Celebrity Wrestling Game

[Dave]

what you really want

[The Cat's Mother]

LOL @ the link, especially the bits about Kirk in slavery; even as a pre-pubescent, I noticed him revel in a bit of bondage. Well, everybody needs a break from being Captain, I suppose.

I confess to having a Kirk/Spock (the original slash pairing and one joyfully truncated by slashers to 'Kock' ) icon on my LiveJournal. There's a tale that the fun-loving Shatner and Nimoy, filming one of the ST movies on a set adjacent to Al Pacino's concurrent project, sneaked (in costume) onto Al's set and hid behind a door which Al had to open as part of his scene. The unwary Pacino duly opened the door and was somewhat surprised to find 'Kirk' and 'Spock' apparently snogging there.

Dave, I shall digress no further, as I expect you're just dying to give us your slash-heavy account of Kirk v Spock. Off you go, then.....

[Dave]

I never thought of them that way, but I will confess that another tv show from the same time period sometimes left me, ummmmm, confused

[The Cat's Mother]

Oh my! It's the Boy Wonder's first visit to that sort of establishment, I take it. Never fear, Robin, there's six friendly leathermen on their way over to hose you down again....


Little Jimmy Krankie v Little Jimmy Osmond

[the more you explore me!]

Kirk & Spock

The arena is echoing the theme of Star Trek, as Captain Kirk and Mr Spock take to their corners of the ring.
Kirk with his arms raised, walks around, nodding to the audience. Spock on the other hand, folds his arms and raises an eyebrow.
Kirk in his familiar yellow jersey, gestures to his former friend now opponent. “ Why – do – these –aliens- use- us – for- their – entertainment----Spock” Kirk said. Spock has his arms folded and raises an eyebrow.
“To-save-the –crew – of- the –enterprise- we must – fight –spock-spock- where –is the –logic- in –this –madness- Spock!!!
The audience throw in boxes of all brand into the ring “get on with it yer fat bastard”. Is the cheer!
Kirk takes his stand, with a wrestler pose, as he circles his friend with his hands ready to grab and some fancy leg moves, even when wearing them Cuban heeled boots that had in the sixties series. As always when the good captain was in a tussle he tears his jersey.
He circles more, then does one of them judo rolls that he fought scaly aliens with. Spock dodges him, stepping to one side (with his raised eye brow and serious look) deals Kirk the Vulcan death grip. Kirk, falls to the mat. His jersey tears more and his corset underneath is exposed to the screech of the audience. But unknown to spock, who with his easy victory has a slight cocky smirk on his face, Kirk’s wig suddenly has life of it’s own, leaps from his former “master” and before you can say “the trouble with tribbles” strangles the poor half human half Vulcan to death…” hail victorious Shatner’s hair piece!!!!!!! Long may he live on to be T J hooker “?


Steve Martin vs. actually someone still funny (your choice)

[The Cat's Mother]

Okay, I'll go for Steve Martin v Alan Bennett. I'll let Alan tell you how it went:

It looked like it was going to be a quiet Wednesday morning. As usual, I'd dusted the clocks and the porcelain cats and I was just about to sit down for tea and a chocolate Hobnob with Dame Thora Hird, when the telephone rang. It was Agnes, my agent and she sounded a mite vexed.

"What on earth's the matter, dear?" I asked, expecting to have to tune out yet another rant on the trials of the menopause. It's hitting Agnes hard, poor thing, what with the inner voices chanting "Kill! Kill! Kill!" every time she gets caught by traffic lights or sees someone dunking a Rich Tea.

"Alan, there's been a bit of mix-up and I've accidently signed you up for Celebrity Wrestling on Morrissey Solo." Agnes confessed. " I meant to get you onto 'Countdown', but I was taken by a hot flush between piles of papers."

I glanced at Dame Thora, whose advice has been a bit harder to gauge since she passed over and I had her stuffed. In death, I've taken to reading her a bit like seaweed and that morning, her dear, rigid hand felt a bit on the clammy side. She quite obviously shared my relief at having narrowly escaped an encounter with the loan-sharks' pin-up Miss Vordeman, and I was able to put poor Agnes' mind at rest that her mis-penning was indeed fortuitous. "And might I ask against whom I am to pitch my might?" I asked, flexing my three best typing fingers.

"Well, I don't know, do I? Some colonial." Agnes growled, and I could distinctly hear the sound of a pencil snapping in her hand as another wave of hormonal rage began to surge through her.

"Oh, do be careful, dear." I warned. "You can't start throwing the furniture around again. Not with your bone density." Sadly, I could get no more sense out of the girl, so I replaced the receiver, boosted myself with Dame Thora's untouched Hobnob and placed my most valued pieces of china in the cupboard under the stairs, alongside the well-thumbed specialist body-building magazines left to me by Noel Coward.

At two o'clock, just as I was giving Dame Thora's wig a quick beating against the fireguard, the doorbell sounded. Whereupon I opened the door to find a white-haired gentleman wearing the sort of grin more often to be seen upon someone being slowly electrocuted whilst bound to a set of bedposts (and I've had more experience of the latter than I'm prepared to elaborate on at this moment in time). "Good afternoon." I said. "Are you here for the wrestling?" and with that, I was taken aback to find myself shoved out of the way while the guest himself strode through to the sitting room and struck a pose of confrontation before the wigless shell of Dame Thora.

"I'm Steve Martin." clarified the American, for that indeed was his accent. "And I'm willing to mistake a dead dame for a living playwright to squeeze every last, desperate slapstick joke out of this situation." (Notice the lower-case 'd' in 'dame'. I felt quite vexed for Thora; I doubt if this Martin chap'd have dared drop an upper case for Judi Dench.). With that, he lunged at Dame Thora across the G-plan, scattering Spode and cubed demerara in his wake.

I wrung my hands in consternation and pondered as to whether my stuffed soul-mate was soundly enough stitched for a rumbustious activity I hadn't foreseen when I'd handed the taxidermist my checklist. I needn't have worried, though, because I'd asked that Thora's dentures be left loose in death as in life and they popped straight out from her crimson-daubed lips as their bodies collided. Whereupon the reprehensible Mr Martin lurched away from her, holding his throat, down which Thora's projectile pearlies were firmly wedged. I watched, smiling, as the rogue turned a fetching shade of violet and expired on my astrakan. "Attagirl, Thora." I commended my dear friend as I set her back on her chair and straightened her underslip. "Another Hobnob?"

Hmmmm..... how about Cher v Shirley Bassey?

[the more you explore me!]

Well this is an unusual match, like the rest of them haven’t been!!!
The diva from Wales is carried on to the ring by six muscular men dress only in loin clothes. “Thank you darlings” the memorable begins of Goldfinger slowly fade, as it is Cher time to enter the ring. The audience are not happy and are chanting, “Your mutton dressed as lamb”. Cher gives them the finger. she turns to her manager and asks "where were my tarzans"?
The bell rings for the 1st round. Each are in their corners, Shirley strikes a pose in her shimmery dress, lit up by a spotlight. Cher in her black leather and big curly hair "I got you babe" "like i'm gone kick yer arse", she spits on her hands and rubs them together.
"Ding ding" goes the bell, both enter the middle of the ring and are at each other like two Hoes fighting over a dollar (sorry listening to snoop dog today). There are crumps of hair, blood, smeared make up and broken nails.
The ladies have to be pulled apart, Cher is snarling like a dog and Shirley has a lopsided smirk on her face.
Now for round 2, cher prances like a panther into the ring while Shirley straigherns her tattered dress. Cher makes a move but Shirley dodges the attack, with one of her hip shaking diva posturings. Now she has cher in a position were she can use her killer move of the “Gold finger”. Cher struggles and is spitting and forming at the mouth as she is locked in a comfortable position not knowing what is about to happen next.
“Darlings don’t mess with the tigress from tiger bay” at the end of her utterance the gold finger is forced where, cher, the plastic surgeons practice puppet she faints to the mat. The welsh diva, ‘the original’ is lit up again in a spot light… with the opening music of “diamonds are forvevvvver”


Trivial:
In 2006 a petition was signed by over 88,000 people to ask Carol Voderman to stop doing secured loan adverts

tom cruise vs julie andrews

[The Cat's Mother]

Tom Cruise v Julie Andrews is almost too overwhelming a defeat to tell without tears in one's eyes....

Tom circles the arena in his fighter plane, sussing out the angel-voiced Andrews as she twirls around in her home-made Sound of Music pinny. No sign of the von Trapps so Tom discreetly snogs his photo of Val Kilmer and makes to swoop in to land, when....

Julie spots him and hits a top C, sustaining it until Tom's cockpit glass shatters and he crash-lands at Julie's feet. He crawls from the wreckage, only to be confronted by a posse of nuns. "Scientologist, eh?" growls Mother Superior. "Kick his heretic oirse, sisters!" A good arse-kicking later, Cruise slinks away, wincing and singing "How d'You Solve a Problem like My Rear?"

*

Did Vordeman take any notice of her petitioners, btw, or did she just sell all their phone numbers to Loans Direct?

Next up: Mary Kate v Ashley

[the more you explore me!]

This is a contest of the ‘straight to video twins’ that really look like two inbred marmosets with a cabbage patch doll.
The dye was cast when each were sent a memo and then a text, saying that Mary Kate hair straightens were ‘broken” by Ashley and Ashley received information that Mary Kate had scratched her new Prada heels.
Mary Kate now weighing in at grain of brown rice and slice of carrot, is helped in by a gathering of small elf’s and Ashley.... she don't need no one!
Mary Kate braces for the full assault of Ashley, with her little arms looking like cotton buds. Ashley stomps over and slaps her sister. Mary Kate falls to the mat and sits and cries. Ashley picks her up to cuddle her!
The audience so incensed with anger at the lack of sport, that they start to throw into the ring, at the pair of celebrity twins their free copies the Olsen twins DVDs. the twins are knocked senseless by the glittering barrage of flying discs.
Ashley tries to block the DVD ninja discs by bating them back with a copy of the national enquire. But it is too late Mary Kate is decapitated by the discs and Ashley drops to her knees wondering what she is going to spend her sisters half of the 150 millions fortune on!


OJ Simpson vs. Hilary Clinton