Days later, Influencer Boxing, Netflix Exhibitions, Power Slap and Bare Knuckle feel sorry for Professional Boxing, this luddite divorced from reality, and decide to take him shopping. The plan, they say, is to update him, drag him into 2025, and alleviate the sadness and confusion Professional Boxing carries with him to the park each day. They first give him a diagnosis and a podcast on which he can discuss his diagnosis ad nauseam. Then they give him a TikTok account. After that, they buy him an iced vanilla matcha in a plastic cup, a phallic-shaped dummy he can suck to produce bubble-gum flavoured smoke, and various pimple patches, all different colours. Finally, having buried him in clothes three sizes too big, they sit Professional Boxing down and explain to him what he is doing wrong, placing particular emphasis on his lack of drip and rizz and his predilection for drawn-out arguments and collecting belts. They suggest he should go away, take their advice, and reinvent himself. So, that’s what he does.
