Home | Columns & Rants | Satire | Entertainment | Media | Archives | Forum

The Sixth Child presents…


A look at the world of wrestling through the eyes of a film buff.


V3(ahhhhh) – “Airheads” starring Chris Jericho.

So Chris Jericho quit wrestling a while back to pursue a music career with his rock band Fozzy. You sure that was a smart move, Chris? When will your kind learn that once you’re in the wrestling industry, you can NEVER get out. Seriously, ask Eddie Guerrero and the extra 13 weeks they ran a storyline around him AFTER HE DIED.

Why is it that when I hear the phrase ‘a wrestler is pursuing a career outside the industry’, I picture the following cycle.

Stage 1) Said wrestler leaves for a year

Stage 2) Said wrestler embarrasses themselves as they try to recreate their WWE persona in the mainstream

Stage 3) Said wrestler returns to the ring with their tail between their legs OR ends up as a punch-line on ‘The Soup’.

Don’t get me wrong, Chris Jericho is a brilliant in-ring professional. Like the Rock, I didn’t realise how much he meant to the WWE until he decided to make tracks. But am I the only one cringing at the fact he’s decided to take the same road as Lita and Joanie fucking Laurer? Here’s a pop quiz for all you readers out there. Despite being a decent singer, can you name ONE SONG Lillian Garcia has commercially released? I rest my case. </rant>

Anyway, Jericho ’s decision to leave the WWE got me thinking about the 1994 film “Airheads” starring Brendan Fraser, Steve Buscemi and Adam Sandler. The trio play a rock band at the end of their tether as they struggle to get their big break. So they sneak into a radio station hoping to play their demo tape on the air, but instead hold the building hostage using plastic guns.

So we take you now to sunny California where Chris Jericho has just been thrown out of a recording company’s offices by security guards. He was caught once again disguised as a delivery man trying to give his Fozzy demo tape to record executives.

Jericho’s girlfriend is so pissed at how much of a low-life he’s become, she throws him out on the street and dumps his 12 boxes containing back-order copies of Fozzy’s debut album (and before you write in, it was 80% cover songs).

So Jericho shacks up with his fellow band members. Guitar player Mike Martin works at the local toy store and has a thing for toy guns. Drummer Eric Sanders is a pool-boy. The trio arrive back at their messy apartment to discuss their next move.

MIKE: Chris, you said if this went on for more than 3 months, you’d go back to Vince McMahon and ask for your old job back so we can get publicity through his pay-per-views.

JERICHO: Guys, I will only go back to Vince McMahon when hell freezes over and platypuses fly out of my butt!

(long uncomfortable pause)

MIKE: Chris, that wasn’t funny the first time you said it in 1999, and it damn sure isn’t funny now.

ERIC: Jericho , you either get us out of this or we’re going our separate ways!

JERICHO: Are you nuts!? The human highlight reel is the only reason people don’t mistake our band for a Muppets character! You can’t get rid of Y2J!

ERIC: Chris, it’s 2007. The name Y2J became redundant at the turn of the millennium!

After an hour of pointless bickering, the guys decide to go to a local bar to drown their sorrows. The venue is packed to the bleachers as up-and-coming band Sons of Thunder hold a concert to celebrate the signing of their new record contract. The events is MCed by Ian, the famous DJ from radio station KPPX.

IAN: Alright you low-lifes! Tonight we’re here to party with our buddies the Sons of Thunder!


MIKE: Man, didn’t we blow these queens off the stage six months ago?

ERIC: Is it just me, or does that lead singer look familiar?

(Note: No, it’s not Chris Jericho, but until I did some research for this column, I always thought it was. Tell me he doesn’t look A LITTLE like him!)

JERICHO LOOK-ALIKE: Alright, first I’d like to say thanks to Ian, and KPPX who got our band signed!

JERICHO: That’s what we’ve got to do.

MIKE: Straighten our hair?

JERICHO: No, we just have to convince the people at the radio station to play our demo tape.

ERIC: Chris, the radio would rather have Don Imus back than play our tape. What makes you think they’ll go for it?

JERICHO: Why? Because RAW is Jericho ! And the medium of radio is nothing without all those Jerichoholics chanting my name!

ERIC: (to MIKE) Are you sure we can’t just…

MIKE: I’ll get the car.

The trio drive to KPPX radio station where they manage to break in undetected. Jericho , Mike and Eric sneak into the radio booth as Ian the DJ sorts through some CDs.

(Fozzy shuffle in to the booth. IAN finally notices the three guys grinning idiotically at him)

ERIC: Hey.

MIKE: We’re a band.

IAN: Of course! The Partridge Family. Which one of you is Laurie?

JERICHO: That’s not nearly as funny as the time I called Stephanie McMahon a filthy, dirty, disgusting, skanky, brutal, bottom feeding, trash bag ho!

(ALL stare at JERICHO blankly)

MIKE: Listen Ian, we’re huge fans…

IAN: (to JERICHO ) Wait a minute. I know you! You’re Chris Jericho! You’re a great wrestler.

JERICHO: Why thank you so much, Ian.

IAN: (signalling to MIKE and ERIC) Who are these guys? Your bodyguards?

Having heard that exact sentence about four times on the way over to KPPX, Mike explodes in a fit of rage and pulls out one of his toy guns.

IAN: Whoa! Take it easy, bro. You said you were a band. I’m sorry. I’m sure you guys know how to rock ‘n’ roll…

MIKE: Rock ‘n’ roll!? Do you know what it's like to be on a bill to play for 15 minutes and the only people there to see you are the other bands and their girlfriends? Don't talk to me about Rock 'n' Roll! I'm out there in the clubs and on the streets and I'm living it! I am Rock 'n' Roll!

JERICHO: Dude, we played at, like, seven pay-per-views.

ERIC: Yeah, and at sold-out festivals in Denmark.

MIKE: Yeah, right, like they all came to see us especially!

(long uncomfortable pause)

ERIC: Good point.

MIKE: Listen Ian, you either play our music on the air right now or I’m gonna start shooting.

Eric hands Ian a CD which he puts in and presses play. After 15 seconds Ian interrupts.

IAN: Wait a minute. Isn’t this “Stay Hungry” by Twisted Sister?

ERIC: Yeah, so?

IAN: So? You’re singing someone else’s song. You can’t just rip off other people’s music.

ERIC: Napster did.

MIKE: (sighs) Fine, play the next track.

Ian plays the next track, but interrupts again after 20 seconds.

IAN: Jesus Christ, you ripped off “Freewheel Burning” by Judas Priest?

JERICHO: Man, what is your problem?

IAN: I hate to break this to you guys, but in order to be a successful group, it pays to write your own music once in a while.

JERICHO: Those songs sounded pathetic before we covered them. I mean, what has Ozzy Osbourne and Iron Maiden got that Fozzy hasn’t got?

The switchboards suddenly light up with callers who supply plenty of answers to Jericho ’s question. Among the callers is the police, who have asked the band to stay calm and not do anything rash.

POLICE: We have just one request.

JERICHO: Of course! Which Fozzy song would you like to hear? End of Days? Balls to the Wall? Mob Rules?

POLICE: Fuck no! I request you let some hostages go as a show of good faith.

JERICHO: I thought you were supposed to be friendly to hostage-takers.

POLICE: Man, I should have you arrested just for what you did to Balls to the Wall! I christened my kid to that song!

IAN: Must’ve had God doin’ the horns.

Jericho starts searching the other rooms for people. He spots a blonde-haired surfie on the phone who he realises is David Arquette.

DAVID: (on the phone) Yeah, I consider 3000 Miles to Graceland to be my best work. That was a great time to be alive. I was actually the WCW heavyweight champion. (pauses) Will you stop laughing please? I’m serious. It was a great time to be a wrestling fan too. I mean, my heavyweight championship reign and “Ready 2 Rumble”? That made it a way better time than the Attitude era.

Jericho then empties a full clip into the side of Arquette’s head.

Jericho’s shameless act of homicide sees numerous wrestling fans flock to the parking lot of KPPX to cheer Fozzy on. TV reporters also flood the scene.

JOUNRALIST: I’m here at KPPX radio station where thousands of wrestling fans have...

WWE FAN: Woooooo! Y2J! Woooooo!

JOURNALIST: Excuse me sir, why are you here tonight?

WWE FAN: Because, it’s like, wrestling, which is all like, cool. It’s almost like, art, but not faggy art like that Da Vinci guy. This is cool. Candice Michelle will you marry me?! Wooooo!

JOURNALIST: What do you think of Chris Jericho?

WWE FAN: Man, he’s really funny when he says “Shut the Hell Up!” (sniggers uncontrollably)

JOURNALIST: (pauses) …OK. Are you a fan of his band, Fozzy?

WWE FAN: Jericho ’s in a band?

Meanwhile, back in the studio, the band are trying to figure out their list of demands.

MIKE: Hey Chris, we got a killer list goin'.

ERIC: Yeah, check it out. We ask for airplay and whatever else we want, then we demand a whole bunch of weird stuff. This way we can plead insanity later.

JERICHO: Cool. Put me down for a tape featuring nothing but Kenzo Suzuki matches back-to-back.

ERIC: Dude, they’ll lock you up for sure!

Fozzy call the cops and make their list of demands. In between requesting a football helmet full of cottage cheese and naked pictures of Bea Arthur, they demand a recording contract. This demand would prove harder than the Bea Arthur pics, as no record producer has ever even heard of Fozzy. But there is one man with money who is willing to help them out.

MIKE: Chris! There’s someone here who wants to see you.

JERICHO: (freezes) …Vince McMahon…?

VINCE: Hey, Chris! Good to see you again! How’s Fonzy doing?

ERIC: Fozzy.

VINCE: Fozzy! Of course. I love rap music!

JERICHO: We’re not interested in what you have to say Vince. I told you, I’m out of wrestling for good.

VINCE: Chris, look around you! There are police officers, TV reporters and thousands of people out there watching this ordeal unfold!

ERIC: Look, we know what we’re doing is wrong, but…

VINCE: Wrong!? Are you nuts! This is just what WWE is looking for! We’re willing to put anyone or anything on TV who can generate publicity for our company.

ERIC: Even if we’re felons?

VINCE: Sure! My people are trying to work the West Virginia shooting into this week’s episode of ECW. IT’S EXTREME! Nothing can possibly go wrong there!

JERICHO: Vince, the answer is no.

MIKE: (taking Jericho aside) Jericho , this could be our only chance to get the band off the ground. Can’t you just swallow your pride and accept his offer?

JERICHO: Hey Vince. Who would win in a wrestling match, Lemmy or God?

VINCE: Well, since I beat God with the help of Shane, the product of my semen, and I don’t know who Lemmy is, meaning no-one who is interested in wrestling will know who Lemmy is either, I would have to say the next 7-foot muscled douchebag who walks into my office.

( JERICHO looks at MIKE)

MIKE: (screeching at Vince) I’LL KILL YOU!!!

Mike grabs Vince by the throat and drags him in to the building. The remaining band-members eventually pull Vince and Mike off each-other and take them to separate ends of the building. Ian and Jericho stay with Vince.

IAN: Chris, I still don’t get why you had to break in here with guns to convince us to play your music.

JERICHO: Well maybe you can explain why don’t you ever play our music!

IAN: I tend to stick to the classics. Rock ‘n’ Roll’s been downhill since Lennon died.

JERICHO: My whole life these people have been cramming this classic-rock crap down my throat. You really think I give a shit about the Beatles?

IAN: No offence, but today’s music hasn’t got a whole lot to say.

JERICHO: Is that right? So you’re gonna tell me that “Purple Haze” says something?

IAN: Alright smartass, recite some lyrics from one of your songs.


IAN: (shaking his head) Yeah, that was deep.

JERICHO: You know what that song was called?

VINCE: Chris! That was amazing!

IAN: (distastefully) What?

VINCE: That sound! It was so powerful! So fresh! So…

IAN: …1984 power-ballad worthy?

VINCE: Yes! That’s better than ‘Hey! Nothing you can say! I’ll go eat some hay! Use Colgate for tooth decay! My TV’s liquid crystal display…!’ (tm James Walker)

IAN: Will you get to the point.

VINCE: Why didn’t you tell me you made this kind of music?

JERICHO: I sent you copies of our albums all the time. Didn’t you ever listen to them?

VINCE: (eyes darting) Uhhh, yeah, of course, Foxxy rocks. Anyway, I’m so impressed with your musical talent, I’m going to sign you up for a record contract…

JERICHO: (shocked) OH MY GOD…!

VINCE: … at SmackDown! records.

(long deafening silence)

JERICHO: (sigh) Close enough.

So Vince and the rest of the band sit and nut out a contract that suits everyone’s needs. Since Vince used the same negotiation tactics as he did with Brock Lesnar, the process took a total of 12 years, but the bottom line says Fozzy are now officially signed. One of their conditions was to perform live on RAW the following night before Jericho jobs to Ric Flair in a match for the WWE Women’s Title (because Flair decided since he’s never held it before, he needed to at least once). The match before the band’s first set is the Great Khali against some local jobber, but despite 3 months of practice Khali somehow manages to botch a hip-toss, sending the jobber hurtling into the pyrotechnic controls next to the main stage. The pyro goes off prematurely causing the stage, the equipment, Fozzy and, more importantly, the company ironing board to catch fire and everyone dies.




The Sixth Child is a journalist based in Melbourne, Australia . When he’s not feeding his pet kangaroos Binky and Bunky, he watches, reviews and obsesses over films while casually fucking swearing. He was once voted most likely to waste his youth on the internet. SUCKERS!!!! Oh wait…

[All Photoshops created by Sean Carless.]

Bookmark and Share


November 2006


by Sean Carless

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.).