Kong vs. The Bear
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Doug had always wanted to be a wrestler.
As a kid, he used to relish the wrestling matches he would have
with his friends. He was always a big, strong kid, and his friends
used to call him 'Kid Kong' because they said wrestling him was
like wrestling King Kong himself! Doug would bask in the glow of
their admiration, and loved walking all over the place with his
shirt off so he could show off that massive chest of his, which
he maintained, since he was 12, with a steady work out with weights
and loads of calisthenics. He knew he was destined to be a professional
Now, 29 years old, he was still unable to break into the big time
of professional wrestling, despite a great career in college. He
had been relegated to sparing with second and third string pros.
Age was catching up with him, he mused, and he had no idea how he
was going to change his fortunes. Then it happened.
Doug was in his tiny apartment, feeling sorry for him, when the
phone rang. It was his manager, Artie Cox. He hadn't heard from
Artie for a while, so he was surprised that Artie finally remembered
that Doug was his client. He was even more surprised when Artie
asked him to come down to his office to discuss a possible professional
engagement. Artie had been his manager for eight years now, and
this was the first time he actually called with an offer. Doug was
dressed and out the door in minutes, and went straight to Artie's
"Kid, I've got a potential match for you, but I'm not sure
you're gonna like It.", Artie said as soon as Doug came in
his door. "Are you kidding, man? I've been waiting YEARS for
this phone call. If it's a professional gig, I want it!", said
Doug, unable to contain his excitement at the thought of actually
wrestling professionally. "Their offering you $500 for the
night,” continued Artie, "but I gotta warn you, it's
not your average wrestling match. It's a pay per view thing for
an up and coming league, the I.T.W.F. They're looking for new talent,
and I think you have exactly what they're looking for, but again....",
Doug cut him right off, "I want this, Artie. I want it bad!
Make it happen.". Artie shook his head, "O.K. then, Kid,
but don't say I didn't warn you.".
Doug went into an almost non-stop workout regiment for the next
two weeks. He was determined that he would be at his peak for the
match, and he felt great and full of confidence when Artie picked
him up for the match that Saturday night.
The arena was outside of town, and Doug wasn't familiar with it,
but when he got there he was on cloud 9 when he saw the marquee
outside the arena reading "TONIGHT'S MAIN MATCH: KID KONG vs.
THE BEAR". His name was in lights. He was happier than he had
ever been in his life, "I'm on my way.,” he thought,
"Nothin's gonna stop me now!"
Artie was quiet the whole way, and said nothing as they went into
the entrance marked Employees Only. They went down a long corridor
to the dressing room, and Artie told Doug he'd see him in the arena.
Doug was surprised by Artie's dour attitude. After all, he was picking
up $100 for driving Doug to the arena and sitting back in the stands
to watch. It was Doug who was going to have the bruises the next
day, but he didn't care. It was a professional match! So Doug quickly
stripped off his cloths, put on his jock strap and lycra shorts
that showed off his 'package' perfectly, slipped on his white athletic
socks, them put his socked feet into his wrestling boots, laced
them up, put on his crimson robe with the letters 'KID KONG' emblazed
in gold lettering on the back, and headed for the door to the ring.
"Look out world, here comes Kid Kong!", he thought as
he opened the door and saw the crowd.
The place was packed! It was a bit smaller than he expected, but
it held a good 500 people, and, after all, this was a pay per view
event, so he knew the bulk of the proceeds would come through people
watching at home and at theaters. It was a typical wrestling ring,
with the spotlights above and the large speaker, equipped with microphones
to pick up all the sounds that would come from the ring, hanging
over the center. Doug was all set, and stood in the doorway awaiting
Within minutes a man in a dark blue suit entered the ring, to the
roar of the crowd, and announced, "Gentlemen, are you ready
for a rib tickling good time?", to which the crowd roared their
approval. "Weird way to introduce a match.", thought Doug,
but then he shrugged it off. Only then did he take a closer look
at the crowd. They were all men. Not a woman in the place. "This
is getting weirder and weirder, but hell, it's a professional match,
so what do I care?".
"In this corner,", continued the announcer, "weighing
190 lbs., standing 6' even, and wearing red trunks, at least for
now...", to which the crowd exploded with shrieks of approving
laughter, "the challenger, Kid Kong!". This was it. Doug
started to run up to the ring, and was immediately verbally assailed
by a loud chorus of boos and catcalls from the crowd. Doug shrugged
it off. "This is normal for a challenger." he reminded
himself as he climbed into the ring, removed his robe, exposing
his six pack abs and smooth chest, and started to limber up. Through
the noise, he had missed the "at least for now" line.
"And in this corner, wearing his signature black briefs, weighing
275 lbs, and standing 6' 3"," shouted the announcer over
the din of the approving crowd, "the I.T.W.F. defending Champion,
The crowd exploded with cheers and applause, so much so that it
was almost deafening. Then Doug saw his opponent enter the ring,
and he turned white. The guy was a bear! He was a monster of a bear,
standing the full height he had been announced at, and built like
the proverbial brick, well, you know what!
The man-monster turned around, holding his hands up to egg on the
approving crowd, and that is when Doug saw it, and he got even whiter.
Emblazoned on the back of The Bear's black robe, in gold letters,
was 'THE BEAR INTERNATIONAL TICKLE WRESTLING FEDERATION CHAMPION,
2007-9'. Doug could feel himself shaking, and he couldn't stop.
Doug had always had one slight problem in his life; he was deathly
ticklish. Since he was bigger than his friends and most of his opponents,
he had never had a problem hiding that weakness. In fact, it was
totally by accident that Artie had learned of it five years earlier.
Doug had just completed a long sparring match with an up and coming
wrestler, and had been able to hold his own against him, although
he had taken a bit of a beating. Artie had arraigned for a massage
for his wrestler, as a reward for his hard work. Doug had always
avoided massages, as he was afraid it might expose his weakness,
but what could he say in this instance? He stripped naked, got on
the table, and let the guy go to work.
At first he was able to contain himself when the masseur kneaded
his back and sides. It took all his will power, but he did it.
The masseur was an expert, and he worked over every inch of Doug's
naked upper body, as Doug grit his teeth and held back the giggles
and laughter that was building up inside him with every stroke and
poke. After about a half hour, the masseur moved down to doug's
thighs, which drove him to bite his lip, then down his legs, which
he could tolerate, then down to the spot Doug dreaded; his bare
feet. The massage didn't last a minute when the masseur began to
massage the sole of his left foot. Doug screamed with laughter,
and dove off the table. Artie and the masseur looked at him with
shock, then both burst out laughing. Doug turned beet red with embarrassment,
and begged the men not to say a word about the incident, which they
both agreed to.
Now, it seemed, five years later, Artie may have had seconds thoughts.
Doug watched with horror as the man mountain removed the robe, exposing
his massive chest, which, like his back, legs, and arms, was covered
in a thick coating of black hair. Hell, the guy even had hair on
the tops of his size 13 feet and toes, which is how Doug first realized
that all his opponent was wearing was a small, almost too tight
for his physique, black lycra brief. With his shiny bald head, the
only place on this beast that did not have hair, the guy was the
epitome of the perfect wrestling champion. Doug was petrified, and
wanted to run, but then the announcer handed the microphone over
to the referee, who called the wrestlers to the center of the ring.
Doug realized, there was no turning back now.
"I want a clean fight.", instructed the ref, "You
can use any hold you want to keep your opponent where you want him,
but only tickling is allowed for submission. One round, ends when
one of you submits. After that, the loser is on his own!",
continued the ref, smiling evilly in Doug's direction, as if he
knew what the inevitable outcome of this match would be, and Doug
wasn't so sure he was wrong. "Now get to your corners and wait
for the bell.". Doug did as instructed. He wanted to run, but
he couldn't; no sooner did he get there than the bell rang. The
fight was on!
Doug knew his only hope was to avoid getting in front of his opponent
and allowing him to get hold of him. There was no way he would be
able to break free that monsters grip if he got him. "This
is tickle wrestling, so that means this goomer must be ticklish.",
thought Doug. "He's stripped more than I am, and he's barefoot,
which means I have a bit of an advantage. If I can just get him
on the ground and work on those Sasquatch feet of his, I've got
him!". With that, Doug quickly moved behind the much bigger
and, he thought, slower wrestler, and tried to position himself
so he could tickle the massive bruisers bare ribs.
Doug dodged and bobbed all around the Bear, trying to get his opponent
disoriented. Instead, the Bear simply crossed his arms and watched
his opponent dance around the ring. The crowd now began to boo,
and yell for Doug to "Mix it up, you coward! Get in there and
wrestle!". Doug knew things were getting ugly, so he made his
move and went for his opponents exposed lower sides.
His hands were a micrometer away from the Bear's naked skin, so
close that he could feel the warmth eminating from the brute, when,
to Doug's shock and dismay, the guy whipped his arm around, grabbed
Doug's left wrist, and yanked him, like he was a rag doll, in front
of him. The Bear then raised Doug's left arm up, slipped his own
left arm over Doug's left shoulder, grabbed his right wrist and
lifted it up so that he could get his massive left arm over the
right shoulder as well, pinning poor Doug's arms back and up, in
a full Nelson that the monster was accommplishing with one arm!
Doug was in deep trouble, and he knew it.
Immediately the champion began to run the fingers of his free right
hand up and down Doug's naked and fully exposed sides, first his
left side, then his right. He explored Doug's armpits, his ribs,
and his lower sides and firm belly. Doug tried to fight the insane
tickling sensations, tried thinking of anything, everything, that
would keep him from laughing, but, in the end, it was useless.
This guy was a professional, and knew exactly how to attack each
and every spot of his opponents, or should we say prey's, bare skin.
In less than a minute, he had Doug giggling like a little girl,
and the crowd went wild.
He kept Doug in that full Nelson for the next 15 minutes, tickling
him silly. The Bear had quickly discovered that Doug's 'sweet spots'
were his pits, lower sides, right on and around the waist, and his
navel, and those are the spots he concentrated his attack on. Doug
was now laughing out loud, and begging his opponent to stop, "Please!
HAAHAAHAA! STHAAHAAP! I can't STHAAHAAND it! PLHEEHEESE!".
Sadistically, the Bear leaned over to his helpless opponent and
began to taunt, "Oh, is the poor baby ticklish? Huh? Kitchy
kitchy, coo, baby! Tickle, tickle, tickle, and tickle! Tickle those
armpits? Sure I will! Kitchy coo, kitchy coo, kitchy coo! Tickle,
tickle, tickle, tickle! Now you want your naked belly tickled? Huh?
Say it! Say you want your belly tickled!” Desperately hoping
the torture would stop, Doug shouted, "YES! THEEHEECKLE my
belly! PLHEEHEESE tickle mhaahaay belly! HEEHEEHEE! and, sure enough,
the monster moved his hand from Doug's abused pits to his even more
sensitive belly, working over the taught skin, and drilling into
his navel, as Doug begged and laughed pitifully. All the time his
laughter and pleas for mercy were being broadcast over the arena
sound system to the total approval of the crowd, who relished Doug's
torture even more than he hated it.
Obviously tired of current position, the Bear suddenly released
Doug, who could barely stand. As Doug wobbled about, totally disoriented
from the fifteen minutes of non-stop tickling, the Bear approached
him as a real bear would approach a wounded animal. He threw his
massive arms around Doug in a bear hug, and lifted him off his feet
into the air. Doug was still woozy from the tickling he had just
received, and wasn't nearly ready for the new assault launched against
his ticklish body. The hairy giant wrapped his arms around his victim
so that his fingers were on Doug's sides while his arms held Doug
tightly against his barrel chest. Now, cruelly, the Bear struck,
wiggling his fingers on Doug's sensitive and exposed lower sides.
Doug was in hysterics in moments.
"Oh, is the poor little boy's sides ticklish? Poor little boy!
Let's see if we can tickle you pink, shall we?” the beast
continued to taunt. "NHOOHOO! Please stop THEEHEECKLING MHEEHEE!
I beg of you, PLHEEHEESE STHAAHAAHAAP! ", Begged Doug, to no
avail. After ten minutes of this punishment, the Bear leaned up
against the ropes, so that Doug was literally lying on top of his
chest. At this point, Doug was so sensitized that the Bear's chest
hairs literally tickled his naked back. The Bear now eased his grip
of Doug so his fingers were right on Doug's six pack abs and, holding
him tight with his forearms, the Bear began to dance his fingers
all over Doug's belly.
The champion kept this torture up for a long time, as he was obviously
very comfortable in this position. He had also noticed something
interesting about Doug; there was a tent forming in his shorts.
The relentless tickle torture was turning on the poor guy! Now was
the time to go for the kill.
The Bear released Doug from his tickling grip, and Doug; exhausted
from his nearly hour and a half of non-stop tickle torture, dropped
right to the mat. This is what the sadistic wrestler was waiting
for. He straddled his prey, sat down on the base of his back facing
his feet, grabbed Doug's ankles, yanked them back and crossed them
so his feet were facing him and his ankles locked in place by each
other, and then, lazily, he began to unlace Doug's left boot.
Doug began to get a grip after his long ordeal, and quickly became
aware of what his opponent was up to. Instantly, he panicked. "Don't
you take off my boots!” Doug protested, "Don't you dare
take off my boots! Please, please, don't take off my boots!”
"What's the matter, little boy, afraid that I might tickle
your feet?” chided the monster, "Because that's EXACTLY
what I'm gonna do to you. I'm gonna tickle your feet until you turn
ten shades of pink, and there's not a damn thing you can do about
it!” He was right, and Doug almost began to cry.
After taking off the left boot, the Bear did the same thing with
the right one. The anticipation of what the Bear intended to do
to him next was driving Doug mad with fearful anticipation, which
was compounded by his opponent's taunts, "I'm gonna start by
tickling your socked feet. I'm gonna tickle you all over those tootsies.
Then, we'll see how ticklish your bare feet are!". "Please,
sir! Have pity!” begged Doug, red with embarrassment at his
pitiful condition. "Why, little boy? Are you ticklish on your
tootsies?” mocked the Bear. "Yes! I admit it! I'm ticklish
on my feet! Please, please, please, don't tickle my feet. Not my
FEET!” cried Doug, but then it began. The bear began to run
his fingers up and down Doug's white-socked feet, and Doug howled
with ticklish laughter, and the crowd roared their approval.
Holding Doug's feet with the ankles crossed, the Bear's thighs up
against Doug's bent knees, allowing them no room to pull away, and
his left arm wrapped around the crossed legs, allowed the Bear to
work over both socked feet at once with his free right hand, as
Doug was unable to do much more than wiggle his toes and flex his
soles at the tickling assault. "Mercy!” screamed Doug,
"PLHEEHEEHEESE have MHEEHEERCY! I can't STHAAHAAND HEEHEET!
Please, sthaahaap tickling mhaahaay FHEEHEEHEET!” "Oh,
are the poor little boys feet ticklish?” teased the Bear,
"Tell me how ticklish your feet are. Tell me now, or you'll
really get it!” "I'm VERY theeheecklish!” admitted
Doug, shame at his weakness filling his soul, "I'm SHUUHUUPER
THEEHEEKLISH! Please SHAAHAAHAAP! I'm VERY ticklish, and I CHAAHAAHAAN'T
The Bear continued to dance his fingers all over the socked soles
of Doug's poor feet for the next half hour. He continued to run
his fingers up and down, up and down Doug's soles, as Doug screamed
with laughter and pleaded for mercy, none of which was shown. Finally,
he said over his shoulder, "Time to see how ticklish your BARE
feet are, so off with those socks!” and, with that, he reached
for the top of Doug's left white sock and ever so slowly began to
peel it off his foot. Doug was terrified. He knew he was much more
ticklish on his bare feet than on his socked ones, and he knew he
had to do something, anything to keep it from happening.
"Please, please, please, please, please, don't take off my
socks! Do ANYTHING you want to me. Screw me right here, in front
of everyone. Tickle me anywhere else, for as long as you want, but
PLEASE, for mercy sake, DON'T TICKLE MY BARE FEET! Not my BARE FEET!",
begged Doug, as the crowd mocked him from all over the arena. "Please
don't tickle my bare feet, mister", they yelled, "I'm
a poor, weak, worthless excuse of a man. I'm just a little boy!
Don't tickle my bare feet!", then they roared, followed by
Once both socks had been removed, the Bear looked down at the sweaty,
soft, smooth, long bare soles that tapered off to ten nice, long
, well maintained toes that he held captive in front of him, and
he knew he was going to have loads of fun, and it would all be at
The Bear began to blow on his victims soles, which were so sensitized
by the tickling through the socks that even this forced Doug to
begin to giggle uncontrollably. "Gotta get these naked tootsies
warmed up, don't we?", teased the brute, "But don't want
much of the sweat to dry up. After all, warm, moist feet are the
most ticklish, aren't they? Aren't they?", he demanded. "YHEEHEES!
Wet fheet are mhoohoore THEEHEECKLISH!", screamed Doug, "Whatever
yhoou SHAAHAAY! Please don't THEEHEECKLE my BHAAHAARE FHEEHEET!".
"Shit yeah, I'm gonna tickle your bare feet!" announced
the Bear, " I'm gonna tickle your bare feet until you turn
12 shades of pink. Hell, I might even tickle your bare feet until
I've tickled you to DEATH!". with that, the full fledged tickle
attack was launched against Doug's helpless bare feet, and Doug's
hysterical laughter was at least ten decibels louder than it had
been when the Bear was tickling his socked feet. He was slowly being
tickled to death, and there wasn't a thing he could do about it,
and the crowd was loving his torment!
The Bear was an expert foot tickler, and almost instinctively realized
that his victim reacted best to a light, feather like touch. It
drove him mad, especially when the Bear let his fingers wander around
the base and in between Doug's toes, which he did, non-stop, for
Then he began to draw circles and designs all over the bare soles
of doug's poor, tortured feet, as he screamed with laughter and
pleaded for the torment to stop, "PLHEEHEESE, NHOOHOO MHOOHOORE!
YHOOHOORE KHEEHEELLING MHEEHEE! NOT THE THOOHOOES! I CHAAHAAN'T
STHAAHAAND HEEHEET!HAAHAAHAAHEEHEE! MERCY! PLHEEHEESE, HAVE MHEEHEERCY!
YOU'RE THEEHEECKLING MHEEHEE TO DHEEHEEHAATH!", to which the
Bear smiled and replied, "Are the poor little boys bare tootsies
ticklish? Aw, poor baby! Kitchy, kitchy, coo! Kitchy coo! Kitchy
coo!, I'm having SO much fun tickling these smooth, soft bare feet!
Tickle toes, tickle toes, tickle toes! Beg me to tickle your bare
soles, or I'll tickle your toes for an HOUR! Beg, or die!"
Desperately, Doug screamed, "THEEHEECKLE MY SHOOHOOLES! TICKLE
MHAAHAAY BARE SHOOHOOLES! PLHEEHEESE! Just STHAAHAAP THEEHEECKLING
MY THOOHOOHOOHOOES! I can't STHAAHAAND THAAHAAHAAT! PLHEEHEESE tickle
my SHOOHOOLES!". "Good boy!", continued the Bear,
as he mercilessly lightly scratched Doug's naked soles, driving
him out of his mind with ticklish agony.
After a long, long time, the Bear decided he would finish his poor
opponent off. He pulled Doug's bare feet back toward himself, lowered
his head, and slipped the toes of Doug's right foot into his mouth,
slipping his tongue between Doug's toes, licking along the webbing,
then up and down the sides, all the time wiggling his fingers in
a feather like manner all over the pink soles of Doug's bare feet.
To make matters worse, the Bear now brought his own bare toes against
Doug's lower sides, his main 'sweet spot' on his upper body, and
began to wiggle his toes all over on the naked skin. He was tickling
Doug on five places at once, and all Doug could think about was
why couldn't he die and end this agony.
After 15 minutes of this unbearable torture, the Bear finally took
his mouth off of Doug's toes, stopped his assault on his sides,
and simply ran his middle and index fingers up and down the soles
of doug's bare feet, and asked, very softly, "Ya give?",
to which Doug, now barely able to speak, screamed, "YHEEHES!
I SURRENDER! HAAHAAHAAHAA! I GIVE UP! HEEHEEHEE! YHOOHOOU WIN! HAAHAAIE
GHEEHEEVE HAAHAAP! I SURRENDER! I SURRENDER!! HEEHEEHEEHAAHAAHAA!".
A massive smile formed on the Bears face. Winner and still champion!
But he wasn't finished with his prey. Not yet.
"Submit!", the Bear demanded. Doug's mind, whirling about,
his body in absolute ticklish agony, couldn't understand what else
his opponent wanted from him. He had completely humiliated him,
Doug thought, why is he still demanding more? But that couldn't
matter at this time. Doug had to do anything and everything to make
the tickle torture stop. "I SUBMIT! HEEHEEHEE! DYOU WIN! HAAHAAHAAHAA!
I GIVE UP! I SURRENDER! I SUBMIT!HEEHEEHEEHAAHAAHAAHOOHOOHOO!",
and Doug immediately began to slam his right hand down on the mat
three times, his tortured mind remembering that this was the sign
of submission "in wrestling. The crowd went crazy. They knew
what the ref had meant when he said the loser was "on his own!".
The triumphant Bear gave his prize another two minutes of toe tickling
to make sure he was tickled helpless, then he stood up, pushed his
tickled helpless victim over on his back, and placed his own naked
right foot on his conquered victims belly, holding his hands up
in a sign of triumph, as the crowd went berserk! But he still wasn't
done, and the crowd knew it, and loved every minute of the anticipation
of what they knew was coming next.
The Bear quickly tickled Doug's stomach with his toes for about
a minute or two, just to keep him completely helpless. The Bear
had never forgotten that tent in Doug's shorts, and noticed that,
even after hours of tickle torture, it was not only still there,
but there was a distinct wet spot there, a sure sign of pre cum.
He smiled fiendishly, reached down and grabbed the elastic rim of
Doug's trunks, and, with a quick single motion, pulled them down
his legs, over his tortured bare feet, and off his body. Doug was
now only wearing his jock strap, but he was still way too weak to
even think about doing anything about it.
Now, having his prize exactly how he wanted him, the Bear proceeded
to get Doug where he wanted him. He again used his foot to flip
Doug back on his stomach. Then he stood over him, at his waist,
reached down, grabbed his helpless prize around the waist, and hoisted
him up, laying Doug's back on his chest, and flinging his legs over
his massive, hairy shoulders, so that Doug's left leg was over the
Bear's right shoulder, and his right over his captors left, with
both legs bent at the knees so Doug was being held upside down with
his legs spread apart, no way to bring them together, and his 'family
jewels', covered by nothing more than his stained jock strap, completely
exposed. The crowd roared their approval. They knew what was coming.
The Bear knew what was coming. Doug could only pray that what was
coming was not going to be more barefoot tickling. He could stand
anything but that. At least that's what he thought.
The crowd began to chant, and, hearing them, Doug began to scream,
for they were chanting, "Milk him! Milk him! Milk him!".
The Bear didn't keep his public waiting. Instantly, he moved his
right hand over the area right between Doug's scrotum and rectum,
an area almost totally unprotected by the jock strap, and, holding
Doug in place with his massive left arm, began to tickle Doug on
the exposed flesh there.
Doug had never been tickled on this spot before, and couldn't believe
how much it tickled! He screamed with laughter, so much that he
couldn't even form words to beg for mercy. Not that any would have
been shown, and he knew that. As he laughed, his swollen penis kept
pressing against the cloth of his jock strap. The more the Bear
tickled, the more Doug squirmed, the more he squirmed, the more
his member rubbed against the cloth, and the more it rubbed against
the cloth, the closer he came to orgasm. After no more than ten
minutes of this, Doug became rigid, left out a loud moan, and shot
his load into his jock strap.
The Bear continued to tickle him until he was sure Doug had been
milked dry, and the crowd was roaring its approval. Once he was
convinced Doug was done, the Bear dropped his conquered victim to
the mat, grabbed his ankles in an ankle lock and, announcing to
Doug, "You know you are much more ticklish after you've cum,
right?", began to go to work tickling Doug's soles with his
fingers, while he used his teeth and tongue to torture Doug's ultra
ticklish toes. The Bear was right. Doug couldn't believe it, but
he WAS much more ticklish now that he had orgasmed, especially as
his torturer was tickling him on his absolutely most ticklish spots.
He was laughing so hard he couldn't even form words to beg the Bear
to stop. all he could do was laugh and squirm in absolute ticklish
Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, Doug passed out, the
sound of the crowd roaring, "Bear! Bear! Bear!', echoing in
When Doug finally came too, he was on a table in his dressing room,
naked, with a towel draped over his privates. Artie was sitting
in the corner, and when he realized his wrestler was coming around,
he walked over to the table. "You alright, kid?", he asked,
"I told you this wasn't going to be a normal bout, but you
wouldn't listen, so don't blame me. For whatever it's worth, they
loved you and want you back next week to take on Freddy Tickler.
He wears gloves with feathers on each finger, and uses them to tickle
his opponents pink.
I told them I was sure you wouldn't be interested, though".
Doug looked at his agent in total disbelief.
"Are you kidding?", he asked, "Where do I sign!".
THE END ?