Scrap 67

SCRAP 67
After the mass scramble for the toilets and tussle for drinks at the bar, the final bout is ready to get underway. The MC hauls his oversize frame into the ring and takes the microphone. Dawn and Mavis jump as the loudspeaker above their heads suddenly booms out ‘The Dambusters March’ at full volume, causing all around to plug their ears with their fingers.
A roar of cheering rumbles around the Hawaiian Ballroom as glamorous blond haired Alan Dale steps into the spotlight beam, accompanied by his second and two burly security guards borrowed from the Pig and Whistle bar.
The group make their way to the ring, with the hero ex-fighter pilot waving generously to the crowds as he passes by. He hands his dressing gown to the second and leaps effortlessly over the top rope onto the canvas-covered sprung floor. The crowd cheer and clap enthusiastically as he does a few turns of the ring, waving and blowing kisses to selected ladies in the audience. Then he perches on a stool in the blue corner while the music is changed to the theme tune to Spartacus.
All eyes go to the back of the room where the Masked Marauder is making his entrance, flanked by six security guards and his second. Boos echo around the room as he swaggers up to the ropes and swings lithely up and into the ring.
The music ceases as the MC announces the weights of the men, then the referee takes charge and the bell goes for round one.
The combatants eye each other as they square up, each looking for the best opportunity of a first point. Dale lunges at his opponent, who punches him square in the face, an illegal move which draws screams of hatred from the crowd and sends Dale sprawling to his knees.
The referee ignores the illegal move, which stirs the crowd to remonstrate with him, and begins to count to ten. He gets to seven before Dale straightens up, grabbing the Masked Marauder in a half-nelson and throwing him to the floor with a loud thud.
The carefully rehearsed moves are played out, each designed to infuriate the crowd with Alan Dale the perfect gentleman fighter and his opponent the dirty crook. By round four Mavis is up on her feet and reaching for the hatpin, ready to jab at the scoundrel if she can get close enough, but her efforts are thwarted by the security guards who pick her up and deposit her back in her seat. ‘Behave yourself, love,’ shouts one, ‘or we’ll have to escort you from the premises.’
This just makes her all the more determined and when they go to encourage some other offenders back to their seats she takes her chance. As the Masked Marauder is pinned to the canvas in a full body press she lurches across the aisle and thrusts the hatpin as hard as she can into his left buttock.
The crowd roar their approval as the referee continues the count. The bell rings and the men return to their respective corners, the Masked Marauder limping and rubbing at his buttock.
Mavis is quick to retake her seat before the security guards can see what she has done and she smirks to Dawn who nods her approval. ‘That’ll teach him,’ she mutters as the bell goes for the final round.
The crowd are being worked to a frenzy as the men battle it out in the ring. Dale makes a huge show of pain as he is supposedly jabbed in the stomach, then is cheered to the roof as he retaliates, lifting the Masked Marauder above his head, spinning him round and finally slamming him down on the canvas for the final countdown.
The referee declares that the winner is Alan Dale, the crowd cheer and clap their approval, then the chanting begins for him to rip off the mask. ‘Off, off, off,’ they shout, stamping their feet and clapping in unison. Dale makes pretence of trying to unmask the bounder but the security guards are near to losing control, so he makes the man kneel before him, kicks him up the backside and sprints off to the dressing room.
The Masked Marauder is escorted from the room surrounded by security staff and with the jeers of the crowd ringing in his ears. The MC brings the entertainment to a close and reminds everyone that this week’s talent show final is tomorrow night so don’t be late for the end of week spectacular.
Frank frowns at Scotty but doesn’t say a word.