Lesbian Oil / Mud Wrestling Show in Lisbon
What's Included
- Welcome shot for everyone, because your group should never be sober for something this stupid
- Ice-breaker drinking games, complete with punishment shots for the weakest links
- Private venue in the city centre
- Mini inflatable wrestling ring drenched in oil — your own budget Roman Colosseum
- Two professional female performers staging three rounds of eroti oil wrestling
- Stag involvement in Round 3
- Two dedicated reps running the entire operation while your group contributes with nothing but noise
- Pre- and post-event contact with the organiser, because someone in this group needs a functioning brain
- Hot showers available after the show (and trust us, the stag will need one physically and emotionally ) Must bring: towel and toiletries.
Pro Tip
No filming any nudity. This is entertainment, not evidence for future divorce proceedings.
Starting From
€850
Group Size
Up to 30 people
Availability
Mon–Fri 9.30PM | Sat from 2PM | Sun all day
About This Experience
We all knew the stag wasn't getting away with a quiet night — but absolutely no one prepared him for this. The Lesbian Oil Wrestling Show is what happens when two dangerously hot performers decide to stage the most absurd, slippery, touchy, over-the-top wrestling “match” your feral group could ever dream up.
A Last Bad Decision exclusive in Portugal. Seems like nobody else is stupid enough to run this...
After a couple rounds of nonsense drinking games — the kind of activities only your group could proudly call “warming up” — the stag begins wondering why he’s been dragged into a Jiu Jitsu dojo to do the same thing he’s been doing all weekend: necking shots.
Round 1 The inflatable pool of oil is revealed, and two Victoria’s-Secret-gone-feral performers enter like queens who took a wrong turn and ended up in an underground fight club. Oiled up. Sliding. Grappling. Grabbing. Doing moves so hypnotic they immediately rewrite every man’s brain chemistry.
Round 2 Things escalate. We’re talking hair-pulling (the fun kind), rolling around in oil like two Greek goddesses fighting over the last bottle of tequila, and moves so unnecessarily dramatic you’ll swear you booked a telenovela by mistake. Pieces of bikini start flying off like they’re allergic to commitment.
Round 3 This is when the trap snaps shut. The stag gets grabbed, dragged, and launched into the ring like a sacrificial goat. The two performers instantly team up, circling him like predators who’ve spotted the weakest member of the herd. What follows is a double-team strip show engineered to melt his soul, destroy his dignity, and haunt the wedding slideshow if anyone ever discovers evidence of it.
Meanwhile, you lot will be screaming, howling, malfunctioning, and gasping for oxygen as your soon-to-be-married friend gets emotionally and physically folded like a lawn chair.
This is theatrical chaos. This is Olympic-level nonsense. This is the kind of story that sticks with your group for years — like glitter you can’t wash off no matter how many showers you take.
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