[Cyclefrance]

The Brits are renowned for their preference for the long story joke, so, as not to disappoint:

Two guys were strolling round a fairground when they came across a wrestling booth. ‘Spend 3 minutes with Abdul the Turk and win $300!’ proclaimed the sign outside and above a picture of a hairy, greasy, bear-like, snarling and well-muscled individual.

‘Hmm’, said one of the pals, ‘I might give that a try – I could certainly do with the money.’
‘What makes you so sure you could win?’ queried his friend, ‘I can’t see you getting the better of that guy’
‘I wouldn’t need to fight him. I was a medallist sprinter at college and all I need to do is dodge him and out-run him. I reckon I’m quick enough to do that’

His friend wasn’t so convinced, but try as he may he couldn’t talk his foolhardy companion out of his idea, and 15 minutes later saw the two of them by the ringside, the ambitious challenger sitting on the stool in his corner of the ring and dressed appropriately for the occasion. The second appointed to the challenger gave some advice:

‘You’ll be all right so long as Abdul doesn’t get hold of you – and if he does, then whatever you do avoid his trademark hold – the double pretzel – no one has escaped it yet’

The bell rang and they were off. The Turk leapt at the young challenger who gracefully dodged his attack and proceeded to dance and sprint around the ring, dodging and weaving from every lunge and thrust successfully. Half way through the round he was still untouched and the Turk was not looking too pleased about this at all.

The Turk closed in once more, and just as it looked as though the challenger would be caught he performed the most remarkable turn and once again side-stepped the Turks’s angry grasp. But this time it had been too brave a move, for as he sought to straighten himself, the challenger’s foot slipped on a pool of sweat that had gathered on the canvas. He lost his balance and fell. The Turk was on him immediately.

The crowd roared and cheered – ‘ double pretzel, double pretzel, DOUBLE PRETZEL!’ they chanted, louder and louder.

The Turk took control. First one leg swung up, and over and down, then the other. Then an arm followed the same route, then the other. It looked to be all over as the Turk used his weight and strength to literally tie his opponent in knots. The Turk crouched down to lift the tangled mess from the floor and raise the shattered body above his head for the final blow.

The crowd roared even louder. Then suddenly, as if by magic, the challenger sprung free and seemed to have found a new strength. He slid behind the Turk and was able to hit behind his knees knocking him to the ground. Before the Turk could regain himself the bell sounded to end the round. The challenger had survived against all odds. The crowd went mad, and the brave opponent was carried from the ring to his dressing room

Some thirty minutes later, money collected and wounds dressed, he hobbled out to meet his friend.

‘My god, I thought you were done for, how on earth did you do it?

Well, I tell you, I thought it was curtains too. When he tied up my limbs my vision blurred and I thought I would pass out. Then for a brief few seconds I regained my sight and suddenly saw this pair of testicles hanging just in front of my face. I thought this was my last and only chance. With luck I could just reach them if I made a real effort, so I opened my mouth and stretched my neck forwards as far as I could, and took an enormous bite, clamping my teeth hard together and definitely into one of the them. And do you know, I would never have believed, had I not witnessed it myself, the strength that a person could generate by biting into his own bollocks!