Good evening and welcome back to the Preparation H Sports Center here in beautiful Sun City, Arizona! I’m Gene Dobbs, with my co-host Stu Noodleman. We’re ready for the last fight of the night for GUMMA: Geriatric Ultimate Mixed Martial Arts! What’s on the schedule, Stu?
Stu: Well, Gene, the final fight of the night is a grudge match between Don “Shutdown” Trump and “Cryin'” Chuck Schumer. They’ve been literally dying to meet in the ring since just after the election of 2020 when Schumer lost his mistress to the fabulously wealthy Trump. Schumer called him a “Russian pussy-grabber” and Trump knocked his teeth out on the floor of the House. Schumer’s been screaming for revenge ever since.
Gene: “Literally Dying”?
Stu: That’s right, Gene. The doctors have given Cryin’ Chuck six months to live and Shutdown has promised to kill him tonight if Rudy Giulani doesn’t stop him.
Gene: Well, Shutdown’s pretty out of shape, but Cryin’ Chuck has been training hard, doing daily walks around the Atria Assisted Living Facility, pumping massive amounts of styro-foam and pounding gallons of Geritol. I hear he’s been dominating the shuffleboard court, too.
Stu: Okay! They’re coming out now… still coming… Don’t they make motorized walkers yet?
Gene: Now they’re being helped into the ring by their managers who look a bit concerned. Oooops… My bad. Those aren’t managers! Those are the Visiting Angels!
Stu: An ambulance is standing by, and I can see half a dozen medical technicians ready to go if needed.
Gene: They’re taking the paddles out, so maybe they’re expecting a little cardiac action tonight.
Stu: Chuck and Don have moved into the center of the octagon and Shutdown is giving Schumer the stink eye. Or he thinks he is. That’s the camera-man he’s looking at, but I guess his eyes aren’t as good as they used to be.
Gene: Trump has pushed his walker aside and is walking around the ring with his hands in the air shouting, “Make MMA Great Again!”
Stu: Boy is Cryin’ Chuck steamed, Gene. He’s threatening to take Trump behind the arena…
Gene: That won’t be necessary tonight, Stu! They’re cruising for a bruising on live TV! Now the ref is reading the rules… they’ve declined to touch hands… Trump is yelling something about how his hands are “Too yuge for Chuck.”
Stu: And Here We Go! Shutdown Don is wearing the red trunks with the yellow sweatshirt and Cryin’ Chuck is in the blue yoga pants with the red and white shirt.
Gene: Uhhh… Not so fast, Stu… Schumer is bare-chested for this match.
Stu: Really? I see an awful lot of red.
Gene: Look closer.
Stu: Well… Oh, Holy Mother of… That’s the worst case of shingles I’ve ever seen! That’s gotta hurt!
Gene: Damn, Stu. Your eyes are as bad as theirs. You might want to get out the binoculars and take a closer look at the Donald.
Stu: But it just looks like an ordinary baggy pale yellow sweatshirt! Ohhhh, crap… I see it now. That’s… that’s sickening!
Gene: That’s right, Stu! Shutdown’s bare chest looks like forty pounds of melted cheese!
Stu: Hand me that wastebasket… I think I’m going to barrrffff.
Gene: There’s the BELL and Shutdown’s moving aggressively toward the center of the ring! Still moving… almost there… You want some water?
Stu: Cryin’ Chuck is standing against the octagon, adjusting something in his pants. Here comes the ref. Apparently, a portion of ballistic diaper was sticking out. Now Schumer’s limping toward Trump. Uhhh… Who’s that in the wheelchair on the side of the cage, shoving something under the wire?
Gene: Looks like Nancy Pelosi. Is that a switchblade?
Stu: Not sure, but the referee is trying to wrestle it out of her hand. She’s a tough old bird… Owww! He really didn’t have to hit her that hard.
Gene: Cryin’ Chuck is wind-milling his right arm over his head, warming up his haymaker… He’s in a crouch now, waiting for Trump. And waiting… Looks like maybe he can’t straighten up.
Stu: Chuck’s no fool, Gene. Now he’s circling Trump with that piercing look in his good eye, a harsh stare that has plunged more than one Republican into abject terror. Trump is yelling “Russia THIS!” and pointing at Chuck. We’re in for a fight!
Gene: Here it comes! Cryin’ Chuck swings and misses! Shutdown counter-punches and misses! Schumer lifts his leg for a round-house kick, but his hip locks up, and now he’s standing on one leg as Trump advances… still advancing… here he comes… Schumer throws a brutal left jab left as Shutdown connects with an awesome hammer-fist
and… HOLD ON! What the Hell? Oh! My! GOD!
Stu: The fans at home aren’t going to believe this!
Gene: They’ve fallen and they can’t get up!
Stu: It’s a double knockout! The referee is giving them an eight count! And… This contest is OVER! The ref has called it a draw!
Gene: Here come Visiting Angels, rushing into the octagon with walkers, warm milk, and Inogen oxygen. Don has dropped his gloves and is taking out his mouthpiece. Ooops… his teeth, too! Schumer’s looking for his hair. Looks like he just put Don’s “yuge” glove on his head. Where are his glasses?
Stu: Joe Rogan is in the octagon with a microphone. Let’s see if we can get a few words from these geriatric gentleman gladiators.
Joe Rogan: Don, tell us what you were thinking when you saw Chuck loading up that left jab.
Trump: Well, Joe… I have… the… best… moves… just tremendous moves… (pant, pant, pant) but… I… didn’t… think… he’d connect… so hard.
Rogan: And how about you Chuck? Did you expect such a lethal hammer-fist from the other side of the aisle?
Schumer: That’s the… kind of… move… you… might expect… from someone… with a… defective… (pant,pant,pant) sense of morality!
Trump: That was a legal move and you know it, Cryin’ Chuck! Rudy said so!
Schumer: It’s irresponsible to hit a fellow human being with hands that big!
Trump: More Cryin’ from Chuck.
Schumer: Why I oughta…
Rogan: Okay, okay. Fight’s over, guys.
Trump: Meet me out back of Trump Tower and I’ll take you to the woodshed, Cryin’ Chuck.
Schumer: I’ll be there! And I won’t need Nancy!