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LETTERS FROM MY MOM'S BASEMENT
by Marx Rayner
 
Dear Rey Mysterio
 
By now, we've heard the disappointing news and it's hit us all with the fury of nacho tacquito diarrhea. Of course, I make reference to your recent thirty-day suspension for taking a banned substance. I'm writing this on a Monday, over twenty-four hours before you're slated to drop the Intercontinental Title at the Smackdown tapings, presumably to Dolph Ziggler.

Of course, none of us are particularly happy over the news. I mean, a banned substance? Rey, you know that in the fallout of the scandals of Eddie Guerrero and Chris Benoit dying, that WWE is going to attempt to turn up the heat and become an overly glorified detox center. And look who you've let down. You let Vince McMahon down, who would NEVER push a 5'5" wrestler under normal circumstances and now has ammunition to cancel a future push. You let down Dolph Ziggler, who probably feels like he's getting the title by default (assuming he is the one who wins it). You let Eddie Guerrero down, the man you shamelessly dedicated your career to on countless occasions by going down the path that killed him. You let the marks down, who buy into your super hero act and snatch up all of your merchandise.

Rey, who HAVEN'T you let down?

The internet wrestling community. That's who.
See, a few weeks ago, Kurt Angle was involved in a bizarre incident wherein he was arrested on stalking and drug possession charges. Because he works for TNA, we smarks all came out and ridiculed him without having the complete story. Because that's what we do. When a wrestler we harbor confusing ill will toward messes up, we make our voices heard! On message boards. And forums. But if we could do it to their faces, we would! INTERNET TOUGH GUYS FTW!

But I digress. Angle got mocked by us because he no longer works for WWE. As long as you're under McMahon's bubble, we'll usually find a way to justify anything you do wrong. This is because WWE is a part of our regular schedules. Wake up at 2 PM, eat some chips, go online till 9 PM while snacking, watch Raw. We don't deviate from our schedules at all. So as long as the WWE cloud hangs over your head, we'll just look past whatever you do wrong.

Don't believe me? Let's take a look at your WWE career.

After discovering you in 1994, we followed your career through 2002 and noticed you were never anything more than a lean, albeit well-toned, high flyer. If you weighed more than 145 pounds, we'd be surprised. Smarks know what 145 pounds looks like. Either we're 145 right now until the day we die, or that's what we weighed in gym class when we were 9. There's really no middle ground. But regardless, as soon as you stepped through the curtain in your Smackdown debut in 2002, you appeared to have developed a rigid diet of roids, roids, more roids, and roids in drinkable form. Also, you had a HUGE and very pointless spinal tattoo which I'm sure serves to cover up any backne that your steroid regimen might dredge up. This is also why fat, greasy guys always have homeless-man beards. Not shaving is cheaper than Clearasil.

But there was no outcry over your acquisition of sheer bulk. Hell, just the opposite. In fact, the very second you showed us you can still do a diving headscissors, we fucking FORGOT about the excess weight! You could have showed up to Smackdown with track marks up and down both arms and shaking violently from a heroin addiction, but if you still could hit a diving seated senton, we would have said "Man, Rey hasn't lost a step! Look at him go!".

See, Rey, us smarks are dense enough not to change course on our feelings no matter what the circumstances present. Don't believe me? Look at how many of us still defend Chris Benoit to this day. "Give us the footage back, Vince! He had concussions!". Sounds absurd, doesn't it? Ohh, you bet it does. We can justify double homicides as long as we can get unedited wrestling shows to enjoy. By the way, I'm a virgin if you couldn't tell.

But sometimes, as smarks, we overreact to things. Look at the other controversies you've been involved with in your WWE career. You were in a storyline where Eddie Guerrero was allegedly the real father of your son Dominik, and it was so unabashedly appalling and intelligence-insulting that we condemned the very idea that a child-services agency would allow the custody of a nine-year-old boy to be determined through a fight involving steel ladders. And what happened when Eddie died? You dedicated your career to him, which is fine. Considering that three months ago, he was mocking the fact that he had to 'seal the deal' with your wife because you were shooting blanks, but regardless. You wound up dedicating all future victories to him and wearing his initialled armband at all times, presumably while fucking your wife that you couldn't fully satisfy according the storyline (SIDENOTE: did Eddie father your daughter also? Was she your offspring through some miracle that allowed you to finally conceive? WE DEMAND AN EXPLANATION!). And through your dedication, guys like Randy Orton and Mark Henry and JBL would mock your dead (for real) ally. THIS was really appalling. And then you feuded with Eddie's WIDOW! And his NEPHEW! And they were the HEELS!

Reread that entire paragraph, Rey. Hell, you have a month off, take your time. Had these storylines involved someone like Kane or Mike Knox or Chris Masters or Vladimir Kozlov, we would never let them forget how useless they are, multiplied by the stupidity of their body of work.

But you're made of teflon, Rey. You have several advantages that keep us from trashing you to death.

-You currently work for WWE, the afforementioned "always a part of our lives" theory.

-You worked for WCW, giving us a chance to defend you whenever you're involved in a bad angle/pointless jobbing by saying "They used him better in WCW!" (also known as "The Booker T Principle"). Truthfully, we love having ammo that allows us to bitch for hours.

-You worked for New Japan as well as the original ECW, which evokes a high amount of nostalgic testosterone from our pores at the mere sight of you. The author of this letter once bricked a bag of seed in the front of his jockeys when former ECW jobber Tony Devito appeared as a jobber three years ago. So you can imagine what your level of acceptance is!

So because of these three principles (work for WWE, previous WCW experience, previous Japan/ECW experience), we will never doubt you for a second. Smarks like to live in the past and talk about what happened "back when wrestling was good". WWE can shove Dolph Ziggler and The Miz and Kofi Kingston towards us all they want. But their resumes SUCK. They will never compare to you.

So while you sit home and ride out your suspension, remember that we may be annoyed that you took drugs NOW, but wait till your October return rolls around. When you run in and take down Ziggler or Punk or Jericho or whoever, we will leap out of our chairs (depending on how bad our fat-induced sciatica is) and cheer, forgetting that you broke the law and caused further damage to your misshapen body.

And Rey, if you don't believe me, just think back to the career of Chris Benoit. Even after he'd stumble to the ring in his later years, looking like a cloudy-eyed, tense, overroided, vacant stub of anti-humanity with a brain resembling melted Swiss cheese, we still screamed orgasmically with every chop he stung a healthy and clearly inferior midcarder with. Up until the day he died, we were looking forward to him demolishing the new ECW roster, and remained whistful that his sadistic pain would continue.

And you will continue, Rey. And if you drop dead from your drug consumption, we'll still have the sweet memories.

Come on back soon!

Booyakally yours,
M.R.
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Marx Rayner spends his days watching wrestling and bitching about it afterward. His nights are pretty much the same, except he bitches while watching it. His mavenism of the business has left him with no time for dating, social activity, or proper hygiene, but he assures us that this is strictly by choice. His myspace is http://www.myspace.com/pwn3dbymarx, and encourages you to be his friend. He'd do the same for you. Marx can also be found at http://twitter.com/marxrayner, where he continues to stand behind his pulpit, expounding wrestling truth. Also, the pulpit helps him keep his balance.

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TWF FLASHBACK

November 2006

SATIRE: DISCONTINUED WWE XMAS PRODUCTS!

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.).