Post by The Killenial (Caleb Ronan) on Apr 30, 2016 6:47:05 GMT -5
Hank Brown, Caleb Ronan, and Frank Brown are seated in a studio in the WCF headquarters. No one looks like they want to be there. Before the cameras rolls, Hank has a quick conversation with Caleb.
Hank Brown: Look, Caleb, I know you don’t like me and I don’t like you, but Seth told me that I have to interview you and I know he told you that I’m the official interviewer of the WCF; so can we just work together for a few minutes and get through this?
Caleb folds his arms and thinks for a few seconds before nodding his head.
Hank Brown: Good.
Hank sits back in his chair and gets ready for the interview to start. Off camera, someone starts to count down.
Hank Brown: Hello, and welcome to a WCF Network exclusive interview with Caleb Ronan, joined today by his…
Hank sighs.
Hank Brown:...personal interviewer and affirmationist, Frank Brown. It’s a...pleasure... to have you both. Caleb, this Sunday marks the first round of the 2016 Trios Tournament and you’ve been partnered up with Tom-O-Hawk and Justin Sane, but this past Sunday at Aftermath, you were in a Trios match where you certainly caused a lot of controversy. First, let’s talk about the problems you were having with CJ Phoenix.
A replay of the match plays on the screen.
Hank Brown: As you can see here, CJ Phoenix was getting upset with you because you were playing with your smartphone rather than paying attention to the match. Phoenix grabs the phone from you and you immediately grab the phone back and shove CJ, causing him to be suplexed by Occulo.
The camera comes back on Hank.
Hank Brown: Why was the cell phone more important than the match?
Caleb whispers something into Frank’s ear.
Hank Brown: What is he doing?
Frank Brown: Caleb has informed me that while he may be forced to take your questions, there is nothing compelling him to answer your questions directly, so he has chosen me to speak for him.
Hank rubs his forehead in frustration.
Hank Brown: Okay. Whatever. What did he say?
Frank Brown: At the time, Caleb was taking part in a Twitter protest against the slaughtering techniques of the beef industry. Do you think that a wrestling match is more important than the humane treatment of animals, Hank?
Hank Brown: Um, no, but he did have a job to do at that moment. I wouldn’t stop this interview to go and tweet my support for PETA.
Frank Brown: Well, that’s the difference between you and Caleb. Caleb is a good person.
Hank Brown: Okay. One question down, two to go. Let’s take a look at what happened at the end of the match.
A replay shows Caleb sacrificing Andrew Marx to Justin Sane.
Hank Brown: Andrew Marx’s back was already broken. Why would you leave him to be powerbombed by Justin Sane?
Caleb whispers into Frank’s ear for a good minute.
Hank Brown: (to someone off camera) We’re going to edit this, right?
Frank Brown: Caleb has a different question. Why was Andrew Marx at ringside in the first place? If he was injured so badly, shouldn’t he have stayed away from the ring?
Hank Brown: I agree, but sometimes professional wrestlers put doing their job over their health. Andrew Marx would hardly be unique in that regard; but once Caleb saw Marx get knocked down for the second time, doesn’t he think that putting Marx in the ring was a bad idea?
Frank Brown: Here’s the thing, Hank. Caleb is a classic Glenn Beck libertarian. He believes that people should be free to do what they want as long as it doesn’t hurt others. If Marx wanted to get in the ring, who was Caleb to stop him?
Hank Brown: Wait, wait, wait. Caleb likes Glenn Beck?
Frank Brown: Yes, Hank. Caleb isn’t like most people who think that Glenn Beck is some conspiracy theory spouting nut job. He actually thinks Glenn Beck is pretty good.
Hank Brown: Really? What if I said that I like Glenn Beck?
Caleb whispers to Frank.
Frank Brown: Caleb thinks Glenn Beck is a conspiracy theory spouting nut job.
Hank Brown: That’s what I thought. Back to Andrew Marx. I don’t think Marx was willing to get into the ring after he was knocked off the stretcher. It’s pretty clear that Caleb dragged him.
Frank Brown: Caleb only thought it was fair that Andrew Marx share some of the burden in the match, much like the wealthiest 1% need to pay their fair share of taxes in this country. Caleb was literally pulling his weight for the team. Why should’ve Andrew Marx had a break? I mean, Caleb already had the match won. All Andrew Marx had to do was cover Justin Sane and the match would have been over. Instead, he took his time and let Justin Sane powerbomb him.
Hank Brown: A lot of people think that Caleb forced Andrew Marx into the ring because Marx was getting all the attention from the fans.
Frank Brown: Well, if that were the case, could you blame him? The fans’ focus should be on what’s happening in the ring, right?
Hank Brown: If that’s what helps him sleep at night. Here’s my last question. Caleb, considering what happened at Aftermath, why should anybody want to team up with you in this Trios Tournament?
Caleb whispers to Frank.
Frank Brown: Caleb is a thoughtful, kind, considerate person. He is literally the best teammate that anybody could ask for.
Hank Brown: He’s joking, right?
Frank Brown: Caleb doesn’t like jokes. He believes it’s wrong to laugh at humanity.
Hank just stares at the two of them.
Hank Brown: Cut!
Hank rips off his mic and swiftly walks off set.
Hank Brown: Lerch should have to give me a bonus every time I have to interview this fucking kid.
ontheropes.blogspot.com
On The Ropes
April 27, 2016
The Buffoondock Kings
A lot of people have been criticizing me for tagging in Andrew Marx during my trios match at Aftermath. They’re saying it was deplorable that I forced a man with a broken back into the ring after his injury was aggravated by two accidents that took place at ringside.
Let me just make one thing clear: there is no one who supports the disabled more than me. My social justice group in college helped run the Special Olympics on our campus every year. We held more protests in support of disabled rights than any other collegiate social justice group in the nation. I have posted more pictures of myself with disabled people on Facebook and Instagram than anyone else in social networking. If there’s anyone who knows, cares, loves, and supports disabled people, it’s me.
And speaking of disabled people, The Poondock Kings are facing my team in the opening round of the Trios Tournament this Sunday.
Zombie McMorris and I got into a little spat on Twitter when I joined the WCF back in March. Allow me to show you one of his tweets and translate what he’s saying (I’ve spoken to many of the mentally disabled, so I have a knack for understanding what they say).
Afri-asiain women's studies, strokes again...
Liberal arts fucks another in the azz
Okay, so first off, I think he was trying to write African-Asian, but it looks like he only knew the first four letters in “African” and he added an extra “i” in “Asian”, unless “Asiain” is some kind of new culture that I haven’t heard of, but since I’ve heard of every culture, I doubt it.
Then he wrote “strokes again.” I could swear that he meant “strikes” but perhaps he was talking about masturbation. Perhaps the thought of African-Asian Women’s Studies gets him aroused. That’s commendable.
Now, I believe he’s trying to say in that second “sentence” that the study of Liberal Arts performs anal sex. I don’t know if he took a health class or a biology class, or went to school for that matter, but Liberal Arts is a course of study at a university. Zombie, it is not possible for a course of study to perform sex of any kind on any body part.
This tweet exposes two things about Zombie: a) spelling and grammar are major challenges for him and b) he is one of the many unfortunate ignoramuses in this country that are anti-intellectual. People like him hate people like me for being intellectual. Sorry, Zombie, that I know things.
He also doesn’t like anyone with a heart and a brain, two things that he obviously wasn’t born with. In one of his other contributions to the zeitgeist, he criticized my world view as “SJW faggotry.” For those of you who don’t know, SJW means “Social Justice Warrior.” At first, it sounds like a good thing; you know, being a warrior for people who don’t have equal rights or equal access to all of the United States’ opportunities. But no, “Social Justice Warrior” is a derogatory term for people who care about their fellow human beings; and according to Zombie, I like to have sex with men because I do care about people.
When it comes to my sexuality, I am not gay or straight. I love all people.
But for the record, I’m attracted to women.
It’s a badge of honor for guys like Zombie (meatheads, fratboys, Republicans, etc.) to be ignorant and hateful. They can say the F-word or the N-word and excuse themselves by saying “Hey, I’m just speaking my mind. I’m just telling it like it is.” Apparently, if you preface your comments with that, you can say anything you want.
You know what we did to guys like Zombie McMorris in college whenever they espoused their thoughts of hatred? We shouted them down and made sure they couldn’t be heard. And we won. My campus was a safe space because we drowned out the voices of the ones who spoke the anti-intellectual, anti-human, right-wing conservative garbage that Zombies seems to enjoy. The entire country needs to be a safe space. You shouldn’t be allowed to say just anything you want because it pops up in your head. Your thoughts can hurt other people’s feelings and make them feel like they’re being attacked. It should be a law that Americans must consider the feelings of other people before they speak. Maybe instead of “We the People” in the beginning of the Constitution, it should read the golden rule: “Do unto others as you would have done to yourself.”
Zombie may be a great wrestler. He may be the Internet Champion. He may have been the Hardcore Champion, but you know what I’d rather be a champion of? Human rights. That’s the type of title people will remember me for. That’s the type of title that brings more joy than any pile of money could. I wouldn’t want to be a champion at the expense of losing my soul, which Zombie lost....well, maybe he never had one.
But of course, Zombie is one person, both as an anti-human and as a wrestler. He has two partners that are pretty much clones of his abomination of an existence, Kaz Mazy and Scarecrow.
I think it’s cute that Kaz and Crow have “Mac” at the end of the nicknames like their little buddy, Zombie. Z-Mac, K-Mac, and C-Mac; it warms my heart.
Right. They remind more of Huey, Dewey, and Louie from Ducktales; three juvenile talking animals. Who in their right minds would want to copy the ways of someone like Zombie? That would be like Ted Cruz and John Kasich getting bad haircuts and bad spray tans and walking around yelling “Build a wall! Build a wall!”
In terms of wrestling, Kaz and Crow don’t concern me in the least bit. Kaz Mazy had to leave last July because he couldn’t cut it in the WCF anymore. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to survive Ultimate Showdown, so he ran away, not to be heard from for a long time. God, I wish it had stayed that way. Who wants to hear from this guy when he talks like he suffered major brain trauma in a car accident? And didn’t Scarecrow, like, die during a match back in August? Maybe I’m mistaken. Maybe it wasn’t his body that died but just his career. Well, excuse me for not being joyful at the resurrection of this messiah of stupidity. He seems to have adopted Zombie’s pattern of writing, with gems like this:
Now we move on to those sickly lookin' jubbahs dat sprung up in our absence. All emaciated an' malnourished. No thick between them. All dead from the waist down my Kazward. About ta' be dead from the neck up.
Here’s how I read this:
Please help me. I’m a loser with a low IQ. I wish I wasn’t stuck on a team with Mini-Adolf and the Godson of Poor Hygiene. Please kill me again.
All these guys care about is smoking weed and seeing a woman’s vagina. Apparently, that’s what makes you a real man. You know, come to think of it, maybe that’s their whole deal. Perhaps they’ve never been laid before and they probably have small penises, so acting ultra macho is their way of making up for that.
It all makes sense, right? They’re always using that word “thick” in reference to their penises.
“Hey, Kaz are ya thick, brudda?”
“Ya Crow, I be havin’ dat thickness between da legs. How ‘bout you, Z?”
“Faggots, niggers, pussies, fuccbois in dat azz!”
Guys, the only thing thick about you are your heads; you know, those things where your brains are supposed to be.
The Poondock Kings act like they’re free because they do whatever they want. The truth is, they’re the farthest thing from free. They walk around imitating the worst behavior that humans can exhibit. They are slaves to a way of life that tells them “smoke weed, be misogynistic, be racist, be bigoted, every one that doesn’t agree with you is a faggot and a pussy.” They have an image that they think they need to live up to, and if they fail at doing so, they’re inadequate, they’re failures as men.
It’s actually kind of sad when you think about it. Hopefully a loss to my team will put them out of their misery.
A day before Slam, Justin Sane, Tom-O-Hawk, and Caleb Ronan meet at a cafe near Arena Mexico. Justin and Tom are already seated when Caleb comes to the table with his drink.
Caleb Ronan: Sorry it took so long, guys. They must not know the dialect of Spanish that I learned in college. It took me forever to get my drink. I got a tall iced half-caff one pump soy vanilla upside-down dirty chai with Splenda. What did you guys get?
Justin Sane: Black coffee.
Tom-O-Hawk: Black coffee.
Caleb Ronan: Oh. Well, I guess that’s cool if you’re into that kind of thing.
Justin Sane: I don’t know why we couldn’t have just met in one of our hotel rooms.
Caleb Ronan: Justin, this is Mexico. You have to experience authentic Mexican life.
Tom-O-Hawk: Is that why we’re in a Starbucks?
Justin Sane: Forget I mentioned it. Let’s talk business. Now, the w---
Caleb Ronan: (to Tom) I just have to say that I really respect your culture.
Tom-O-Hawk: Um….thanks.
They both stare at each other.
Justin Sane: Anyway, as I was saying---
Caleb Ronan: (to Tom) I really think your heritage will be an advantage for us.
Tom-O-Hawk: And why’s that?
Caleb Ronan: The Native Americans have a long history of fighting against white men.
Tom-O-Hawk: Wow. Um, yes, my people do have experience in that, but---
Caleb Ronan: Take Little Big Horn, for example.
Tom-O-Hawk: Well, my people weren’t involved in that battle. That was the Lakota, Cheyenne, and Arapaho. My people are the Cherokee.
Caleb Ronan: Oh my God, I did a report on the Cherokee in third grade!
Tom-O-Hawk: That’s…..great.
Justin Sane: If we could get back to---
Caleb Ronan leans in towards Tom and holds his hand.
Caleb Ronan: I just want to personally apologize on behalf of the United States for the way it’s treated Native Americans for the past 200 years.
Tom subtly pulls his hand away from Caleb.
Tom-O-Hawk: Caleb, that’s not necessar---
Caleb Ronan: No, really, it’s a shame what they’ve done to you. I think all the land that the United States ever took from the Native Americans should be given back to them.
Tom-O-Hawk: You realize that’s, like, most of the United States, right?
Caleb Ronan: But imagine how much greater the country would be with your high chiefs lording over it instead of the corporate interests that have turned it into one big shopping mall. I think it’s time that Americans learned how to live off the land once again. Maybe after this Sunday, you can show me how to live like a true Native American, hunting, gathering, farming, using the gifts of Mother Earth for sustenance.
Tom just stares at Caleb.
Tom-O-Hawk: So, Justin, as you were saying?
Justin Sane: We need to---
Caleb Ronan: I think I might actually be part Native Amer---
Justin pounds on the table.
Justin Sane: Enough! Maybe you don’t realize this, but we’re in a tournament where the stakes are high, and while you may want to sit there singing “Kumbaya” with Tom-O-Hawk, I’d actually like to win some titles, and I’m not going to let you screw me like you screwed your team at Aftermath.
Caleb Ronan: What are you talking about?
Tom-O-Hawk: Well, you did leave Andrew Marx for dead.
Justin Sane: Yeah, and if you try to pull that shit with me, his back won’t be the only one broken. And let’s talk about the cell phone. You seemed more interested in it than tagging CJ Phoenix out.
Caleb Ronan: How many times do I have to say it? I was in the middle of a Twitter campaign.
Justin Sane: Well, I’m campaigning for a team-wide ban on cellphones at ringside.
A cold sweat breaks over Caleb’s body. He starts to shudder and breaths heavy out of his nose. He slowly put his hand over his pocket. He feels for the smartphone. When he feels it, he clutches it.
Caleb Ronan: I-I-I don’t think I can do that, Justin. My smartphone’s pretty important to me. My whole life is on it.
Justin Sane: I’ll tell you what. You want to be close to your cell phone? If I see you playing with it on the apron, I’ll make sure you’re real close to it when I shove it permanently up your ass.
Caleb feels his eye twitching and his biceps and triceps contracting uncontrollably.
Oh, no. Not again. Not in public like this!
Justin Sane: Or maybe instead of shoving it up your ass, I can just stomp on it and smash it into a million pieces.
Caleb shoots up out of his chair, flips the table over, and yells, but his voice suddenly sounds like The Beast from Beauty and the Beast.
Caleb Ronan: Don’t even think about touching my fucking phone!
The entire Starbucks goes silent as all the patrons look on at the situation. Justin gets right up in Caleb’s face. The two are almost nose to nose, seething at each other with clenched teeth.
Justin Sane: You want to do something about it, hipster boy?
Tom tries to get in between the two of them.
Tom-O-Hawk: Whoa, guys, let’s not start off the tournament like this. Just chill out.
Tom notices that Caleb’s eye is twitching.
Tom-O-Hawk: I don’t know your coffee drinking habits that well, but maybe you need to lay off the caffeine, Caleb. And Justin, what happened at Aftermath is in the past. Let’s look to the future and figure out how we’re going to win tomorrow.
Justin looks at Tom and then back at Caleb.
Justin Sane: Fine, but I’m watching you, Ronan.
Tom-O-Hawk: He gets it, Justin. Maybe we just need to get some rest. We’ve all traveled a long way to get here.
Justin Sane: Whatever. I’m out of here. See you tomorrow.
Justin storms out of the coffeehouse. An attendant comes to clean up the mess, but Tom waives him off. He picks the table back up and throws out the trash. When he gets back to his seat, Caleb looks almost catatonic.
Tom-O-Hawk: Caleb, you alright, man?
Caleb slowly turns his head to look at Tom.
Caleb Ronan: Tom-O-Hawk, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve been getting this strange eye twitch for the last three weeks now, sometimes followed by these fits of anger. I don’t know how to stop it. Are there any traditional Native American remedies that you could recommend to help me?
Tom stares at Caleb blankly.
Tom-O-Hawk: I’ll see you back at the hotel, Caleb.
Tom leaves Caleb alone in the coffeehouse. Caleb pulls out his smartphone. He pets it.
Caleb Ronan: I’ll never let anybody hurt you.
While he caresses and talks to his phone, a woman walks by with her little boy. The little boy gawks at Caleb. Caleb notices the little boy staring at him.
Caleb Ronan: Hola, niño.
The little boy looks up at his mother.
Little Boy: Mami, ¿Está loco?
Hank Brown: Look, Caleb, I know you don’t like me and I don’t like you, but Seth told me that I have to interview you and I know he told you that I’m the official interviewer of the WCF; so can we just work together for a few minutes and get through this?
Caleb folds his arms and thinks for a few seconds before nodding his head.
Hank Brown: Good.
Hank sits back in his chair and gets ready for the interview to start. Off camera, someone starts to count down.
Hank Brown: Hello, and welcome to a WCF Network exclusive interview with Caleb Ronan, joined today by his…
Hank sighs.
Hank Brown:...personal interviewer and affirmationist, Frank Brown. It’s a...pleasure... to have you both. Caleb, this Sunday marks the first round of the 2016 Trios Tournament and you’ve been partnered up with Tom-O-Hawk and Justin Sane, but this past Sunday at Aftermath, you were in a Trios match where you certainly caused a lot of controversy. First, let’s talk about the problems you were having with CJ Phoenix.
A replay of the match plays on the screen.
Hank Brown: As you can see here, CJ Phoenix was getting upset with you because you were playing with your smartphone rather than paying attention to the match. Phoenix grabs the phone from you and you immediately grab the phone back and shove CJ, causing him to be suplexed by Occulo.
The camera comes back on Hank.
Hank Brown: Why was the cell phone more important than the match?
Caleb whispers something into Frank’s ear.
Hank Brown: What is he doing?
Frank Brown: Caleb has informed me that while he may be forced to take your questions, there is nothing compelling him to answer your questions directly, so he has chosen me to speak for him.
Hank rubs his forehead in frustration.
Hank Brown: Okay. Whatever. What did he say?
Frank Brown: At the time, Caleb was taking part in a Twitter protest against the slaughtering techniques of the beef industry. Do you think that a wrestling match is more important than the humane treatment of animals, Hank?
Hank Brown: Um, no, but he did have a job to do at that moment. I wouldn’t stop this interview to go and tweet my support for PETA.
Frank Brown: Well, that’s the difference between you and Caleb. Caleb is a good person.
Hank Brown: Okay. One question down, two to go. Let’s take a look at what happened at the end of the match.
A replay shows Caleb sacrificing Andrew Marx to Justin Sane.
Hank Brown: Andrew Marx’s back was already broken. Why would you leave him to be powerbombed by Justin Sane?
Caleb whispers into Frank’s ear for a good minute.
Hank Brown: (to someone off camera) We’re going to edit this, right?
Frank Brown: Caleb has a different question. Why was Andrew Marx at ringside in the first place? If he was injured so badly, shouldn’t he have stayed away from the ring?
Hank Brown: I agree, but sometimes professional wrestlers put doing their job over their health. Andrew Marx would hardly be unique in that regard; but once Caleb saw Marx get knocked down for the second time, doesn’t he think that putting Marx in the ring was a bad idea?
Frank Brown: Here’s the thing, Hank. Caleb is a classic Glenn Beck libertarian. He believes that people should be free to do what they want as long as it doesn’t hurt others. If Marx wanted to get in the ring, who was Caleb to stop him?
Hank Brown: Wait, wait, wait. Caleb likes Glenn Beck?
Frank Brown: Yes, Hank. Caleb isn’t like most people who think that Glenn Beck is some conspiracy theory spouting nut job. He actually thinks Glenn Beck is pretty good.
Hank Brown: Really? What if I said that I like Glenn Beck?
Caleb whispers to Frank.
Frank Brown: Caleb thinks Glenn Beck is a conspiracy theory spouting nut job.
Hank Brown: That’s what I thought. Back to Andrew Marx. I don’t think Marx was willing to get into the ring after he was knocked off the stretcher. It’s pretty clear that Caleb dragged him.
Frank Brown: Caleb only thought it was fair that Andrew Marx share some of the burden in the match, much like the wealthiest 1% need to pay their fair share of taxes in this country. Caleb was literally pulling his weight for the team. Why should’ve Andrew Marx had a break? I mean, Caleb already had the match won. All Andrew Marx had to do was cover Justin Sane and the match would have been over. Instead, he took his time and let Justin Sane powerbomb him.
Hank Brown: A lot of people think that Caleb forced Andrew Marx into the ring because Marx was getting all the attention from the fans.
Frank Brown: Well, if that were the case, could you blame him? The fans’ focus should be on what’s happening in the ring, right?
Hank Brown: If that’s what helps him sleep at night. Here’s my last question. Caleb, considering what happened at Aftermath, why should anybody want to team up with you in this Trios Tournament?
Caleb whispers to Frank.
Frank Brown: Caleb is a thoughtful, kind, considerate person. He is literally the best teammate that anybody could ask for.
Hank Brown: He’s joking, right?
Frank Brown: Caleb doesn’t like jokes. He believes it’s wrong to laugh at humanity.
Hank just stares at the two of them.
Hank Brown: Cut!
Hank rips off his mic and swiftly walks off set.
Hank Brown: Lerch should have to give me a bonus every time I have to interview this fucking kid.
ontheropes.blogspot.com
On The Ropes
April 27, 2016
The Buffoondock Kings
A lot of people have been criticizing me for tagging in Andrew Marx during my trios match at Aftermath. They’re saying it was deplorable that I forced a man with a broken back into the ring after his injury was aggravated by two accidents that took place at ringside.
Let me just make one thing clear: there is no one who supports the disabled more than me. My social justice group in college helped run the Special Olympics on our campus every year. We held more protests in support of disabled rights than any other collegiate social justice group in the nation. I have posted more pictures of myself with disabled people on Facebook and Instagram than anyone else in social networking. If there’s anyone who knows, cares, loves, and supports disabled people, it’s me.
And speaking of disabled people, The Poondock Kings are facing my team in the opening round of the Trios Tournament this Sunday.
Zombie McMorris and I got into a little spat on Twitter when I joined the WCF back in March. Allow me to show you one of his tweets and translate what he’s saying (I’ve spoken to many of the mentally disabled, so I have a knack for understanding what they say).
Afri-asiain women's studies, strokes again...
Liberal arts fucks another in the azz
Okay, so first off, I think he was trying to write African-Asian, but it looks like he only knew the first four letters in “African” and he added an extra “i” in “Asian”, unless “Asiain” is some kind of new culture that I haven’t heard of, but since I’ve heard of every culture, I doubt it.
Then he wrote “strokes again.” I could swear that he meant “strikes” but perhaps he was talking about masturbation. Perhaps the thought of African-Asian Women’s Studies gets him aroused. That’s commendable.
Now, I believe he’s trying to say in that second “sentence” that the study of Liberal Arts performs anal sex. I don’t know if he took a health class or a biology class, or went to school for that matter, but Liberal Arts is a course of study at a university. Zombie, it is not possible for a course of study to perform sex of any kind on any body part.
This tweet exposes two things about Zombie: a) spelling and grammar are major challenges for him and b) he is one of the many unfortunate ignoramuses in this country that are anti-intellectual. People like him hate people like me for being intellectual. Sorry, Zombie, that I know things.
He also doesn’t like anyone with a heart and a brain, two things that he obviously wasn’t born with. In one of his other contributions to the zeitgeist, he criticized my world view as “SJW faggotry.” For those of you who don’t know, SJW means “Social Justice Warrior.” At first, it sounds like a good thing; you know, being a warrior for people who don’t have equal rights or equal access to all of the United States’ opportunities. But no, “Social Justice Warrior” is a derogatory term for people who care about their fellow human beings; and according to Zombie, I like to have sex with men because I do care about people.
When it comes to my sexuality, I am not gay or straight. I love all people.
But for the record, I’m attracted to women.
It’s a badge of honor for guys like Zombie (meatheads, fratboys, Republicans, etc.) to be ignorant and hateful. They can say the F-word or the N-word and excuse themselves by saying “Hey, I’m just speaking my mind. I’m just telling it like it is.” Apparently, if you preface your comments with that, you can say anything you want.
You know what we did to guys like Zombie McMorris in college whenever they espoused their thoughts of hatred? We shouted them down and made sure they couldn’t be heard. And we won. My campus was a safe space because we drowned out the voices of the ones who spoke the anti-intellectual, anti-human, right-wing conservative garbage that Zombies seems to enjoy. The entire country needs to be a safe space. You shouldn’t be allowed to say just anything you want because it pops up in your head. Your thoughts can hurt other people’s feelings and make them feel like they’re being attacked. It should be a law that Americans must consider the feelings of other people before they speak. Maybe instead of “We the People” in the beginning of the Constitution, it should read the golden rule: “Do unto others as you would have done to yourself.”
Zombie may be a great wrestler. He may be the Internet Champion. He may have been the Hardcore Champion, but you know what I’d rather be a champion of? Human rights. That’s the type of title people will remember me for. That’s the type of title that brings more joy than any pile of money could. I wouldn’t want to be a champion at the expense of losing my soul, which Zombie lost....well, maybe he never had one.
But of course, Zombie is one person, both as an anti-human and as a wrestler. He has two partners that are pretty much clones of his abomination of an existence, Kaz Mazy and Scarecrow.
I think it’s cute that Kaz and Crow have “Mac” at the end of the nicknames like their little buddy, Zombie. Z-Mac, K-Mac, and C-Mac; it warms my heart.
Right. They remind more of Huey, Dewey, and Louie from Ducktales; three juvenile talking animals. Who in their right minds would want to copy the ways of someone like Zombie? That would be like Ted Cruz and John Kasich getting bad haircuts and bad spray tans and walking around yelling “Build a wall! Build a wall!”
In terms of wrestling, Kaz and Crow don’t concern me in the least bit. Kaz Mazy had to leave last July because he couldn’t cut it in the WCF anymore. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to survive Ultimate Showdown, so he ran away, not to be heard from for a long time. God, I wish it had stayed that way. Who wants to hear from this guy when he talks like he suffered major brain trauma in a car accident? And didn’t Scarecrow, like, die during a match back in August? Maybe I’m mistaken. Maybe it wasn’t his body that died but just his career. Well, excuse me for not being joyful at the resurrection of this messiah of stupidity. He seems to have adopted Zombie’s pattern of writing, with gems like this:
Now we move on to those sickly lookin' jubbahs dat sprung up in our absence. All emaciated an' malnourished. No thick between them. All dead from the waist down my Kazward. About ta' be dead from the neck up.
Here’s how I read this:
Please help me. I’m a loser with a low IQ. I wish I wasn’t stuck on a team with Mini-Adolf and the Godson of Poor Hygiene. Please kill me again.
All these guys care about is smoking weed and seeing a woman’s vagina. Apparently, that’s what makes you a real man. You know, come to think of it, maybe that’s their whole deal. Perhaps they’ve never been laid before and they probably have small penises, so acting ultra macho is their way of making up for that.
It all makes sense, right? They’re always using that word “thick” in reference to their penises.
“Hey, Kaz are ya thick, brudda?”
“Ya Crow, I be havin’ dat thickness between da legs. How ‘bout you, Z?”
“Faggots, niggers, pussies, fuccbois in dat azz!”
Guys, the only thing thick about you are your heads; you know, those things where your brains are supposed to be.
The Poondock Kings act like they’re free because they do whatever they want. The truth is, they’re the farthest thing from free. They walk around imitating the worst behavior that humans can exhibit. They are slaves to a way of life that tells them “smoke weed, be misogynistic, be racist, be bigoted, every one that doesn’t agree with you is a faggot and a pussy.” They have an image that they think they need to live up to, and if they fail at doing so, they’re inadequate, they’re failures as men.
It’s actually kind of sad when you think about it. Hopefully a loss to my team will put them out of their misery.
A day before Slam, Justin Sane, Tom-O-Hawk, and Caleb Ronan meet at a cafe near Arena Mexico. Justin and Tom are already seated when Caleb comes to the table with his drink.
Caleb Ronan: Sorry it took so long, guys. They must not know the dialect of Spanish that I learned in college. It took me forever to get my drink. I got a tall iced half-caff one pump soy vanilla upside-down dirty chai with Splenda. What did you guys get?
Justin Sane: Black coffee.
Tom-O-Hawk: Black coffee.
Caleb Ronan: Oh. Well, I guess that’s cool if you’re into that kind of thing.
Justin Sane: I don’t know why we couldn’t have just met in one of our hotel rooms.
Caleb Ronan: Justin, this is Mexico. You have to experience authentic Mexican life.
Tom-O-Hawk: Is that why we’re in a Starbucks?
Justin Sane: Forget I mentioned it. Let’s talk business. Now, the w---
Caleb Ronan: (to Tom) I just have to say that I really respect your culture.
Tom-O-Hawk: Um….thanks.
They both stare at each other.
Justin Sane: Anyway, as I was saying---
Caleb Ronan: (to Tom) I really think your heritage will be an advantage for us.
Tom-O-Hawk: And why’s that?
Caleb Ronan: The Native Americans have a long history of fighting against white men.
Tom-O-Hawk: Wow. Um, yes, my people do have experience in that, but---
Caleb Ronan: Take Little Big Horn, for example.
Tom-O-Hawk: Well, my people weren’t involved in that battle. That was the Lakota, Cheyenne, and Arapaho. My people are the Cherokee.
Caleb Ronan: Oh my God, I did a report on the Cherokee in third grade!
Tom-O-Hawk: That’s…..great.
Justin Sane: If we could get back to---
Caleb Ronan leans in towards Tom and holds his hand.
Caleb Ronan: I just want to personally apologize on behalf of the United States for the way it’s treated Native Americans for the past 200 years.
Tom subtly pulls his hand away from Caleb.
Tom-O-Hawk: Caleb, that’s not necessar---
Caleb Ronan: No, really, it’s a shame what they’ve done to you. I think all the land that the United States ever took from the Native Americans should be given back to them.
Tom-O-Hawk: You realize that’s, like, most of the United States, right?
Caleb Ronan: But imagine how much greater the country would be with your high chiefs lording over it instead of the corporate interests that have turned it into one big shopping mall. I think it’s time that Americans learned how to live off the land once again. Maybe after this Sunday, you can show me how to live like a true Native American, hunting, gathering, farming, using the gifts of Mother Earth for sustenance.
Tom just stares at Caleb.
Tom-O-Hawk: So, Justin, as you were saying?
Justin Sane: We need to---
Caleb Ronan: I think I might actually be part Native Amer---
Justin pounds on the table.
Justin Sane: Enough! Maybe you don’t realize this, but we’re in a tournament where the stakes are high, and while you may want to sit there singing “Kumbaya” with Tom-O-Hawk, I’d actually like to win some titles, and I’m not going to let you screw me like you screwed your team at Aftermath.
Caleb Ronan: What are you talking about?
Tom-O-Hawk: Well, you did leave Andrew Marx for dead.
Justin Sane: Yeah, and if you try to pull that shit with me, his back won’t be the only one broken. And let’s talk about the cell phone. You seemed more interested in it than tagging CJ Phoenix out.
Caleb Ronan: How many times do I have to say it? I was in the middle of a Twitter campaign.
Justin Sane: Well, I’m campaigning for a team-wide ban on cellphones at ringside.
A cold sweat breaks over Caleb’s body. He starts to shudder and breaths heavy out of his nose. He slowly put his hand over his pocket. He feels for the smartphone. When he feels it, he clutches it.
Caleb Ronan: I-I-I don’t think I can do that, Justin. My smartphone’s pretty important to me. My whole life is on it.
Justin Sane: I’ll tell you what. You want to be close to your cell phone? If I see you playing with it on the apron, I’ll make sure you’re real close to it when I shove it permanently up your ass.
Caleb feels his eye twitching and his biceps and triceps contracting uncontrollably.
Oh, no. Not again. Not in public like this!
Justin Sane: Or maybe instead of shoving it up your ass, I can just stomp on it and smash it into a million pieces.
Caleb shoots up out of his chair, flips the table over, and yells, but his voice suddenly sounds like The Beast from Beauty and the Beast.
Caleb Ronan: Don’t even think about touching my fucking phone!
The entire Starbucks goes silent as all the patrons look on at the situation. Justin gets right up in Caleb’s face. The two are almost nose to nose, seething at each other with clenched teeth.
Justin Sane: You want to do something about it, hipster boy?
Tom tries to get in between the two of them.
Tom-O-Hawk: Whoa, guys, let’s not start off the tournament like this. Just chill out.
Tom notices that Caleb’s eye is twitching.
Tom-O-Hawk: I don’t know your coffee drinking habits that well, but maybe you need to lay off the caffeine, Caleb. And Justin, what happened at Aftermath is in the past. Let’s look to the future and figure out how we’re going to win tomorrow.
Justin looks at Tom and then back at Caleb.
Justin Sane: Fine, but I’m watching you, Ronan.
Tom-O-Hawk: He gets it, Justin. Maybe we just need to get some rest. We’ve all traveled a long way to get here.
Justin Sane: Whatever. I’m out of here. See you tomorrow.
Justin storms out of the coffeehouse. An attendant comes to clean up the mess, but Tom waives him off. He picks the table back up and throws out the trash. When he gets back to his seat, Caleb looks almost catatonic.
Tom-O-Hawk: Caleb, you alright, man?
Caleb slowly turns his head to look at Tom.
Caleb Ronan: Tom-O-Hawk, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve been getting this strange eye twitch for the last three weeks now, sometimes followed by these fits of anger. I don’t know how to stop it. Are there any traditional Native American remedies that you could recommend to help me?
Tom stares at Caleb blankly.
Tom-O-Hawk: I’ll see you back at the hotel, Caleb.
Tom leaves Caleb alone in the coffeehouse. Caleb pulls out his smartphone. He pets it.
Caleb Ronan: I’ll never let anybody hurt you.
While he caresses and talks to his phone, a woman walks by with her little boy. The little boy gawks at Caleb. Caleb notices the little boy staring at him.
Caleb Ronan: Hola, niño.
The little boy looks up at his mother.
Little Boy: Mami, ¿Está loco?
