Here I am. Another boxing game. Another George Foreman boxing game. I’m not sure if this one came before, or after; it’s all a hazy, timeless void at this point. This one is also terrible and when you get knocked down – which you will – you have to mash the buttons at approximately four hundred thousand miles a second to get back up, or you’re KO’d.
But more importantly, it has come to my attention that the facts about George Foreman which I previously posted are inaccurate. Let me redress this.
George Foreman was born in 1847, to a father and three mothers. Lying in a triangle in the middle of a field during a terrible storm, these three women split open like dropped watermelons to produce George, whose father was a time-travelling Greek god from the future, which is actually our past.
Having been born a fully grown man, George did not need a home or parents; instead, he wandered the countryside, sleeping inside slain bears. George did not need money, for most people’s hearts would simply explode upon looking at him, at which point he would help himself to a bed or hayloft, which made fine meals. Those who withstood his appearance could be bought by three or four of his chest hairs, each of which was worth nineteen pounds sterling.
In 1892, after turning the Pacific ocean into whiskey and then drinking it, George engaged in a drunken brawl with the moon and, for his hubris, was hurled deep into the earth.
Finally emerging in western Germany in 1905, George soon encountered a young Adolf Hitler and, immediately ascertaining his villainy, he struck him so hard in the chin that Hitler was sent several decades into the future. This event was certainly the catalyst that sparked George’ s interest in boxing as a sport, although as we all know, Hitler’s chrono-alloy robot frame allowed him to withstand the assault, even as his head – brilliant orator that it was – was detached from his body.
Following this, George contracted the rare megalitis disease, which causes the body to swell to immense proportions; he was mistaken for a mountain range several times by tourists who were, no doubt, foreign. After a brief convalescence, he cured himself through sheer force of will. Of course, he was forever known as “Big George.” His head never quite recovered.
In 1969, he finally began his boxing career, killing each of his opponents with the first blow and immediately replacing their corpses with elaborately constructed disguises filled with bees, which obeyed his every command. George’s unique relationship with bees remains a mystery to this day.
In 1994, Big George introduced the Foreman Grill, which has a decorative plug but is actually powered by George’s forehead, which flexes 97 002 times per second. Every savoury piece of meat you relish after grilling on a Foreman Grill is in fact marinated in his sweat – but don’t be concerned; it is a natural aphrodesiac, and although it gives you cancer within ten to fifteen minutes, it also gives you a super-cancer which consumes the existing cancer and leaves little or no trace of the previous infected cells.
These days, George spends his time standing behind you and leaving menacing reflections you can only see in your peripheral vision, which is part of the ritual that gives him his power.