Untimely #8 - The Big Fight

What a kerfuffle! What a furore!

For two fledgling fighters forging for glory,

With a flurry of fists, gruesome and gory,

In this Heffalump-Hardman-Bruiser-Babe Story!

One dances like an elephant, and stings like one too,

(He’s the Tiddlywinks Champion of Edinburgh Zoo.)

In his last major bout he was laid out in Round Two,

By a vicious left hoof from Gnigel the Gnu.

His foe is a featherweight who’s yet to be weaned;

No need of a gum-shield for this toothless young fiend!

He crawls round the ring, the scrappy wee chappy,

Snubbing shorts and tough gloves for bootees and a nappy.

The Pachyderm Pugilist parades the red corner;

In the blue the Newborn looks far more forlorner.

Eyeball-to-eyeball, awaiting the bell

For this Babe-on-Beast Ding-Dong, this hand-to-hand hell.

DING! DING! The bell rings and they meet in the middle,

And as they touch fists the tot titters and giggles.

Nelly honks, horrified, “What you chucklin’ on, Punk?”

If the toddler could talk he’d say, “Your ridiculous trunk!”

The mute little muppet snorts and guffaws,

And the dumbfounded crowd rise up in applause,

At the ticklish tactics, the peculiar plan

Of this pint-sized poppet, this diminutive man.

Thunderstruck Nelly, riddled with doubt,

Glances about him and wrinkles his snout.

He blinks with bewilderment and blushes bright pink,

But in the midst of his snivels, he sniffs a foul stink.

And so...

It comes to him whilst pondering, “What is that I smelt?”

The baby, in his giggling, has relaxed below the belt!

So trunky chops chortles as though he might explode;

The stench of baby’s ‘Rocky II’ has him totally K.O.’d.

Both fighters on the canvas, both out for the count

From the sucker punch of laughter; the tension starts to mount.

No punches thrown, no footwork shown, both boxers on the ropes,

The ref, slouched in the middle, has given up all hope.

The crowd get on the ref’s back, “C’mon sort it out!

We came to see a boxing match not a Ho-Ho Ha-Ha bout!”

The ref takes a spotty handkerchief and dabs his sweaty jowls,

Then leaps the ropes and swift elopes, throwing in the towel.

The bums on seats leap to their feet; they see the funny side,

They hoist the fighters high in joy and decide the match is tied.

The moral of this story is that everyone’s a winner

Especially when all involved make it safely home for dinner.