Be warned, what you’re about to read is not for anyone of a serious disposition, due to its extreme silliness! Its either the greatest piece of genius since quill was first put to parchment, (or finger to keyboard), or a huge steaming pile of manure!
THIS THREAD HAS BEEN CLASSIFIED BY THE BRITISH BOARD OF FORUM CENSORSHIP (BBFC) AS UTTERLY BONKERS!
AMBER AMALGAMATED & WHEELCHAIR PRODUCTIONS ARE (ALMOST) PROUD TO PRESENT:-
Haye vs Harrison – A Tale of Terror & Flatulence
Chapter One:- The Press Conference
The conference gets underway with Promoter Adam Booth formally announcing the fight between David Haye and Audrey Hepburn. Oops, I mean Audley Harrison!
After a few minutes, a commotion breaks out as London’s two premier villains, Doug and Dinsdale Piranha barge their way to the podium and take centre stage.
Booth protests at the interruption, but is carted off by Doug and his head nailed to the floor. Dinsdale proceeds to outline his vision of the fight, now that he and his brother are taking over.
Many in the crowd are fearful and wonder why the on-duty policeman in attendance aren’t dong anything to apprehend the two villains. They are in fact on the run from the Scrubs, from where they have escaped, having been sentenced to 400 years imprisonment for crimes of violence.
Accompanying Doug and Dinsdale is a lad holding a tactical nuclear device, he in fact is the head of Scotland Yard, the brothers have paid him to turn a blind eye to the proceedings, and act as their bodyguard.
The brothers do have a connection to the fight game, their father Arthur Piranha, a scrap metal merchant and TV quizmaster had married Kitty Malone, who was at the time an up-and-coming East End boxer.
Dinsdale now states that the fight is being moved to Wembley Stadium, Harrison is pleased at this and asks if the ring could be big enough to fill the whole pitch. Doug, having returned from nailing Adam Booth’s head to floor states that the ring will be the size it’s always been, and Audley looks on with disappointment. Harrison isn’t too worried though, he has some rather cunning plans which he hopes will ensure victory on the night…
Once the fighters are given a microphone, Haye proceeds to cast aspersions about Audley’s lack of fighting heart, turning to Harrison and saying, “You can’t beat me, you just haven’t got the balls.”
Not to be outdone, Harrison looks at Haye and says, “Well what’s this then?” and proceeds to flop his severely undersized scrotum on the table for everyone’s inspection!
An on-form David quips, “Call that a scrotum, we need a bloody search party to find it, your balls are so small!” The assembled media all roar with laughter, and Audley goes red with embarrassment, causing his scrotum to further shrink. Tucking his testicles back into his trousers, Audley gives Haye a glare, and sits down.
The press conference has some more surprises in store, especially when Mr Jose Silly-man, president of the WBC turns up and parks his brain (actually his arse), next to big Audley.
After a few announcements, Silly-man gets up and addresses the assembled crowd from the podium. In his right hand he’s carrying a grubby brown paper bag, from which he pulls a belt. This belt isn’t the usual green and gold of the WBC, it’s brown and gold. Silly-man turns to Harrison and announces that the WBC are recognising him as their inaugural WBC ‘Flatulence’ Champion, due in no small part to his exceptional ponging stench when in the ring.
The belt is of the scratch-and-sniff variety, the usual pictures of former champions replaced with pictures of Harrison, which when rubbed, emit a highly toxic essence, one which accurately re-creates the smell whenever A(nal)-Force is in the ring.
A special WBC ‘Flatulence’ commemorative gasmask is also available, and will be issued, for an exorbitant fee, to all in attendance at the fight. Silly-man knows he’s onto a winner here as the fans at the fight will have to pay up, they won’t be able to stand the Audley stench. In partnership with the Piranha bothers, the price per gasmask is set at three-quarters of a million pounds per unit! Purchase to be enforced on pain of death, or a nailing of one’s head to the floor.
Audley grins from ear-to-ear, and brandishing his newly won belt, further goads Haye with the fact the he’s also the unbeaten WBF Champion, and therefore will be bringing two belts to the party, as opposed to Haye’s one. This does not go down well, especially when Harrison uses the belts angle to try and get a bigger purse.
“We’ll give you an extra 25p per belt,” says Dinsdale Piranha, “Now shut it or I’ll set Doug on you.” A chastened Audley sits back down looking decidedly uncomfortable.
However, not wanting to be outdone by the WBC, the WBA supervisor, Dame Celia Molestrangler along with her valet, the strange and mysterious dwarf known simply as Spasm, approach Haye with a grubby brown paper bag of their own.
From the bag they pull a new shining and magnificently be-jewelled belt which is known as the WBA ‘Can’t-be-arsed-to-think-of-a-name-but-its-another-sanctioning-fee’ belt. David accepts the belt and immediately writes out a cheque for the fee, rumoured to be for a staggering 75 pence.
Also announced is a change to the time-honoured custom of the weigh in. As heavyweights are not required to make a weight, a ‘smell-in’ is to replace the more traditional pre-fight custom. Details of which are to be revealed on the day itself.
A video link to the brothers Klitschko is then established, and reveals two very worried faces. The two champs, after paying homage to the Piranha brothers, proceed to wish Haye all the best in his fight with Audley. They’re hoping that a money-spinning fight can be made once Audley is out of the picture. What’s worrying the Klitschko’s though is the fact that should Harrison somehow win the fight, they may have to face him.
Having met the intensely menacing Audley in person before, the two brothers are concerned that they may be on the wrong end of a hiding should they have the temerity to share a ring with A-Force.
Audley gives them a Sonny Liston-like glare and the two brothers turn white and break the video link. Haye looks a little shocked at this unexpected turn of events and gives Harrison a quizzical look. Harrison merely smiles at Haye and winks.
Another gatecrasher then appears, it’s the new British Champion and author of the book, ‘Hello Sailor’, Derek ‘The Fairy’ Chisora. Dinsdale tries to stop him from taking centre stage, but Derek removes his jacket to reveal a ‘Spiny Norman’ t-shirt, causing the previously menacing villain to crap himself and exit left. The pong emitted is rather pungent and Haye quips, “Let one go have you Audley?” To which Audley replies, “That was nothing, I’m the champion farter and I’ve got the belt to prove it!” Harrison proceeds to wave his new WBC ‘Flatulence’ belt under Haye’s nose causing him to turn an odd shade of green.
Chisora, having taken centre stage, proceeds to address the assembled multitude, and Haye in particular, stating that once David has won the fight, he’ll be given a beating by the new British champ. Haye tells Chisora to go and kiss hiss arse, and then bares his posterior to the pretender, who promptly plants a sloppy wet kiss on Haye’s left buttock!
Having been known in the past to snog his opponents, Chisora then proceeds to plant Audley one right on the kisser, and dances off into the sunset carrying his condoms and pink handbag! One grizzled hack remarks that John Ruiz and Chisora would make a very happy couple, and wonders if they’ll be tying the knot anytime soon!
Audley and David then attempt to stand nose-to-nose for the cameras, but Haye is taken aback at Harrison’s bad breath. “Bloody hell, you could cut through bank vaults with breath like that!” remarks Haye, as Audley collapses in a burst of tears and sobs to Haye that he’s going to tell his Mummy! The two are separated and go their different ways, they won’t come face-to-face again until the newly instigated and highly unusual ‘Smell-in’.
Chapter Two:- The ‘Smell-in’
The big day has finally arrived, the training is over and the serious business is almost upon us. The ‘Smell-in’ and the fight are to take place on the same day, and at midday the first part of the day’s events gets underway.
A crew from HBO have made the trip over to cover the fight, and to everyone’s eternal horror, Max ‘Codpiece’ Kellerman is among the team. His tenure as commentator is not to last long however as an enraged Jim Watt-the-f**k-am-I-on-about? spots him and begins to belt the living crap out of Max, to the amusement of the press and all present.
Apparently, the decrepit Scotsman is annoyed at Kellerman’s taking of his title of ‘World’s Crappiest Commentator’, and wants revenge. Fortunately for Max his injuries are not life threatening, but to relief of everyone present, he won’t be able to commentate. HBO then wheel out their ancient, wrinkled and fossilised relic, Larry ‘I remember the dinosaurs’ Merchant!
Audley and David appear for the ‘Smell-in’, and there is to be a major shock in store for all concerned.
Removing their garments, the two fighters reveal two very different physiques. Audley is all well chiselled muscle and in great shape. David however is a different story.
Haye removes his clothes and a gasp goes around the room. “What the hell is Tony TNT Tubbs doing here?” Asks one reporter. It seems Haye’s new training regime has not gone to plan.
With Adam Booth having to spend all his days apologising to Doug and Dinsdale, for being a little squirt, and having had his pelvis screwed to a cake stand, he hasn’t been able to train David.
Having turned down Ricky Hatton’s advanced ‘fatness’ training, the team have gone with the recently retired Danny ‘Pie-face’ Williams, who has put Haye onto his patented ‘Kipling Cake’ diet. Haye ain’t worried though, he reckons he can beat Harrison no matter what shape he’s in, and looks quietly confident as the rules of the ‘Smell-in’ are announced.
Dinsdale Piranha steps up to the podium and gives the low down on what’s about to take place. The two fighters are to be given the chance to see just who can create the foulest possible stench from the human rectum. To assist in this the two protagonists will both eat their way through a vat of Heinz’s finest and foulest baked beans, followed by a plate of evil brussels, known as the ‘sprouts of death’.
Audley isn’t impressed and states that he’s perfectly capable of shitting himself without stimulants, thank-you very much. A glare from Doug forces him to change his mind however.
Harrison and Haye proceed to eat their way through the gastronomic disaster, accompanied by the sounds of breaking wind and a foul, rotting stench.
Eventually the fart-making food is consumed and the judging is to begin. Haye is first to fart, and the smell promptly causes one judge to expire on the spot. One up to Haye then.
Audley then steps up and releases a torrent of wind so pungent and powerful that not only does it cause the other two judges to keel over stone dead, it also blasts the roof off the building, causing it to go into orbit around the moon!
Having been invited to watch the proceedings, Frank ‘Small Penis’ Warren is killed hilariously when one of the roof slates detaches and slices his odious head clean off!
A huge roar of approval is heard from the crowd, and even David Haye embraces Audley for causing the demise of the cretinous former promoter. The phone then goes and Audley is summoned. On the other end of the line is Queen Elizabeth who informs Harrison that he will now be known as Sir Audley for his tremendous services to humanity in ridding the world of the turd known as Warren.
What a day it’s been so far, Audley may have won the ‘Smell-in’, but the real fighting is only hours away. As he leaves for his hotel, Harrison begins to look worried at the prospect of facing Haye in the ring. Will he be there or will he bottle it?
Chapter Three:- The Preliminaries
The big night is now here and the ring is filled with the usual dignitaries and brain-dead plebs, and an OAP can be seen entering and taking the MC’s microphone reading to make his announcements.
Unfortunately for Adam Booth, he’s in the poo again. Having misheard Dinsdale’s instructions regarding the MC, he’s laying down at ringside having once again had his head nailed to the floor. Dinsdale stands over him and yells, “I told you I wanted the MC to be Michael Buffer, not an old duffer!”
The incompetent MC, The right honourable Mr J. Peasemold-Gruntfuttock, wearing the costume of a pantomime horse and riding a unicycle, then leads the crowd into a minute’s chorus of cheering in remembrance of the death earlier in the day of ‘Small Penis’ Warren. The usual minutes silence is deemed not be appropriate when everyone’s chuffed to learn of the promoter’s rib-tickling demise.
The cheering stops and the MC announces the ringwalk of Audley ‘Skid Mark’ Harrison. As he is dragged to the ring in chains against his will, the music being played is The Scorpion’s ‘Wind Of Change’, in deference to the oxygen starving smell created by Audley.
But wait. What’s this? The crowd are NOT booing Audley as he makes his way to the ring! Surely a boxing first this, but there is a reason for it. The crowd are all wearing their WBC ‘Flatulence’ gasmasks and are therefore unable to boo!
Climbing into the ring and shaking like a jelly, Harrison sits down on his corner stool, which has been converted into a commode for the occasion. The first casualty of the evening is then revealed as Mr Colin Hart of The Sun. Audley released a huge torrent of squirty liquid poo upon entering the ring, covering the unfortunate Mr Hart, who had to be removed for urgent hospital treatment. A watching reporter instantly dubs poor Colin as Colin Fart, much to the merriment of the other media men in attendance.
David Haye then starts his ringwalk to sound of an old Queen track, ‘Ride The Wild Wind’! Very apt for the occasion. As he gets into the ring, Harrison looks like he’s about to cry and further erupts from his oversized posterior.
With both combatants in the ring, the MC begins in announcements, but is interrupted in mid flow by Audley. Brandishing a piece of paper in a manner that would make the late Neville Chamberlain proud, he proceeds to say he’s got a note from his Mummy and can’t fight.
With Dinsdale Piranha turning to Audley and threatening to split his nostrils open and pull out his liver there and then, the cowardly Harrison backs down and let’s the MC get on with his announcements.
To the horror of all, Dave ‘Where’s me guide dog?’ Parris is one of the judges! The BBBofC had been keen to have Parris humanely destroyed, but where thwarted by the courts, and so he will judge afterall.
The other judges are Air-Marshall Sir Hugh ‘Kill the Japs’ Forster and former Prime Minister Margaret ‘Going slowly bonkers’ Thatcher. The referee for the contest is one Mr Edna Mussolini, a fabled former amateur chicken sexer and part time stoat gobbler.
The MC announces that fight is being sponsored by “Huggies, Pampers, the Chippenham Brick Company, Andrex and the Whizzo Chocolate Company – try their new chocs, ‘Crunchy Frog’, Anthrax Ripple’ and ‘Cockroach Cluster’”
The fighters are then introduced…
“In the Brown Corner, resplendent in a brilliant-white, terry-towelling nappy, the WBC ‘Flatulence’ Champion and former undefeated WBF champion, weighing (with the aid of laxatives), a trim and ready 160lbs, known for his record-breaking flatulence the world over, former chief eunuch, president of the egg marketing board, former Miss World, and official Lord High speaker of garbage, the newly knighted, Warren-terminating, Sir Audley ‘Skid Mark’ Haaaaaaarrison.”
“Wow! That’s a shocker”, screams Sky commentator Ian Darke. “All the wind breaking has resulted in a small and likely very speedy Audley, could that give Haye problems?”
Haye is then introduced to the crowd…
“In the red corner, weighting 400lbs and munching a Kipling cake, the undefeated former Cruiserweight world champion, making the second defence of his WBA crown, the future slayer of the Klitschko brothers, Pipe-smoker of the year 1861, president of the ‘Tony TNT Tubbs’ appreciation society, the future Archbishop of the Balls Pond Road, and former concubine to Napoleon Bonaparte, Daaaaivd ‘Hayemaker’ Haaaaaaye!”
“Those Kipling cakes given him by new trainer ‘Pie-face’ Williams could cause the newly rotund Haye to have problems finding Harrison with his ponderous speed. Are we in for an upset?” Wonders Ian Darke as the two fighters get ready to meet in the centre of the ring.
Meeting in the centre of the ring, the two boxers come together for the final instructions from the referee. Audley does his best to look menacing, but Haye can’t stop laughing. In fact, he laughs so much that we wets himself, and has to be taken back to the dressing room for a wash and a new pair of trunks.
Chapter Four:- The Fight
Haye is soon back and the first bell sounds. Haye advances and begins to pummel Harrison relentlessly, lefts and rights, straight on the jaw, but Audley will not go down. Every time he hits Harrison, Audley’s body bends backwards 70 degrees, and then springs forwards, but he just won’t fall! The referee calls time however and demands Harrison changes out of his lead-weighted diving boots!
The second and third rounds are notable for Audley Harrison’s attempt to break the world land speed record. Running away from the advancing Haye like a gazelle on steroids, Audley manages to avoid any punishment for both rounds.
In the corner between rounds legendary trainer Danny ‘Pie-face’ Williams continues to stuff cakes down Haye’s throat. Audley for his part sits on his converted-from-a-stool commode and proceeds to fill bucket upon bucket with stomach-churning quantities of excrement.
The bell goes for the fourth and Haye is in no mood to tolerate further cowardly running from Audley. David step in and lands a beautifully timed right cross that spins Harrison round-and round on the spot. Audley rotates so fast that he begins to wear a hole in the canvas and sink beneath it!
The fight is stopped and Harrison retrieved from underneath the ring. The ring is then repaired, and after a delay of around an hour, the fight continues.
The two once again square off in the centre of the ring, and suddenly, as they part from a clinch, Haye goes down from what seems to be a phantom punch. He gets to his feet but looks very woozy, running backwards from Harrison to see out the round.
Replays show an exceptional quiver from Audley’s left buttock, followed by an almost invisible plume of smoke rocketing up Haye’s right nostril. Audley’s scored the knockdown with poo-power! As there is nothing in the rules regarding knockdowns caused by rectal emissions, the knockdown is allowed to stand.
Coming out for the fifth Harrison begins to attack. Even though he’s shaking like a jelly, he tries to take the fight to Haye, who is still wary of Audley’s patented poo-power punch, and backs off. Another round for the ‘Skid Mark’ then.
During the sixth round both fighters take a break and spend most of the round clinching, evoking memories of the former champion John Ruiz. A time out is called when the referee orders Audley to change his nappy, the ref’s not happy about the brown colour it’s slowly turning. Harrison replaces his soiled garment and continues.
Returning to the corner at the end of the round, ‘Pie-face’ Williams come up with a stunning idea to win the fight. Taking the Vaseline usually used to cover up cuts, he stuffs both of Haye’s nostrils full of the stuff, thus rendering Audley’s poo-powered punch useless.
Before the seventh round can get underway, a member in the crowd decides that he’d quite fancy a fag. He makes the mistake of striking a match and BOOM!, one part of Wembley stadium is ripped to shreds in the resulting explosion. Audley’s noxious rectal emissions and naked flames do not mix!
To prevent any further leaks from Audley’s posterior, the referee inserts a concrete cork into the rectum of Audley in a vain hope of keeping in the stench. This is a stratagem doomed to failure however, the cork is ejected at terrifying speed, hitting the poor referee in the forehead and exiting out the back of his skull.
A new referee is called for and Mickey ‘I drive a car not a’ Vann is soon in position to enable the fight to re-commence.
The bell goes for the seventh round, and Haye with his Vaseline-filled nostrils manages to get close enough to Audley to knock him down seven times in the round. Amazingly Dave Parris scored the round to Harrison 10-3!
Unfortunantly for Audley Harrison, his propensity to poo whilst fighting is soon to be his final, fatal undoing. The commode he’s been sitting on during the rounds has to be emptied via a pump into a huge 50 foot high drum, located next to his corner. The drum is smoking and the poo bubbling and the drum is almost full.
Coming out for the eighth round, Harrison craps himself once more as Haye advances, and is soon caught by a terrifyingly powerful uppercut from Haye. The force of the blow lifts Audley clean off his feet and up into the air, where the thermals in the air from all his farting carry him aloft and into the drum of poo.
A huge splat is heard along with a mass of hissing and gurgling as Audley drowns in his own faeces. A hush goes around the ring at the sudden ending, culminating in Haye once again retaining his crown. The WBC award him their newly minted ‘Uppercut’ belt, cunningly crafted from Harrison’s own excrement.
Interviews are undertaken and the arena eventually cleared, save for the vat of poo. During the night, sounds are heard from the vat and Harrison bursts his way out of the container. He hadn’t drowned after all, somehow surviving the excremental episode.
As he towels himself down, he mutters to himself how he will still be champion, and vows to get Haye back into the ring.
One day it’s bound to happen, the indestructible Audley just can’t be stopped, and whether it takes him until his late 80’s to be crowned champ, he’ll keep trying.
You may well tremble at this terrifying pugilistic prospect, you have been warned!
Just a quick footnote. As this thread will almost certainly win the inaugural 2010 Most Bonkers Thread of the Year Award, I would ask that my prize, a monogrammed ‘Budweiser Boxing’ straightjacket be forwarded to me at the Home for the Hopelessly Baffled & Deranged. Where I can be found, strapped to my wheelchair, sitting by the window and dribbling! Thanks.
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