In the year 2000... and a bit, I have noticed the need for a wrestling chant revolution. All the chant entities you hear today are played out and cliché. Therefore, I propose the following chants for your enjoyment and entertainment. Perhaps, wrestling fans may take these catchy phrases with them to live events and make them infinitely famous. I know I am but one man, but with the addition and support of others, I will have enough influence in wrestling to become a massive man who towers over skyscrapers and nearby cities. How will I do this? I'll mostly scotch tape all of us together, then give everyone a bullhorn so we can really be intimidating.
Anyway, here they are:
"Ri-bo-fla-vin, *clap-clap, clap-clap-clap*, Ri-bo-fla-vin, *clap-clap, clap-clap-clap*"
Bran cereals are hardcore. They competed in Extreme Championship Wrestling from 1996 to 1999. All-Bran even stole girlfriend and had a child with your mother... and got away with it. You won't admit it, but it's true. True and sure as sugar.
"Holy piss!"
Why should excrement be the only sacred, human-waste-related object in wrestling? When our God (Kevin Federline) invented Earth, I think he wanted the human race to worship more than one form of bodily cleansing. Therefore, "Number One", also known as urine, should be given priority over "Number Three", which refers to sneezing, and "Number Twenty-Seven", which hasn't been invented yet. If I had to guess, it would either be plasma or nougat.
"Let's get married, *clap-clap, clap-clap-clap*, you're quite enchanting, *clap-clap, clap-clap-clap*"
You know when a scantily clad Diva, or a female wrestler, looks very physically appealing and you can't take your eyes off of her? You know that uncomfortable feeling you get in your enchanted kingdom when there's a very sultry, women's bra and panties bout or pillow fight match on television? Don't those sights just make you want to settle down and start a family? I firmly believe that the integration of catfights into professional wrestling was for the purpose of determining what woman should bare your children. Of course, the winner of the battle would be your most ideal mate since her victory would prove that she is most willing to fight for social status, food, and other necessary supplies. Whatever you do, refrain from choosing the loser for she will be high-maintenance and have the shortest fingernails, therefore making the process of opening cans of various drinks incredibly tiresome.
"STARFISH... BERG! STARFISH... BERG!"
I've always believed that this is what Goldberg was thinking during his grandiose entrances into the arena. Just as the pyro goes off and he uppercuts the air, he seemed to have a surreal, out-of-body experience which suggested his underlying wishes to live in the ocean. For example, I distinctly recall his first WCW World Title victory over Hollywood Hogan. Right after that win, he poured a jug of water on himself and spread his entire body out on the canvas in the middle of the ring; that was when I realized that part of his anger and aggression came from the fact that he's bald and of Jewish faith. Instead, he probably wanted to exist as a being who sporadically shows up on the shore and best befriends Spongebob Squarepants. When he returns to wrestling, watch his eyes. He wants to be a starfish more than anything in the world. The "Starfishberg" gimmick should debut soon after.
"You f*** cups! You f*** cups!"
Hardly anyone will understand it when it's first introduced, but when disposable and plastic cups are confirmed as masculine by both the French language and the Association of Dudes Who are Strangely Comfortable Showering with Each Other, it will become one of the greatest insults in the industry. Not one wrestler will screw up a move or sequence ever again. I don't blame them beacuse if they do, they will forever be singled out as the guy who has relations with temporary drinking apparatuses that are also males.
"That's-a good-a pizza pie!"
This is a chant not only complimentary to those of the Italian persuasion, but the inventor of pizza too... good ol' Nathaniel Pizza. Sure, you may think the chant is silly now, but you'll be in for a surprise when WWE introduces a wrestler with a Pizza Hut gimmick. His weapon? Those miniature, white tables you get with a large pepperoni. Recently, I hit an enemy of mine with one of those tables. In about five years, he's in for some type of discomfort.
"Lita is a hooooooooooooo(mebody)!"
WWE fans all around this here globe are aware of the fact that Lita enjoys many a "Sky Captain" in her "World of Tomorrow". I was just as amazed as you when I found out that she wasn't the purest of the pure. In fact, when I first heard the news, I said to myself, "Wow, that's amazing. My reaction is one of great amazement." In the professional world of wrestling, I am always shocked and appalled when I gain knowledge of seedy doings within the confines of the business. "This is a gentleman's sport," I say with gusto while I spread fine caviar on my Lunchables snack pack crackers.
Truthfully, I don't want to hear who dabbled with whom in the thorny thicket of pleasure. Wrestling insiders should tell me something useful about a personality instead. For example, just the other day, an unnamed source told me that Lita does not like to go out very much. When it comes down to it, she'd rather stay at home on a Saturday night and read a good book than partake in the excitement of wild weekend parties. She's a homebody and the world has to be aware of the fact; now, that's something to ridicule her about. Forget about that Edge stuff. So, she likes to stay indoors? Jinkies. What an indoor whore.
"(Let's get ready to) cross stitch!"
Those lovable old scamps Triple H and Shawn Michaels collectively reference their crotchal and stomachal areas with swift, chopped, mirrored hand movements in reaction to adversaries they deem as inferior or flawed. If you want to be like D-Generation X and join in on their shenanigans, that's fine, but there are better alternatives out there to show your rebellion. Fans can prove their anti-authoritative nature by taking out their sewing equipment to embroider nasty sayings on neckerchiefs as gifts for hated relatives and friends. In my opinion, the ultimate diss one human being can shell out to another is the gift of well-crafted, foul-mouthed neck garments.
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