When I was in grad school at Dartmouth, I worked summers with a traveling carnival. Alcohol and narcotics, and the intense passions they can unleash, were the cause of some real catfight holocausts. I have seen a huge bearded fat lady fight to near death with a dwarf. I have seen a woman with 2 chins and 3 tits beaten senseless by a timid-looking accountant.
The unquestioned best occurred when our female mime was taunted by a female rodeo clown and her rodeo clown posse. The rodeo clown talked some Jerry Jeff Walker- quality shit, as she was both very drunk and very confident she could beat any fucking mime, and with her friends egging her on, there was no way she was backing down. And rodeo clowns are renowned for their toughness.
To the shock of everyone, the female mime silently took her apart with a quiet efficiency that was hard to believe. The fight ended when the female mime stripped the female rodeo clown, tied her to the spinning wheel of her lover the Knife Thrower, stuffed cotton candy in her ears and candied apples in her mouth and ass, and rammed an air hose up her pussy, turning it on until the rodeo clown blew up like an animal balloon. She later mimed to me that this was her favorite finishing hold, and she had named it the "Reverse Queef."
The shame and humiliation of the loss reached abject levels for the female rodeo clown. She was shunned and quickly banned from clowning, Auguste, Hobo or Rodeo, forever. I heard she soon committed suicide.
So if you are a real catfight enthusiast, I suggest you drop whatever profession you are in and join a traveling carnival. Good pay, with benefit programs that often include dental and as many rehab stints as you require. A generally convivial atmosphere, but you’ll probably want to carry a knife, and after an incident or 2, pack heat.
