Duke made his way into the ring, a putrid grin on his face. His teeth were a slimey yellow, and then barley hid the pure stench of Duke's breath. He thought he was a shoe-in to win this tournament. He was bigger then most fighters in the back, and he felt he smelled worse. He always enjoyed drawing out a match as long as possible, making his oppenent smell him, and covering them in his nasty muck, before using his finisher, the swamp trap. He would grab them with his tail, and hold them to his ass, unleashing the fury of his digestive system do the rest. And of corse, after he won, he made his victim lick off some of the muck on his skin, which left them with the worst taste that would ever be in their mouth, the taste staying for months.
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