You win some, you lose some.

Ivan limbered up in front of the mirror. Gorgeous hunk!
Kissing the lucky charm hanging around his neck he slipped into the paper-thin, skin-tight costume. State-of-the-art technology guaranteeing 100% protection, emphasising his remarkable physique, his manhood.
‘Here he comes. Ivan the Invincible.’
The crowd roared.
Strutting, he circled the arena, high fiving, blowing kisses then climbing the ladder and posing on the mouth of Big Bertha before sliding into darkness.
Waiting confidently for the cannon to fire, Ivan never imagined this thirteenth performance could end differently.
Unaware his lucky charm lay on the caravan floor.