Down goes Fibberlips!

Ali Toupee

Good evening ladies and gentleman. This is Howard Cosell reporting to you live – or as some might say undead – from Madison Square Garden.

I am ringside awaiting the start of an epic fight between the defending president of the United States and the former vice president.

The atmosphere here is positively electric. So many politicians, entertainers, celebrities.

Here comes a pair now. Kim Kardashian. And she brought Kanye. Is he wearing a mask or a muzzle? I don’t know, but it would appear that Yeezy is on a tight leash. Literally.

And now a tremendous roar. Most of the crowd on its feet. A few still in their seats dribbling nacho cheese sauce down their Confederate crop tops. Making his way to the ring, clad in snug blue trunks, wearing his trademark aviator sunglasses, silver chest hair neatly parted, weighing in at 192 gaffs, The Delaware Sniffer, The Basement Brawler, Uncle Joe Biden.

Biden’s wife, Jill, is leading him by the hand toward the ring. Wait. Now she’s pulling hard with both hands as Biden stops to shout at a heckler. “Person, woman, man, camera, HBO. Is that cognitive enough for you, bub?”

Biden’s trainer, two-time former president Barrack Obama – a.k.a. The Kenyan Kid – helps Jill drag Joe into the ring. Biden waves to the crowd, He begins to … oh no … he’s wandering to the wrong corner.

Silence. Now a roar as The Kenyan Kid gently guides Biden toward his stool. What a bromance! It’s a sight that no one here will ever forget – except maybe the cheese dribblers.

And now a second roar. That can only mean  … my mistake … it’s just the nacho vendors making one more pass through the cheese dribblers.

As we await the entrance of the defending president, let’s take a moment to chat with this handsome gentleman next to me. A man who needs no introduction, but I’m going to do it anyway because I love the sound of my own voice.

A three-time champion of the world. The Greatest. My friend. The one and only Muhammad Ali. Welcome, champ. It’s been a long time. Too long. I must say you look as pretty as ever. How do you do it? And how do you see this fight unfolding?

Thank you, Howard. It’s an honor for you to be speaking with me. Here’s what I see. That same ugly old rug on top of your ugly bald head. Now here’s what I think about the fight. I see the president huffin’ and puffin’ but hittin’ nuthin. The veep will put him to sleep with punches so sweet he’ll forget how to tweet.

I must say, Muhammad, you haven’t lost a … and now another roar. Not as loud as for the nacho vendors, but, yes, here he comes. Clad in voluminous red trunks, bronzer oozing from every pore, tipping the scales at a tad over morbidly obese, holding a Bible in the air, the Hero of Lafayette Park, President Donald “Fifteen Flushes” Fibberlips.

The president’s trainer, current vice president Mike Pence, straps Fibberlips into the harness that will hoist him into the ring. Up … up … up …

How high you think they gonna lift him, Howard?

I don’t know, champ, but the president is now suspended a good 50 feet above the ring. Limbs flailing. Hair flying. Clearly a man in great distress. Finally they begin to lower him. Sweet Jesus! The vice president has lost his grip on the winch. Fibberlips is in free fall. Hurtling inexorably toward the canvas like a lead tangerine.

I never seen a man bounce so high, Howard.

Another sight that no one here will ever forget, champ, not even the cheese dribblers. If I wasn’t Howard Cosell, I’d be speechless. But I am. So I’m not. Fibberlips has finally stopped bouncing. Pence is removing the harness. The president is tapping his gloves together in the middle of the ring. But where is Joe Biden?

You don’t see this every day, Howard. A trainer giving his fighter smelling salts BEFORE the fight.

Incogitable! Biden is finally off his stool. He walks to the middle of the ring. The referee wishes the fighters good luck. Fibberlips returns to his corner, but Biden looks confused. Now he’s smiling. Jumping. Fists raised high. Listen to him chant, champ. “Float like a bee, sting like a butterfly.” What in the name of Rocky Balboa is happening here?

Howard, I believe Joe thinks the president quit and the fight is over.

Unbelievable! The bell rings for round one. Fibberlips storms out of his corner. Biden suddenly comes to his senses. He deftly steps to the left. Fibberlips swings wildly and misses. The president charges again. Biden slides left. Another wild swing. Another clean miss. Now another charge. And another sidestep. And another miss.  At this point Joe has gone as far left as he can go. Fibberlips moves in, swinging furiously, but Joe leans back against the ropes. Calm. Confident. Protecting his face with his gloves. Dodging almost every blow. Champ, it looks like …

You right, Howard. It’s the old rope-a-dope.

Fibberlips is gasping like a beached carp. Legs wobbly. Hands at his side.  All punched out. Irrefutable evidence of an abject failure to properly prepare for this fight.

Too many hamberders, Howard.

Brad Broberg

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