One final scream ended it all, as the challenger was broken in half, his shattered body lying limp on the floor. The crowed roared. The immovable object continued to reign supreme. The challenger was suspended between aware and unconscious. All he could do was look at the lights above, and tell himself that he had done his best, no matter how shameful it ended up to be. The fact remained he had lost, that he should fade back into the obscurity he had previously occupied, that fantasies are named such for a reason. The scoreboard was a testament to this fact :

Wedge of Cheese 1, Wilfred 0

That's the last time I buy a $1 knife. Stupid handle wasn't even attached properly.