Marbled Musculature Makes its way to the ring, Moving with a Measurable and Miraculous Momentum.  Momentarily to Massage the ear holes of the Tantalized and soon to be Traumatized audience with his Melodious Mouth Movements.  His voice I mean.  I mean his voice.

"[i][b]Kawaler Knight![/b][/i]" he calls into the night, to the knight.

"[i][b]Bub!  Wherefore art thou bub?  Deny thy agent and forsake thy share of the pot![/b][/i]"

Seizing the opportunity, and to distract from how little sense his ramblings make, the Masked and Mustachioed Muscle Man of Mount Magura, Moldova hits a muscley pose.  Abs hard as hell.  Chest also very hard.  Biceps, those are hard too.  Basically he's hard as hell all over.  

"[i][b]Today, foe, your condescending pride hath thee most fucked.  Verily thou art well and truly fuckethed.[/b][/i]"

He pivots around to show the crowd his back muscles.  They are also hard.  He's quite strong.  Really.  You would be impressed by how strong he is.  I guarantee it.

"[i][b]My bureaucracy is matched only by my virtue and also my very full and healthy head of hair.  It's all under this mask.  It's very luxuriant I assure you.  Come fiend.  Test Thy Might against my Miraculous Musculature and Mighty Mustache.  Look upon my Works and Weep.  And then get in the ring so I can beat you up.  That's how it works.  Come on let's go.  I've run out of semi-clever things to say![/b][/i]"

He was ready for the fight to begin.  He had a hot brunch date the next day.  Omellettes and mimosas until he puked.  Couldn't wait.