Being good pals with Don King (we met him in prison way back in the 70's, when he was jailed for kicking a man to death. We watched his back in exchange for wacky hairstyle tips, and the promise that if he ever made it big as a fight promoter, he'd hook us up with choice seats.), we decided to take him up on his invite to see "the greatest rematch of all times", between Evander Holyfield & Mike Tyson. We hopped a plane on Friday, (first class, of course) in which we spent most of the 5 hours doing magic tricks and performing feats of strength, much to the delight of our fellow passengers. Upon landing, we were whisked into a private limo & taken to the MGM grand, where we were given a top-floor suite. Jet-lagged, we drank all afternoon & hit the brothels around 8pm. After partaking in some legal prostitution (so good), we made our way to the strip for some gamblin' & boozin'. Being the weekend of the "big fight", we encountered many a celebrity on the floors of the casinos. Sheer terror played some blackjack with Rue McClannahan, Negative Creep shot craps with Placido Domingo, & Finster beat the shit outta Don Rickels at Bacarrat. We gambled well into the wee hours, grabbed some drink girls around 5Am & hit the sack. Saturday morning, we kicked the girls out & went downstairs to rest by the pool. We ran into an old, dear friend of ours -Wayne Newton- and encouraged him to participate in an impromptu macarena at poolside! He reluctantly agreed, thrilling the hotel guests to no end. We left to the applause & cheers of the crowd & went back to the brothels with Newton in tow. A few hours later.... it was "Shooowwwttiimmmee!" as ring announcer Jimmy lennon calls it. We met with king, exchanged pleasantries, admired each other's wacky coif's, got the tickets & split. We got to the arena, and the crowd was brimming with excitement! We walked in during the Christie Martin fight & upset our fellow fight fans by yelling "Show Your Tits", whenever there was a lapse in the action. She waved to us on the way out of the ring, proving that she can take a joke. The arena started filling up during the next match, between has-been Julio Cesar Chavez, and some tomato can. The 3 of us were seated between Sir Mix-a-lot & Conrad Bain. Sheer terror traded "snaps" with mix, while Creep showed the "this is the church, this is the steeple" trick, to a visibly disturbed Bain. Finster spent the duration of this boring fight flashing the round card girls. After Chavez dispatched the bum he was fighting, The excitement was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Tyson began his walk to the ring, blasting rap music. We threw up a quick gang sign to the Tyson entourage, to show we werent some spoiled crackers, but O.G. hustlas, there to see a dope-ass fight. Next came Evander Holyfield, to the strains of gospel music. We unfurled a parchment containing the 10 commandments to show Holyfield we ain't no bitch-ass athiests. He nodded to us in acknowledgement of the word of the lord. The anthem was sung, and the fight began. For 2 rounds, Holyfield battered Tyson & threw him around the ring like a rag doll! It looked as if he was on his way to his 2nd loss in a row, when Tyson decided to end the bout early, not by coming up with a devastating KO, but by rippin' a hunka Holyfield's ear off! Wow! We were laughin so hard, we almost pissed our pants! After a few minutes of chaos, the fight was allowed to continue, when Tyson BIT HIM AGAIN! Oh, the mirth! Well, the round ended before Mike could work on Evander's nose, and suddenly, Mills Lane stopped the fight! Tyson was disqualified & pandemonium broke loose! The 2 camps rushed the ring, along with several ushers & uniformed policemen. We, not wanting to be left out of a possible riot, jumped into the ring as well. We were smack dab in the center of the canvas when we noticed it. The glorious chunk o' cartiledge that Tyson ripped off! JOY! We pocketed it quickly, and milled about the ring. Seeing Tyson ranting, we decided to try to cheer him up by playing a lil' joke. We poked him in the ass with our lil' parchment roll, & when he turned around, we pointed to Holyfield & said- "Yo, he did it". This enraged him & he went on a rampage, swinging at cops & cursing the Gods. We jumped right into the fracas, throwing punches at Ferdie Pacheco- the fight doctor, cutting open the ring buckles with our pen knives, & ringing the timekeeper's bell with Jeff Goldblum's face. After order was restored, we left the arena with Sir Mix-a-lot, Yanni, & Danny Bonaduce and hit the brothels yet again. The rest of Saturday night remains a blur, as Yanni was packin' some serious hash & we got pretty wrecked. We woke up sometime Sunday afternoon, and we were in serious need of some vittles, so we headed down to the restaurant in the lobby to chow down. Unfortunately, we were so hung-over, we forgot to get dressed, so they refused to seat us. A brief fist fight ensued, and they wound up sending us room service (on the house, provided we promised not to frighten the patrons again). Later on, we decided to take in a little bit of culture, so we hit some local museums to deface some precious artwork & we hit the brothels again. Sunday night, we cruised the strip, signing autographs and mixing with the little people. We stopped at Caesar's Palace & did a lap in their giant fountain. Then we went to the Mirage to poke some fun at Siegfried & Roy. We bribed an usher to let us in a rear stage door, and while they performed their famous "disappearing tigers" trick, we ran on stage and did the patented P.I. "Flaming Nutsac O' Mystery"© trick! The audience was thrilled, but Siegfried & Roy chased us off the stage (no sense of humor.) Later on, we did some more gamblin & headed back to the brothels. Monday morning, it was time to pack our stuff & say goodbye to the splendor that is Vegas. After a quick stop at a souvenier shop to buy Pinto a tiny pair of dice, and 1 more quick stop at the brothels, we boarded our plane back to NY, & wound up back at P.I. Headquarters, where we proceeded to stuff & mount our own personal piece of boxing history- Evander Holyfield's ear chunk! It's now proudly displayed on the mantel, right between Tupac's right nut & a tiny wooden bust of Mama Cass. After all the fun we had, we couldnt help but bust into a festive rendition of "Viva Las Vegas".... Then we had some beers and went to sleep.