>>214610798
Lad Five saunters in, belly overhanging like a muffin top, breaths heavy already. Prediction: The weight's a weapon now, but Warwick's got heart. I say Davis digs deep and wins.

Ding ding! The obese teen charges, a human wrecking ball. Warwick sidesteps, but the kid's arm catches him, slamming him into the turnbuckle. Ouch – shoulder jars! Warwick bounces back, targeting the knees with low kicks – thwack, thwack! The lad's legs wobble like jelly. He grabs Warwick in a bear hug, squeezing tight, air whooshing out. Warwick's face reddens, but he stomps the instep – crunch! The boy releases, howling. Warwick follows with hooks to the jaw, teeth flying in a spray of blood. Down he goes, defeated. Five out! Cheers from the family: "Keep going, Warwick!"

Here comes Lad Six, matching obesity, sweat already beading on his forehead. Prediction: Warwick's bloodied, but unbowed. He'll turn that fat against him – victory for Davis!

Bell! Lad Six lunges with surprising speed for his size, fist smashing into Warwick's cheek – bone cracks, swelling instant. Warwick reels, vision blurring, but counters with a groin kick that folds the kid. As he bends, Warwick climbs his back like a monkey, arm around the neck in a sleeper. The obese boy thrashes, fat quivering, slamming backwards into the mat – Warwick grunts in pain but holds on. Face turns blue, veins pop – surrender! Six defeated. Two more down, so the fatness escalates again. These next challengers are verging on morbidly obese, folks – waddling warriors at max fightin' fat!

Lad Seven, a colossal thirteen-year-old, belly like a beach ball, thighs rubbing as he enters. Prediction: This one's a tank, but Warwick's clever. I predict a hard-fought win for our hero.