THE WRITING ON (AND OFF) THE WALL NO MATTER WHAT, IT'S WIFE, BY DECISION.

Byline: TOM HOFFARTH

Wanna see some real bad blood? Watch a husband try to convince his wife that tonight's Oscar De La Hoya-Fernando Vargas pay-per-view brawl is worth coughing up $54.95.

Husband: Honey, I'm ordering the fight tonight and having some of the guys over.

Wife: You're doing what with who and where?

--Round 1: Even.

Husband: I told you about a week ago. That's why I cleaned up the living room.

Wife: Oh, so you did the cleaning. Thanks for the help. So who's part of this week's must-see fight?

Husband: It's Oscar, your dream guy, remember?

--Round 2: Husband.

Wife: Well, ... so who's he fighting?

Husband: Probably no one you've heard of.

Wife: Try me.

Husband: Uh, Fernando Vargas.

Wife: Oh, your dream guy. Now it makes sense. That no-good thug should be behind bars right now. Why could you like him?

--Round 3: Wife.

Wife: By the way, how much is this one gonna cost us?

Husband: Not that much.

Wife: Which means, what, $195.95?

Husband: Naw, it's just $54.95.

--Round 4: Husband.

Wife: You must be out of your mind. What did we spend last month for that fight everyone had to see?

Husband: Tyson-Lewis, it was about the same. That was three months ago.

--Round 5: Draw.

Wife: So that means, just this year alone, you'll have blown more than $100 of our money on about an hour-and-a-half worth of TV with nothing to show for it.

You know how far I have to stretch $100 every week for this family? You don't think a nice dinner out every now and then would be worth fifty-four-ninety-five?

--Round 6: Wife.

Wife: Or how fifty-four-ninety-five might get a plumber out here to finally fix that sink - drip, drip, drip - in the kitchen that I've asked you about since 1994?

--Round 7: Wife.

Wife: Or how fifty-four-ninety-five could have got us at least one blank VCR tape so that you wouldn't have had to record that special ``Simpsons'' episode over the only known copy of our wedding video?

--Round 8: Wife, 10-8.

Wife: Not to mention the last time your loser friends were over. One of them tried to get the cat drunk. Another one used the kids' wagon as a street luge and busted it to pieces in the driveway.

And then there's the one who left a half-eaten piece of pizza in the bathtub and ``accidentally'' used one of my good towels to wipe tomato sauce off his T-shirt because he was afraid his wife would yell at him.

Husband: That was me.

--Round 9: Wife.

Husband: Listen, I don't say anything about how you spend fifty-four-ninety-five on your haircut each time and it just looks the same.

Or how it cost us fifty-four-ninety-five to get a locksmith out here last month when you got stuck in the bathroom because one of your herbal candles dripped wax into the keyhole. Don't even tell me how that happened again.

--Round 10: Husband.

Husband: If it's about the money, I just won't order it, OK? I'll tell all my friends not to come over. And it'll be just you and me for a quiet evening alone. We'll rent a movie. We'll order Chinese food. We'll send the kids to the neighbors for the night.

Just you and me.

--Round 11: Husband.

Wife: (After a long pause). You said it was Oscar? (Another long pause). I'm going to Costco anyway. How much beer you want me to pick up?

--Fight ends 2:38 into 12th round. By technical knockout, the new king of the castle in a stunning upset: Husband.

Until De La Hoya-Vargas II, of course.