Badasses of Songdom: Triangle Man v. Yoshimi

PHUTATORIUS
Badasses of Songdom resumes today after a hiatus of nearly three weeks. Reigning champ Triangle Man has felt a little disrespected since his controversial victory over The Wizard back in April. There's been argument in the blogosphere about whether to credit him for the win. Should a challenger's forfeit go in the books as a successful title defense? Should it not count at all?

All this is eating at T-Man's reputation — and his nerves. He wants a straightforward fight. He wants back in the ring with a solid challenger, so he can take the guy down and bring the focus back on what matters: his raw, crushing aggression. I know Triangle Man wants these things because I've got his agent calling me all day long to tell me. Really: it's the sort of thing I'd be content to hear once, maybe twice. But he won't leave me alone:

Get on the stick, Phutatorius, and get me someone who can FIGHT.

Like I haven't been trying. Like it's just the easiest thing in the world to work the phones and line up anyone, much less a true contender, to fight Triangle Man, when he's well-rested and really pissed off.

Which brings me, at Mithridates's recommendation, to Yoshimi.
More...
WHO? This is T-Man's agent again, howling at me over his cell phone.

Her name is Yoshimi.

Never heard of her. You couldn't line up Mack, Ziggy, somebody with a name?

We've been over this. Mackie's still Upstate. He's not even parole-eligible until June. And Ziggy's all sucked up into his mind right now. But Mithridates says this one's a fighter.

MITHRIDATES SAYS she's a fighter? Phutsie, look: T and I are getting tired of all these tomato-can challengers. My guy wants a taste of blood on his lip. Just a taste, and none of your people can even touch him. You keep this up, this chick comes off like Rigby did, and it's over. We'll go do the tournament circuit in Europe.

Suffice to say, then, that I've personally got a lot riding on this fight. I need Yoshimi to make this interesting. And it wouldn't break my heart, either, if by some miraculous turn of events she actually wins. Might get a couple of miserable prima donnas out of my life.

So let's get this party started. We're going steel cage here tonight at the Stambaugh Auditorium. No holds barred: anything goes until somebody says "uncle."

Redneck rings the bell, and we're started. Gotta say here, Yoshimi doesn't look like much. Japanese schoolgirl-type. Skirted, demure. Serious eyes, but not very physically imposing, that's for sure. T-Man isn't impressed, either:

"Are you lost, little girl? The Hello Kitty convention is three towns over."

Up here in the booth next to me, Mithridates groans. "Can't he do better than a Hello Kitty joke?"

Yoshimi glares at Triangle Man.

"Hey, look over there!" T-Man points. "Isn't that Pikachu, with Princess Toadstool?" Yoshimi purses her lips, keeps her eyes fixed on her opponent.

Mithridates: "This is just frickin' offensive. Did I say she's a black belt in karate?"

Triangle Man makes his move. A sudden swoop, plunging one vertex at Yoshimi's throat. But she's gone. Behind him, in fact. She taps him on the shoulder. He turns around and spits.

"She can move," I say to M'dates.

"Damn right, she can. She has to discipline her body to fight those evil machines."

"Evil machines? Where?"

"Never mind," Mithridates says. "Just watch."

Triangle Man makes another move. Yoshimi glides out of the way. T-Man runs smack into the side of the cage. He's starting to get his back up just a little bit right now.

"That's all well and good," I say, "but at some point she needs to fight him. And I don't think she's strong enough."

"She's been taking lots of vitamins," Mithridates assures me.

"I suppose every little bit helps."

Triangle Man smacks a fist into an open palm. "You can run, but you can't hide, little girl." Yoshimi doesn't answer. "Do you ever have singalongs at school? 'Cause I've got a song you might know. Jump in anytime you like. It goes a little bit like this: 'TRIANGLE MAN, TRIANGLE MAN, TRIANGLE MAN HATES YOSHIMI! THEY HAVE A FIGHT —"

THWACK!
   THWACK!
      THWACK!

I didn't even see it happen, but Yoshimi just landed three blows — one on each of T-Man's three corners, and she snapped all three clean off. Three, tiny, bloody triangles are lying hacked off on the bottom of the cage, and The Champ is just standing there: dazed, confused, six-sided now.

"Yeah! YEAH YEAH! You see that, Phutsie?" Mithridates is beside himself.

Triangle — er, Hexagon Man is trying to recover himself. He rubs a couple of his blunted corners. Still sharp enough, he thinks, to buzzsaw over this little Japanese beeyatch —

THWACK!
   THWACK!
      THWACK!
         THWACK!
            THWACK!
               THWACK!

Yoshimi again! As best I can figure it — and I'll have to check the slo-mo replay to verify this — she just dealt him three hand chops, two foot-sweeps, and a roundhouse kick. Again, all on the corners, and again, all clean hits. Snapped all six right off. Triangle Man drops to the ground. She's completely disarmed him. Turned him into a frickin' irregular dodecagon.

"OH, POW! HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT, BITCH?" Mithridates crows.

Yoshimi stands over her near-vanquished foe, arms poised for further action. She cocks her head, as if waiting to hear the Magic Concession Word from Triangle Man. It doesn't come.

THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!

If I knew the Greek word for 24, I'd know what to call Triangle Man right now. But I don't, so I'm gonna have to go with 24-o-gon. I dunno. Maybe just gon-er's the right word.

For the first time tonight, Yoshimi speaks. Softly. She's barely audible, but we've got Vercingetorix down at cage-side with a parabolic mike:

"Any last words, Champ, before I turn you into a circle?"

"Un —" Triangle Man starts, then stops himself.

"Yes?" She dangles an open fist over him.

"Uncle."

THEY HAD A FIGHT. YOSHIMI WINS. YOSHIMI.

Now somebody get a broom and dustpan to scrape up the several shards of our beaten champ.