Round One:
The scene: the last days of World War II. Hitler's Third Reich is falling and allies are beginning a long march through Germany. When they capture Adolf Hitler, the once-feared warlord will face ultimate humilation in answering for his war crimes. But rather than flee, Hitler has locked himself in his private chambers with his most trusted secret general, a yellow felt puppet known only as Bert. The two haven't exactly been getting along these days, what with fighting the losing side of a war and all, and they are now engaged in the petty game of laying the blame. Who is in fact to blame for the fall of the Reich? Is it Hitler, whose inept leadership and crazy rants essentially guaranteed that his success would be short-lived at best? Or is it Bert, who has been leaking Hitler's secret plans for months now for his own amusement and who convinced his pal Hitler to invade Germany's Russian allies because Stalin managed to beat the muppet at poker after a night of drinking, chain smoking, and prostitutes? There's only one logical way to determine who is really at fault. That, of course, is a battle to the death.

Unfortunately for Hitler, he's not exactly skilled at...well, anything, let alone a fight to the death. He knows how to call upon his storm troopers to take someone to a death camp, certainly, but the SS has secretly been loyal to Bert from the beginning. Bert, on the other hand, is a sadistic bastard who has been tormenting folks since before Hitler was born. He starts by smacking Hitler around with a number of open palm strikes, and then lights several cigarettes and puts them out on the dictator's skin. As the final insult, he grabs Hitler's mustache and deftly rips it off as though it were simply a piece of cloth velcroed to Adolf's upper lip. Round One goes to Bert.

Round Two:
Hey, it's time for a history lesson! Not many of you may know this, but Hitler was incredible obsessed with his mustache. Several of his teachers and advisors told him to grow out the sides, to which he would always throw a fit and insist that one day everyone would wear his mustache. So when he sees the world's latest fashion statement get torn off and casually thrown aside, he flips out and goes into a beserk rage. His blows do little good against Bert's boneless form, but the muppet is surprised by the sudden burst of rage, and finds himself blindsided when Hitler grapples with him. The two wrestle around for a moment until Hitler realizes that Bert has gone limp. Picking up his former friend's crippled form, he finds that Bert has no legs, which explains why he was always conveniently behind a shelf or counter. It turns out that Bert is (surprise surprise) just a puppet. Hitler laughs nervously and tosses the felt plaything aside as he begins his final plans for the arrival of the allied forces. Round Two goes to Adolf Hitler.

Round Three:
Humming softly to himself and convinced that he has won the fight, Hitler fails to notice as Bert's dull eyes begin to glow red and his puppet body begins levitating. Thanks to a devil's deal that Bert made with the archaic horror Cthulu, he is no longer bound by his muppet form and has become a being of pure evil only loosely associated with the sewn-together cloth that make sup his mortal shell. Hitler turns around to see a sight of pure horror as Bert's eyes glow red, his mouth spouts flame, and slimy green tentacles grow out in the place of where limbs are supposed to be. The warlord's mind shatters and he is reduced to a gibbering wreck as the tentacles grasp Hitler, restraining him. With his free arms, Bert grabs several sticks of dynamite, shoving them up Hitler's ass and setting them off. When the allies finally arrive, they find the supposed greatest threat to the free world in bloody chunks all about his office. Bert slips away unnoticed in the confusion.