My personal trainer (aka Wild Bull) showed me the difference between the uppercut and the lower end, between knocked out and knocked up. I worked on my technique, ran like a rabbit and went on a diet. So I was ready to crumble that day. My opponent was a good looking Lady called Demolitia. Silly name, I thought. When the bell rang for the 1st round I came at Her like a madman. She was quicker than a slimly eel in a bucket of snot, so I knocked out some air without ever hitting Her. Her first punch felt like being run over by a freight train. A long one. She could’ve finished the match there and then, but She didn’t. She wanted me to suffer. So I had several close encounters with the canvas, but Her punches were hard enough to knock me down, not out. She took me up to three hammering and humiliating rounds, then She got tired of me. She landed a devastating uppercut on my chin and it was all starry, starry night after that. She put Her foot on my head in a victory pose and the crowd went crazy. What a knock-out!