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

twigs had severely underestimated his opponent. Not in terms of fighting skills, mind you, but rather in looks. Upon entering the ring for the first time, he couldn't help but fixate on Denis' chiseled abs glistening with pheromonic sweat. Suddenly the bell rang and signaled the start of the fight. He had completely missed the introductions from the commentator, being unable to focus on anything but the deity-like figure in front of him. All his senses gravitated towards Denis. twigs hadn't experienced anything like this since his last locker-room session with HeadCoach.

He had gotten off to a shaky start, but soon started to regain his senses. He'd learned a trick or two on preventing these kinds of situations during big games, which included thinking incessantly about maths and doing taxes. Worked like a charm every time. As composure was regained, twigs made short work out of his opponent.

"Good fight, Denis. This match was as difficult as it was unconventional for me, and I am very sorry to see you out of the competition this early. I hope you will be present as a spectator in the next matches so I can catch a glance now and then.

Also big thanks to HeadCoach for his impeccable commentary and fight-winning advice. What an ironic turn of events that I'm here using his forbidden knowledge to wipe out the contestants from his own city. I wonder if I could also borrow his wife for a yoga session?"

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"As jovial as I am and like good humour and have acknowledged such"

Iron Mike had never been so glad to hear such nonsense. 

"For thucks sake Aththithtant Coach FrizzleFry. I was worried you weren't going to turn up! Get in that ring man!"

Iron Mikes suspicions were heightened when he saw Frizzle grab a celery stick & praise brother Henson, this didn't seem like the Aththithtant Coach Iron Mike knows & loves. Shoving the suspicions deep down with Mikes other numerous regrets he prepares to call the fight.

"Ladieth & Gentlemen, in the blue trunks representing Mug City, the leader of 12th Street, the man who is Jovial, likes good humour AND has acknowledged as suck its ATHTHITHTANT COATH FRIZZLE FRRRRYYYYY!"

The crowd goes bonkers, Hoots and Hollers ring down from the stand. Mike hears a comment in his ear piece from the floor manager something about 'Frizzle doesn't look right boss...' Iron Mike ignores it.

"In the red trunks we have representing the north side of Chicago, newly promoted right hand woman & vicious victory taker over Toby the colossus in round one its Alina."

The fighters are in the middle of the ring, they touch gloves and step apart as the bell rings to signal the start of round 1. 

Aththithtant Coach FrizzleFry comes flying out of the blocks with a technique I can only describe as a windmill punch, this could be over quickly. If Alina doesn't defend herself she could be going down quicker than Mrs HeadCoach on a private yoga retreat.

Alina uses the 5 D's of mafia boxing (Duck, dodge, dive, dip & dickpunch) to great effect. FrizzleHobbs has folded up like a cheap deckchair trying to accommodate HeadCoach's enormous girth. The ref hasn't even spotted the illegal below the belt shot from Alina. The ref is counting but FrizzleHobbs drags himself to his feet by the 4 count.

Alina seizes the advantage & uses her patented technique of throat punch followed by right hook to the temple. FrizzleHobbs eyes have glazed, hes dropped his hands. The crowd are baying for blood. The ref has stopped it....Alina wins!

Mike makes a mental note to execute fire the referee, he was looking forward to seeing fremesis Hobbs get KO'd for a third time. Still his record of 0 wins & 3 losses would give Iron Mike something to smile about for a long time.

"Congratulations to Alina who joins the other 7 victors in the quarter finals, this round has been a bloodbath for Mug cities chances of overall victory!" 

A graphic flashes up on screen for the viewers at home.  HERE IS THE NEXT ROUND.

"Friendth we have an amazing quarter finals coming up. 4 fights, all of which are chock full of quality. Its going to be EPIC"

"The quarter finals will commence on the 4th July. 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. Thanks BBB Hobbs HeadCoach Illuminatiated & Void."

"Ath a reminder to everyone for the quarter finals. Trash talk is not encouraged, it is MANDATORY (I am looking at you LittleBunnyFooFoo!) & 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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Justice quit swinging his gavel at the punching bag as he heard the quarter final announcement. He'd been training super casually for this, and he'd wanted it all his last week. A dream of dreams. He wasn't going to let someone from his own city take this boxing crown from him. 

Turning towards no one in particular, he raises is arms.

LittleBunnyFooFoo? More like LittleBunnyDooDoo! Hah, I'm so good at trash talk. I'm gonna knock you out so bad you're gonna be eating old people mushed up food through a straw for at least a month. 

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Foo listened as Mike spoke. "He wants me to talk about garbage, I don't know what kind of state the city of Detroit is in but in Vegas we have nothing to say about the garbage. We put it in the bin and the collectors remove it. What happens in Detroit? Is it just littered across the city? Must be a basketball thing or something. Since basketball is banned in Vegas, our garbage is in order too I guess. Maybe it's something like the weather 'Sunny day today isn't it? Did you see that hamburger wrapper float down the street'". Just then Foo stopped and listened to Justice with a confused look on her face. One of her bodyguards walked up to her and explained. "Oh I'm supposed to bad mouth my opponent!"

After thinking for a minute Foo began "Justice, I hope you are ready for the match and beating of your life! Your head looks just like that of a field mouse and I am going to bop it so hard, you'll be witnessing next week early! Blind eye of Justice? You bet! Your head will be bopped so hard your eyes won't be able to see for days!" Hoping she got the trash talking right, Foo headed off to relax and train for the match.

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FrizzleHobbs was escorted back to the changing rooms where he immediately discarded his disguise. He noted the SHOCK and AWE of everyone who witnessed the transformation. Nobody had suspected a thing. He hung the whistle up, and threw the bloody whites into the laundry hamper for Grin-22 to sort out at his convenience. On the clipboard he drew a basketball play that looked suspiciously like a penis.

Hobbs couldn't help but think he had been robbed. His fool proof plan to masquerade as FrizzleFry had failed some how. It turned out dressing as a superhero did not a superhero make. Not that Frizzle was his superhero of course. He hated Detroit and all that they stood for. He nursed his sore head. Could he sue? Mannequin Sketches certainly thought so as he rolled backwards and forwards on his skateboard.

"Clear a Dickpunch is a banned move! What a Puissant move that was!"

Hobbs was just about to leave the arena entirely when he witnessed LittleBunnyFooFoo destroy Justice with the trash talk.

"Way to go Thumper. You really told him..."

Perhaps Hobbs could book some boxing lessons in with her, just in case someone else dropped out or no showed and he could go 0/4. A very respectable record in most boxing circles.

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Grin watched on with shock and awe as the majestic form of Assistant Coach Coach FrizzleFry transformed into the weedy nerdling that was Hobbs, right in front of his eyes. Hobbs threw his clothes towards the laundry hamper, less than 2ft away from him, as hard as he could and sighed as they failed to even reach the rim, falling into a lame puddle barely past his fallen arches.

As he watched Hobbs grasping his pen with both hands to make crude markings on his clipboard, Grin had to admit that he was surprised this dumb boxing competition was still going on. After he had stopped trying and let Justice beat him out of pity, he was sure everyone would lose interest but there were still people watching, and even people masquerading as other people just to be part of the show. That was impressive; a word not often associated with Mike, caveated as it must be on account of the long established Summerlin dorkery and desperation to be involved in just about anything.

Grin made a mental note to pop by and congratulate Mike on his success. Maybe he wouldn't Skidmark on the doorstep this time either. Maybe. 

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Alina’s last fight was quite the mystery match.  After a number of delays approaching the ring she saw a man who appear much taller and bigger calling himself ATHTHITHTANT COATH FRIZZLE FRRRRYYYYY! Aka Frizzle Hobbs.

When the bell rang Frizzle Hobbs came running out of the corner like a bat out of hell.

She threw a few punches he went down and when he came up she hit him with a good one that caught him right in the throat.  MikeTyson claims -The ref hasn't even spotted the illegal below the belt shot from Alina.  What the fuck?  The ref was damn near kissing his balls; surely if there was a shot below the belt he would have called it.

Now they tell her that Gnoch will be her next opponent. 

Right Hand Man Of Euphoria, the one and only Tom Cruise impersonator, the one and only that will get a tattoo of anything on his body for only a single credit and the one and only who would give you a Quad if you defect and join his family.

Alina just shook her head. What in the fuck has she got herself into now?

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"Press, mafia media, people, I'm grateful you've all accepted my invitation here, to watch me do stair climbs in this sauna. The work never stops, even as I attempt to sweat out the last few pounds needed to make weight for the big fight. If you're squeamish about nudity, grow up, and if you're not, get a pair of sunglasses, because I'm hot as hell, baby. 

Johnny-McIver may have beaten my right-hand Skidmark but we'll chalk that up to a lucky win. Skid is the best of the best and you don't get by him in a clean fight. Naturally, it was Skid who chose not to fight clean, given his inherently aggressive and volatile demeanor as a member of the mafia basketball contingent of this community. I'm proud of him and will avenge his disqualification with a tremendous victory, the likes of which will be remembered for as long as I keep talking about it.

Nobody puts one past the Buddha of Ball."

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Hobbs wrapped his arms around LittleBunnyFooFoo's shoulders. He knew she was good for this fight. She'd taken an extra Boxing lesson at Hobbs Library so there was no way she could lose this one, especially against an old man judgemental bookworm like Justice. Hobbs had it on good authority that Justice was so old and decrepid the had to wear a white wig in his day to day to life. The man looked ridiculous and If Hobbs had learned anything in his thirty-three years on Earth he knew that looking ridiculous was a ticket to failure.

"You see Bunny, you've got to THUMP him really hard in the face area, or the torso area."

Hobbs went into the sathchel attached to mannequin Johnny Sketches and pulled out a clipboard with drawings on showing where to hit. He had a colour chart also to represent how hard and how fast to hit.

"See here? Aim here! Simple really. Also hit him really hard." 

Hobbs was filled with pride at his competitor, and with Hobbs excellent coaching he was sure this one was in the bag and went to find Mike Tyson to gloat.

"MikeTyson, I'd like to place a bet of $5 million dollars on Little Bunny taking the double-you in that there ring behind me. Whaddya say partner?"

Despite his less then stellar record, Hobbs was sure he'd prove the naysayers wrong with this most excellent prediction. The money would soon be in the bank, and he'd be happier and richer man.

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Iron Mike lets out a high pitched laugh. This would be like taking candy from a baby. Trained for the rigours of pugilithm in a LIBRARY! That is ridiculouth. We both know LittleBunnyFooFoo would have got knocked out in the previouth round if only Daiquiri has kept her compothure. 

"Hobbs you are simply the worst gambler I know. I am happy to take that action! As I thuthpect you are well aware due to a complicated sponsorship deal with the church of Squishy I am unable to profit from this venture. Therefore when I win I will gladly put your $5 million back into the prize pool for our overall champion!" 

Iron Mike grimaces. 

"Now friendth Hobbs, I trust you 100% but thousands wouldn't, so if you would be so kind as to put your stake for the wager into my fatathtic tips bucket for thafe keeping it would be apprthiated. In the unlikely event of a library trained fighter taking the victory I will return to you $10 million" 

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Ian woke up on the morning of the fight with a smile upon his face. He hadn't made an appearance at MikeTyson's Gym in Detroit but that was largely due to the fact that he'd sworn off the place since the week of BricktownCL (GRHS). Business had of course occasionally taken him in to Mug City after his oath of never returning, but, he tried his best to stay away. After all it wasn't very nice people-esque at all to walk around with bruises from the Muggings - especially since he was slated to soon fight twigs - a man whom Ian had come to admire and respect more and more as the weeks passed in to months of knowing him. 

No, instead Ian had spent his time on treadmills, mindlessly hauling folks out of jail on his back, and valiantly flinging sticks of dynamite at the Forts of TylerDurden. He had recently taken to Fat_Horse riding too in the hopes of getting both him and the horse in to better shape. Ian could sometimes be seen dancing the ElectricBoogaloo maniacally with...ElectricBoogaloo, and could even more frequently be seen taking The Illuminati's pet dog GabeTheDog for long runs throughout the Windy City. 

Yes, Ian woke up on the morning of the fight feeling prepared indeed. Making his way to the street that had seemingly shut down all other operations for weeks now due to the intense boxing conversation happening there, Ian stepped up and cleared his throat; ready to talk some smack about his West Coast friend. 

"I'm gonna break this guy like...well, like a twig(s)! Gonna hit em so hard he'll be seeing planets for days! I'm gonna outbox him so much that when we're done, I'll be inside of a box and he'll be outside of a box! I don't think that even makes sense that's how PUMPED I am for this fight!" 

Ian spit into a conveniently placed spit-bucket and dropped down right there in front of everyone to do some push-ups. 

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Ladieth & Gentlemen (& as yet to pay for his bet, frenemy Hobbs) you are in for a treat tonight. In our 4th of July boxing spectacular we have 4 fights of the highest quality in the quarter finals of our Boxing Competithion. Before we move onto our pictureth of perfetht pugilithm I would like to take this opportunity to celebrate with the thousands in attendance at the JFMAST Stadium and the millions watching at home Independence Day. Senor EduardoCojones has already got the mug city celebrations going down at the Lounge throwing cash around like its nothing! Gracias Senor Cojones.

A hugely expensive & hilariouthly accurate VT plays to celebrate all things American.

As the video fades the camera cuts to Iron Mike in his customary chair in the studio.

"On this day of days, in which we celebrate the independence of the most ridiculous country on earth, let us take a moment to be thankful for the privilege we have in Detroit, to be playing mafia basketball freely & aggressively amongst ourselves,& whilst cities like Mad_Hatter's Philadelphia get razed to the ground following a series of calamitous auths and errors. May we last to see another one, while those who follow the righteous path of traditional crewleading fall & flounder around us, completely seperate of ourselves and what non-existent influence we impose on this community."

A close up of Iron Mikes face with a single tear forming in his eye before he continues.


Iron Mike pauses to regain his composure.

"While brave young mafioso like FrankCastiglia use a dictionary to translate Italian paragraphs into the inboxes of a community who struggle to string two sensical sentences together in English, we stand proudly outside of the fray, taping our giant wieners to our legs during ball games, to avoid them slipping out of our baggy shorts. I am so proud to call each and every member of Mug City by brother or sister. The rest of the USA is so lucky to bask in our reflected glory & nowhere is our glory more obvious than during our fabulously thuctheththful boxing competitons."

The venue lights dim & a huge high pitched "LEETS GET READY TO RUUUUUUUUMMMMBLLLLLLLLLLE" booms across the stadium.

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Hobbs barged his way back into Mike's commentary booth ignoring the feedback loop that generated. Citizens and visitors of the JFMAST Arena and general public were used to Mike causing several audio distress so this was nothing new.

"Sir, if you check your bank account you'll see a tip with the value of 5 and some zeroes has made it into your account. I'm a man of my word and I believe you can have zero complaints about this Mike."

Hobbs also sipped a note to Mike at the same time that simply read

"Life Partner and Tyndicate member Alina guarantees the bet value. Probably.".

Hobbs hoped it was true. There were still some legal technicalities to bumble their way through but he was fully confident his team would resolve it. He took his place in the stands awaiting the action beginning. All his finances were tied up currently in boxing and syndicates, otherwise he would also back twigs to smash the nice right out of Ian 'Illuminatiated' O'Keefe. Hobbs had helped twigs remain fresh and nimble with a few games of chess, and had very kindly gone 0/3 for those games as well to give him a confident boost.


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Frank was making his way through the crowd at the arena after losing another ten grand on betting, not fully understanding the differences in odds when suddenly he hears his name. Turning his head, Frank mumbles “Hai ragione, la maggior parte delle persone qui manca di buon senso.” before slipping his brimmed hat onto his head and pushing through the crowd to go work on making his money back through a gentleman who owed a debt to him.

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Iron Mike is shocked as Hobbs crashed the commentary booth, the feedback loop is painfull, the thousands in attendence at the JFMAST arena begin to hoot and holler. A odd 'Boo' can be heard to ring out.

"What the thuck is going on...Hobbs my freidnth. I aththume you are here to pay the balance of $4,950,000 still outstanding from your bet on your chosen life partner Alina Excelleth timing my friend."

Hobbs slips Mike a note that he hands off to his reading geekth. Said geek confirmth that Alina is going to settle the balance after her fight, Mikes mind is put at ease.

Iron Mike keeps the show moving.

"Ladieth & Gentlemen our first fight of the evening is up next. In the red trunks we have representing the North Side of Chicago. The destroyer of Toby the collosus, the dickpuncher of FrizzleHobbs. The most recent lottery winner & lady / life partner of friendth Hobbs....ITTTSSSSS Alina"

In the blue trunks we have representing the Climax Crew of Paradise Las Vegas, with victories over Conqueeftador & Jarrick to boast of, the credit cruncher himself, IIIIITTTTSSSSS Gnoch"

"To cover this epic battle for the thousands in attendance & millions watching at home, please welcome guest commentator Hobbs..."

Iron Mike shoves the microphone into a startled looking Hobbs' hands before he can protest.

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Hobbs blinked as the microphone was thrust at him. He spluttered like Void at a 'Spaghet-together' as it was handed to him. He was not ready for such an occasion, he was only there to make sure Mike understood that the bet deposit had been placed. He heard the chorus of Boo's in the arena and frowned. Were they booing him or chanting chanting Boo-urns?

Hobbs snatched the microphone to take over the announcements. He was very unprepared for this. It was a tough fight to call. On the one hand, Alina had engineered a win using a nefarious dick punch to defeat FrizzleHobbs, but then Hobbs had hoped to add Alina to his Syndicate in order to take an equal share of the most recent lottery win. In that regard she was now is unwitting life partner.

Hobbs picked up Mike's cuecards and began reading with as much enthusiasm as he could muster at nearly 10 PM.

"Alina hails from New Orleans and is sassy southern belle. She is a proud member of the Hobbs Lottery Syndicate. She's also a self-confessed lover of Hobbs, and President of the Hobbs fan club. All good things and my money is on her folks. Don't forget she spends most of her days in and out of various bars on a one woman drinking spree. She's had more bar fights than Headcoach has had hot dinners. IT'S ALINNNNNNNA."

On the other hand there was Gnoch. World renowned Goblin. Fellow Las Vegas member, and Right Hand Man to Climax. There wasn't a lot Hobbs knew about Gnoch, so instead he ran off a cue card handed to him by Mike Tyson:

"For his most recent birthday @Giorgio-Espositio had bought Gnoch a training dummy to practice his moves on. Gnoch once threw a boomarang that never returned, and now lives in constant fears that one day it will come back. Gnoch grows his own Basil just so he has something to talk to and prove that his life has meaning by providing carbon dioxide to plants." 

Weird. He didn't take Gnoch for a horticultural expert but there was no way the cue card would lie.

"That's right, Gnoch has a herb garden and that's a very sustainable and worthwhile thing to do and he should be applauded not mocked. In fact I think Gnoch would all like it if we sent him messages and flowers and shared our gardening tips..."

Hobbs shut up under a glare from Mike. Both competitors were in the ring and it was time to get under way. 

Round one:


Hobbs pushed Mike away to continue the commentary

Round two:


Round three

"Ahhh that's better. Both competitors are tiring. Alina is trying a new tactic now. Instead of going for the face she's going for his hands! NOT HIS HANDS. OH FUCK. Alina is trying to rip Gnoch's gloves off to break his fingers! HE NEEDS THOSE TO GARDEN WHAT THE FUCK, REFEREE WHAT ARE YOU DOING? STOP STARING AT THAT TWERKING IMPERIUM IDIOT AND REF THE FIGHT."

It was too late. Gnoch had thrown in the towel. He couldn't afford to not have his hands in full working order, not when it was time to prune the Squashes to get them in tip-top condition for competition season. 

Hobbs felt bad for how it ended for Gnoch though so he tried to soften the blow.

"Alina is the winner! Another huge success for the Hobbs Lottery Syndicate...!"

Hobbs looked around at the sad looking Gnoch. A true champion of the people. He decided to do some consolation commentary.

"Ahem... but let's not forget, the only reason Gnoch lost is because he was definitely attacked by fourteen people on the way over here in what was clearly a very nice, very evil orchestrated attack. He could handle fourteen easily, but Alina being person number fifteen...?  It's a Hard-Gnoch-Life, for him".

Hobbs yawned and threw the microphone back at Mike. This was all much for him and he needed to go lay down.

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Alina, Alina great fight can I talk with you a second.  It was Howard Cosell  again asking Alina for a interview.

Yes Howard but please make it quick, I need a drink.

What are your thoughts about advancing in the competition so far?

Well never thought I would get this far.  It’s been one incredible journey, definitely out of my comfort zone. 

Seems like you have establish a relationship with the great Don Hobbs.

 Howard I am a proud member of the Hobbs Lottery Syndicate. But a self-confessed lover and President of the Hobbs fan club, he is still dreaming. Also to set the record straight I’ve had two fights in a bar.  I kicked the shit out of two drunk, ill-mannered, disrespectful men who thought they just could take advantage of a woman, plain and simple.

Fair enough Alina is there anything else you would like to say?

 I would like to congratulate Gnoch for a exciting fight and I wasn’t going to break his fingers.  Of course I would like to thank MikeTyson and the Corktown 112's for sponsoring this event.

Thank you Alina, again congrats on the win.

Alina walks away thinking she needed to send Gnoch a credit to have Alina tattooed across his chest. 

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Which sounds more plausible: a physical specimen such as myself lost in a boxing match, or I was given bad steroids that weakened me because Hobbs couldn't stand to see another Las Vegan reach such heights as I was flying towards.

I'll let you all be the judge.

Takes out a knife and cuts the word ALINA into his chest, like the battle-hardened man that he has become. While he didn't win the entire competition, it did make everyone respect him more. Maybe next time one of these things took place, he wouldn't be ranked in the lower half of the entire grouping. Maybe they would consider him a top five monster that he had worked so hard to become.

Thank you all for the opportunity-- Gnoch, out.

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Iron Mike was hugely impressed by the ruthlessness on show from Alina. In the previous round she had landed an illegal 'dickpunch' move on FrizzleHobbs & now was trying to break a poor guyth fingerth. What a competitor.

"Hobbs I am feeling super PUMPED. Thank you for an exthellent guest commentary. Once we had sorted out the volume issues you did thuperbly"

Iron Mike watches the interview of Alina by Howard Cosell & makes a note to have the man killed for failing to raise the issue of covering Hobbs's bet on LittleBunnyFooFoo. As Alina was Hobbs thindicate partner / life partner Iron Mike was still confident that she would pony up the cash eventually.&nbsp;

"Congratulations to Alina who is our first competitor to reach the final 4. She will square off against the winner of our next match. Up next we have Mug City Maestro, our finest HeadCoach up against the now single eared New York Capo Johnny-McIver."

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Johnny shows up to the press conference and sees his ear. He grabs it puts some seasoning on it and then eats it shocking everyone in attendance.

"Ears are a great source of protein. Don't worry my doctor and my medical staff have told me that my ear will eventually grow back and eating it is one step towards recovery or some shit. Anyway, Headcoach the king of Detroit but not king of the ring. I'm gonna outbox you and knock you out. He's too fat to be boxing I feel insulted that I have to face an opponent like him isn't he like way overweight for this weight class? I saw him at the weigh in the other day he had candy bars in his pockets."

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