They lifted Hoiman's scratch, thus causing him to lose much smoosh. So he grabbed his bum and hit the high orbit.
cling until he gets a chance to clamp on the pretzel bend.
The whistle blows, and this time my bum uses my head. When the Martian Mangler gallops over to his corner, my bum has went through the ropes and quick runs around on the apron to the other side and comes at the Martian from behind before the goof knows what's happening.
He lets the Martian have a rabbit punch, then a forearm smash, then a knee to his stomach. The Martian leans over, kinda sick, maybe, and gets a knee lift to the smoosh. This softens him up good, and my bum clamps the pretzel bend on him. That Martian squirms like an octopus, with arms and legs flying in all directions. And you coulda knocked me over with a subpoena when he got out of it!
Your guess is as good as mine, how he done it. But my bum is moving fast, and he gives him some more knee lifts and a drop kick or two, and then a hair mare, and he falls on him for a body press and gets the count.
Each bum has got a fall. You shoulda heard them Martians th
A dopey story about an interplanetary wrestling manager. A mixture of a heavy New Jersey accent presented phonetically throughout the story, and liberal use of ancient slang make the story difficult to follow. There's not much of a plot - it's just one character relaying his antics to another.
It only earns two stars because the premise is a little unique, and the writing isn't quite as terrible as in some other books on this site.