Without even lifting a finger, Frankie Boyle emerged as the unlikely winner of Kelvin Brawl, the Scottish wrestling grudge match between feuding Glasgow comedians Greg Hemphill and Robert Florence.
The final event to be staged at the city's historic Kelvin Hall before its planned redevelopment as a museum annex, Kelvin Brawl saw Hemphill – one half of Chewing the Fat and Still Game – narrowly defeat Florence – one half of Burnistoun – in a tag-team match in front of a crowd of almost 1500, only for both comedians to be jumped by a gang of masked wrestlers dressed like paramilitary troops. To use classic wrestling parlance, it was a "rush-in".
Removing his balaclava, the leader revealed himself to be Boyle, who launched into a rambling, often hilarious speech demanding Scottish independence and magic mushrooms while his henchmen put the boot into the nominally victorious Hemphill.
Some commentators wring their hands over whether wrestling is a real sport or just sweaty pantomime. As Boyle stalked the squared circle waving a wooden truncheon, it felt more like performance art, or the belated return of the legendary Kelvin Hall Circus.
It was a surreal ending to the night, but that's what it needed to be. Even if I got a doing in the process," said Florence, nursing bruised ribs with painkillers the morning after.
Boyle's sermon – where he suggested independence was achievable if every audience member recruited just 1000 others to the cause – was a suitably bizarre capper to an incident-packed night.
During the build-up, Hemphill and Florence had traded insults on Twitter and YouTube. Former collaborators – before his own success with sketch show Burnistoun, Florence wrote material for Hemphill – it was unclear how much of their antagonism was based on actual rancour.
The trash talk got briefly physical on STV's Scotland Tonight last Tuesday. An early sucker punch from Florence sparked a clumsy scuffle before the official matches even began, to the delight of the multi-generational audience.
The seven bouts had echoes of UK wrestling's heyday of Big Daddy and Giant Haystacks, although there were also flashes of WWE-style glitz.
Wolfgang, a meaty six-footer with Patrick Swayze hair, made his entrance on a Harley Davidson, filling the hall with engine fumes before leading the crowd in the classic World Of Sport chant of "ea-sy! ea-sy!"
A scrap between burly James Scott and the gothic-looking Jack Jester extended into the south stand and featured the unsporting but entertaining use of a large folding table.
The biggest cheer was reserved for boxer Jim Watt, who won his world lightweight title in the Kelvin Hall in 1979. He made a stirring speech, only to be interrupted by English wrestler Johnny Moss, a gigantic but unpopular winner earlier in the night.
"I hope they knock down this dump with you still in it," Moss growled, jabbing a finger at the 64-year-old's chest. Watt promptly landed two body blows and a left hook that sent Moss crumpling to the mat. The place erupted.
For the main event, Hemphill, dressed up in red longjohns, led a glowering entourage including his Still Game co-star Gavin Mitchell and the diminutive wrestler CPT, as well as his tag partner Red Lightning.
The flighty Florence left much of the wrestling to his partner Grado, Scottish wrestling's most charismatically doughy superstar, who softened up the rangy but inexpert Hemphill. At one point, with the lanky comic sprawled over a turnbuckle, Grado even bit him on the backside.
A potentially match-winning pin for Florence turned to disaster when he attempted to take a selfie pic in the ring. "Greg was out cold so I thought I'd have time to get a photo, but my fingers were so sweaty I couldn't get the camera on my phone open," he said.
"I turned around to see Red Lighting and it was a horrendous moment. I knew pain was coming. My vanity finished me off."
Hemphill had just minutes to enjoy victory, before Boyle's blitzkrieg.
Florence was left mulling over his future. "I think people might have seen all this as a dalliance for Greg and I, but promoting wrestling has always been a life goal of mine.
"I keep telling people I've got a blueprint for the future of Scottish wrestling. And even though today I'm covered in bruises and full of painkillers, it's still all going to plan."