As every one knows, there are only three rules in cage match fighting:
1. This outfit may not be worn. Not ever. Not by anyone. It makes people cry.
2. Any and all references to Marty Feldman, particularly those which represent Mr. Feldman as engaged in eating a corndog, automatically end the proceedings; all points are declared null and both teams forfeit.
3. No member of either team may refer to a member of the opposing team as 'bitchtits'
4. Children with unsightly goiters are automatically barred from the proceedings.
Round one was a tornado of tears, saliva and torn underthings! Both champs threw the rulebook to the winds. First blood was Chaucers', following a remark made by a sneering Dante describing the corndog eating prowess of Marty Feldman-seated nude on the toilet after having a bath!!!
Dante fell to the floor, bleeding profusely from a self-inflicted blow to the head to dislodge the tainted image! Still, he managed to rebound and taunted the Murderous Modifier by quoting from the poetry of William Shatner while assaying a crushing series of holds!
When the bell rang at the end of the round with no points awarded, both champs retreated to their corners and tagged their seconds.
A suspiciously spry Dame Barbara Cartland tossed aside her walker and vaulted the top rope amid a buzz of shocked exclaimations and discussion from the audience. Cries of 'Juice! Juice!' and loud neighing did nothing to daunt Bab's spirits as she strutted rounded the ropes, taunting the audience with a dazzling glimpse of her mature trimmed box (buxus nojesusno glauca var. 'Stinky Boatman')
Sleek as a panther and twice as deadly, Edith Head emerged from behind her horn rimmed specs and took her stance. This jungle cat had murder on her mind and a roll of nickles in her trunks!! We think.
And at the end of round two Edith Head was pinned by the steely yet tender, caressing gaze of Dame Barbara Cartland, a gaze which seemed to undress her with tantalizing deliberation, pausing only to admire each new quivering discovery of flesh so new to the hand of woman yet begging for her touch! First point - Team Dante!
Round three began with a spirited showing by the Margarine and the Armadillo handbag as they indulged the crowd with their mastery of the scientific techniques of this ancient sport. Neither opponent showed the slightest sign of letting up for a moment and the moves just kept on flying!
Armadillos use of the deadly Square of the Hypoteneuse brought the crowd to its feet!
But the Margarine turned the move around at the last moment and executed a Kentucky Back leghold, pressing the Armadillo handbag into the horrifying yeasty effervesence of a Full Liter GruntCan! Technical pin, round three closed with the point going to Team Dante!
Although late into the ring at the beginning of round 4, Gregory Chaucer shook off this faint start and rapidly gained ground with a punishing Rear MickSlap that sent Dante reeling onto the canvas.
Pausing only to pass a mysterious signal to his team, Chaucer then knelt to deliver a crippling Whirling Dutch Star to his downed opponent!
Some in the audience were too stunned to react.
A reddened Dante staggered to his corner where his teamates attempted to revive him!
Meanwhile Team Chaucer hurriedly assembled an ominous object in the center of the canvas. When Dante staggered to his feet, still game to go, the trap was ready to spring! Like a greasy hotdog up the ass of a Mouseketeer Dante was plunged into the gaping maw of the demonic device and the door slammed shut! A propane feed was produced from the foul depths of the Armadillo handbag and suddenly Chaucers evil intentions were made clear! He was about to deliver the coupe de ville!
Dante was about to meet his Maker in the lethal TEXAS FART BARBEQUE!!!
HOW WILL IT END?
WHO WILL TAKE HOME THE BELT?
WHERE IS THE BABY JESUS?!