If you’ve never heard of Lucha VaVoom, consider this an informal intro to Los Angeles’ seminal burlesque/wrestling show where every conceivable racial stereotype is huddled inside a wrestling ring to square off with one another in mortal combat. Round 1, for instance, is Lil Cholo, the ese from East L.A., vs. Chocolate Caliente, who would have been right at home running from whitey in a D.W. Griffith film.

As if all this wasn’t enough, there were the lovely legs of Legs Malone and Lucy Fur — the latter of whom pulled off some nifty acrobatic stunts with her stunning pair of gams, helping the show live up to its tagline of Sexo Y Violencia.

So, Round 1: Chocolate Caliente vs. Lil Cholo. After a somewhat awkward beginning — Lil Cholo didn’t quite know how to handle his 6’5” opponent — the trash-talking started and the two were going at it. Honestly it was never much of a contest as Lil was, yes, very tiny (not that way, you pervs) and the crowd’s ladies were in the mood for brown sugar pretty much the whole time.

Round 2: Goofy music cues the Crazy Chickens, a twin pair of nutty boids who did their best to tackle the evil Dirty Sanchez and his huge hairy bush. Fortunately there was Joey Ryan to come to the rescue. With his Aqua Netted pompadour he looked a bit like Brad Pitt in Cool World crossed with David Lee Roth. The only thing that would have made his entrance more perfect was Van Halen’s “Jump”  (I guess “Escape” [If You Like Pena Coladas"] will have to do). He decked Dirty Sanchez as best he could, before getting sanchezed himself with the latter’s (very) dirty underwear. Hey, who’s hungry?

***INTERMISSION*** Yay, strippers!

After the beer had done its work, it was finally time to head out…but then came the midgets (sorry, little people).

Round 3: First, the Lil chicken, who managed to take on his opponent El Jimador mainly by latching onto his back parasite-style. He didn’t last long, but fortunately he got some back-up from his twin triplet-brothers, who swarmed their towering opponent and took him down. This was, of course, before the referee was hurled out of the ring and replaced with a midget version of himself.

So all you L.A. denizens: put this on your to-do list. And out-of-towners, make it a point to do the same. What’s lacking in cheap beer is made up for in robust quantities of cleavage and beefcake.

Words by Jeff Nau. Photos by Zoetica Ebb.