In a shocking turn of events, the city of Perth has embraced a new contact sport that combines the physicality of rugby with the theatrical flair of a dramatic poetry slam, and it’s not what you think. In an effort to secure their place as the sporting capital of Australia, local officials have unveiled “Competitive Assault” – a sport where a contact is made, but none of it serves any traditional sporting purpose. The game begins with two teams made up of overly enthusiastic locals, equipped only with foam weapons and a stunning lack of restraint. Participants must engage in a series of mock “attacks” on opponents who are required to dramatically exaggerate their pain while simultaneously reciting the most confusing lines from Shakespeare. The aim? To score points for creativity, engagement, and sheer spectacle—there are no actual points for physical skill, which has led many to call it "the Shakespearean version of rugby, only with more melodrama and fewer medical bills." Local resident and self-proclaimed “Competitive Assault Aficionado,” Barry O’Donnell, stated, “I came out here looking for rugby. I left with an 18th-century emotional breakdown.” When asked about strategy, Barry passionately explained how reading sonnets aloud while dodging at least three “attacks” from his team member’s pool noodle has become a nuanced art form. “It’s all about the delivery, mate! If you can’t get the right inflection while pretending to be stabbed in the back, what’s the point?” Official rules are decidedly loose. Teams must score points not just by how well they attack, but also by the audience’s reaction—which has led to the highly competitive practice of baiting boos and cheers. “The better you can fake your injury, the more support you get from your fans,” enthused 22-year-old Amy Murray, who recently suffered a paper-cut but has claimed it as a badge of honor in her pursuit of the “Best Fake Injury” award. But the city has taken things up a notch; last week, in a stunning display of community involvement, Perth’s mayor swapped his ceremonial robe for a foam helmet and participated in a game. He quickly became the star of the event after being “gored” and dramatically flopping into a nearby fountain, shouting, “To foam, or not to foam—that is the question!” Spectators are unsure whether this was a display of athletic prowess or an attempt to launch a career in competitive drama. While some in the community are embracing this newfound craze, others have raised concerns. “I don’t know about this Competitive Assault,” said concerned local resident and accidental participant Margaret Jenkins. “I just wanted to enjoy a quiet afternoon at the park, but now everyone’s battling with pool noodles while chanting, ‘Is this a dagger I see before me?’ Truly, what has our city come to?” Local bars have also jumped on the trend, introducing themed drinks like “The Dramatic Faint” (a Plymouth gin cocktail that literally requires the drinker to faint before they can finish it) and “The Tumble” (an overwhelming mix of everything on the bar menu, served only in two-gallon jugs). As Perth continues to ride the wave of this nonsensical yet oddly entertaining sport, competitive assault teams are preparing for their first international championship: a grand battle in which they will face off against a local interpretive dance troupe, much to the delight of almost no one. So grab your foam weapon, rehearse your best line from “Hamlet,” and get ready to plunge into the wild world of Competitive Assault—because when it comes to contact sports, Perth is here to prove that taking a hit is all about the drama.