Like the Walt Disney Company, I keep all of my classic works in a vault, only to present them back to the public when I want to make a whole lot of scratch. The articles I somehow do not finish also end up in the vault; I expect them to finish themselves by association of completed works.
I know there are those who want to see these incomplete pieces in their true from, but I am hesitant to unveil them to fans for I know my audience will greatly criticize and tear them apart, somewhat due to their briefness. You see, my articles are like my children... and these unfinished articles are the children I mistakenly left at the mall. I need to protect them.
This week, I am only releasing these half-works to the masses so they may gain the morsels of attention and love they rightfully deserve. Are the following articles not complete? Yes. Will they have an ending? No. Will I make up an ending on the spot? Probably not, but that should not stop you from indulging in the remnants of what was to-be.
Pay-Per-View Naming Bonanza
I am a huge fan of Pay-Per-Views. If anything, I deem them as The Events Where Wrestlers Try. When you watch RAW or Smackdown or ECW, the matches will usually be decent but not particularly great. On the other hand, when you view a Pay-Per-View, the match quality is often through the roof. I recall a time when Stevie Richards faced Tyson Tomko and the viewing audience paid forty bucks for it. After the match, the world was a much better and beautiful place.
What would happen if WWE Pay-Per-Views underwent a massive reconstruction? Let's find out through partial discovery.
The rumble will be changed a the 30-man over-the-top-rope battle royal to a solemn time to remember the remarkable individual known as Barney Rubble, who recently passed away to the ink shortage of 1965, which left traditional animators no choice but to discontinue drawing him. The winner of this moment of silence will be given the Rubble name and find out deep family secrets that Fred Flinstone's best friend refused to mention; one those secrets was that Bam Bam Rubble became a strong young lad due consumption of copious amounts of steroids (Betty hid in his strained peas). Pebbles told him to stop, but he desperately wanted to keep his spot as the main event baby in the Rubble household.
The winner of this prayer will eat Fruity or Cocoa Pebbles at Wrestlemania.
Traditionally, Backlash is the forgotten Pay-Per-View or our days, chock-full of Wrestlemania rematches and forgettable angles, but not anymore.
The new Backlash entrance set will consist of massive sculptures of Hunter Hearst Helmsley performing altruistic deeds for others. On the left side of the entrance, he will be captured gently petting a puppy while adorned with a fancy cardigan. On the right side, he will be preparing a pancake breakfast with syrup smiles for the homeless.
The theme song to this event will be a little ditty entitled "Why Can't We Be Friends?" performed by Triple H himself... on the triangle.
The entire makings of the set will be blown up pictures of Vince staring at the viewer, doe-eyed and lovestruck. In various scenes plastered over the Titantron screens, he will present the viewers with a box of chocolate and a Hallmark card featuring a picture of a rose on it. Quite possibly, he will wear a heart-shaped costume and serenade millions of fickle wrestling fans with passionate ballads from under their wrestling fan balcony. Furthermore, the WWE crew will make the following possible: pyro will emerge from his grapefruits, made of solid steel and positioned at the front of the set, every time a spectator mentions his name.
In all Survivor Series elimination matches, all competitors must be dressed either as a pirate and or own a parrot. In the event that they cannot fulfill these duties, they will be sent back down to Ohio Pirate Wrestling to further learn about and improve on their craft.
Other rejected names for this event included Scurvy Series and Survivor Seaweed (underwater theme with the WWE ring half-submerged in saltwater).
This new incarnation consists of one of WCW's most American-y events transformed into the one Pay-Per-View nobody liked. You see, I loved Bash at the Beach because, hey, there's a beach chair and sand indoors. Also, I adored Spring Stampede since I often envisioned Ric Flair walking past the barnyard set-up, looking at a cow, then going "MOOOOOOO!"
Uncensored was a different story. As far as the set for the event was concerned, it was the most unimaginative entrance I have ever seen:
Friend: "Well, that Uncensored logo is pretty good. It's like the logo was made by a man who only knew how to write letters in ransom note form."
Me: "Pass."
How will I improve Uncensored? Well, how about dressing up the entranceway with something every man, woman, and child can love? Yeah, I'm talking about puffy stickers with googly eyes.
When Carlito debuted for World Wrestling Entertainment, he hit the ground running (and sprinting). He defeated John Cena to capture the United States Championship in his debut match. He shocked the Smackdown crowd stole Cena's padlock chain as a souvenir for his momumental victory.
His arrival to RAW was similarly impactful, winning the Intercontintenal Championship from Good Ol' Shelty himself Shelton Benjamin. Not only were his title victories remarkable, but the way in which he attained the straps was significant as well. Back then, Carlito was the man without a finishing move, unless you counted the roll-up as a finisher. He didn't do much in the ring, except run ropes really slowly and spitefully spit apple chunks in people's faces as if apples murdered his entire family, yet that was the greatness of heel Carlito. He managed to do a lot through doing very little.
Today, his newfound, on-air relationship with wrestling legend Ric Flair leaves a lot of interesting questions left to be answered. Will this friendship lead to the return of an entertaining character who once had Caribbean Cool in his name, or is he stuck in a vicious cycle of having unncessary romantic storylines with divas who have little purpose on television as flips a bunch of times in the air to execute a knee drop?
Whatever may come of one Carlito, this is my tribute to the man he once was and one day could be again. What better way to learn how to be cool than learn from the master himself? Online courses from DeVry would not suffice this time. This was (the start) of my solution:
As a well respected and sexually attractive reporter constantly asked to be involved in eight-and-a-half-ways (it's complicated, but to simplify, an eight-and-a-half-way means that one member of the group has a chosen half of their body perched out of a window while the deed is taking place), I have had the privilege of traveling to a lot of unique places. Visiting such exotic locales as Outside and Somewhere Over There allowed me to meet some interesting people in the world of sports entertainment. So, when I heard Carlito Caribbean Cool was opening a School For The Cool, I knew I had to get the scoop. What better way to gain knowledge about this intriguing endeavor than to experience it for myself?
With pen, pad, and luggage in hand, I took a trip to San Juan, Puerto Rico to attend a three-day course. Let me just say it was a time I will never forget. I met newfound friends and acquaintances, basked in the beautiful scenery, and learned a life lesson in how to be cool as well what to do when your surroundings are not so cool. Although it was a pricey course which cost me half of my belongings, I now have more space at home for things of or relating to coolness.
The following is a brief rundown of the activities I engaged in during that time:
I was named Churro Colombian Coffee. I did not understand why he chose that moniker for me until I saw that another student was eating Mexican food and another was wearing a poncho while standing next to a donkey in front of a mountain. That's when I knew that Carlito, or Sir Cool as he wished to be called, was a very observant individual.
I must admit that I felt uneasy about the name. Since Carlito was from the Caribbean, he naturally chose to include the location in his name. What puzzled me about my name was that I was going to be billed as Colombian, even though I am nothing of the sort.
"I am appreciative of this gesture, Sir, but don't you believe I should be my true self?" I asked.
"What are you?" Carlito said.
"I was born in Canada, but my family are originally Smurfs," I proudly said.
Carlito stood there and literally burned a hole right through me with his crazy eyes. I don't know what he was about to say, but the carefree way his afro was moving in the wind was greatly ominous. Everyone in class believed something bad was going to go down, but thankfully, I was spared. It turned out that he just didn't like the cut of my jib.
Carlito swiftly left the room. I don't know whether it was the Puerto Rican weather that was getting to him, or if he felt uncomfortable around someone of cyan descent, but he could not bare another moment with me. If it was the latter, I can tell you that's not the first time I have experienced desmurfination.
Grade: Smurf+
When I finally got to the table to pick out my fruit of choice, one of the only ones left was a pineapple, so I had to take it since Carlito had dibs on apples and the overall Golden Delicious market. You know how hard biting into a pineapple is? It's like eating Cap'n Crunch, but instead of cereal, it's razorblades. The other fruit was a banana, but I politely passed on that one. Say, have you ever seen somebody eat a banana before? It's kind of difficult to watch. You see, if a woman eats a banana, the act can be borderline erotic. For your information, I find those kind of ladies intriguing and spectacular. Whenever there's a survey or quiz about male attraction to the opposite sex, I always try to work in that visual. Generally, I'm told that the traits men find most appealing in women are their eyes, followed by how impressive their model train set is, followed by their fondness for potassium. Now, I'm asking the same thing you're asking -- why is fondness for potassium rated so low?
Grade: A for A Fort (I might have misheard my grade, so it might actually be "A for Effort". With that said, I'll ignore it since there's no way you can live inside of structure made of "earnest and conscientious activity intended for accomplishment". You can't play Elegant Tea Party in there either.)
After numerous queries about hair maintenance from all students, Carlito put his apple down and walked over to his desk. He then picked up the apple, looked at it, took a bite, then set the apple back down gently. He chewed and chewed for what seemed like hours, yet didn't spit the apple in any of our faces. Well we were eternally grateful for that, he strangely kept on chewing and didn't want to swallow it. It turns out he doesn't have a digestive system. Do not tell a soul, but he is ashamed to admit his digestive fault.
Fed up with the delay, I raised my hand and finally got down to the one thing I really wanted to know. Sir Cool seemed startled, but I did not back down.
"Is that an authentic afro?" I asked.
He paused, ever so slightly, and spoke with the apple still in his mouth. I think, that on a rare, lonely, summer night, Carlito Caribbean Cool wishes that he had a digestive system. Then, he goes back and pets his luxurious afro.
"You DAMN RIGHT that's my fro," said Carlito. I did not know why he sounded like Samuel L. Jackson right then and there, but I played along since the course gave no refunds.
Later that day, I had to procure a new hairstyle. I have never had long hair, so I had to make my own afro. It was made up of tree branches I found near the water, vaseline I found on the beach, and used construction paper I found at an abandoned arts and crafts store.
Grade: D- (I'm not going to lie; I was disappointed with the mark. I think my problem was that I didn't reinforce my hairdo with glue. My afro quickly fell apart when we did the "Bridge Test". Weights of different poundage were placed on my hair until it collapsed into itself. Sadly, my hairdo could not withstand 5 pounds of force.)
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