The Last Word Comment

If you're naughty, the Hoff-alike will get you

Derwent Bar. 7:56 PM. A vast and inebriated crowd has gathered for the Mr. York. The contestants line up along the side of the bar for the first round, General Purpose Manliness.

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Derwent Bar. 7:56 PM. A vast and inebriated crowd has gathered for the Mr. York. The contestants line up along the side of the bar for the first round, General Purpose Manliness.

Henry James Foy, Dan Taylor, Gruffudd Jones, Alex Fink and some random others are to lock horns in a series of challenges, judged by Diminutive Parliamentary Hopeful Claire Hazelgrove, TV Supremo Anna Bucks and Amusingly Named Dancer Harriet Waghorn.

At the starting whistle Gruffudd Jones immediately starts doing press-ups. Henry James Foy, the editor of this esteemed publication, is eliminated after lamentably failing in the fiendish challenge of imbibing a quantity of liquid.

Anna Bucks strikes Taylor smartly on the back of the head, causing a hollow boom to echo around the bar. For a second, silence reigns. Then, with a resounding crash, the Hoff-alike, YUSU's single and all-pervasive fetishistic obsession, crashes through the wall from the ornamental pond beyond. Water floods the room, ruiningseveral hundred pairs of Ugg boots.

The broken remains of a mallard hang limply from the Hoff-alike's bloodstained jaws. Dropping it into the lake-water sluicing around Derwent Dining Hall with a sad, gooey splash, he lets out a single, mournful roar.

The assembled audience, judges and man-petitors freeze in terror.

The Hoff-alike is hungry.

Only one figure is not rooted to the spot by sheer terror. It is Gruffudd Jones, sports-dwarf extraordinaire and Welsh national leek-tossing champion 2004, 2005 and 2006 - though the last competition was tragically called-off after 238 people were gored to death when an unmanacled leek ran amok among spectators.

Gruffudd does not freeze.

Gruffudd is not afraid of the Hoff-alike.

Gruffudd has not even noticed the Hoff-alike.

Gruffudd is still doing press-ups.

Wisps of steam are starting to emanate from his ears.

Then the Hoff-alike strikes. He snatches a second-year computer science student up by the laptop strap and consumes him whole.

Pandemonium erupts. Screaming, the assembled crowd runs, pushing and shoving to escape. Only one man-petitor is brave enough to stand and face the terrifying monster.

Resolute, only his eyes betraying the fear in his heart, Alex Fink faces the Hoff-alike across the devastated dining hall, twirling Claire Hazelgrove about his head like David's sling. As the Goliath charges, his trademark red life-float stained a darker red with nerd-blood, Fink loses Hazelgrove, who flies true through the air, catching the Hoff-alike smartly between the eyes and spraying it with radioactive goo.
What happens next has been immortalised in song.

Blinded, the monstrous creature stumbles across the hall towards Gruffudd, who is by now glowing white-hot, too bright to look directly at, and is doing one press-up every ten-millionth of a second. The Hoff-alike stumbles towards him, trips over a broken table, topples towards Gruffudd, and...

A man doing press-ups at that sort of velocity is highly unstable at a molecular level.

There is a loud bang, a terrible ghastly sucking sound, and then nothing remains of either Hoff-alike or Gruffudd except a mess of molten rock.

Gruffudd is awarded the Mr. York title posthumously, and Alex Fink is now the President of the Democratic Republic of Congo. The use of Claire Hazelgrove is now banned in British military operations.

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1 Comment

Edward Amoroso Posted on Saturday 11 Jul 2020

W.T.F.

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