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

The tension in the JFMAST Arena is at an all time high as the fighters of our next bout begin their walk to the ring. The comment from Johnny-McIver that 'HeadCoach is too fat to be boxing' has gone down like a shit sandwich with the well educated Detroit local crowd in attendance tonight. Everyone knows Coath isn't fat, he is cultivating mass & is a girth god. A few 'Booo's' (100% NOT Boo Urns) ring out from the crowd as Johnny begins his walk to the ring but are soon drowned out by Johnny's legion of adoring female fans who appear to be chanting 'Muff Diver McIver' Johnny takes his place in the ring. 

The venue lights cut out. Panic is about to break out in the crowd, but this is all part of the show. HeadCoach has appeared. Spotlights shine down & it appears that he is riding in towards the ring on a thucking elephant. 

"How the thuck did he get that thing to the arena, and how the THUCK is it managing to carry his weight?" muses Mike.

The mug city crowd goes absolutely batshit insane and the chant begins to ring out

HEAD COACH, HEAD COACH, HEAD COACH

Iron Mike has to stop himself from joining in with the chant.

HEAD COACH, HEAD COACH, HEAD COACH

The girth god is lapping up the adoration of the crowd & signals for more, more, more.

HEAD COACH, HEAD COACH, HEAD COACH

The volume increases, the atmosphere inside the JFMAST Arena is like nothing ever seen before or likely to be seen again.

HEAD COACH, HEAD COACH, HEAD COACH

Iron Mike is on his feet. Thuck impartiality, he was going to cheer for the king of mug city.

Headcoach climbs down from his elephant with the grace of a ballet dancer & waves to all corners of the crowd before entering the ring. The referee reminds both fighters that he wants a clean fight, they touch gloves & the bell rings.

"Friendths I think we are in for a real treat this evening. We are about to witness a masterclass from the buddah of boxing. I have personally been drugging training Coath for this fight, his aggression levels are off the charts"

Johnny snaps out a jab towards Coach but he moves quickly out of reach. Coach counters with 2 firm body shots to McIver's torso. McIver looks winded but Coach doesn't press the advantage. Johnny moves in and throws a hard overhand right but coach juke-steps out of the line of fire. He is dancing around the right with surprising speed for a big man. He throws 3 stiff Jabs into Johnny's face, the BANG CRASH WALLOP rings out loudly as the crowd oooohs & aaahs.

The bell rings for the end of round 1. Coach does 20 push ups in the centre of the ring. What a BEAST. He is giving McIver the evil eyes & I couldn't quite hear the exchange of words but it sounded suspiciously like Johnny said to Coach "That's why I thucked your bitch you fat motherfucker, WEST SIDE, BAD BOY KILLAZ" 

I am sure for years to come mafia boxing competition scholars will argue over which part of the provocation so enraged Coach, weather it the reference to Mrs Headcoach's honour or the misguided belief that Coach wasn't the perfect physical specimen but the reaction was instantaneous. Coach charges across the ring with speed usually reserved for the all you can eat restaurant. He throws his head into McIvers face with a vicious headbutt & proceeds to bite his other (only remaining) ear clean off. The referee & security team are straight into the action. It takes the ref & 11 security men to pull Coach from McIver. This fight is certainly over. HeadCoach leaves the competition via disqualification.

"For the millions of viewers at home we have THIS EXCLUSIVE IMAGE of Johnny-McIver after he was further disfigured by Coach's ear attack. The man will never look like a normal human being or wear sunglasses again, what a shame, what a mug city like exit for Coach"

Iron Mike can't help but feel partially responsible for this outburst due to the sheer inhuman levels of anabolic steroids he had been feeding to Coach via his ThumpremeTM Brand 'sports recovery drinks' but the show must go on.

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The camera cuts back to a crestfallen Iron Mike in the studio. It wasn't supposed to be like this, his dream of training a Mug City boxing champion laid in tatters. 8 brave mug city competitors all eliminated from the competition. Not that there is any shame in getting beat down, we built a whole city & culture on the basis of being mug positive. Iron Mike had to admit his own hubris had played a starring role in his downfall. The cocktail of HGH, Anabolic Steroids & Cocaine which would have almost certainly been fatal to lesser men which he had been feeding to Skidmark & @Headcoch had almost certainly contributed to their animal like behaviour in (twice) disfiguring Johnny-McIver.

Iron Mike plasters a grin onto his face & shoves the bad feelings deep down inside.

"How can we top what we have just seen friendth? Ah I know exactly how. The upcoming clash of GFC's. Representing the windy city, the very nice but recently showing a dark side, alleged murderer of one of our previous competitors (GRHS), the victor over MidpoinT in our previous round & exthellenth guest commentator Iiiiiiitssssss Illuminatiated. His opponent, the Danish Destroyer himself, all the way from the strip Las Vegas, this competitor has recently been followed by allegations of chess geekery, Iiiiiiitttsssssss twigs."

"This commentary for this fight will be handled by stalwart guest commentator & recently promoted legend, ladieth gentlemen & friendth I hand you over to BBB."

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“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to ringside, I am a smartly dressed man wearing a fedora and this is gonna be a cracker”.

"The Hobbs lottery syndicate sponsors this week’s fight. The only lottery syndicate to help you know what it feels like to lose your arcade/ slot machine business to MollyM in a divorce. So, if you want a bit of that action, sign up today”.

“Our first competitor making his way to the ring. Weighing in at one and a quarter great Danes, fuelled purely by Danish pastry and pork. He is the undisputed chess champion of Las Vegas. I give you the tantalising thinker himself “Twigs”.

A burst of music fills the arena 

“Here he comes down the ramp, he’s got on red trunks with a Danish flag on the front, red gloves and white boots. He’s looking, good folks. The Las Vegas residents here in attendance are showing their love. He’s pausing now taking in the adulation of the crowd, posing now, hands in the air. He’s loving every moment.

The crowd are singing along to his music now

Hidee hidee hidee hi
Hode hode hode ho
Hee dee hee dee hee dee hee
A hidee hidee hidee ho

“What an occasion this is. We are getting into the big thing. The atmosphere is palpable. Twigs climbs into the ring and is dancing on his toes. He is keeping loose. MikeTyson is having a few words having dragged himself away from the blonde in the front row. Even the Detroit faithful are on their feet applauding. Dressed in black and mourning the defeat of the heroic HeadCoach they need to find themselves a favourite. Could it be Twigs, could he become a true people’s champion? All I know is we are going to find out soon because here comes @Illuminatatied”

The music blares 

“Illumin is marching down to the rind in time with the music, man he’s got his game face on. The boos rain down upon him from the Las Vegas contingent. Of course, why wouldn’t they show their displeasure after the beating midpoinT received from this self-proclaimed very nice person? Behind me, high in the stands, I can see the figure of Hobbs, obviously only able to afford the cheap seats after yet another split from a lottery life partner”

He seems to be chanting at Illumin.

“Weeee know what! We know what you are! Weeee know what! We know what you are!”

“Illumin is marching down to the ring now, surrounded by police officers. Are they for his protection or ours? I have just had a note passed to me from Bobs_Burgers. Illumin would like you to know that Thursday’s dance class with Imperium is being moved to Friday and instead Bingo will take place tonight and will be held by Alina. Oh, and also he definitely didn’t murder anyone else. He’s having some difficulties with his communications systems and has been cursed by the Gods. So ye I hope you got that CH. I might go along to that Imperium class. I wonder if it’s open to the public”

“Sorry back to the fight. Illumin has removed his white dressing gown and slippers. Underneath he is wearing split colours. The left side of his body is white, and the right is black. An interesting choice. The bell rings and we are off to the races.”.

“Twigs is sitting back and waiting for Illumin to bring the action. Illumin is straight in with two jabs and a hook. Twigs springs back to his left and catches Illumin with a quick crossover. Twigs is showing a thinking man’s style here tonight. Keeping away and moving fast. Illumin is chasing harder than I thought he would. He’s looking like a man that’s had enough and we all know what happens then. The bell rings to end the round”

“An interesting first round. I have been joined at my commentary desk by Void. Well, sir what do you think of that first round? Your man seems to be keeping his distance”

“Ye BBB, Twigs has got this covered. He knows what he’s doing. You don’t get to where he is without being a man with a plan. So, trust in Twigs”.

“Thank you void for that comment. The fighters are back on their feet now and we are ready to go. The bell sounds. Illumin is chasing hard and getting into the face of Twigs. Twigs still looking cool, calm and in control. Noting to separate the two fighters at this stage but I won’t expect anything less at this stage of the competition. There’s a massive roar from the crowd as Illumin catches Twigs clean and knocks him back. We get a standing count but nothing major. The referee asks Twigs if he is ok to continue. Twigs replies with a nod and a firm I AM TWIGS. There’s a massive roar from Hobbs up in the cheap seats. The round concludes in another stalemate”.

“So, for something special, for those of you listening, I won’t be able to do it justice. But we now, have a live performance by Imperium. Here he comes now, woo unbelievably, his JFmast cheerleader outfit still fits. Look at that strut, what a guy. Those thick thighs and buns of steel make my beefy boi jump with delight. Imperium climbs into the ring through the middle rope. There are whistles and cheering from the crowd.

Music begins to play

Imperium begins to get down. Twerking and showing the world what that booty does. The crowd is getting down now as well. Woo, I’m on my feet, grooving. Look at him go. Void is getting funky and trying to convince Daiquiri to dance with him but she’s having none of it. HeadCoach has gotten over his loss and is boogying hard as his wife jumps the barricade to join Imperium in the ring. Even Hobbs is letting loose and swinging mannequin sketches around. As I dance, I spot Cobb in the crowd and nod to him. The music slowly fades out and Imperium disappears up the ramp with the Coach’s wife. Most likely for a yoga cool-down class.

“Wow, that was impressive. I haven’t experienced anything like that since I was up late the other night taking LSD and watching an overweight horse live his best life. I suppose we better get back to the action. The fighters are on their feet. Twigs cries I AM TWIGS one more time. Illumin has his game face on, some say a face you only see once in your life. Illumin launches himself at Twigs. He begins to lay in heard shots. It looks like he’s had enough. Twigs is backing up, but Illumin is relentless. He catches his with one final big shot and down goes Twigs. He’s out cold. Void and Daiquiri quickly jump the barrier and drag twigs out of the ring. Illumin was looking like he was going to go for the kill. The boos rain down on Illumin and he roars at the crowd. He grabs a microphone. You people will learn to respect me as a very nice person. Even if I must beat it in everyone single one of you”

The crowd are stunned. Some of the Chicago uppers hop into the ring and lead Illumin away. Mike, we need better security. A lot of people are just walking in.

“Well ladies and gentlemen it looks like we have another semi-finalist. I hope you continue to join us for this exciting journey and with that, back to the studio”.

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What an exciting round of boxing it was so far. Hobbs was devastated twigs had been knocked out by a man called Ian even after 'grooting up' and trying to flex his tree trunk arms. Unfortunately it hadn't worked. How did anyone lose to an Ian? Mr Illuminatiated the alleged very nice person was showing a real evil streak. Hobbs enjoyed the chaos of it all.

"He murdered a mute you know. Apparently he asked her to speak up in a meeting and she didn't say a word so he shot her! Very nice, very evil if you ask me."

Hobbs went down to the changing rooms to make sure his prime fighter LittleBunnyFooFoo was ready for her fight. She was taking on a man in a wig so really it should be an easy one, but in Boxing anything could happen.

"Someone send a note to Alina to make sure she made the rest of that $5 million payment. Papa Hobbs is going to have victorious steak for dinner tonight."

Hobbs ran his hands together with glee imagining what he'd do with his money. He'd probably place a hit on Mike Tyson if he could get away with doing it anonymously. He'd need tips from JFMAST's deceased mascots on how to do that though so that wasn't going to happen.

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Iron Mike grimaces. "We certainly do need to beef up security BBB (Pun totally intended) thince no members of mug city will be in the quarter finals we can provide security for the ring. Who would be insane enough to take on a group of Athletes in their prime? A group of juiced up Adonis' with kick ass JFMAST branded leisure wear? NO ONE, that's who!"

Iron Mike is feeling PUMPED following the great fight between Illuminatiated & twigs

"Thank you brother BBB for your continued exthellent commentary & contribution to this thucceththful competition. To close our this evenings card up next we have a tasty Las Vegas on Las Vegas contest with Thupreme Court leader Justice taking on the creature from Iron Mikes childhood nightmares LittleBunnyFooFoo. As an extra special treat for our viewers at home we have the one, the only, the recently disqualified competitor, the man who made mug city poththible, the girth god, the buddah of ball, the man who sets up mid war to impose mafia bathketball on a not quite ready nation. The friend, the brother, the one time very sweaty (& girthy) lover. Iiiiitttssss Headcoach."

Coath piles into the studio fuelled by wine & rage. This is going to be a thucking disaster muses Iron Mike.

"Now Coath before you begin your amazing commentary I just wanted to make the thousands in attendance & millions watching at home on pay per view very aware that neither Hobbs nor Alina have yet paid for the $5 million bet on LittleBunnyFooFoo which Iron Mike would gladly have matched & donated any winnings to the competition winner..."

Iron Mike stares deadpan into the camera.

"I am shocked that a recent lottery winner & a man who brags of an entourage of 180-200 bodyguards (Pencil necked dweebs one & all) can not afford a paltry $5 million for a charity bet. For shame...Erm I mean for THAME. Now over to HeadCoach for our closing fight of the night."

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Coach grabs the mic like a chicken dinner, hocks a loogie into the row of seats in front of the press box, and begins his commentary.

"IIIIIN THE RED CORNER...

Though our fighter might serve as Left-Hand to Hobbs - a man who couldn't punch his way out of a battle royale at the childrens hospital -  she's turned the tables on her mentor by actually succeeding at the tasks put before her and navigating all the way here, to the quarter finals, while barely breaking a sweat. She cast aside Mug City's own Henson in round 1 like Coach putting back a cheeseburger, she brushed off Daiquiri in round 2 like Coach at a hotdog eating competition, and now she's here in round 3 looking like Coach at an all-you-can-eat buffet...

It's LITTLEBUNNYFOOFOOOOOOOOOOO!

And IIIIIIIIIN THE BLUE CORNER...

Our blue corner champion smacked Grin-22 around like a dominatrix at the Las Vegas weekly get-together, and now finds himself in unprecedented territory for a competitor untrained by Detroit's intense haymaker-factory, charging into the quarter-finals like MikeTyson at a hand-out for denstristy coupons. He lives by the law, rules by the law, and knocks his opponents around as far as the law allows...

It's JUUUUUUUSTIIIIIIIICE!"

The bell rings and our competitors are out of their corners and ready to rumble.

"We're off and away, both of these fighters are looking locked in and as aggressive as ever. They're straight into windmilling here, throw a joint and a couple tall cans in and it's like two English stag parties facing off in Amsterdam. The hits are landing left and right, or up and down if you will, and the crowd is going crazy, the sound of fist-glancing-across-face is echoing across the arena! Justice and LittleBunnyFooFoo are clattering each other at a standstill, windmilling-arms revolving at breakneck speeds, with blood splattering out of their respective noses decorating the ring like a crime scene. And just like that the bell rings, and it's back to their corners.

'Keep at it, your revolutions-per-second is just like we trained', one corner is screaming, while the other yells, 'Remember the tale of Short Robert, dwarf-king of the bareknuckle circuit, change it up, change up the rotations!'. The bell rings, it's five past eleven, and we're off for round 2. Our fighters stampede into each other like rebels without a cause, it's all blood, guts and glory. LittleBunnyFooFoo is rotating those arms as majestically as ever, Don Quixote would've been buried 6 feet deep within moments if faced with these staggering blows, but Justice looks poised, he's eating these blows like Skidmark eats ears.

Justice switches it up, he's windmilling the other way, LittleBunnyFooFoo looks shocked, she looks confused and outraged, as Justice steps in,  sending the red fighter into their corner, a ludicrous barrage of upper-cuts are flying in, it's only a matter of time...OHHHH, LittleBunnyFooFoo is down, the ref gets in the way, he's standing between them, he's counting it down - one, two, three - Bunny is dazed, confused, Justice is windmilling at air, there's too much momentum to stop - four, five, six - can Bunny recover from this? It looks all too much, he's taken a  nuclear-upper cut right to the chin - seven, eight, nine, TEN - IT'S ALL OVER!

JUSTICE WINS! JUSTICE WINS BY KNOCKOUT!

There you have it, folks! Justice, slayer of Grin, moves on the semi-finals! What a fight!

Back to you, MikeTyson, for the post-fight analysis."

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Alina headed down to the arena to check out the fights between Illuminatiated vs twigs and Justice and LittleBunnyFooFoo.  She was happy that Illuminatiated won his fight against twigs but sad that the only other woman LittleBunnyFooFoo she believed left in the competition had lost.

Alina didn’t know how she developed this newfound relationship with Hobbs but it was starting to get quite intense.  She is not the one to talk family business but Hobbs left out some very important realizations such as selective mutism. Then he sends her a note about a 5 million dollar bet with a designated drop location that’s yet to be found; now she had MikeTyson on her back.  She had enough already.

Listen up guys.  Unless you personally talked with me and I commit to a bet, I owe you jack shit.  My checks say Alina not Hobbs. I don’t mind fronting Hobbs but that’s a personal transaction between him and I.  If he makes a bet with you, bottom line it’s his responsibility.  Now I know I am out of my league with you guys but don’t fuck with my money.

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Iron Mike was hugely impressed with the recent fight between Justice & LittleBunnyFooFoo. Clearly the long hours training down at Iron Mikes Muscle Maker had paid dividends with the exthellent 'windmill punch' technique on show. Not to put any disparagement on Justice's amazing victory but Mike had known it was coming. Hobbs had been trying to train LittleBunnyFooFoo in a damn library. Ridiculouth!

"Big thanks to the girth god for that stunning commentary work. You are a thuperstar of the ball & pundit worlds"

The camera switches from the studio to a HUGE GRAPHIC OF THE NEXT ROUND. (YES CLICK HERE DUMMIES)

"That concludeth tonight'th action. But do not despair we will be back soon with our semi finals. We are down to the final 4 from our original 21 entries (22 if we include Imperium) Congratulations to all of our semi-finalists. The final four will be back for our semi-finals on or around the 12th of 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 to BBB HeadCoach & Hobbs

"Ath a reminder to everyone for the themi finals. Trash talk is not encouraged, it is MANDATORY. I need to see you dealing some emotional damage to your opponent prior to the physical beatdown, get personal, insult their mother, go WILD with it. I would expect all of our semi finalitht to be be paying a visit to 'Iron Mikes Muscle Maker' in Corktown for a training session in the build up to the fight."

"Goodnight & God Blethth."

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Alina couldn’t worry about what MikeTyson thought anymore.  Hobbs will just have to straighten it all out himself; the money was in his Dealership account.  She knew nothing about who he might owe.

She had to concentrate on her next fight. It was with, from the Bronx, Johnny-McIver, dem call him Bushmaster, owner of the Uptown Laundromat in Harlem.  He claims to be an ordinary forensic scientist, secretly using his speed to fight crime and find others like him, whatever the fuck that means.  He’s got a lot of hate in his heart with his quest to find his mother’s killer.

Alina knew she was in trouble for sure.  But then she thought he couldn’t be all that bad if he liked Bugs Bunny and Leave it to Beaver.

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Johnny looked at the bracket and was shocked that he had to fight a woman. He went over to complain to Mike Tyson.

"What the hell is this? I don't hit no woman man. You gotta fix this man."

Johnny being the womanizer he is loved women, he talked to women, worked alongside women, and would never hit women. Especially someone like Alina he had felt a strange connection with her like that he had known her in a past life but couldn't figure out why. But then an idea came into his head he didn't have to hit her instead he could kick her. Even though boxing was his speciality during his time in prison he had been working out with a couple of good looking Brazilian guys one of them his prison boyfriend who he kept secret and didn't want anyone to find out about his brazilian prison boyfriend taught him kickboxing and capoeira while inside.

"And no just because Head Coach has boobs doesn't make him a woman."

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ahhhhhhh the great art of pugilism

Regulated under the stewardship of the 9th Marquess of Queensbury's rules, the sport of gentlemen and gentlewomen alike.

Count me in you tongue chewing maverick you!

DING DONG!

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Ian woke up on the wrong side of the bed on the day of the Semi-Finals. The goddamn hooligans that lived two blocks over had been shooting off fireworks which seemed to upset Fat_Horse so much that Ian could hear his neighs quite clearly all the way from his bedroom. Why Sue didn't make the horse sleep outside was still beyond him. Some of the springs in his mattress had begun to poke through, his allergies were running rampant and GabeTheDog kept barking incessantly at the noises from the fireworks. No, all in all, it was not a very peaceful night of sleep whatsoever for Ian "Illuminatiated" O'Keefe. With a prolonged sigh he dragged himself out of bed and looked at himself in a mirror. He looked old. He slowly brought himself out to the Streets where they were still discussing this tournament. 

"Hear I have to go fight Justice now eh? Maybe if he did his job properly I wouldn't have to, isn't he supposed to handle the Justice himself? Well that's fine. Noble honorary men have no room in this ring except to be left crumpled in a pile of their own sweat and blood which is exactly what I intend to do today."

Ian pulled a gavel out from his suit and banged it against a nearby trashcan. 

"Justice will be served."

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Stepping back into the arena, Justice noticed a rather lackluster attempt at trash talk from Ian. Who? Yeah Ian.

"You best believe I've been cleaning these streets up, and I'm about to clean this ring up. Justice will be served you're damn right. You know what they call my fists? Judgement and Punishment, and you're gonna feel the might of both you no good miscreant sissy boy"
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Iron Mike was feeling PUMPED up for the semi finals of the boxing compethithion. 

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

The crowd goes wild. Iron Mike is looking confident, swole & vathcular in a smart white shirt his biceps bulging like Hobbs' ego. The camera pans in & Iron Mike 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 welcome to the semi finals of this contest. We have 2 scheduled fights for your delight this evening. Thpeaking of Evening here is FrenchieHorn to sing our wonderful national anthem..."

The camera cuts to the spotlight highlighting the centre of the ring. The ring is empty. FrenchieHorn is nowhere in sight.

Iron Mike repeats into the microphone "HERE IS FRENCHIEHORN TO SING OUR NATIONAL ANTHEM..."

The ring is still empty.

"Thuck it you can't get the staff these days. I will do it myself." 

Iron Mike steels himself & lets out a eardrum bursting "O SAY, CAN YOU SEEEEEEEEE"

A huge chorus of boos rings down from the thousands of PUMPED UP fans in the JFMAST arena. 

"Thucking ingrateth" mouths a crestfallen Iron Mike.

The venue lights dim then flash back into full power & the camera cuts to Iron Mike in the studio joined by semi finalist (& soon to be mortal enemy of Mikes unless he sees some compensation or even ACKLOWLEDGEMENT that his horse has been murdered) Illuminatiated

"Ian thanks for joining us in the studio for a guest commentary spot for our upcoming match. Its looking like an absolute belter. We have Chicago's own Alina who has bravely battled her way to the final 4 from the 1st round of the competition Vs the man who has given blood, sweat & two ears to be here tonight Johnny 'Muff Diver' McIver. The scourge of Mug City himself...We are no doubt about to witness a great battle...It will be EPIC!"

Iron Mike grimaces at the thought of Johnny-McIver beating Mug Citys finest in the previous rounds & going on to win the whole competition. Total thucking disaster muses Mike.

"Take it away Ian..."

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Ian wore a buttoned up shirt and dress slacks over the shorts that he'd be boxing in and boy did he look sharp. Like a fine wine he seemed to just keep getting better and better with time. A few grey hairs had begun to sprinkle his otherwise perfect hair - but he had been assured repeatedly that it gave him more of a rugged, intelligent look rather than making him look old.

He looked over at the man who had put together this entire shindig; Iron Mike Tyson himself - who had recently been parted from what Ian had heard was quite a wonderful equine. Ian knew all about wonderful equines having watched Fat_Horse trollop around Chicago for what felt like forever now. He wasn't entirely sure what a trollop was even but hey nobody could read his mind. 

"MikeTyson, thir, I mean sir - I've heard some disturbing rumors lately in regards to some farm animals. I don't quite know all of the details yet, but I can wholeheartedly and without a doubt in my mind say this with certainty... Whatever happened it was probably Hobbs. AAAANYWAY, on to the fight! In the RED CORNER! We have one of the elite no-eared perhaps often called "swooner of the Sallies" - the ladies man himself, Johnny-McIver! And in the BLUE CORNER! Chicago's own Alina!!!"

The crowd went nuts and Ian could have sworn that he had seen FrenchieHorn in the stands despite her missing what would surely have been an excellent rendition of the Anthem. The boxers tapped gloves and Johnny "Muff Diver" McIver looked uneasy. Word was that he was apprehensive of hitting a woman especially with so many eyes watching. The bell had barely rung before Alina started in on her attack.

"Holy shit look at her move Mike it's like a fire was lit under her ass!" Ian glanced over to see if Mike appreciated the wordplay there. It didn't appear as if Mike had, at all. "Awh I'm just playing big guy but hot damn Alina is not!" Alina continued to unleash a flurry of punches that went mostly unblocked as Johnny stood there absorbing them without swinging back. One of his eyes had already been blackened and Alina didn't show any signs of slowing down. DING. 

"Wow Mike I'm not sure what this strategy here is but for a man with no ears at least it's good that he can't hear this crowd right now..." 

DING.

"And we're off with Round 2! Alina starting right back where we left off, right cross, right cross, left hook holy heck that looked like it had to hurt!" Johnny spit a puddle of blood out on to the ring and glanced up at the announcers table with a pleading look in his eye. How long could one man stand such a beating Ian thought to himself, forgetting momentarily that he was doing commentary.

"What a stunning start to this fight - Alina looks like she ate her spinach and got plenty of rest leading up to this fight!" As if on cue, Alina rocked McIver with a tremendous uppercut that left him wobbling. Not wasting any time Alina caught him twice to the jaw before slamming a right hook into the mans cheekbones. Johnny fell and the count began - but it didn't last. After a count to 5 Johnny stood back up just as... DING. End of Round 2. 

"WAKE UP JOHNNY USE YOUR HEAD!" Ian heard himself shouting. He secretly was hoping to face McIver in the finals rather than having to deal a beating to Alina. He chuckled momentarily, he still wasn't sure if he'd even make it to the Finals. 

DING.

"Well folks lets see if this gets any more interesting because right now McIver is going to be known moving forward as "McDiver" for the dive he is taking right now." One of the associate newscasters whispered in to Ian's ear. "I guess nevermind on that last statement as he is already going around in some circles known for his diving abilities, although entirely different context."

Johnny must have heard his comments somehow because as Alina wound up for what looked like a finishing blow, the man leaned in quickly with his forehead and met her fist directly and with force. Alina's gasp could be heard throughout the stadium as could the sound of something crunching. She dropped to the mat and immediately the ref started counting. She could easily get up, Ian thought, but she chose not to, cradling her clearly shattered wrist. EIGHT! NINE! TEN! DING DING DING! 

"Jesus Christ Mike, the man didn't even throw one punch... Hopefully Alina's wrist will be alright - she was on a freaking tear there! I can't believe I'm saying this, but... JOHNNY MUFF DIVER MCIVER IS OUR FIRST FINALIST!" 

Ian shrugged off his buttoned up shirt to reveal a well oiled chest.

"And now it's time for me to go serve Justice."

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The camera zooms in on Iron Mikes 'What the thuck?' face as Ian slips out of his shirt, he had seen myriad horrors in an admittedly rough lifetime, but the sight of a greased up Ian was too much to bare. He swallows down the bit of bitter tasting vomit which had jumped from his guts to his mouth involuntarily. Mike is a fighter & fights to keep a composed facial expression.

"What a fight! What a interesting technique. Huge congratulations to the fella who struggles to wear sunglasses, the scourge of Mug city, the one the only Muff Diver Johnny-McIver for making it all the way to the finals!"

The crowd cheers & picks up the chant of 'Muff Diver Mc Iver'. The noise is deafening.

"Thank you to Illuminatiated for that scintillating commentary! Up next we have stalwart guest commentator & big beefy boi himself BBB who will be covering the bout of Illuminatiated Vs Justice. This one should be a cracker. Who will face off against Johnny-McIver in our finals? Stay tuned to find out..."

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"Welcome back ladies and gentlemen, I’m a beefy boi and tonight we are getting into the serious stuff so I am wearing my fedora as I am a serious mobster. The next match is a semi-final between the morally questionable Illuminatiated and Justice. Will today be the day that Justice finally catches up with him or Illumin evade justice once again? All I know is we are about to find out soon".

Music starts

"Here comes the man himself now. He’s walking powerfully down to the ring, a man on a mission, ready to evade justice at all costs as usual. He’s wearing his Yin/Yang colours. He’s posing for some photographs. The boos are raining down from the crowds. Hobbs is chanting his little song again. He passes the Detroit mob, and they boo loudly. All are wearing two black armbands. One mourning the loss of a friend. The other mourning the unjust and barbaric loss of the greatest horse ever to horse. Neglected at the hands of Chicago, left to burn alive. I’m sorry for the break in my voice, I just imagined this poor defenceless creature’s last moments of sheer panic, racing around the stable as the flames encroached upon it. Its neighs of desperation and pain are being ignored. The sheer terror in its eyes. At some point, it must have known it was hopeless. Takes a BBB handkerchief and wipes his eyes. I’m sorry folks we will get back to the action. Illum is prancing around the ring now. We are waiting for the arrival of his opponent".

"The crowd fall silent in anticipation. Waiting. There seem to be some technical difficulties folks. Hang on I have just been given a note from Bobs_Burgers the timeshare LHM who has been recruited by MikeTyson to pass notes. I guess he just wants people to be involved. See ya later Bob, thanks. Ok, so it appears that MikeTyson has a very special surprise for us. Well for Illum especially. Bob looks like he’s passed the message onto Illum. Illum is staring at the ramp waiting. He’s shadow boxing to keep loose".

A burst of music enters the arena.

“What the hell is this, wait a minute. No, it can’t be. It is. ITS MIDPOINT. Its MidpoinT. The man who was left was beaten to a pulp. I had heard rumours that he was a changed man. That he had found Jesus. That he was a new man that he was much more like a Cobb or an Bianca. I don’t believe it. He’s on his knees at the top of the ramp. I think he’s praying. He’s marching down to the ring dressed in black and with a bible in hand with a gold bookmark hanging out.  He’s waving to the crowd. Of course a fan favourite he is taken in their adulation. He’s pointing out Daiquiri in the crowd. He’s stopped and is talking to @Cannon who I’m sure wouldn’t believe this if he hadn’t seen it for his own eyes. He’s reached the bottom of the ramp now. He’s been handed a microphone. Ladies and gentlemen, I will fall quiet and you can listen to Middy the missionary preach".

"Before I begin I would like to hold a moment of silence to remember the loss of IronMikes horse. Gone to the big racetrack in the sky too early. May the culprits burn for eternity in hell.  I just want to congratula-la-late you...." after a stutter Mid spaces out. What must be side effect of the beating he took, he seemingly snaps back to reality. "It was a good fight you won sadly, I guess they must of started putting steroidsin cheeseburgers and that gave you a giant strength advantage."

"Impressive words. He’s making his way over to me. MidpoinT, MidpoinT. Stick on a headset. Join me. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than can calling this match with the man who kicks the shit outta Hobbs. Good good. You have it on now. Speak into this bit, oh ok a lick for good luck sure. Middy I hear some music playing. Take it away,

Music plays

Here he comes Justice while it can't be denied he has fought his way to this match we can deny that for being educated enough to hold a gavel and serve justice. If shit-talking had an age limit Justice hopefully is under 18 years old cause his shit-talk is childish. Looking ready to go Justice heads toward the ring". 

"A fact that recently has been brought to our attention is Justice has been undergoing special training and the gavel he always carries with him weighs over 25lbs. Explains a lot and here I thought he was just lonely at night." this is shaping up to look like it could be a hard-fought battle tonight. Illosernated somehow still in it but Justice is here with determination and ready to serve justice. Because as we all know Justice is a dish best served cold, that’s why you spell it using just ice".

"Thank you very much Middy, excellent work. A true natural. We are nearly ready to go hear folks. The noise deafening and that’s not just because I’m sitting beside MidpoinT. The Chicago mobsters are cheering. Bobs_Burgers is looking nervous; he’s wiping his face on his apron. Alina is ranting away but nothing new there but she does have an utterly fabulous hat. Hey MidpoinT, what do you think of my very cool and trendy fedora? all the cool serious mobsters have them".

"Very cool and trendy, I was thinking about buying one because I am very serious. But then I remembered I enjoy booze, hookers, cocaine off hookers, and laughing so I bought one for my driver so he can be cool".

"Ahh ok, thank you Midpoint".

"MikeTyson calls for the bell and we are underway. Illum and Justice are both out of the blocks hard and fast. Both throwing huge hammer blows to each other. This one might not last long people. Illum is on top. With clobbering blows. Lefts and rights. The Chicago crowd baying for blood like the monsters they are. Illum is looking good. Justice is stumbling around. I ref steps in for a standing count".

"Justice has answered the count. We are back at it. Illum is in close now with heavy body shots. Justice is shaken. The ref steps in but as he does he’s caught with a masterful blow by Illum. And down goes the referee. What the hell man? The boos pour down. Illum raises his hands and returns to his corner where the Bobs_Burgers has now been replaced by ElectricBoogaloo. Justice returns to his corner to check the rule book. The referee is out cold. Iron Mike is too busy chatting to a blonde in the front row to have noticed. Oh, hang on Henson has stopped shouting at Sunrise for a few moments to catch Mikes’s’s attention to the fact the referee isn’t moving".

"Mike entered the ring stripped the shirt off the referee and put it on himself. There were whistles and cheers from some ladies for the brief moment Iron Mike was topless. Well, it looks like Mike is going to handle the rest of this fight himself. He calls both fighters back to the middle of the ring and calls for the bell. Illum comes out fast and catches Justice with two clean shots. His legs look gone. Illum hammers him with a big uppercut. Bobs_Burgers goes wild. What’s he doing back in the corner, where’s the other one gone. Mike steps in and sends Illum back to his corner while he begins his count. Wait where are you going? MidpoinT come back what are you doing? MidpoinT is heading to the ring. What on earth? He’s being intercepted by Bobs_Burgers. Oh damn, he’s laid out Bob. BOB NOOOOOO. The Chicago crowd are trying to intervene but the extra security Mike hired is stopping them. Oh, it’s ok, Iron Mike has seen MidpoinT. Wait a minute. Iron Mike has turned his back on Midpoint just as Chicago turned their backs on that beautiful horse as it burned alive. Bah Gawd. MidpoinT is in the ring and getting in the face of Illum".

"MidpoinT is looking down at his bible. He’s opening his bible and he slid on what appears to be set brass knuckles. He had them concealed within a square cut out within the bible. Middy looks up at the Illumitits and I can just about hear him say"

"Your defence has a bigger opening than your mother has between her legs." Middy throws a killer right hook that would make Neverland a real place, MidpoinT connects with Illumitaters jaw and has him wishing his dad used one of those condoms from a dispensary before his conception. Illminotawinner collapses with the words CockGoblin imprinted in his face left from the special plate Middy had made for the brass knuckles. Sliding and rolling out the ring, Middy laughs walking backwards up the ramp".

"MikeTyson has turned around and he’s bloody smiling and laughing. He’s helping Justice to his feet. He’s called for the bell. He’s making his way over here. He has handed me a prepared note. Ladies and Gentlemen, the winner of this match and the man making his way into the finals is Justice. The place is ready to erupt, Chicago is outraged, Las Vegas are delighted and Detroit well they are just Detroit. Today the JFMAST screw job has been born. A say that will live long in the memory. Has Justice truly prevailed?"

"MikeTyson has gone to talk to a pretty blonde, I’m going to feed the goats and I will leave you with this image. MidpoinT is walking back up the ramp laughing and smiling, the crowd going mental as this song plays out".

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After the doctor took care of Alina’s broken wrist she made her way out the lockers to attend the fight between  Illuminatiated and Justice. She was floating on cloud nine, not because of the excitement of making it this far but from the pain medication they had given her.

Alina, Alina may we talk to you a minuteOf course it was Howard Cosell again.

Hey Howie, how you doing? Make it fast.

Alina you have come a long way in this competition you must be really proud of yourself. Alina grabs the mic with her good hand.

Yeah, Yeah, Yeah let get this over with got a fight to catch.

Johnny-McIver congrats on the win.  You are truly the Bushmaster and have the hardest fucking head than any other man in the world.

Thank you, to all my fans and those who have supported me.

Thank you, Mr. Gill from Iron Mike’s muscle training for getting me swole.

And of course thank you MikeTyson and Corktown 112s for sponsoring this wonderful competition. It has been one exciting journey.

Alina drops the mic.

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Hobbs went backstage to offer his commiserations to lottery life partner Alina. With her shattered wrist their date night would not be having a happy ending after all. Hobbs was devastated. But not as devastated as the man in the corner of the room. He looked over to see Illuminatiated in the corner. His dreams were like burnt horse ashes in the ground

"I've got nothing left" Ian kept saying on repeat. The very nice, very evil man was broken.

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Iron Mike grins as he helps Justice to his feet. The JFMAST Screw job was complete. Given that the windy city had neither ACKNOWLEDGED or COMPENSATED Iron Mike for the fire related death of his finest racehorse, named Ironically enough 'Hobbs is a filthy arsonist' the screw job plan had been dreamed up & had come to fruition. Iron Mike does his best to plaster a look of professionalism onto his face.

"Well ladieth & gentleman our 23 initial competitor's have now been worked down to the final 2. Representing Las Vegas is Justice his opponent representing the big apple, the man who has given blood sweat & both ears for this opportunity its Johnny 'Muff Diver' McIver."

Iron Mike is frankly shocked that the competition was drawing to a close.

"Friendth we have an amazing final night coming up. A single fight on the card. A clash of the titans to decide who is the best mafia boxer (Aside from Iron Mike) Its going to be EPIC"

"The quarter finals will commence on the 20th 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"

"Ath a reminder to everyone for the grand final. (Not that you need it by now...) 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...Look how well it has worked for regular visitor Justice!"

"Goodnight & God Blethth."

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