A) It's in Japan
B) It's frikkin' AWESOME
What's that, you say? Wrestling is fake? Not a sport? Shut it, shitfist. I just got back from Scotty's going-out-of-business sale, and I've got a truck full of giant, sharp pixie sticks that will blow your fucking shit up.
This is Japanese Fluorescent Bulb Fighting. It has recently eclipsed international viewership of both indoor competitive curling AND women's topless archery (not pictured). My friends, there are few things in life more satisfying than the explosive pop of an enormous gas-filled bulb when hurled or swung against something. I can only dream of one day smashing a bundle of them over an obese Asian man's bald head (single tear).
Have you ever chucked an armful of them into an empty dumpster? It's pretty boss because you won't get hit by as many microscopic shards of glass or inhale as much of the poisonous cloud that's released. Imagine if Frosty the Snowman was a mass murderer and he had Chipotle Mexican Grill for lunch. Sometimes, the pieces don't break the way you wanted, so you have to climb in the dumpster and try again. Totally worth it. Screw you, OSHA!
So imagine my glee when I found this little gem. For a full gallery click here. Sadly, they are no more gory than the fat bastard pictured above. For a list of rules, don't click anywhere. THERE ARE NO RULES! BWAA HA HA HA HA HA HA!
I now invite you to my more civilized, Western version. To keep the Asian theme going, it features the frail but wily George Tekei as the ringmaster from Beyond Thunderdome:
Listen all! This is the truth of it. Fighting gets to killing, and killing
gets to warring. And that was damn near the death of us all. Look at us now! All
busted up, and everyone talking about hard rain! But we've learned, by the dust
of them all ... Bartertown learned. Now, when men get to fighting, it happens
here! And it finishes here! Two men enter; one man leaves.
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls ... dyin' time's here.