The Sixth Child presents…
A look at the world of wrestling through the eyes of a film buff.
V9(ahhhhh) – “Ali”
(or “Khali”) starring The Great Khali. The Great Khali – World
Heavyweight Champion. Just hearing that very sentence
gives me the absolute irrits. By now I should know better than to rant about the decisions made by WWE creative, but dear
God! The man has ONE THING going for him – he’s TALL! Is that really all it takes to become the next WWE champion? VINCE: Looks like we’ll have to crown a new champion. See
what COACH: Uhhh, he’s a basketball player. VINCE: He’ll play what I tell him to play… (sinisterly) for I AM THE CHAIRMAN OF WWE! There have been some really
bad wrestling champions in the past, but Khali is arguably the worst in history. Think about it. To put a belt on David Arquette
is one thing (dumb), but to put it on someone who doesn’t even qualify as a generic
freakin’ hoss is unforgivable. Khali can’t sell let alone wrestle, his believability is below zero, and he
can’t even talk! I’ve heard of the “anti-hero” and just about any other post-modern bullshit term
you can throw at me, but Khali has coined a new term – the “anti-champion”. Take one of the greatest champions
in history for example – Muhammad Ali. The man could beat you with his mind before he could beat you with his fists,
and he truly had to fight in every sense of the word for everything he achieved. If you walked into a parallel universe and
you found the Great Khali, it would be a midget version of Muhammad Ali. (Then again I shouldn’t give WWE creative any
ideas – chances are their ears prick up as soon as they hear the word ‘midget’.) Those of you who have seen
Michael Mann’s 2001 film “Ali” will understand what I’m talking about, so let’s take a step into that parallel universe and see
the journey of one Dalip Singh, aka The Great Khali. When Singh made his debut in
the WWE, you would remember he was accompanied by Khosrow Daivari. Many don’t know that Daivari was actually a WWE public
speaker for many years, where he would visit impoverished neighbourhoods around the world and speak to congregations about
the teachings of the Honourable Elijah McMahon. Of course Daivari would mostly scream in Arabic, which the majority of his
audiences didn’t understand. But it was that same factor that attracted a young fighter by the name of Dalip Singh –
because no-one understood him either. The two became inseparable,
and Daivari assigned himself as Singh’s manager. Singh was now starting to attract a lot of attention because of his
association with the Honourable Elijah McMahon through Daivari. This naturally led to a massively publicized bout between
Singh and an equally mediocre opponent named Sonny “Tiny” Liston Jr. At the weigh-in, Liston quietly
waited for Singh to arrive. The doors suddenly fly open and in walks Singh and Daivari simultaneously letting fly with a barrage
of Arabic and Indian. After Singh and Liston are
respectively weighed in, Liston gets up to leave. DAIVARI: (to LISTON) ISITFT KISHALIFIQ KORTMULODOLOURR! SINGH: (to LISTON) HOOLAAARGHYURMANTALA!!! LISTON: (frustrated) Yeah, keep talkin’! (to SINGH) I’ma fuck you up! The crowd falls silent as Liston
leaves the room. DAIVARI: If Dalip Singh loses to you, he will crawl out of the ring and take the first jet airplane back to
REPORTER #1: Is that a promise? DAIVARI: You’ll be the first one eating his words! REPORTER #2: Mr Singh, are you scared of him? DAIVARI: Dalip Singh will give Liston talking lessons, wrestling lessons and falling down lessons! REPORTER #3: But Singh’s never done any of those things. (long pause) REPORTER #1: Daivari, Dalip Singh is Indian and you’re Arabic. These two cultures have completely different
languages and customs. It doesn’t make any sense how you would be the best manager for… DAIVARI: (nervously cuts him off) Uhhh, yes! Michael Cole! You have a question. COLE: Daivari, can you tell us again what Dalip Singh’s stats are? (The media congregation collectively moans) DAIVARI: Certainly! Dalip Singh stands over seven feet tall and weighs in at 400 pounds! COLE: Oh my! DAIVARI: All tremble before him and his arsenal of four moves, including the dreaded CLAW! COLE: OH MY! Now that he has added the claw to his moveset, who can stop him? REPORTER #2: Uhhh, someone with five moves? Unfortunately, Tiny Liston
was not that man. Days later when the two met in the ring, audiences (aka, those who bothered to watch it) saw Singh defeat
Liston in an encounter that was slower than a continental plate on heroin. Nevertheless, the Honourable
Elijah McMahon was pleased with Singh’s progress. Daivari on the other hand was more troubled. Having worked alongside
McMahon for many years, Daivari had seen and heard many things behind the scenes which seriously bothered him. So late one
night Daivari pays Singh a visit, where he had to get all his ill-feelings towards McMahon off his chest. DAIVARI: Have you ever thought you’d lose it? Really lose it? SINGH: (nods) Blarghumanifal. DAIVARI: (pause) Right. Well, when I hear about WWE’s stupid plans – the wellness program, dress-code
fines, Stephanie McMahon being appointed head writer – the prohibitions of the Honourable Elijah McMahon prevented me
from speaking my thoughts and action. The anger I felt, I had to contain. I locked it up so tight my muscles seized. I lost
control over the right side of my body. My leg gave out. Right arm gave out. ‘I’m having a stroke’ I thought.
But I had to hold it in because all I wanted to do was find something and break it. Break a part, ANY part of this system
because you were so provoked in your heart, in your spirit as a human being to speak out against Diva Searches, ECW revamps
and illegitimate children angles. All I could do… nothing. Everyone knows I can’t do nothing anymore. So the honourable
Elijah McMahon has suspended me as a spokesperson for WWE. SINGH: (assuring) Kolomortundria. Svergimalnfundal aliopturn focordamniliad. DAIVARI: (pause) I’m glad one of us understands. But little did Daivari know
that McMahon had already taken Singh under his wing. The fact is McMahon loves big wrestlers. Seriously, he can’t get
enough of tall, lanky, partially immobile behemoths whose height seemed to make up for their lack of wrestling talent. So
he offered Singh a massive paycheque, and an invitation to his palatial mansion in MCMAHON: Dalip, only after long service and high merit in the wrasslin’ business do I ever give a fine
athlete such as yourself an original gimmick. But you are special. You’re world championship material. So there is a
gift I wish to give you. From this day forward, you will be known as The Great Khali. SINGH: (nodding and smiling) Gorfalimwalahad. MCMAHON: Yeah, I thought you’d like that. Now where in SINGH: MCMAHON: (laughs) Where? That’s the stupidest name I’ve ever heard. How about we say you currently
reside in Intercourse, SINGH: (shocked) Gralm…? MCMAHON: Alright, fine. We’ll say you’re from SINGH: (pause) Yalma…? MCMAHON: Yalma nothing, that’s it. Unless you want to wear full-body spandex with an airbrushed anus? SINGH: Malanfirtulamangrult, silmikroputiyilumnda. MCMAHON: See, that’s just what I mean. Not a word of English. You’ll make a perfect heel. I mean,
I’m surprised you’ve managed to make it through your life not speaking American. This is World Wrestling Entertainment,
not the UN, am I right? SINGH: (distastefully) Fuck you. MCMAHON: That’s the spirit. Now that McMahon had Khali
under his thumb, he had to get rid of Daivari. I mean, he was good on a microphone and could deliver some impressive manoeuvres
in the ring… but he was short. Y’know what I mean? As in ‘not tall’. And no-one who’s short
can possibly command attention. I mean, just look at that Napoleon guy. Anyway, as he stood before
his congregation, Daivari was brutally shot and killed by McMahon’s henchmen. Honestly, what kind of person speaks out
against stupid decisions? With Daivari gone, The Great
Khali emerged on RAW with McMahon’s blessing. There was no doubt Khali looked impressive. His massive frame towering
over anyone who stood around him made him stand out a mile away. But because RAW was a live show and Khali had a hard time
doing anything but grunt, he simply did not catch on with the fans. Not that that was a problem
for McMahon. What do the fans know? They just pay to watch this stuff. But it was when the heavily-mentioned-but-never-seen
“board of directors” mounted severe pressure on him, the honourable Elijah McMahon had no choice but to demote
Khali. A snap WWE draft was called,
where Khali was one of the poor suckers drafted to ECW. COORDINATOR: “The Masterpiece” Chris Masters, Smackdown. (MASTERS steps forward) COORDINATOR: Torrie Wilson, RAW. ( COORDINATOR: The Great Khali, ECW. (KHALI doesn’t move) COORDINATOR: Khali, I’m required to inform you that refusal
to accept an induction into ECW constitutes a breach of your WWE contract, punishable by dismissal and us “coming to
terms” with your dismissal via a generic message on our website. Do you understand? (KHALI nods) COORDINATOR: The Great Khali, ECW. (KHALI doesn’t move) COORDINATOR: (louder) The Great Khali, ECW. While such an act of defiance
would have seen anyone else fired, Khali was suspended instead. He was ordered to undergo further training and tutelage at
OVW, but all the Al Snows and Jimmy Cornettes in the world couldn’t better Khali’s wrestling ability. They needed something radical,
something bigger than Khali himself to make him more appealing to fans, and therefore more worthy of one day capturing the
WWE title. So after much deliberation, WWE’s writing team came up with a solution. He needed… a new valet? Jesus Christ. Anyway, Khali once had another
valet named Ranjin Singh, but while he was a gifted speaker, he had abandoned Khali due to a serious alcohol and drug addiction.
But after much encouragement from WWE executives, Ranjin turned up to one of Khali’s training sessions to talk to him. RANJIN: (head bowed in shame) Take me back, boss. I’m clean, and this is a resurrection. This is God’s
act. And the prophet is going home. Take me with you boss. I’ll do anything. KHALI: (dramatic pause) Fictulimunget silmandaroop... RANJIN: (raising his head) (rejuvenated) …sikwolothsonzald lokmurdiniap. (wiping tears from his eyes)
Mumble, young man mumble. Khali’s transition was
complete – he went from being a lanky, uncoordinated hoss valeted by a short Arab wrestler to… a lanky, uncoordinated
hoss valeted by a short Indian translator. From here he dominated ECW, headlining every week against such exciting personalities
as Hardcore Holly, Shannon Moore and Elijah Burke. The time had finally come for Khali to take back his “rightful place”
at the top of the championship table. Khali was immediately transferred
to SmackDown!, where General Manager Long King called a press conference to announce an exciting title bout. LONG: The Mumble in the Jungle. That is the name I have given it. The Great Khali will compete in an old-fashioned
battle royale, which is set to take place in REPORTER #1: (chuffs) LONG: Because you miss the significance. See, I dream of overcoming 400 years of racial depression to the dawn
of a new day of liberation, financial or otherwise. It will raise up the spirits of our inner cities. It will rise up and
fill with hope the souls, the unrequited needs of the black proletariat. That is the discouraged, the dispirited, denigrated
denizens of the demimonde that is called the ghetto. REPORTER #2: Uhhh, but the Great Khali isn’t from LONG: (sigh) Fine, we’re going to REPORTER #3: Well, no. You’re putting your wrestlers’ lives at risk by taking them to a notoriously
volatile country, and expecting its impoverished citizens to fork out money they don’t have to watch matches they’ve
probably seen hundreds of times before. LONG: I hear what ya sayin’ playa, so let me break it down for ya like this. Holla holla holla! Get ta
steppin’ and show your love. THE UNDERTAKAAAAA! Believe dat! (LONG runs away) Days later, Khali and his entourage
arrive in CROWD: Khali! Bumaye! Khali! Bumaye! Khali! Bumaye! RANJIN: What are they saying? AFRICAN TRANSLATOR: “Khali. Bumaye.” It means “Khali. Kill him.” RANJIN: Wow. So these people see Khali as some kind of national hero? AFRICAN TRANSLATOR: No, they’re referring to Khali himself. They hate what he has done to wrestling and
they have gathered to kill him. The people of Fight night finally comes,
and due to the harsh reception at the airport, organisers make sure those who do not support Khali are not let in –
along with those pesky fans who start TNA chants in the middle of their tapings. Anyway, the battle royale finally
comes and it’s an exciting encounter as wrestlers are hurled out of the ring in a random and completely unpredictable
fashion… leaving three monsters – Kane, Batista and Khali – to finish the bout. For some reason, Batista
and Kane try to eliminate each other rather than working together to get rid of the most threatening and least talented person
in the ring. Khali waddles over to the two and manages to hurl them over the top rope, thus ending the match and becoming
the new World Heavyweight champion. As if on cue, the heavens open
and rain starts to pour on the Zairian crowd. The Gods could not mock them and the wrestling world any more than they did
this very moment. An awkward, long-limbed, inert, marble-mouthed Khali had captured the most prized possession in professional
wrestling, therefore making this already painfully mediocre pastime all the more difficult to watch, defend and above all
else… enjoy. Mumble, young man, mumble.
THE END CREDITS
TWF FLASHBACK
November 2006
SATIRE: DISCONTINUED WWE XMAS PRODUCTS!
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.).
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