Be sure to don your snazziest pinstripes and fedoras tonight, fellas, because the dishy dames of lady wrestling are getting all dolled up for a scrappy ring-a-ding-dong-dandy at the hooch joint and it’s gonna be the cat’s meow!

You’re gonna blow your wig when you get a load of a mick moll named Becky Lynch, a real looker who has gams that don’t quit and will make you wish she was your main squeeze.

Tickets to the catfights will run you a five-spot, but it’ll be a right swell wingding when you and your pallies set eyes on kittens like Nikki Bella, whose bubs are the bee’s knees, and Ah-soo-ka, the mysterious minx of the Orient. There’s not a bug-eyed Betty in the lot!

Think these saucy shebas are just a gaggle of pretty lookers or dumb Doras? Horsefeathers! A gal like Trish Stratus is hotsy-totsy, but can also pug it out with a sockdollager like a zozzled Reuben on a toot.

So don’t be a palooka, old boy! Hop in your jalopy or ankle on down to the speakeasy and take a gander at these dollfaces having a brouhaha that promises to be the butterfly’s boots!