Fox: Good evening ladies and gentlemen and welcome to Super Celebrity Slugfest! I'm Fox McCloud...

Wolf: ...and I'm Wolf O'Donnell.

Fox: We've got a blast from the past for you this week, ladies and gentlemen as two iconic music duos from the 60's and 70's will do battle in an out brawl-out.

Wolf: That's right Fox, tonight, Daryl Hall and John Oates go head against Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel.

Fox: It's old-school vs somewhat older-school in a battle we like to call "That's All Folk!"

Wolf: Actually, Fox, I don't believe Hall and Oates were ever classified as Folk musicians.

Fox: Shut up, Wolf. Tonight we have a standard bar setting, complete with actual alcohol on-tap.

Wolf: And they even got those little dishes of complimentary peanuts.

Fox: Oh yeah, that'll be useful. Let's cross down to Michael Buffer at the ring.

Buffer: Lllllladies and gentlemen, in the left hand corner, with a total of 44 years and counting between them: Hall & Oates!

[The Audience Cheers]

Buffer: And in the right hand corner, with a total of 21 years, but more hits together: Simon & Garfunkeeeeeeell!

[More cheering]

Fox: Personally, I'm curious to see how this pans out. These artists are quite tame by today's standards, but who knows what dirty tricks these old guys have up their sleeves.

Wolf: The four combatants move to their respective corners. Let's go over to the ref.

[Chuck Norris rips the heart out of a ninja and kicks the corpse into the gong]

Fox: And that's the start of the match.

Wolf: Already the combatants are scrambling for weapons. Unlike the younger artists from the last match, they've wasted no time with bragging or insults.

Fox: Probably 'cause our writer doesn't know these guys well enough to write relevant quips.

Wolf: Fox! Remember what Master Hand said about becoming Self-Aware!

Fox: Oh...uh, you're right Wolf, it's refreshing to see that these gentlemen are letting their fists, feet and assorted blunt objects do the talking for them.

Wolf: Simon and Oates are already trading blows with pool cues and they look pretty evenly matched.

Fox: Meanwhile, Hall has gotten ahold of the darts and is flinging them at Garfunkel who - displaying remarkable agility for a man of his advanced age- rolls over the bar and takes cover.

Wolf: Oates gets in a lucky shot, rapping his cue across Simon's knuckles. Simon doesn't drop his cue however and...

*CRACK*

Hall: AAAARGH!

Wolf: Smashes it against Halls knee!

*POK*

Wolf: Following the blow with a jab to the face! Oates staggers and Simon presses the advantage, driving him back against the table!

*THUD*

Wolf: Simon has his cue to Oates' throat, pinning him against the table.

Simon: What's it like being a second-class, second fiddle? People like GARFUNKEL more than you.

Garfunkel: I'm right here, Paul!

Simon: Shut up, Art! Now hold still boy, for like a Bridge Over Troubled Water, I will lay you down.

Wolf: It looks like Oates is in trouble, but look! He grabs a cue ball from the table and smacks it against against Simons head!

*Thwack!* *Thwack!* *Thwack!*

Wolf: Again and again!

Fox: I guess he took exception to that fiddle remark.

Wolf: Well it's working, a dazed Simon drops his cue. Oates takes advantage of this and slams him onto the table, then climbs up after him. He grabs the rack and puts it around his opponents neck, places a knee on his back and pulls up hard, choking Simon!

Fox: That's pretty metal!

Wolf: I guess after all those years of living in the shadows of both Hall AND Simon & Garfunkel, something finally snapped.

Fox: Guess you can relate, huh, Wolf?

Wolf: What's that supposed to mean?

Oates: Why don't you Make My Dreams, old man?

Wolf: He keeps pulling back...oh no, I can't look.

*CRACK*

Fox: Oh SNAP! Simon pulls a Gwen Stacey!

Wolf: Woah, Fox! That is way too soon!

Fox: I'd be more concerned with Oates down there, Wolf. He's just sitting on the corpse of Simon, singing "You've Lost That Loving Feelin'" and chuckling maniacally to himself.

Wolf: Well, that's unsettling.

Fox: Let's see what Hall and Garfunkel are up to.

Wolf: Hall -out of darts- has seized the stuffed marlin from its perch and is furiously trying to skewer Garfunkel, who is only just managing to keep out of reach.

Fox: But Ol Arty is running out of room behind that bar. When is he going to fight back?

Wolf: Maybe he's just waiting for the right moment to strike?

Fox: I think it's too late for that, Garfunkel slips on a discarded dart and loses his footing just as Hall thrusts with the marlin...

*thunk*

Wolf: Ooh, right in the sternum!

Fox: I bet that stings!

Wolf: Hall throws his head back in laughter as Garfunkel pitches forward, landing heavily against the bar. It looks like this could be the end for Simon & Garfunkel!

Fox: Wait a minute, Wolf, he was stabbed, but he's not bleeding! What's going on?

Wolf: Garfunkel flicks his hand and something flies into Hall's mouth!

Fox: Whatever it is, it's having an immediate effect on Hall, he's choking! His face is turning red...

Wolf: Not only that, but I think he's starting to swell up!

Fox: I ask again: what's going on?

Wolf: Wait, I think I know! When Garfunkel crashed against the bar, he must have grabbed one of the complimentary peanuts and threw it down Hall's throat, triggering a severe anaphylactic shock!

Fox: So Daryl Hall is allergic to peanuts, huh? Who knew?

Wolf: I guess Art Garfunkel did.

Fox: But that doesn't explain how he could take a Marlin to the chest like it was a gentle breeze?

[Garfunkel dislodges the Marlin and throws it away. He reaches into his jacket and produces a leather-bound book. He inspects the cover, scowling at the hole punched into the front cover.]

Wolf: Wow, I heard Garfunkel was an avid bibliophile!

Fox: Saved by the collected works of John Steinbeck and a peanut; who'd a thunk it?

[Wolf looks at Fox]

Fox: What?

Wolf: You know who John Steinbeck is?

Fox: So just because I am impossibly good looking and the most gifted pilot in the known universe, I'm not allowed to enjoy reading?

Wolf: Not at all.

Fox: Then shut up, Wolf. Down in the ring, Garfunkel is coming out behind the bar to kneel beside Hall, who is too busy asphyxiating on the floor to fight back and covers his nose and mouth.

Wolf: Hall can do nothing but feebly twitch until he is finally still. Geez...

Fox: Stone cold Garfunkel!

Wolf: Uh-oh, looks like Oates has finally snapped out of his little psychotic episode and has noticed Garfunkel standing over the body of Hall.

Oates: Raaaaaaargh!

Fox: Oates charges, ready to tear the folk legend a new one, but Garfunkel neatly sidesteps and sticks a foot out, tripping Oates.

Wolf: Oates goes down hard on his side. He's trying to get up again, but Garfunkel drops a knee to his chest.

Fox: Oates struggles, but Garfunkel has him pinned. Wait a minute, Garfunkel presses the spine of his leather-bound tome to Oates' neck, draws back his other hand and brings it down...

*CRUNCH*

Wolf: OH MY GOODNESS! That's definitely a crushed windpipe!

Fox: Now THAT is freaking METAL!

Wolf: Thus ends a surprisingly bloodless, yet somehow more brutal match. With Art being the last man standing, the winners are Simon & Garfunkel!

Fox: I think we can all take a lesson from this: don't mess with Art Garfunkel!

Wolf: I don't know about you Fox, but I was not expecting that.

Fox: Me either, Wolfie, me neither. Well until next time folks, I'm Fox McCloud...

Wolf:...and I'm Wolf O'Donnell, and you've been watching...

Both: SUPER. CELEBRITY. SLUGFEEEEEEEST!

Wolf: I wonder if I can get an autograph from Garfunkel?

Fox: Well you won't getting one from any of the others, are you?

Wolf: Dude! Way too soon!

Fox: Shut up, Wolf.