Two dozen gigantic fat men in diapers and sandals shuffled across 7th avenue yesterday morning from the Hotel Pennsylvania into the tubby, tubby destiny awaiting them at Madison Square Garden. 

Literally, tens of tens of Sumonisatas will almost fill the more modestly-priced seating sections of parts of the Garden for the  World Sumo Challenge tonight at 8 PM, where prize purse of $13,000 dollars promises to keep these ginormous gladiators Super-Sized for weeks to come.

While more discerning Sumo snobs might scoff at a fight-card with but three native Japanese combatants surrounded by the pudgiest pugilists the Former Soviet Bloc Countries have to offer, the mood on the street crackles with electricity scented more of crispy, crispy bacon than of the usual ozone and urine.

All of New York's ironic obscuro-sports aficionados will testify that tensions outside the Garden feel more taut than a wrapped thong diaper as Torsten "Der Todespringer" Scheibler, Gold Medal winner in last week's Osaka Sumo Tourney and 418-pound flab of fettesau fury and Deszo Libor, the Hugongous Hungarian and Osaka silver-taker, prepare kick the sacred sand and slap the sacred man-teets, twin towers of power not even the ladyboys of the Taliban can knock down. 

Unfounded and debunked rumors claiming that Levan Altunashvili, Jondo Dabrundashvili, and Levan Ebanoidze do not hail from the Republic of Georgia but rather from the suburbs of Atlanta, Georgia, spread like wildfire this afternoon before the truth shone through.

While Mr. and Mrs. America might cozy up in the warm safety of their living rooms for Game One of the White Sox-Astros World Series (Sox in 6), the real action in the sporting world this piss-drizzly October night happens here in New York City with this pandemic outbreak of fighting fat men and the arena that loves them. 

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