Werewolf the Podcast Ep. 190: The Devil Saves an Angel – Gabriel vs Gormant Finale | Brawl in the Hall

The Brawl in the Hall reaches its explosive finale.

In Episode 190 of Werewolf the Podcast, the brutal supernatural showdown between Archangel Gabriel and the monstrous Gormant spirals completely out of control — with cheating, chaos, and cosmic consequences.

Just when Gabriel is moments from destruction, an unexpected force intervenes…

Lucifer steps in.
The Devil makes a choice.
And unleashes the infamous… Kittens of Doom.

What follows is one of the most outrageous, violent, and darkly comedic climaxes in the series so far.

Featuring:

• The commentary chaos of Professor Simon de Montfort & Wil Werewolfsen
• The reluctant referee: Bosworth the Djinn
• Ringside confusion with Albert Sackcloth
• A reality-breaking mix of fantasy, satire, and absurd humour

In This Episode:

• Gabriel vs Gormant – Final Round
• Rule-breaking, divine interference & demonic tactics
• The return of Lucifer’s most dangerous creation
• A shocking, grotesque, and hilarious finish

Perfect for fans of:

Dark comedy, fantasy battles, supernatural satire, chaotic storytelling, and absurd British humour.

⚠️ Warning: Explicit language, graphic imagery, and ridiculous levels of nonsense.

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Transcript

Welcome back to the Drum roll, Please. The Brawl in the Hall. 

I am the fight Professor Simon de Montfort, and this is the Werewolf of War Wil Werewolfsen. (cheers)

Hello

We are covering the entanglement of entropy, the fight of what's not so right- the rumble of the unhumble that is occurring in the ring tonight. 

Yes, we have seen a lot of good, bad and indifferent divisive moves here today in this ring, but we have to tell you that neither the Gorgeous Gabriel nor the God dammed Gormant have played by the rules of the Ref, our very own Bosworth, the Genie of meanie. 

Yes, there have been some egregious acts done by both sides. It's been utterly epic. So, let's get back to it. What's happening, Wil?

Things have changed in a significantly weird way. The Gormant was beating Gabriel into the canvas only a moment ago. I have no idea why he is CATailing the onslaught. We thought that the Ref was going to have to pounce at some point and draw this catfight to a close. 

Yes, it seems as if he left his victim on PURRpose, does it not?

It was as though he had seen something that was going to do him some sort of CATastrophic injury. He definitely is not FELINE good at this point. His corner are having kittens in the corner.

Gabriel, on the other hand, looks like a dead cat in the sun. He has lost at least one life if not more. Luckily, he is like a cat and has many to use.

It did seem that the Gormant was the cat who got the cream, did it not? Then he withdrew his claws and left the Angel like a scalded cat. 

Yes, can we stop now?

What cat got your tongue?

Please stop. It hurts.

Come on, you can claw one back. Look I will paws and let you have a cats chance.

Please stop, Wil.

I don't want to carry on, thank you. It seems I am allergic to cat puns. 

My aPawolgies. (tee hee)

Shit!

That's it am done.

Thank fu... Oh, wait. Wait, we have a message from our ringside expert, Albert Sackcloth, about what is happening.  

Aye, Allo, It's me sen ere. Albert't (t'tiny at'tom) Sackcloth at't ringside now. It were a total surprise for't Gormant thathas lead to his abandonment't of the beating that he was construing on't Angel. It't right't surprised me to see what hadbeen done. It was as though the Gormant had seen something that frightened him to't very pit of his black 'eart Simon.

What was it, Albert?

Well't it were something 'ee weren't least expecting Simon. I told yous.

Yes, but Albert, we don't know what that is. The idea is that you tell us because we could not see it. 

<whispered> For fucks sake, where did they dig this one up from.

Oh, right'nt Oh. <long pause>

Albert!!!!

Oh, aye, raightie ho.

I ken that he ain't frittened of much, the big bugger...

Do you mean the Gormant?

Aye, a course, the bloody Gormant, are you backwards a something, lad? Who'd you think a meant? Queen of England?

<whispered> Give me strength.

<pause>

Eh what wer that. Which question d'you want me to answer, lad? An't told you about Gormant yet and yous'r changing subject.

Eh?

Guinness lad. Tis secret to't strength. Guinness, Eight pints a day and two more on sundies. There you go. Can't believe yur askin me that when we're in't most excitin part of the match you balm pot?

Aye this wer't something that even Gormant was terriffied a. I mean when I saw it, I were'nt even a nat tadgers scared.When you spen time in't trenches, like I did during't war, then you can't be scared by nowt but the rats. Great big bloody rats size of... size of... like erm...big bloody rats... rats I tell ye... big bloody rats.

Ahem

I mean, take these young sods back to't Belgium front, and where would they be. Well, they'd be at front in Belgium, but they'd also be right upta't neck in mud, blood and STD's. Aye, STD's lads. That's posh letters for't clap. For't clap lads. 

Tha don't know what its like when you get a crusty rotten toes from't constantly dipping em int dirty water of trenches.Eh, we all had trench foot... Crusty toes. Oh, aye, you could break ya toes off when thi dried. Often, all we had to eat were crusty toes. Used to be thankful if you got one with a chewy toenail. Last you a good hour that if you were careful. 

Albert!

Don't bloody rush me, young man. Oh, aye STD's. That't is posh for't clap! Tha were it. Aye, we all had crusty toes from't trenches, and all had crusty cocks from constantly dipping them in't French dirty whoor...whenches. Best description of em. 

Albert, ahem, Albert. 

What?

Erm, the reason for what's happening with the Gormant.

The bloody who?

Albert, you're in Accrington, mate. Remember breath. It's over. Time has passed. Come back to us.

Never in my mind. I left so many mates out there you know...(sniffle)

Yes, Albert, I know, but you are kind of here in order to talk about the wrestling.

What wrestling. You can't wrestle in't trenches. 

No, Albert, you're not in the trenches now you're back in Accrington.

Oh. What am seeing is what is actually happening is it?

Yes, Albert, this is not imagined. This is real. The things you are seeing are real.

What about the giant rats sitting there? Bloody rats!!!!

No, that is Thomas Twitchnose and his kids. They are...(how do I explain this to a fuck nugget) They are fairytale folk. Hmmm, are they real? Is a deep question, but. Hmmm! For the purpose of this story, they are, and they are a nice family. He has a little shipping firm... She does for folk. Thomas jnr is an exceptional... Anyway.

Well, there was the gas and't experiments they were doing on us...

Albert!

Right't! Where were I? Aye. Gormant is shinning up't post in't opposite corner to where a small black cats been sat on'tside of't mat. It was as though the Gormant was frightened of that little black cat, that wer sat, on't apron of't mat. Fancy that? That big huge twat, scared of a tiny cat...

Fucking poetic.

Well, we will leave Albert in whatever part of his mind he is in and left for him to function with.

Let's have some respect, though, for those who served. It's why we are here and things.

So Wil the Gormant is afeared of felines. That's a turn-up for the book. Who knew that?

Well, to be honest, no one did until episode 186 when it became apparent that we needed some sort of premise that would allow us to fight an unfightable and unbeatable monster that we had created and also, through dubious links, be able to reintroduce some of our favourite little characters back to the show. 

(Silence)

Smash the glass wall much?

Well, you did ask why. 

Bosworth.

Right, what the bloody hell is going on now? The Gormant, the gigantic firey minotaur thingy with wingy things. Yeah, that big, scary, bull-headed bastard monster was standing shaking and quivering in his corner whilst bellowing and yelling at something in the opposite corner of the ring. 

My eyes go to a search of the corner. What could it be? I see a right little black cat in the corner, sat watching the Gormant with a lot of interest.

What's that doing there? It always amazes me that cats can just look calm and relaxed even in a mad maelstrom of energy like this bloody hall at the moment. Look at it in its own little bubble of calm-like space.

I take a look back at Gormant standing in his corner. He is definitely terrified by... Well, by that little cat. 

Gabriel, on the other hand, is semi-conscious on his front, lying in a puddle of snot, blood and piss that has puddled out of him since he landed on his chest at the centre of the ring and the puddle. 

That were a proper kicking that he were getting, and to be honest, I thought the Gormant was going kill... erm, whatever the Angel can be done by done to him and stuff.

I was waiting for the Gormant to cover him and call it a win. 

Well, I suppose I better do something about this nonsense, eh? I am in charge, after all. 

I ran over to the corner, and the cat inspected me as I ran as if slightly interested in me. I felt a bit of a dafty as I ran. Running at a little cat with a stressed and pained expression on my face was a bit strange, I suppose, but little did I know that this little cat was actually a demon, and seeing a stressed and pained expression upon a face was normal and pleasurable for her. 

As I got to the cat, she seemed to get bored with me and the whole thing. We had been snubbed. That way, cats can. How they can switch off the world and be at its centre.

Standing over the little cat, I did not have a clue how to get it off the side of the ring. I was tempted to kick it, to be honest, but probably not the best thing to do in front of this audience. 

As the cat ignored me, it became harder and harder not to punt it into the audience. I felt a little impotent, to be honest. I was supposed to be in charge. 

'Shoo?' I asked the cat. It really was a request more than an order. Those crescent-centred yellow pits of eyes looked at me briefly. In those eyes, I saw the death of worlds and a pitiless heart. You know what cats' eyes are like. I don't mean just this one cat. I mean, any cat.

After a good hard stare that told me, 'I'm choosing to do what I am going to do just now. Don't have any ideas that I would do this unless I really wanted to.' She skipped off the ringside and disappeared into the crowd. 

The relief for me was palpable. 

Gabriel had managed to get up off the ground and was healing almost... erm, Angelically. It was as though he was blessed or something. I mean, his recovery was properly miraculous.

The Gormant's reaction to the lack of the little cat was almost instant. Did he know the little demon that had been in that form? He weren't normally afraid of Demons. He was known to eat them if they pissed him off. 

He now towered over the crowd as he stood on the ring's top rope. He had a foot on either side of the ring post andwings and arms spread to the crowd. Ooh, he were preparing to do something terrible to the Angel. 

The crowd were going crackers as he roared and beat his chest like a right-bestial beast of a beast. He were right beastly and ready to prove it by a crushing leap from't top rope.

Gabriel had managed to get to his hands and knees in front of the Gormant. He pushed himself back and knelt before the Monster on the top rope. The crowd were in a frenzy. Some were begging the Angel to rise and respond to the beating that had befallen him. Some were giving voice to the Gormant, wanting him to crush and smush the Angel into compressed glowing goodness. 

And then the bastard did it. He did it right there in the middle of the ring. It were disgusting and so uncalled for. I can't abide that he would do something like that, knowing there were kiddies in the crowd. Honestly, I have seen some sick and twisted shit in my time. In fact, as a genie, I have granted wishes that have created some sick and twisted shit in my time, but this was... This was disgraceful. Gabriel knelt there before the remonstrating Monster and... I feel sick... He... Bloody prayed. Aye, prayed. 

Well, I can stand cheating, but this was beyond disgusting in my own eyes. He knelt there and lifted his hands before his chest before putting all his focus with closed eyes to speak... to his dad.

A spotlight of gloriousness spotted him out. A coruscating halo of light suddenly surrounded Gabriel. Cupids floated around his head, giggling and cavorting as they flitted about. Like little fucking flying fat babies. 

What a bastard Gabriel was. He knew this was something I could do knowt about. I can control magic but fucking faith that were another thing.

Fucking faith? 

I only had one thing I could do. I had to take the ultimate response. I walked over to the kneeling figure and smacked the big, shiny bastard right across the face with the hand of not God.

As he flew to't mat with the force that I had put into that slap, I placed me throbbing hand underneath me arm pit to try and elp it calm down.

The cherubs popped out of existence instantly. Thank fuck. The light shining down from the ceiling like a, well, heavenly spotlight went out, and the crowd went quiet.

I don't think they went quiet for any reason of reverence. They went quiet because good old Bozzy. The friendly Genie from the pub had messed up by slapping an Angel of Gabrie'ls standard. But, some bastard had to do it. You can't have bastards bringing faith into the wrestling ring. It's totally out of order.

Wil and the Prof

Oh shit. Did Bozzy just slap the praying Angel? Lucky bastard, I have wanted to do that ever since I met the bastard.

I am afraid he did slap the Angel Simon. It was not the smartest of moves by our resident Genie and part-time referee. I mean, does he not know who his dad is? Now, normally, when a kid threatens you with getting their dad on you, you can laugh about it, but Gabriel's dad does not mind killing most of the life on earth just to make a point.

The Gormant has ignored this, though, and he is going in to finish the Angel. He has launched himself off the top rope and is climbing to the height of the ceiling.

He closes his wings at the height of his fight and now falls. 

He is coming head first to Wil. He is going to bullhead spike the pitiful Angel. This is going to be Angelicide. I don't know if I can watch its. Oh, actually, I can watch because I want to see what's inside an Angel when they pop.

Why's she standing?

What?

Luci is standing and turning the mouth of her open handbag towards the falling Gormant. Is she trying to help the Gabe?

She must be Wil, but why? I promise you this will be some horrific trick or distraction. The bag will vomit forth the most plague-ridden slime-sucking demons she can muster. 

Oh, we know all about that, eh Simon, having had her on our side in fights?

Yes, the demon spawn she has developed has covered our backs in battle before, and they are not a sight to see. 

Her bag is now glowing with a pale white light, and what is that we can hear coming from the bag? Even the audience has noticed her nibs and is quietly watching her do her thing.

That's what is that? That's erm? Oh, god, no. She has gone too far. This could cause a total war between heaven and hell if she does this. She is going to release the... I can't bring myself to say it. 

The bag has burst, and a solid cone of... mewing fluffy kittens has been blasted at the falling Gormant. 

That must have been a very incendiary blast as the recoil has taken out Luci and half the audience. Jesus Christ! That Devil knows how to do Devilish things all right.

The Gormant has seen the wave of fluffiness fly at him. He has done what most of us can not, telling gravity to quit its pull and paused in the air. There is nothing he can do, though, to stop this incoming wall of cuteness.

I thought Bozzy had taken away any magic things from happening. 

Yes, but that my friend is the Devil. She does what she wants, and really well.

The kittens have hit the Gormant and are covering him, making him look like a big powder puff. A great big fluffy powder puff. 

Those things are starting to bite and tear into the Gormant's erm-heated stony flesh. What is he going to do?

He spreads his wings and flaps while trying to wipe the sticky fluffy creatures off himself. He is screaming bestially in agony. There is nothing he can do. 

Oh... urp... Oh God. Urp. Erm. I feel sick. They are eating him on the wing. Blood and gore are falling from the creature as he slowly flutters down to land in a pile of now wet, red, fluffy kittens. They are stripping the bones of the Gormant while he lives or unlives or whatever. This is horrendous.

He is lifting his hand as it is stripped. His head has fallen. No eyes are left, and the flesh of his face has gone, yet he is still trying to roar but only making silent cries. 

Wow

Wow

Gabriel crawls over to the pile.

They are not biting him, are they?

No, definitely not. They have stopped and are looking at him with those big, blue, cute, lovely eyes. Awww!

You did just see them shred a creature made from rock and lava did you not?

Oh yeah, but look at them. Sweet.

Lucifer is back up and walking to the ring. 

She is opening the bag again, and the Kittens of Doom are being hoovered back into it. 

How do all those thousands of Kittens get in that bag?

That's a bit of a stupid question there. It will all be parallel and relative, I am sure. 

That's the last one in the bag. And she is now leaning over the apron of the mat and speaking to Gabriel.

What do you think she is saying?

Well, am sure it's not about the price of milk in the local shop, eh?

Gabriel is making his way to the bony puddle that was once the Gormant and lying in it. That's confusing.

Yes, weird. Oh, but look. Bozzy is counting.

One... Two... Three. The Angel is the winner.

One... Two... Three. The Angel is the winner.