upon her idiot son.

Grin disdainfully wiped grease and barbecue sauce off the desk with JFK_Jr's vest, which he wore around his waist like a trophy, taking up Coach's former position in the now incredibly swampy leather commentator's chair.

"Thanks, Mike. A pleasure to be here. An absolute fucking pleasure. Did you see that, Mike? Eh? Did you see that? Nicola who? HA. #10 VIP and #1 victim of the Laundry Locomotive, the Detergent Destroyer, the, the, ME. That's fucking who. You got hit by what? HA. I see you. Yeah you, dork with the sign. Guess what? If she had trouble speaking before, how do you think she's going to do without any teeth? HAHAHAHA. Yeah, settle the fuck down, buddy. Right. What do we have here?"

Grin looked down at the sheet Mike had given to him. He didn't like reading. Words didn't seem very far away from numbers and maths and the other sorts of nerdery that he had been beating out of mute girls for the past 15 or so minutes. He thought one of the names might have said LittleBunnyFooFoo, but he wasn't used to reading it without seeing "You PICKPOCKETED" just in front of it, so he couldn't be 100% sure. He looked up...

"Hey, that's Henson. COME ON HENSON. URGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. MUG CITY BABY. YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS," he shouted out as Henson circled the ring, stepping over the still forlorn form of Nicola-Trevisani. Someone would have to bring her back from next week at some point; Henson didn't seem arsed though. He had his freshly starched uniform glued to his bony frame, strutting like he was a 60 unit Don during Detroit Bingo.

A smattering of cheers from the Summerlin section of the crowd, easily identifiable by their pasty skin and pocket squares, heralded the arrival of LittleBunnyFooFoo. Someone was hauling Nicola out of there by her ankles, her arms flapping around unresponsively, hitting her in her own mushed up face, as Bunny gave the crowd a tentative wave. "Oh this is going to be a piece of piss. You got this, Henson! Probably never dribbled a basketball before. You're all over man, no fucking problem. None at all."

The two fighters touched gloves in the middle of the ring and Henson was immediately on the offensive, a stiff jab, rocking Bunny's stupid floppy ears back, followed up by a straight right, driving her towards the corner. Henson rained down a fluffy of shots as Bunny covered up. "OHHHHHH this is going to be over quickly, I guess that runs in the crew, eh Hobbsy boy, Henson's all over her!" Grin yipped, gleefully, loudly, distastefully, Skidmarkedly, and Henson still on the offensive at this point, looked over and flashed Grin a big dumb grin of his own. 

"What're you? Don't look at me!" Grin pointed frantically back at LittleBunnyFooFoo who, having caught her breath, tentatively threw out a shot at Henson's now exposed back. Henson turned with a snarl and pulled back his hammer of a right hand, ready to put Bunny into orbit, but half-cocked, he stopped, looking over her shoulder, jaw falling to the floor. Grin looked too trying to see what Henson was staring at. "Is that....FrizzleFry? Wait...NO. Is he...is he doing fucking crimes?!" And there he was, the Assistant Coach in all his glory, hands slipping in and out of pockets across the crowd without a care in the world.

Grin was stunned. So was Henson. Seizing her opportunity, LittleBunnyFooFoo struck, a wild, probably eyes-closed haymaker crashed straight into Henson's jaw. The shock of seeing FrizzleFry rising from the dead like a phoenix-penguin baby, black and white and beautiful in his smart-casual mafia basketball referee ensemble, charging towards 40 units had just been too much for him. The shot from Bunny staggered Henson, arms flailing wildly as his legs buckled underneath him, Bunny launched everything she had forwards catching him again around the temple as he crashed into a heap. 

There was a moment of silence, filled intermittently by the sound of HeadCoach gnawing on the remnants of the chicken bones he's dropped, as the realisation about what had happened sunk in. "THIS IS BULLSHIT!" Grin-22 yelled, storming out of the commentary position. He was going to find another girl to beat up, and boy was she going to regret it. Well, unless she looked kind of tough or over 14, then he was probably just going to think mean things about her and tell everyone he said them.  

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The camera pans to cover Grin-22's fast exit from the commentary studio. Iron Mike was slightly concerned Grin high with blood-lust from his previous beat-down of Nicola-Trevisani may take issue with LittleBunnyFooFoo but he put on a professional face and talks into the camera.

"Huge thankth to Brother Grin-22 for his contribution to tonight's coverage. That is our firtht round completed."

The camera pans to a HUGE on screen image of the second round fights.

The second round lookth abtholutely stacked with talent & some great match ups including the man who knocked out an actual fucking horse Skidmark, taking on New York unknown quantity Johnny-McIver. We have a Mug City on Mug City clash of the titans with the Buddah of Ball HeadCoach taking on the recently promoted deputy manager of the concession stand Touch_Of_Evil. Aththithtant Coath FrizzleFry joins the lineup taking on revenge duties for BBB against Alina. In a fascinating match up we have twigs going toe to toe with the pride of Corktown Denis. We have some Vegas on Vegas violence with the draw pitting @Daquiri against LittleBunnyFooFoo & if that wasn't enough for you... We have 2 more great fights planned in Illuminatiated Vs MidpoinT & Vegas Crew Leader Justice Vs a surprisingly competent fighter in Grin-22. The second round will commence on the 22nd & 23rd. Anyone who has an interest in a guest commentator role pleathe let me know.

At this stage all that remains ith to offer a huge thank you to you for watching, to our fighters & guest commentators. BBB, HeadCoach, Grin-22 & Illuminatiated you did a wonderful job.

Ath a reminder to everyone in Round 2. Trash talk is not encouraged, it is MANDATORY & a visit to 'Iron Mikes Muscle Maker' in Corktown for a training session certainly wouldn't hurt your chances of succethth.

Goodnight & God Blethth.

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