In the coolest story I've reported since starting Deadface (in my opinion), AnchorWeb.org takes a look at the Kemper Arena in Kansas City, Missouri as part of their Haunted America feature this week, claiming that there have been multiple sightings of the ghost of Owen Hart by the arena's employees. Those employees say that they've actually seen Owen in the rafters, wearing his Blue Blazer costume. There have apparently also been reports of lights flickering and power sources that have gone on and off around the arena. God forbid Yvette Fielding and her merry band of asses from the Travel Channel's (Living TV in the UK) Most Haunted hear about this. Actually, that'd be so awesome. They'd bring in that fake psychic Derek Acorah, who'd get possessed like he does every fucking week, and he'd scream out "I AM NOT A NUGGET!!!" and I'd laugh and laugh and laugh. Pfft, if anything, someone needs to call Bill Murray and the rest of the Ghostbusters; at least a fake team of parapsychologists is better than a team of dumbasses who visit supposedly haunted locations for a cheap thrill. Holy shit, did I really just use this report to take a shot at a shitty show and expose my paranormal geekiness at Owen's expense? God, I'm such a nerd. Thankfully, TWF's very own Sean Carless blew the lid off of this story and let us know what's REALLY going on. Thanks, Sean. Now where'd I put my Ghostbusters DVD?
Triple H no-showed Raw on Monday because of a "family issue". Let's keep this guy away from all gym equipment for a while, okay? As it turns out, the "issue" was the death of a brother-in-law, who died "unexpectedly". Well, Pedigrees are quite unexpected. Yeah, that's all the jokes I'm making here; I'd like to think that I have a smidge of respect for the recently deceased. I'm not Warrior, after all. Speaking of Triple H... Like Matt Hardy, Triple H's piping hot love seed will not die. Rumors are floating around saying that Stephanie McMahon is pregnant. Yes, again. I just got this great visual of Triple H's sperm ravaging Stephanie's innards with sledgehammers as they race towards the egg. Awesome. Remember to say "WELCOME TO THE WORLD" to little Ariel Rapunzel Levesque-McMahon in nine months, everyone.
Super sad news here... for me. Both Raven and Al Snow have been shitcanned from their respective companies. I can understand that Raven's talents weren't being utilized at all, so it'd be silly to keep the guy (or even give him a push, apparently), but Al?! The guy trains people, and I'm sure he trains them very fucking well... unless you count Bobby Lashley, but we all make mistakes. I won't say that I hope Al joins TNA, though; since when does every former WWE wrestler with a pink slip have to immediately jump to TNA? Then again... he's a former WWE guy and he's over 40... he's perfect for TNA~! Al is currently taking bookings, however; someone do me a favor and book him for one night in my bedroom on my birthday. What? I'm not an Al Snow fangirl, I swear.
Speaking of shitcanned... Friday Night Smackdown will be leaving the CW Network at the end of the 2007 - 2008 season. It'd be especially nice if they couldn't find another channel to air this show on; then people wouldn't have to suffer through the mess that is the Michelle McCool/Chuck Palumbo domestic abuse storyline. I wouldn't be surprised if the Oxygen Network picked up the CW's sloppy seconds. At least the commercials would be funny: "Tonight, on Oxygen... Michelle McCool stars as a tormented soul with an abusive boyfriend on WWE Friday Night Smackdown. Then, Meredith Baxter Birney is bludgeoned to death with a hot fire poker, in the Oxygen Original Movie event, 'Hot Fire Poker'." That'd be so awesome up until the point where Vince convinces Meredith to appear on Smackdown as Michelle's mom. News of Smackdown leaving the CW has somehow been picked up by many major media outlets, who I thought swore off of reporting wrestling news after that whole Benoit thing. Admit it, Associated Press... you can't get enough of Vince McMahon and his high-def sphincter. You love it. One of us. One of us. One of us. What was I on about again?
Word has recently gotten out saying that one of the main reasons Bobby Lashley left had to do with a below par Wrestlemania 23 payoff. Reportedly, Lashley got himself a cool $250,000 - you know, Diva Search-level pay - and went off upon realizing that some people had earned up for a million bucks. Is this baby-headed bastard kidding me? I think I can safely neither you nor I make $250,000 in a year, let alone in one night. Lashley, the asshole, all he had to do was kiss Trump's ass, wrestle a shitty match against You-manga, and flash that shit-eating grin of his as he rid McMahon's doughy, white cranium of all its hair. What gives? I earn $10,000 a year bathing the elderly! YOU TRY STICKING YOUR WASHCLOTH-WRAPPED HAND INTO YOUR GRANDMA'S ASS FOR LESS THAN $40 A DAY, LASHLEY. Lashley can take that 250 grand, walk over to the unemployment office (which happens to be conveniently located in Universal Studios), and shove all that cash straight up his ass... or, you know, send it to me. Lord knows I'd be more appreciative.
It's time for hilarious meet-and-greet news, and your least interesting news bit of week! Former WWF "star" Virgil will be available to sign your non-Virgil merchandise over at the World of Wheels on Saturday and Sunday in Indianapolis, Indiana. Something tells me that Virgil's in for the loneliest weekend of his life. Also up for a hilarious day of meeting fans are "Cowboy" James Storm, Eric Young, Traci Brooks and Crystal Louthan, all of whom will be appearing Saturday at the White Horse Flea Market in Greenville, South Carolina. I hear they'll be seated in between the guy who sells airbrushed t-shirts and the guy who's shamelessly shilling piece-of-shit computer parts. Should be a fun day.
Back in the safe haven of my own studio, and with nary a scratch, this is Hey Man, Nice Shoot! The Ultimate Warrior has been sent to a psychiatric medical facility, where he won't be bashing gays or snacking on livers for a long, long time. In that case, allow me to bring out my special guest, the guy who would be named Orange Julius Caesar had he lived during Roman Empire times... HULK HOGAN~!
[Hogan's music hits, and His Orangeness slowly struts and poses his way into the studio.]
Let's go, Hogan, we don't have all day!
[The minutes-long entrance music finally ends as Hogan flips his arms and cups his ears to nonexistent crowds. After much ballyhoo, Hogan seats himself.]
Dear God, dude.
Hogan: DUDE IS RIGHT, DUDE. It's great to be here, brother. You should consider yourself lucky to have me here, sitting down, doin' an interview for all the little Hulkamaniacs out there, brother!
I'm blessed. Really. So, Hulk, congrats on the success of American Gladiators. I never thought I'd see the day where millions of Americans who just came off the heels of loathing big, beefed-up men who could potentially murder their families tune in to watch big, beefed-up men who could potentially murder their families. So, yeah, congrats.
Hogan: It's a real blast to host American Gladiators, dude. I'm especially glad that I don't have to sit alongside Mike Adamle, brother.
Adamle: That's because I work for WWF now, Hunk Duggan!
It's WWE. And it's Hulk Hogan.
Adamle: That's not what Jeff Harvey told me! And, like, Shannon Benjamin and P Diddy V helped me learn all of the wrestlers' names so I don't mess up!
[Cut to Jeff Hardy's house, where Jeff, Shelton Benjamin and Big Daddy V are rolling on the floor, laughing, as they watch Adamle make an ass of himself. V then rolls too far and mows over Jeff and Shelton. Jeff Hardy and Shelton Benjamin have fallen. Cut back to the Hey Man, Nice Shoot studio.]
Adamle: ...and there's VIP, who had a great feud with Jeff's brother Mitch Harvey...
Dear God, Adamle. Quit while you're not ahead.
Hogan: Quit?! Quitting's for quitters, brother!
Hey, that's some great insight there, Hulk. Adamle, piss off, will you? I've got an interview to conduct here.
Adamle: Sure thing, Cassidy Pervez Musharraf. Maybe you can book me for a little one-on-one time here on Hey Dude, Neat Shit.
Christ. Just leave before you make me say the Lord's name in vain for the millionth and first time.
Adamle: No problem, Caffeine. Remember, just call and ask for Mick Adamlevine.
GO AWAY~! So, Hulk, back to American Gladiators. What's up with that Wolf guy? Is he some kind of psychotic on a day pass?
Hogan: Ask him yourself, brother. Wolf likes to follow me around like I'm his wolf mother, dude, and he occasionally sucks on my big, orange teats, brother.
WHAT?! That'd explain the beyond enormous lump under your shirt.
[Wolf suddenly spills out from under Hogan's shirt. He laughs and gets to his feet.]
Now I've seen everything.
Wolf: Have you seen the world through rose-colored glasses? I don't need 'em - I always see red... FROM BLOOD. HAHA!
Wolf: Okay, so I've gotta work on that one.
Wolf. I need to know... you haven't used a Big Bad Wolf quote, have you?
Wolf: Well... maybe... yeah.
You're an embarrassment. Expect a call from Vince McMahon soon.
Wolf: Hehe, cool. Would you ever root for me in a WWE ring?
Not by the hair on my chinny chin chin, Wolf. Now go away.
[Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, Nick Hogan spills out from Hogan's shirt as well.]
Nick: SHHH~! I'm hiding from the cops, dude.
Worst hiding spot ever. If you don't ever want to be found, you should jump into your dad's green banana hammock.
Hogan: HOLY CRAP, BROTHER, GOOD IDEA. Nick, quickly, get into my pants, dude!
Nick: Way ahead of you, brother!
I think I'll shield my eyes now.
Hogan: WHOA~! Nick, brother, watch the grapefruits!
Is it safe to look? Wonderful.
Wolf: TIME TO DRINK THE BLOOD OF THE MOTHER JACKAL! BWAHAHAHA!
[Wolf runs out of the studio on all fours like the crazy bastard he is.]
Ooookay. So, Hulk, how's the divorce going?
Hogan: Let me put it this way, brother. I would've never made it to Mardi Gras if I had Linda all over my ass, dude.
So you're enjoying your newly-found single status?
Hogan: Who wouldn't, dude? I totally deserved a break from Linda's constant naggin' and bitchin', brother.
Well, I wouldn't mind getting with a dude... like Claudio from Coheed and Cambria. Or Raven... ten years ago. Or Rob Van Dam's ass - not all of him, just the ass. That thing would put J-Lo's ass to shame any day of the week.
Hogan: You've totally lost me, dude.
Story of my life. Okay, let me ask you about that last WWE appearance of yours. On a scale of God-awfulness from 1 through 10, 1 being Shark Boy fish puns, and 10 being another fucking Diva Search, how would you rate your disastrous altercation with the Great Khali?
Hogan: LET ME TELL YA SOMETHIN', MEAN GENE~! My altercation with Khali so far up there with my Wrestlemania III match against Andre the Giant, dude! No buts about it, brother; if I had gorilla pressed Khali 'til he begged for mercy in perfect, all-American English, that capacity crowd would've blown the roof right into Michael Cole's ass where the Smackdown fist currently resides, DUDE.
I totally disagree with you, but the fact that you've confirmed to the Shoot fans that the Smackdown fist really did retire into Cole's ass is a great way to cap off this interview. A big thanks to Hulk Hogan for stopping by this week. Join me next week for a very special chat with none other than Edge, and he'd better wear that long coat of his that I like so much. Ahem.
That concludes another obscenely late edition of Deadface Walking. I guess you can send feedback for this one in a week or two as payback or something. Make sure to check out all of this week's fantastic updates if you haven't already: last week's Deadface. Man, that Catherine Perez sure is a hard-working lady. What? WHAT? Cameron Burge's RAW RANT brings us Vince McMahon's Kiss My Ass Club; in HD, we find out that Vince's cornhole actually leads to another dimension where Raw is entertaining. Too bad not a soul dares to enter it. Joe Merrick fills in for the missing James Swift with the ECW on SCI-FI RANT. Powerful water current drags Chavo Guerrero back to Mexico, and Stevie Richards returns to give wrestling fans hope. GUESS WHO'S HHHAVING A BABY... again! Stephanie might be carrying another demon seed, so Sean's reflecting back on the birth of Aurora Rose in this classic Satire to celebrate. Ah, memories. No Way Out's just around the corner, so what's a better way to anticipate two Elimination Chamber matches than with Sean's NO WAY OUT 2005 RANT. It's the Barbed Wire Steel Cage Match... but I'll be damned if that wire was barely touched throughout the match. Last, but not least, is the world premiere of 2008's short film of the year, THE HAUNTING 2: OWEN A-LIVING, created by soon-to-be Oscar-winning director Sean Carless! It's like Extreme Ghostbusters, only without the paraplegic or the goth chick. The Mexican and the black guy? You've fuckin' got it, unless Shelton Benjamin was sent to get Vince some coffee or something. Yeah. Well, I'm out like the aforementioned paraplegic in a game of Dance Dance Revolution. Toodles~!
THE TWF "MENTAL WELLNESS TEST!"
With Christmas just around the corner, what better way to spend your few remaining dollars (left over after the seemingly infinite line-up of fucking pay-per-views ) then on the following "quality WWE merchandise!" After all, if they don't move this stuff, and fast, stockholders just might get time to figure out what "plummeting domestic buyrates" means!... and well, I don't think they need to tell you what that means! (Seriously. They're not telling you. Everything is fine! Ahem.).