Part  1:

Posted by Simguy on 1/21/2005, 7:02 am.

Before: FCBAS refusing to sanction fight as so-called “Jugs Only” bout, HBO refusing to promote it as such--corporate America showing its collective hypocrisy in taking a moral stance on Mish/Jessica. Boxing insiders know otherwise--girls rumored to have made their own pact on the side; it’s the worst kept secret in boxing. Mish coy with the press: “I just want her beaten,” Williams says. “If I happen to cop a little jug in the process (big  ‘who--me?’ shrug) so be it.” Hooters giving Southern-girl Jessica a hearty endorsement, even providing sparring partners and specialized consultation--snippets of Jess in honorary hooters garb mixing it up with waitresses a wildly popular download at various websites. “No way her jugs stops my jugs,” reasons Jessica in ore fight. “And if Mish goes out? I’ll have certain little something extra for her--that’s a promise!” Williams blanching at the prospect of JMD from the well-endowed Krusher: no idle threat from jess, mish in black push up bikini top, leopard print bottoms, short UGG boxing boots (sold as slUGG boots in the States)--Jessica in pink string bikini, tan slUGG boots.

During R1: Jess leans in first test with the mostest, exploding an overhand right across Mishy’s jugs to spank the HISC beauty upright, Simpsy wading in, head down, stepping as she hauls in the sidearm--swinging left, stepping and getting the right--walking barrage to Mish-rack backs Williams to the ropes. SIMPSON ROMPS TO JUG! Jessica pinning her ears back, showing vintage Krusher form as she dips shoulders and chugs up into the bulge of Mishy’s sacks--Williams bug-eyed, slump against the ropes, unable to get off her heels. Mish finally crossing her wrists at her chest, elbows in, turning her left side to Jess: Simpsy just belting away mindless--face in close, twisting at the hips and pitching it in hard bell to bell. Break: Jessica’s chest HEAVING, eyes blazing--poor Mishy slumping, trembling from the one-sided shellack.

R2: Girls edge in shoulder to shoulder, hooking the bejesus out of offending racks: Simpsy gets the better of concussive exchanges. Punches like soccer balls being booted full blast off Mishy’s chest--Williams backing up, discouraged from punching in the face of reckless Krusher abandon. Simpsy wading forward--errant punches belting shoulder and flank in the crazed need to get at the jug. Williams ropeside, windblown after minute one and SIMPSY LIGHTS ‘ER UP! Jess getting all up in there again with that dip ‘n’ chug routine, bending her knees, straightening to stand up in the stirrups--she’s GALLOPING away to Mishy’s sulking buckets. Mish just can’t take it any more--she clinches hurt, snuggling in close, getting stacked up as impatient Simpson wriggles for room. Jess knuckle-pushing, keeping her hips back, just trying to plug and scrub--punches swishing back and forth in a greasy shoeshine across Mishy’s quivering puppies--poor Williams open-mouthed in shock as Jessica storms bell to bell AGAIN! Simpsy hopping back to her corner, pumped, flushed with conquest: Michelle sullen, shiny-eyed, hugging herself, fuming in pain and indignation.

R3: Mish setting her feet and driving overhand rights in flat to Simpsy’s hulking bulge--Mish keeping the left at her stomach as she leans forward and pumps, rapid-fire effect finally has Simpson distraught, Jessica taking her first backward steps, blinking stupidly as Mish walks her down. Jess: hands at chest--Mish stalking, jabbing into Jessi’s gloves, slamming away muscular right cross against the guard, falling in with the left to the hip--Simpsy driven in stages to the ropes. Williams slowing things down, riding her guard into jess to smear her sideways on the ropes, using an extended left elbow to prop, then plugging openings with chugging HISC leather, Simpsy finally covers up, sagging into the ropes--Mish able to lean her chin out over Simpson’s head, fists pumping away downstairs to belly, protective arms and throbbing jug meat at the bell…AND BEYOND! Mish with some catching up to do takes a little extra as ref gets involved.

R4: HAMMER AND TONGS MIDRING! Girls fall in and form up fight’s first cauldron--both riding left arms up around each other’s necks, heads held in tight, right hands pumping and digging to tender middles and pouting racks. Constant tug ‘n’ slug rotates women in random patterns around the ring--neither able to get an upper hand. Fight spills into ropes, girls burbling along--now Mish on top, now Jen--cauldron more or less held together as both girls convinced she can make a go of it. Down the stretch, it’s Simpson pressed to a seat in the ropes, no longer punching--Mish disengaging from the hold-and-hit, getting a little distance and pounding away crisscross to Jessica’s pulsing orbs. Simpsy open mouthed, perma-wince on her lips--she’s just sitting and taking what Mish has to offer. Extra slugging after the bell? Good lord yes.

R5: Girls wade in mindless, chins up high, arms slugging right-on-left and left-on-right it’s Jessica who has the rhythm. Swabbing beat down drives Mish grimacing to ropes--Simpsy just AT her, laying in ear to ear to pump tummy, working up torso to jam away jug both hands. Williams trying to slide along ropes, but Jess won’t have it--smothering assault smears Mishy, grinds her. Hard, hard punching from Jess--little Krusher getting the most out of her curves as she crowds close, jerks in tight and take all the rack she can handle this round. “THAT’S GOOD JUG!” Simpson screams nonsensically into Mishy’s groggy face at the bell--Hooter-girl honour guard ringside falling all over themselves with laughter as Jessica brings a little Hooter-gym slang into the Big Show.

Simpson/Williams conc. (Too much jug for one post)

Posted by Simguy on 1/21/2005, 7:04 am.

R6: Both girls mouth-breathing, hollow-eyed: draining contest as chins go unchecked, forcing a battle of attrition on boith KO-minded beauties. Jess gets the early advantage in more brushing shoeshine exchanges--Simpson scrub-bump punching Mish to the ropes, Jess keeping her forehead on Mishy’s, knuckling back the biceps and squishing in short-arm harm, bodying to keep Williams from punching back. Final minute--ref’s break gives Williams a little breathing room--girls trade step-in spank amidships--both really driving in with short right hands, Mishy’s back foot up off the cnvas with effort and JESSICA SCOOTS TO HER BUTTOCKS! Simpson squeezing out tears as she rolls to her knees, cradling her gut and trying desperately to get off her haunches. Simpsy beats the count, but Mish strutting and hooting with new-found confidence: concussive blast seems a turning point as Williams ties up the cards hrough6.

R7: No doubt about it--Jessica’s not the same fighter. Simpsy still eager, aggressive and competitive--but not punching with the same mindless intensity and no longer able to hold her ground. Now it’s Mish establishing position inside, Mish scrounging and palming at Jessica’s arms to expose those heaving melons, and Mish plunging into cleavage with  muscular intentions. Simpson backed to the ropes, expression groggy, eyes distant. Jess reaching her left over Mishy’s right shoulder, trying to tie up: Williams won’t have it--pushing Jessica’s hips back and digging up ribs and tit with short, bashing lefts and rights. Simpsy no longer registering each impact: she’s drowsy with constant hurt at this point.

R8: Mish taking on water, nodding aggressively in her corner--she tells her people , “I’ve got her” during the break. Bell: Williams charging the mound, forces Simpson back into the Krusher corner and POUNDS away. Mish extending her arms to push on Jessica, then taking jug criss cross until inevitably falling in. Mish crowding, using her shoulder to bump, then sampling tummy with cuffing swats, jerking up into robust uppercuts to helpless Simpson rack at intervals, Jessica drained, openly weepy--she can’t get her butt off home turnbuckles, forced to take it all round long from Mish.

R9: Mish marching on Jessica, bodies up and stacks Simpson so roughly into Krusher corner, Jessica’s head does a woozy whiplash, Mish working out of the wrap, using her left to trap Jessica’s right, slumping buxom Krusher forward and OH THE RIGHT HANDS TO JUG! Williams face a mask of Aztec-like exultation as she short-arm pumps, punches, pushes with the right hand, getting ALL up into that helpless Krusher rack as Simpsy wilts, Jessica sobbing, trying to tie up, but she’s SO weak--Mish able to palm her torso open with the right, then keep up the hellish pounding, sweat flying from Mishy’s brow with the exertions. Mish romps bell to bell, taking all she wants and then a wee bit more as Simpson’s legs quiver on the verge. Mish leering at Jessica, savouring the sights and sounds of pulverized blonde wreckage: Simpsy  groaning, trying to pull herself together, avoiding eye contact.

R10: Jessica brave, standing her ground and trading midring, but it’s all Mish toe to toe., Girls with rights held in tight to jaw, both turning on biting hooks flat to rack, but it’s Simpsy stumbling backwards from mutual destruction. Mish walking Jessica down, hungrily barging in through the front door--she’s palming Simpsy’s arms away, standing up in the stirrups to guzzle jug, then pushing again to keep Jess pinned down at the ropes. Simpsy woozy, drifting, arms often draped uselessly across Mishy’s upper back as Williams bashes away at the goods beneath. Williams hammering away her hardest--Simpson’s thighs and buttocks quivering in protest--but Jessica just won’t go. Bell: Mish thrusts high , chests up and bellows her triumph into sleep Jessica’s pasty, shellshocked face. Come back UD10 Mish Williams.

After: Mish survives a scare, digs down and eventually overhauls a torrid Jess Simpson start. Simpsy bawling, hugging her devastated chest--Jessica Lange brushing hair out of smaller blonde’s face, trying to consol her. “That was a lot of fun!” Breezes a dismissive Mish in outfight. “I did what I wanted, when I wanted and the results speak for themselves. Basically, she gave it up to me--I just had to stay focused and keep up the pounding, but I was never hurt or scared in the fight. I think I showed everybody just how over-rated Jess and her shabby jugs really are. I can TOTALLY see her slinging beer and wings down south in a few years with the rest of those Hooters skanks: brawling for tips, trying to get people to remember who she was. It would be sad and pathetic if it weren;t so damn hysterical!”

Reposted by Archer 6/22/10.