Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the most bonkers bout you've ever laid eyes on! I'm Bradley Walsh, your ringside commentator, and tonight we've got a scrap that's straight out of a fever dream. In one corner, the legendary Warwick Davis – actor, icon, and apparently, a pint-sized powerhouse ready to rumble. In the other, an endless parade of thirteen-year-olds, entering one at a time, each replacing the last as Warwick sends 'em packing. But here's the twist: after every two defeats, these lads get fatter and fatter, bulking up until they hit the max wobble that still lets 'em swing a punch. Warwick's family – his lovely wife Samantha and the kids – are right there on the sidelines, cheering him on like it's the FA Cup final. Hold onto your seats, folks; this is gonna be brutal, thrilling, and utterly mad!

First up, a fresh-faced thirteen-year-old, all gangly limbs and spots – let's call him Lad One. Prediction: Warwick's got the experience, the grit; he'll swat this one like a fly. Easy win for Davis!

And they're off! The bell clangs, and Lad One charges in, fists flailing like he's playing tag. Warwick, nimble as a leprechaun, ducks under a wild haymaker and counters with a sharp uppercut to the gut. Oof! The kid doubles over, winded, but Warwick's not done – he grabs the lad's arm, twists it into a lock, and slams him face-first into the mat. Blood sprays from a split lip as the boy howls.
Warwick's family erupts: "Go on, Dad! Smash 'im!" Samantha's pumping her fist. Lad One taps out, defeated, dragged off whimpering. One down!

Next, Lad Two – same build, same eager grin. Prediction: Warwick's warmed up now; this'll be quicker than the first. Davis takes it!

Bell rings! Lad Two feints left, but Warwick reads it like a script, sidestepping and delivering a vicious knee to the thigh. The kid buckles, thigh muscle screaming, but he lunges back with a headbutt attempt. Warwick weaves, grabs the collar, and yanks him down into a chokehold.