"There's nothing worse than when you think you're going to win, and you don't," said another adviser. "It was like a sucker punch." quote in CBS news item
The Black Professor beat up the White Bishop in last night's club fight.
The Bishop represented the patrons who yearn to decriminalize rape, which parishioners celebrate as a deus ex machina for procreation.
This is a popular concept among the true believers who populate the King James Version of the late Confederate States of America.
Unfortunately for the Bishop, the club fight was held in the current United States of America where the godless socialists reside. Taking a break from smoking dope and engaging in unauthorized sex, the unwashed masses cheered on the permissive Black Professor.
The Great White Hope, as the Bishop was unofficially known, wore his trademark pressed white trunks.
He won an early round on points.
In the later rounds, however, the Bishop suffered a series of body blows as the Black Professor, a middle weight in blue trunks, landed devastating left hooks.
As the fight wore on, the Bishop kept his chin up, making a tempting target of his glass jaw.
When the Professor smashed it, the moral uplifter went down for the count.
The aged referee, his white shirt flecked with the Bishop's blood, finished counting.
Straightening his black bow tie, the ref walked over to the Professor's corner.
"I hate these Great White Hope pugs," the referee told the Professor's manager. "Their people always over match them."
"He wasn't much of a fighter," the manager replied. "He was fighting out of his weight class."
The referee considered this for a moment. "These Great White Hopes," he finally said, "They never got no class."
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