And Boston hits back with a roundhouse right! But Medea’s Child ducks, and Boston begins to spin around crazily. Medea’s Child takes advantage of the opportunity, spinning Boston around
and around
and around
and then stopping Boston, then, winding up, Medea’s Child plants a HUUUUUUUUUGE uppercut right on Boston’s cleft chin.
The crowd goes WILD! Women are baring their breasts for beads! Men are watching! Pandemonium! Mass hysteria!
But wait! Boston is steadying itself. It’s casting a wary eye toward Medea’s Child, who seems… she seems to be TAUNTING Boston, ladies and gentlemen! Yes, she’s egging on the elderly town.
What’s that that Boston has behind its back! Oh my LORD! It’s a Tupperware container of baked beans! Boston hurls the beans at Medea’s Child, but she, with the catlike quickness of Sean Young pretending to be Catwoman, eludes the flying food!
Medea’s Child hurls herself against the ropes, and runs at Boston! YEEEEEEEEEEhaw! Look at THAT, ladies and gentlemen! Medea’s Child has clotheslined Boston!
Boston is down! Boston is down!
There’s the ref with the count!
“Er, ah, one… er, ah, two… er, ah… THREE!”
And Medea’s Child is your new champion, ladies and gentlemen! Medea’s Child has won!