Mortal Combat: Brian Blessed vs Terry Wogan

First and foremost, many thanks to excellent Dark Fiction author Damon Lord for asking me the Formspring question that sparked this piece.

Secondly, if you don’t know who they are, Brian Blessed is a formidable English Shakespearean actor and adventurer, and Terry Wogan is a charming Irish comedian and TV/radio host.

Brian Blessed (L) ... and ... Terry Wogan (R)

Blessed dominates the early betting. In the lead-up to the fight, he has several high-profile supporters, which help assure him massive popular backing, eventually surging to 3-2 on. Wogan, by contrast, barely manages to scrape up to 5-1. It doesn’t seem to dent Wogan’s morale any, though.

As proceedings start, the two men square off. Blessed is grinning from ear to ear like a bull gorilla on crack, letting out regular bellows as he psychs himself up into a slaying mood. Wogan, by contrast, looks even smaller and more frail than usual. He’s got a little glint in his eye though, and you can see people wondering if the charming Irishman has something up his sleeve.

The bell goes, and Blessed leaps forward with a mighty “Yaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”. He’s swinging even before he lands, a wild haymaker that forces Wogan to back up immediately. Blessed uses his momentum to pull himself forward at a swift stumble, relying on mass to overpower his enemy. Wogan totters back, and then grunts as Blessed’s head smacks into his chest. Wogan twists slightly as the headbutt lands, deflecting the worst of the impact, but he’s unbalanced as Blessed’s shoulder smashes him. The two men stagger apart, Wogan grim, Blessed wild and fierce.

Wogan dances back a couple of steps as Blessed makes a beeline for him. At the very last instant, he sways aside, groaning with the effort, and slides his leg forward. Blessed trips over it and falls. Wogan grins, but Blessed is already moving, pulling his legs underneath himself to get back standing. He looks angry, his hands balling into fists.

As Blessed lurches back to his feet, Wogan backs up, looking slightly nervous. His hands half-raise, placatory. Blessed growls, a long, low sound. He shifts his weight, and then springs forward, crazy beard flying. Wogan reaches out to meet his charge, and then, just as they close, he pushes himself away from the bigger man, falling backwards. Blessed grins ferociously, but Wogan is slipping beneath him.

Suddenly Blessed screams, a horrible, tortured noise. Wogan has bit straight into his bollocks, so hard they’re almost squashed flat. Blessed rears, flailing and shrieking, but Wogan is reaching round. There’s an odd gleam, and then suddenlly blood gouts. Blessed screeches, and tries to reach behind himself, but sheets of blood are gushing from his ripped-out asshole. Wogan rolls clear, a horrible grin on his face, the previously-concealed knife plainly visible now. Blessed sags, weakening quickly, and Wogan steps up to him, lays a gore-soaked hand on his shoulder, smiles pleasantly and stabs his shiv through the luvvy’s neck.

With one last, horrid gurgle, Brian Blessed collapses. The Irish Assassin twinkles to the crowd, bows, and walks off to claim his prize.