The Heat

Running that first show in Tallahassee was the most stress I’ve ever felt in my life.  And I say that knowing that I’ve had objectively a pretty fucked up life.   That time I was worried because I knew Kim was putting his ass on the line for me.  I was worried because I knew what the booking meant to some of the people on the show.  I was worried for a million reasons. 

This Naperville show didn’t bother me in the least.  First because female empowerment women cut me a check for five grand.   Is that a good price for saving someone from a murderous lady cult?  I don’t know.  Second because most of the people on this show are assholes anyway.  I worked Loudon Swain because no one else wants to.  He was in the WWE for a couple years and is a big deal in Japan (he says) and he thinks he’s really something.  And he is something.  A terrible worker.   

His idea of making a match look good is beating the shit out of you for real.  The list of people that won’t work with him again for ANY amount of money is a mile long.  And of course, if you get rough with him back, he turns bitch and cries to the promoter.  He’s the perfect storm of wrestling bullshittery.   

Swain often “teases” how he’s going to get into UFC and how much of a badass he is, he’s the perfect example of a fake tough guy.   I booked other undesirables like that for the show, people who are reckless or stiff in the ring, people who have shitty attitudes, people that used to be fine but now they’ve got a serious drug problem.  The people that everyone hopes they aren’t working when they get to a show and see that they’re there.

I didn’t care about the show at all.  So of course it fucking sold out.  It’s only a thousand seat capacity but that’s damn good for a wrestling show.  I’d like to see you get a thousand people to show up to anything.   

Even though my advertising for the event was obvious hyperbole and fun lies, I thought people would be pissed they weren’t actually going to see anyone get eaten by a shark or the other creative maimings or deaths that I promised.  But they weren’t.  For once, wrestling fans got the joke.  Who knew that was possible? 

The show went off without any major issues.  I gave all (well most, I took some) the profits to the boys as a bonus.  Which also figures – the asshole dregs of the wrestling world get an extra generous payday.   

But none of that matters.  Because the show was just a ruse.  Ooh, what a twist! 

Published by sopantooth

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