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Round Nine
Suspended once again from the ceiling, Joe Palooka and Billy Baxter are given time to collect themselves and get their bearings.
The General gets out of his chair and walks over to the naked boxers.
The General addresses the naked athletes:
“Now my friends that wasn’t as bad as you had feared, now was it? I hope you got as much enjoyment out of your first experience with anal penetration as much as we all did. You almost wore out my men.”
“However we must address the matter of your break-in. Such criminal behavior should not go unpunished. I am sure you would agree: were you the ones whose home has been broken into.
“Fortunately for the both of you, we have orders to do you no lasting harm. Herr Chancellor Hitler wants to decide your fate himself when he arrives later. So we have come up with a solution.”
He is handed a large long-handled fly swatter. Slapping it soundly in his left open palm, he continues: “You may think that a fly swatter is a rather mild device that can squash an insect effectively but generates little in the way of pain.”
“That notion will be put to the test momentarily. I believe that with a forceful enough blow, the sting it produces will be delicious and palatable, and yet not severe enough to even break the skin or shed a drop of blood. Let’s see if I am proven correct, shall we?”
The squad is handed springy-handled fly swatters. They approach with malevolence, loudly slapping the mesh rectangles in their open palms. They circle around behind the suspended athletes and playfully tap their butt cheeks with light blows; just enough to rattle and u-nerve the naked muscle men.
The Champ is struck the first blow. The loud crack bounces off the walls.
Putting aside all playfulness, the Nazis raise their arms high in the air and land loud smacks on the firm flesh. Joe and Billy snap their heads back in response to the stinging wacks. Blow after blow is rained down upon them.
The naked boxers try to dance around the floor to avoid each blow. This amuses the General. But no matter where they step to, a stinging smack of the swatters meets them. The air is filled with the sounds of strong slaps and responsive grunts and yells.
“Soldiers take a break for a few moments.”
The Colonel walks over to the Joe Palooka and Billy Baxter who are huffing and puffing to dispel the pain they are in. “From your wonderful responses, I expect that now you have been convinced that a common household fly swatter can be a punishing instrument when used by the right people,” he gloats.
He rubs his smooth hands over the injured flesh of of each naked boxer, slowly and invasively taking pleasure in having reduced these impudent Americans to their present state of pain. Taking each flaccid cock in each hand, he slowly strokes them to further infuriate and humiliate the men under his control.
The Colonel takes his seat next to the General who nods in approval. He signals for the swatting to commence again.
All of a sudden those in the basement of the Nazi plantation house notice a commotion outside on the property. There is a lot of whooping and yelling as well as a few rounds of ammunition being discharged.
The doors burst open and native warriors rush into the room.
The Nazis don’t have time to arm themselves and are easily overpowered.
Joe Palooka and Billy Baxter are released. Their jungle clothing is found and they rush out the door.
They radio the Naval High Command and bombers are sent to intercept the submarine that Adolph Hitler is allegedly in.
It sinks to the bottom of the Pacific Ocean, all hands lost.
After Nine Rounds, Joe Palooka and Billy Baxter are the victors by a knock out in the Tenth Round.
The Bell rings and the Bout is declared over!