Still better than Wolverine: Origins

So here’s how it happened.  I had an impressive 4 matches to my name when a promoter in Laredo came calling asking me if I wanted to do a show in Mexico.  He said that he really saw something in me, which has to have been bullshit because those first 4 matches were shit.  Maybe he wanted to have sex with me but the most likely explanation is that someone else he was counting on had dropped out and he just knew that I was in the area.  He hasn’t booked me again so I guess he changed his mind about my limitless potential.

I’m not sure where I was in Mexico, someplace right across the border.  The show was in a small rodeo arena or whatever those things are called.  The crowd was in the stands, they didn’t set up any seating around the ring, so even as small as the place was in rodeo terms, the ring was still like fifty feet away from the closest fan which was weird.  I’m used to the people, however few there might be, being right next to me.  It was the largest crowd I have performed in front of, I think there were more than a thousand people there. 

Things I remember.  Someone said that Austin Rivers, the NBA player was in the crowd.  Why would a c-list pro basketball player be at a mud show in Mexico?  I looked him up on my phone and the guy in the crowd everyone was pointing at did look like him.  He was speaking Spanish though so I don’t think it was Austin Rivers.  I didn’t see how it happened but a roid-case in red briefs and kickpads ended up in the crowd punching a fan – I saw that because my match was supposed to be while that was going on.  Did he climb up the wall like a rodeo clown or how did he end up in the crowd?

My opponent and I were just standing in the ring like assholes not sure if we should do our match because of all the commotion in the stands.  The referee didn’t speak English but I thought he was saying something about the police.  The girl I was supposed to be working with (who looked like SoCal Val) spoke some Spanish and asked the referee something and then he tried to grab her wrist.  That guy went from zero to pissed in half a second.  He chased her out of the ring and I was still just standing there wondering what the fuck was going on.

Eventually a Mexican wrestler called Rudo Anaranjado came out and start yelling orders, at the referee, at the crowd, at the wrestlers who had come out to gawk.  The guy in the crowd trying to fight a fan crawled down and out while people threw shit at him.  Then Anaranjado backed the referee into the corner and slapped the living fuck out of him.  I never saw the SoCal Val knock off again but she was gone from the ring area.  Once Anaranjado was done abusing the referee he gestured at me to start a match with him, it’s amazing how much information you can get from one impatient gesture.

Obviously we had discussed nothing beforehand and I had no idea at that point (still don’t really) how to call a match in the ring, and I don’t know how much English he spoke anyway so I just went along with whatever he was doing.  Which was beating me in three minutes and then waving a Mexican flag around for five times as long while the crowd went nuts.  That ring was fucking hard as a rock and Anaranjado did not have what I would call a light touch. 

That would be plenty all by itself, but that was also the day I found out about magic. 

Maybe she’s born with it maybe it’s Maybelline

I had what was probably my best match so far last night.  I was wrestling a guy called Little Junior Toro, which is just a terrible name.  I was expecting him to be some kind of rip-off of El Torito from the WWE.  I was wondering if he was going to be a little person.  I know that’s a thing in wrestling, is it wrong that I was kind of dreading wrestling a little person?  But instead of a bull he had a fish gimmick – he had a silvery bodysuit that was made to look like it had scales on it and he had fin things on his forearms and the backs of his legs.  It was pretty stupid looking if you ask me.  I guess Toro also means fish?  And he was little, not a little person but a regular sized person who was little.  He was a non-little person who was like five four. 

He looked like a buffoon but he knew how to wrestle and he put together a great match for us.  People were actually cheering, not many because there weren’t many people there, but it’s the first time anyone’s ever cheered for me for a reason other than me (actually my fetch) taking a crazy bump.  In which case they aren’t really cheering for me anyway, they were cheering for seeing someone get fucked up.  I got into this business purely because there was no other way for me to make money that I found palatable but I’ve heard a lot of people talk about the rush of performing.  Getting cheered for real made me understand that a little.

I talked to him a little after the match, I wanted to thank him, and he told me that what I needed to do was get myself some decent ring gear.  He went on a semi-rant about how every indy show you go to is a bunch of guys in jeans and black t-shirts and one of the reasons that he’s successful (well not successful successful he was working a show with me at an event center in Broken Arrow after all) is because he has a memorable look.  You forget the fifteen guys in black shirts, you remember the guy dressed like a fish.  He told me that I have to invest in some real ring gear if I want to be anything other than another anonymous face. 

He’s right of course, although the female equivalent is booty shorts and sports bra rather than jeans and a t-shirt.  That’s all well and good and he’s right, but that shit is expensive.  You want something that looks good you have to pay through the nose for it, if you can even find someone to make it for you.  All due respect to Mr. Toro but not all of us have wives that are seamstresses and can make us silly fish outfits.  Maybe I should work on trying to learn a spell that can sew for me. 

Since I was feeling happy about having a really good match something bad had to happen to balance it out.  The promoter, who had a belt buckle that looked to be a taxidermy weasel head, gave me shit after the show about not wearing any make-up.  He said that he assumed that I was going to cover up my scars because “You’re here to look like you’re getting beat up in the ring, not come to the ring looking like you already got beat up.”

I don’t know shit about make-up, and even if I did I don’t think I’d cover up my scars – that’s something memorable about me like fishboy and his scales.  I remember the first time I was backstage at a show and saw the women in front of their mirrors doing their make-up.  I was shocked that you’d put make-up on to go wrestle but I guess that was stupid of me.  Of course they wear make-up in the ring.  I’ve seen that when you get to the WWE the first thing they do, before wrestling, before promos, before anything, is take a make-up class.  Fucked up right?

I was working a match once and a woman was trying to put me in a headlock but she had no clue what she was doing and basically we were standing there cheek to cheek while she was trying to . . . I have no clue what she was trying to do actually.  Some of her foundation or blush or whatever got in my eye and that hurt like a motherfucker.  My eye got all infected and pusy the next few weeks.  How does that make any sense?  Isn’t make-up supposed to be safe?  I know you’re not supposed to get it in your eye, but aren’t they testing cosmetics on bunnies all the time to make sure it doesn’t fuck up your eye if it does get in there? 

Maybe I’m allergic to cosmetics.  That’s what I should tell people that hassle me about it anyway.

Better off dead

I saw on Facebook today that the girl I had my first match with died.  There was no information given about how she died and I was curious so I looked around a little.  I found out just enough confusing information to make me even more curious as to how she died.  A few days before, her parents called the police to report her missing.  For a couple days people seemed to think that her boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend no one was sure if they were still together, had kidnapped her.  But then she popped up on social media laughing and making jokes about people thinking she was missing and said that everything was fine.  Then the very next day she was found dead in a hotel room because of some issue with her bowel.  Some people are saying it had something to do with drugs, others are saying that the bf or x-bf beat her up and that popped her intestines. 

I don’t remember what her working name was, I remember people calling her Daisy, but I don’t know if that’s because that’s her real name or if that’s the ring name she was using.  People often remember their first match very well.  Mostly what I remember is the sinking feeling I had when she told me that she was only doing it because her bf was a wrestler and she wanted to travel with him.  The only training she had was whatever the boyfriend had shown her.  The match was horrendous.  Everyone’s first match is, just like the first time you have sex, but this was bad even by first time standards.  I’m not sure I had enough training to be out there and I sure as shit know that she didn’t.  Even though she already had a couple matches under her belt.

The bf got up my ass afterwards because I dropped her on her head at one point, one of our many botched spots.  She didn’t get injured (well not obviously anyway) but she was still backstage sulking and being a drama queen about it while her asshole Ken Shamrock looking boyfriend (who maybe now has kidnapped and killed her) laid into me.  I told him that he should have trained her better because it was her fault and he was screaming in my face that I could have ended her career.  I said “What career, she’s never going to have a career.”

Guess I was right.   

When you learn about magic you wonder about a lot of things.  One of them is if you can bring people back from the dead.  It didn’t work out well in Game of Thrones or Pet Sematary.  I’ve unfortunately had even less instruction in magic than I have in wrestling but when I asked about it I was told that trying to bring someone back is something you never do.  Never never.  Not ever never.  But there was no reason given about why.  Which I don’t like.  If something is forbidden I like to know why. 

So the next question is then, if you can’t bring people back for real what about zombies?  Or ghosts?  Does magic have anything to say about people having souls?  Can you use magic to do stuff to people’s souls?  Is that what all this magic energy is?  Soul . . . stuff?  I really need to find another magic mentor.  Better check Craigslist. 

Slow and steady wins the race (but is boring and I hate it)

Here’s some inside information for you – doing magic is actually really boring and fucking frustrating as hell.  Casting a spell generally requires you to chant the same sequences of words for several minutes, sometimes as much as half an hour.  That may not seem like a long time but try it sometime.  Choose a phrase and then say it over and over and over again in the exact same way for ten minutes.  It’s a fucking drag.  Especially when you’re still learning and after all that the spell fizzles most of the time anyhow.  I lost my voice a lot in the early days just from the amount of chanting I was doing. 

My second mentor told me that it used to be different, that there used to be more magical energy in the world and so it was easier to call on.  He told me that the amount of energy in the world has been slowly decreasing and one day there won’t be enough magic left in the world for anyone new to learn it.  When you’re learning you can’t grasp at the tiny little scraps of magic that will be left, only masters will be able to do anything with magic.  And once they all die there will be no magicians left in the world.  He was a good person but he could slide into melancholy old man at times.  Some things he said made me think he’s been alive since the 1600s.  At least.   That could have been bullshit but I don’t think so. 

The reason you have to take so long is because magic energy reacts very strongly when you try to grab it.  The harder you push the greater the resistance is – it’s like the reverse of Chinese fingercuffs.  Is that racist now?  Can you still say Chinese fingercuffs?  I can’t think of a better example.  You have to gather in the energy for the spell very, very slowly.  That’s what all that chanting is about, it’s a way to focus your mind.  It is maddeningly easily to push a tiny bit too hard and lose the whole thing, especially when you’re getting towards the end and you start to get excited.  And when you do that it pisses you off which only makes it harder to go slowly if you try again right away.  It’s like being on tilt in poker.  If there’s a better lesson in patience than trying to do magic I don’t know what it is.  Significant time in prison maybe.  

One of the criticisms old timers throw at us new generation of wrestlers is that we go too fast.  That’s definitely a problem that most people have when they first start out – they’re just going move-move-move without taking a breath, and the match sucks because they’re going too fast.  I was the same when I first started out because everyone is, but I was able to cure myself of that bad habit much sooner than most people because I was studying magic as well.  That’s a side benefit they don’t tell you about learning magic.  Learning the value of patience. 

I don’t claim to be a great wrestler yet, but that’s one aspect of being a good wrestler that I have a solid handle on – I take my time.  Do a move and then give people time to react to it.  And if they’re not reacting to it take a moment to get them into it.  There’s so many cheap ways to get people riled up at a show.  They’re there because they want to get excited and yell and shout and be involved.  You just have to give them a reason. 

Shove another ‘cast in your podhole

There’s exactly one zillion wrestling podcasts in the world.  I have a hard time believing that anyone listens to most of them but then again what else do wrestling fans have to do?  Not have sex am I right?  I did a double shot in Austin last weekend and some dude was sitting on a folding chair “backstage” gassing on about his podcast and how it was going to make him a star.  I don’t think it works like that, no one is going to listen to the podcast of a Chili’s assistant manager in LaGrange who wrestles twice a month in front of fifteen people.  You have to already be famous for anyone to listen to your podcast – it’s not going to make you famous.

But since every wrestler has to have a podcast here’s what mine is going to be.  I’m going to have a podcast where a celebrity guest – A-listers only – and I discuss just the first scene of every episode of law and order.  That opening three minute scene where a jogger or a guy driving a truck finds the dead body and then at the end one of the detectives really lays a zinger out there about the dead person and/or the way they died and/or the potential murderer.

For example we’d watch the first part of the 1999 episode “Empire” and then we’d talk extensively about Lenny’s wham line “Looks like he got SOMETHING straight!” because he was talking about the dead guy’s dick.  We’d really do a deep dive on how that joke was about the dead guy’s erect penis.  Was it really straight?  Most of them curve up.  Some of them curve to the side.  We’d really dig into the joke about the dead guy’s dick. 

Has anyone used a podcast to get over?  Colt Cabana is the only name that comes to mind, but it’s impossible to say if the podcast made him more popular or if his popularity made the podcast successful.  Maybe there’s some synergy there but when he started his podcast he was already 10 years into his career and had a ton of friends that were big stars that he could interview.  Plus he’s charismatic and interesting.  Maybe a podcast can bump you up once you’re already making a good living in the biz?

I admit that I should be doing more on social media to promote myself but it’s all so tedious.  Plus look what happened to Sonia Deville.  I guess Mandy Rose was the one that was going to be murdered, but Sonia was the one being stalked.  So.  That’s the good thing about technically being homeless – if anyone wants to stalk me they have to really be dedicated.

As far as I know there aren’t any podcasts about learning magic.  Maybe that’s my lane.

If you’re a werewolf experiencing male pattern baldness call today

I worked a show in Tyler last night and after my match I went to the promoter to get paid and he tried to tell me that he had already paid me.  I always try to get money up front but promoters rarely go for that because wrestlers are flaky even when they don’t intend on ripping you off, and also they’re often looking to rip you off.  I knew that he hadn’t paid me so things got loud.  I got pissed and left and started looking for stuff to steal.

Here’s the deal, remember before when I said that I wasn’t a criminal?  Well there’s a tradition in the world of wrestling that if the guy running the show stiffs you (which happens) what you do is you steal whatever you can to make up for the lost income.  I saw a guy walk out of a venue with a thousand Solo cups one time because he didn’t get paid.  This doesn’t make a lot of sense because you’re not stealing from the guy that ripped you off, you’re stealing from the venue, which only hurts yourself in the long run because it makes the people that own the venue less likely to book another wrestling show there.  But when you drive 8 hours to a show to work for twenty fucking dollars and then you don’t even get it because the asshole who hired you won’t pony up, you start looking for a way to get even.  Not in the payback sense, I mean monetarily.  

I’ve done this myself a few times, so I guess I am a criminal, but it’s justified by tradition like Alaskan natives hunting endangered whales.  While I was looking for something to steal though I remembered that actually I had gotten paid in advance and I was pissed over nothing.  I probably should have gone back and apologized but after you tell someone you’re going to cut their wife’s face off, the bridge is probably burned.  I need to get an app on my phone to keep track of this shit.  My finances are very complicated.

Before that drama though, I got lectured by a sixty year old man with a potbelly and skinny chicken legs wearing a werewolf mask.  Or what was left of a werewolf mask anyway, it looked like he had been wearing the same one since the 80’s and some of it had worn away and the rest had fused with his bald head.  I was going over my match with a woman whose name I forget – she was wearing a school girl outfit which along with cheerleader is the outfit of choice for 35% of independent lady wrestlers.  And probably similar ratio for strippers.    While I was talking with the schoolgirl, the fat werewolf came over to bless us with his veteran advice.  He asked me what my gimmick was and I told him that I didn’t have one.

He got pissed because he said you need a gimmick to make it in this business.  I declined to point out that he was working the same shit show I was.  He asked what kind of story we could tell with a schoolgirl in one corner and then a no gimmick in the other.  I asked him what kind of a story can you tell with an adult woman in a school girl outfit and anyone else?  Besides porn. 

He has a point I suppose, but what kind of gimmick can I have that doesn’t really cost any money in the form of new gear or props or anything and also doesn’t require me to do or say anything?  That’s a very narrow window for creative thinking.  Maybe I should steal El Generico’s gimmick – he’s dead so he doesn’t need it anymore.  I’m not sure how I feel about wrestling in a mask though. 

When is a rat just a rat?

When I was hiding under the ring one time letting my fetch get dropped on its head (it’s not really a living thing it’s a crash test dummy so don’t feel bad) I saw a rat one time.  Nothing shocking about seeing a rat, a lot of the shows I work are held in real dumps, so there’s bound to be a few rats.  But something about this particular rat got my Spidey sense tingling.  I stared at it and it stared at me for a few minutes before it disappeared into the darkness.  Or maybe it literally disappeared.  I don’t know why, but something about it bumped me. 

Ever since I found out that magic is real I’ve been wondering what else is real.  Vampires?  Bigfoot?  Shapeshifters?  Goblins?  Ghouls?  Santa?  The Queen of England?  Was what I saw that night a magic rat or was it just a rat?  What does it even mean to be a magic rat?  Was it a familiar for another magic person?  Are familiars real?  I don’t have a mentor anymore when it comes to magic (or any other kind of mentor) so I have no one to ask these things.

One thing I know for sure is that the bible says that magic is real.  One of the foster homes I was in for a while was really into God and that’s the exposure I have to religion.  Didn’t care for it personally.  But if the bible is right about magic what else is it right about?  The bible is also pretty definitive in saying that not only is magic real but also that it comes from Satan and you should never do it, which is an issue for someone like me.  There’s a story from the bible where a magic guy is flying around and being magic and evil and Peter uses his God powers to make his magic go away and the magic guy falls to the ground and dies.  Yeah. 

At first I assumed that the chances of me meeting another magic person were close to zero traveling around in the wrestling world.  But I think I could be wrong about that.  Wrestling is a world made up largely of fringe people who don’t (and often can’t) function in the 9-5 world of “normal” people.  People that know about and can do magic have to be the same right?  I think that magic has to be the providence of people who are willing to believe and that’s mostly going to be on the outside of society – which is squarely where wrestlers fall.  You think someone like Necro Butcher has the same system of beliefs as an accountant? 

Statistically being a wrestler and knowing magic are both pretty rare, so throwing in some multiplication it seems like having them both in the same person is almost impossible, but maybe it’s the opposite.  I mean, the guy who taught me about magic was also a wrestler.  Is it possible that most magic people are also wrestlers?  That would really be something wouldn’t it? 

Getting dropped on your head for fun and profit

Here’s the thing.  Unless you happen to get booked on a show for a women’s promotion, and good fucking luck with that, most wrestling shows don’t have any women on the card.  If they do it’s usually one match for women, or maybe just an intergender match.  It’s rare that a show even has two women’s matches.  If they get more than a couple of women on the show they just toss you all into a tag match clusterfuck and call it good.  I know most women like that because it’s easy work but I hate them.  And don’t even get me started on battle fucking royals.  

The point is that right off the bat I have 90% less opportunities to work than a man.  And that’s just the beginning.  Wrestling is fucking hard.  You need a lot of practice to get good at it.  So the less you get booked the worse you are, and the worse you are the less you get booked, and on and on.  It’s one of those self-fulfilling prophecies. 

Of course the real problem is that no one really gives a shit about women’s wrestling.  A few years back the WWE tried to cash in on whatever you want to call it at the time when people were pretending to care about gender equality.  This happens every 10-15 years, everyone gets all riled about how women shouldn’t get treated like garbage.  WWE had a women’s “revolution” and it became popular to pretend that you liked women’s wrestling.  It didn’t last long because you don’t.  It’s like the WNBA and the NBA – it exists but you can’t compare them. 

I actually work a ton for someone as new as I am and you know, being a woman.  A lot of guys at this stage would be lucky to work once a month, and women?  Forget about it.  I know women that have been “in the biz” for six months that have had one match.  I get booked because I have a reputation for being a broad that will take any bump.  It wasn’t that long ago that most women wrestlers couldn’t or wouldn’t even do a basic back bump – even the ones on TV making shitloads of money.  Their matches could be good but it was all very basic stuff – the kind of stuff a man would do in their first match.  Nothing too crazy. 

I get booked because people say that I’ll take any move you want.  My secret?  I don’t.  I’ve only “mastered” (I put that in quotes out of respect to true masters because I barely know what I’m doing) a couple spells, but two of them are very helpful for my chosen profession.  One is healing hands.  Which is just what it sounds like.  Injuries are a fact of life when you fall down for a living, I have a leg up on that because any spot on my body I can heal with magic.  More or less.  I did fuck up my shoulder one time trying to reach a spot on my back to heal it, but I was able to heal the injury I did to myself that I got trying to heal myself.  Which is funny a little.  The healing spell doesn’t even take very much energy.  Seems like it would put it doesn’t. 

But it’s the other spell that gets me booked.  I can create a fetch.  A fetch is . . . something, I don’t even know what it is really, that can look exactly like you.  You have to work on that, the first one I made looked like a six foot tall melted candle with some skin on it.  It can’t do anything, it can’t even fetch things ironically, it just stands there and looks like you.  It’s not alive but it’s like the world’s most accurate and articulated made to order sex doll.  It’s pretty fucking weird to see yourself like that.  The point is that sometimes, not often because it takes a lot of juice, I’ll roll under the ring, create a fetch, and push that back out for my opponent to do whatever they want.  Wail on it with a chair, smash it through a table, or one that people really shit their pants over – an unprotected piledriver.  The kind of stuff they do in Japan. 

It can’t sell but that’s okay in these instances because you wouldn’t sell most of these moves anyway – you’d just lay there like you’re dead, which is all that it can do.  Besides, people are losing their shit over what they just saw anyway and the guy who did the move is prancing around making an ass of themselves so they’re paying attention to that, which helps.  And yes, it’s usually guys doing whatever crazy move is being done.  Most women don’t even know anything that looks cool enough to waste using the spell on.  Which seems like an indictment but why would they learn a move that they can’t use safely?

The only part that sucks is then I’m stuck under the ring until the show is over.  And it’s fucking hot under there. 

It’s like the golden rule kinda

If you drive as much as I do, which you don’t, you start to realize that the road system doesn’t make much sense.  The paths a lot of roads take are illogical when you really examine it and when you drive a lot you can see that.  It’s easy to assume that when they build roads they’re just avoiding something in the landscape that would make it too hard to build, or in more recent times maybe to avoid disturbing some natural feature they want to preserve.  But when you know that magic exists and a little bit about it, a lot of the paths roads follow seem to be laid out in a very specific pattern to channel magical energy.  I have no way to prove it, but it sure looks like it.  I think about this sometimes on my marathon drives – if this is true that means that the government knows about magic and is utilizing it somehow.  The implications of what that could mean are hard to wrap your mind around.

I worked a show in Amarillo last night and before it started they trotted out a skinny woman in a hideous red and green dress to sing the American and Canadian anthems.  Most places don’t bother with the national anthem but this is Texas so I was expecting that.  But why the Canadian anthem?  That threw me for a loop.  Once in a great while when you’re at a “real” sporting event up north I’ve heard they’ll do that, but we’re nowhere near the border.  And we’re in fucking Texas!  It makes no sense. 

Terry Funk is from Amarillo, or at least claimed to be for wrestling purposes.   Years ago when wrestling was popular for a hot Texas minute they released a documentary about it called Beyond The Mat – in the movie theaters and everything.  In that movie they show Terry Funk with his daughters.  Terry Funk, even before he annihilated himself wrestling into his 60s, was not a good looking dude.  And his wife is nothing to get excited about either.  But his daughters are all gorgeous.  How does that happen?

There’s a scene in that movie where a douchebag asshole piece of shit promoter says that he has to be a douchebag asshole piece of shit because if he doesn’t the wrestlers will walk all over him.  This is true.  But when you think about it the wrestlers are trying to fuck over the promoter because they’re expecting the promoter to try and fuck them over.  I guess that’s capitalism in a nutshell, fuck or be fucked.  It’s like one of those snake eating its own tail things, it just keeps feeding itself infinitely forever. How can you fix something like that?  There’s no way to start.  If you try to be the person who doesn’t participate in the scam then you’re like the person who doesn’t hold onto the merry-go-round, you get fucking thrown off.  It’s like when two dopeheads who don’t know each other meet and are trying to ask if the other one has the stuff – it’s hard to make the first move because you don’t want to show your ass.  I guess you could say it’s like a relationship also but I don’t really know about those. 

Everything little thing I do is magic

Magic works by manipulating the energy of the universe.  Some people call it mana, which is dumb.  Some people call it quintessence which is also dumb.  Some call it chi, which I think is dumb too but I don’t say that it’s dumb because that’s racist maybe?  There’s a bunch of other words for this energy but most of them are stupid.  I just call it magic.  The first guy that told me about magic called it ñeque, I don’t know what that means but he was from Mexico so it made more sense for him to call it that maybe.

This energy is all over the place (on earth) but mostly it’s in living creatures.  You can draw it just from the “air” around you but not much.  You can train yourself to store more inside your own body than most people, which I am doing, but it takes a while to really build up a good reserve.  You can also get it from other living beings, either by killing them, which I am not into, or by having them give it to you willingly.  That’s why a lot of magic people start cults.  I don’t like that word because it has a negative spin but what else are you going to call a group of followers whose only real deal is to help you become more powerful?   

That’s what all that chanting and ritual stuff is about – it helps non-magic people focus their energy and pass it to the magic person leading the ceremony.  What they’re doing is all basically nonsense, it doesn’t really matter what the “ceremony” is as long as it concentrates people’s thoughts in the right way.  Doing magic is hard, you need a lot of energy to do anything, which is why it helps to have a throng of followers feeding it to you.

I had one follower once.  He looked like the Macho Man only not muscular.  He looked like a cross between the Macho Man and that goofy skinny kid who was in all the teen sex movies in the 00s.  He was in an episode of Breaking Bad too.  He was the undercover cop who got Badger.  My main problem with attracting followers, aside from not liking most people, is that I move around too much.  To get a good cult going you need a base of operations.  The skinny Macho Man did customer service so he traveled around with me for a while, I’d be driving to my next booking and he’d be sitting in the seat next to me with a laptop and a headset on taking calls.  To this day I have no idea what people were calling him to help them with.  Something about mortgages or bankruptcy maybe.

He’d help me out with magic but one follower doesn’t give you a lot of energy – it’s like having one potato chip, it doesn’t go far.  He did more to help me by making and selling merch at my shows.  He came up to me after a show geeking out about how he was a big fan and asked me if he could buy my ring gear (which is a gross thing some women do).  I told him no, but asked if he wanted to join my cult as a joke.  He said he was into it and that was that.  He mostly wanted me to cast a spell to make his ex-wife take him back.  I mostly wanted him to pay for gas and hotel rooms.  I never cast any spell but eventually his ex-wife did take him back because she got knocked up by some other guy and needed help.  The skinny macho man gave me the credit for it anyway.

I’m not sure how to swing it but if I could get a traveling cult with me that would really help.  I don’t understand how they get money though.  Those people that follow Phish around in concert – how do they make a living and afford Phish merchandise?  It would be doubly useful because besides giving me their magic juice, they could all come to my shows as well and cheer for me.  It would help me get booked if I brought a couple dozen fans with me to every show I worked.  Plus with that many people maybe there would be a camper van or something in the mix and I wouldn’t have to sleep in my car.