Fight Me, Fucker! Fight Me!

Santiago vs Duke (Thunders Arena)

A roomful of puppies has less roughhouse energy than Santiago. The Argentinian likes to rumble and goads Duke out of his Rushmore-like reserve with a volley of taunts and anti-American insults. Soon enough Duke's ready to airmail the overheated hunk's butt back to Buenos Aires, the question being "Can he beat the hothead?" Duke's bigger and heavier than his opponent, but the two are close enough in bulk and volatility to make this battle, released months ago, both tempestuous and cum-worthy.

Thunders Arena is the hub of muscle, much as mail-order quarterlies were in olden times. Wrestling offers a way to put biceps, pecs, thighs, shoulders, and tempers on show. In a clever overture, Santiago and Duke show off their peaks and definition, the camera alternately giving viewers each man's point of view of the other as they size up. Then the battlers steamroll over each other's brawn, crunch and stretch their bulk for seventeen minutes. In the end, the victor delivers a monologue as he swaggers towards the swimming-pool to cool off. Every bit of it sizzles like a thick, juicy steak

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