When I'm not doing hard drugs (evaporated milk straight from the can), I like to think back on my life so far. In my humble opinion, I've had an exhilarating three years of living. While other three year olds are busy messing their pants and projectile vomiting at one another, this three-year-old continues to make wrestling fans around the world laugh and think. One day, I strive to become a worldwide celebrity so everyone will be forced to care about what I have to say. Now, you may wonder why I'm calling myself three years old when I'm obviously old enough to cut to my own steak, but you should be aware that I am a professional wrestling analyst going on three years running. If you actually believe that a three-year-old can be as hilarious as yours falsely, you have another thing coming. After that thing comes, you have yet another thing coming. In conclusion, you have countless things coming in your general direction. Be prepared, beware, and be aware.
This week on The Swerved, I'd like to take a moment to reflect on Randy Orton. Today, the former WWE Champion is an established RAW superstar who can't stop losing to Triple and all of his Hs. Then again, back in October 2005, Randall was going ballistic in an entertaining way on World Wrestling Federation and Entertainment legends. When he spit on Harley Race, I said, "Yeah, take that, Harley Race. How dare you not enjoy the feeling of saliva on your face." When Randy took out Sergeant Slaughter, I said, "Yeah, take that, Sergeant Slaughter. Kicking your ass is half the battle." When Orton took out Dallas Mavericks owner Mark Cuban, I said, "Yeah, take that, Mark Cuban. I knew a guy named Mark once. He made me watch Soccer Dog: The Movie. He sucked." For years, Randy Orton killed legends. Well, he killed legends in a figurative sense. The legends got up afterwards without significant injury or bruising. They probably waved to the fans too, which made me kind of sad because I thought killing legends meant actually committing homicide on middle-aged men with bum knees. Nevertheless, Randy temporarily harmed some old guys. He temporarily harmed some old guys like what.
Before I go off on a slight tangent, let us bare witness to Randy Orton's Legend Hit List for the second time. Are you on it? Are you friends on it? Is your grandmother on it? No, of course not. None of you would ever be on Randy Orton's Legend Hit List. What are you thinking? For one, you're not important. For two, what did your grandmother ever do? Knit? Bake cookies? Knit cookies? Big dealio.
WWE's Randy Orton has accumulated quite an impressive number of accomplishments. He was one of the longest reigning Intercontinental title holders of the modern day. He was the youngest World Heavyweight Champion in WWE history. Most of all, he has dominated professional wrestling as we know it, RKOing such individuals as "The Hardcore Legend" Mick Foley, Jake "The Snake" Roberts, "The Heartbreak Kid" Shawn Michaels, and "WWE Diva" Stacy Keibler. Hated by few, loved by most, and talked about by all, Randy Orton has done things that someone twice his age could only dream about. A normal man would have already hung up his wrestling boots after such an illustrious career, but Randy is no such man.
(Whether you believe me or not, Stacy Kiebler is a WWE legend. She may have done nothing in World Wrestling Entertainment except show her ass a bunch of times to the delight of Jerry Lawler, but that's pretty legendary if you ask me. Plus, she was in Pita Thins commercials with George Hamilton, a man whose skin is made out of a combination of leather and beef jerky. Stacy Kiebler is a legend period. You can put it on the board, Torrie Wilson.)
So, what is next for Randy Orton? Once he finishes off the Undertaker, I know for a fact that he is not done "legend killing".
I have recently obtained an exclusive that every website and publication in North America has been clamouring for. For the few of you who do not understand what I am referring to, I will explain.
With the help of various unnamed sources, I have in my possession Randy Orton's Official Legend Hit List. I cannot tell you how or when I received it, but I have it with me in perfect condition. The list is a laminated 8 1/2 x 11 piece of white paper encased in a thin silver briefcase. Although I cannot present the actual document physically, I will run down the list with intricate detail.
The immortal Hulk Hogan is quite possibly the biggest icon in the history of professional wrestling. As a multiple-time world champion, an illustrious action film star, and a reality television darling, he has dished out big boots and leg drops to the biggest names in entertainment.
That is, except The Legend Killer. What Hogan doesn't realize is that Randy Orton is coming after him.
As Hogan is about to wave goodbye to the wrestling business at the age of 157, Randy Orton will show up and RKO the Hulkster at his small retirement party of 10,000 people and 20,000 pets. This event should confuse the attendees and create quite the commotion. Most of that commotion will be due to Brooke Hogan as people will point in her direction and murmur, "She looks a little old for her age," but the rest will be concerned for Hulk Hogan's safety.
(Poor Hulk Hogan. As of this writing, American Gladiators is struggling in the ratings. His marriage with Hollywood Linda Hogan is finished because Hulk got frisky with a friend of Brooke who looks a lot like Brooke with sunglasses. Speaking of Brooke, his daughter's music career is the opposite of successful. Worst of all, his son Nick is behind bars for doing very bad things with a motor vehicle. I would feel bad for Hulk Hogan, but I can't. American Gladiators needs more Altasphere. Linda Hogan has too many pets and doesn't know how to clean her own house. As red-blooded males, we're supposed to think Brooke Hogan is attractive even though she is bland. Finally, Nick Hogan needs to be taught a lesson for being such an arrogant butt. Sorry, brother. At least you have the friendship of Brian Knobbs. I'm jealous.)
Will he be able to retire peacefully after this dastardly act? The outcome is not certain. Although, if Hogan ignores this warning and does not act soon, he'll surely end up with a cramped condominium at the edge of RKO Boulevard on Bloody Canvas Road with a terrible view of the ocean. How will he be able to live in a place with only one bathroom and cold running water? If he wants to have hot chocolate for brunch, he's going to have to heat it on the stove. Plus, the skylight is right above the shower and who knows whom or what is going to spy on him and acrylic paint his naked likeness for the rest of the world to see? To add insult to injury, there isn't even a Denny's in the area. There will be no Grand Slam breakfast for Hulkamania.
Alas, that's what happens when you deal with "The Legend Killer".
The Smackdown Fist has stood high and mighty over adoring WWE crowds for several years. Like an iron ruler of professional wrestling, The Fist has witnessed everything there is to witness on UPN. The Fist has seen champions come and go and legends created before its very eyes.
(The Smackdown Fist doesn't have eyes because it's a fist. Although, The Smackdown Fist is a giant fist. I don't know what giant fists are like for I don't know them personally. If they have eyes, disregard this statement.)
Soon enough, it will see another in Randy Orton.
During a Tuesday television taping, The Legend Killer will appear unannounced in a fire truck. With the help of select firefighters held at gunpoint, he will park the vehicle at the Smackdown entrance and scale a massive ladder. Finally meeting The Fist at an appropriate level, he will RKO the hand of the metallic giant who has been stuck in the World Wrestling Entertainment Smackdown set the entire time. As the creature falls to its doom, Orton will laugh at its expense. In the end, "Smackdown!" is left with no entranceway and is forced to change its name to "Smackdown?"
(I don't see the need to add an exclamation point to "Smackdown!" I know that WWE wishes to place added emphasis on a phrase which describes the act of smacking objects and individuals in a downwards motion, but I already believe that smacking things downwards is cool beans. Take it easy, World Wrestling Entertainment. I see what you're getting at. You don't need to tell me twice or thrice. You sound pretty insecure when you say, "Smackdown!” You sound like Triple H. Yes, I got you for the first time ever, Hunter.)
The toughest S.O.B. in W.W.E. may be the most popular wrestler of the past decade, but he has never met his ultimate match... until now. He may have been on Nash Bridges, but a certain someone does not like Don Johnson one bit. Also, he thinks Cheech Marin is only okay.
(As actors, Don Johnson and Cheech Marin's acting careers bring together my two most hated groups: detectives who wear pastel clothing and people who smoke the marijuana cigarettes for recreational purposes only. If you made someone who smokes the marijuana cigarettes for recreational purposes only into a detective and put him or her in pastel clothing, I would probably throw my armoured truck at that person. That person is not going after my thin silver briefcase, but I didn't learn to throw armoured trucks for nothing.)
During a quiet brunch at his home, Stone Cold will head to his fridge for a libation to quench his thirst. He will drink a can of Miller Lite beer, but unbeknownst to him, the beer will not be beer at all.
Days prior to the refrigerator visit, Randy Orton would have broken into Steve Austin's home and replaced his beer with non-lite poison. After a few moments, Steve will notice this predicament, then will panic as plates and utensils fly everywhere. At the sink, Steve will grab a bunch of cups from a nearby cabinet and fill them up with water. He will douse himself with glass after glass, though will not realize until later that he just drank and poured tap poison all over himself.
(Shame on you, Steve Austin. Brita-filtered poison is way more refreshing than tap poison. According to a report I saw on NBC Dateline, tap poison contains traces of gross bacteria and raw sewage. That's sick. Also, NBC Dateline caught tap poison trying to do it with an underaged girl. You see, tap poison set up a meeting with the underaged girl over an online chat, but the girl totally wasn't thirteen. When tap poison arrived at the girl's house, the girl said that she would be back after she put away her laundry, even though thirteen-year-old girls never do the laundry. At the end of the segment, tap poison took off his pants and waited for her, but then Chris Hansen appeared. Shame on you again, Steve Austin.)
Steve will yank a cell phone from his pocket in desperation, but will drop it on the floor in shock. He will see that every button on the phone is covered in poison.
Next, he will stumble out of his front door into his Stone Cold Truck to drive himself to the hospital, but as he goes to start the car, the keys are made of poison. Randy Orton will show up out of nowhere and RKO yet another legend. This time, the RKO will be made out of... beer. Orton 3:16 says the irony will kill Stone Cold Steve Austin on the spot.
(Randy Orton is no fool. He doesn't even drink poison; he prefers Sierra Mist. Shame on you for a third time, Steve Austin. You and your poison. How do you like being not alive? You're going to be not alive for a while.)
The cast of Bob Orton, Jr. is by far the most infamous bandage-related accoutrement ever to be associated with wrestling.
(Wait a second, self from three years ago. Hold the phone by the receiver, hold the phone cord if the phone is not cordless, hold the phone base, and hold the rotary dial if you are a middle-class Englishman from the late 19th to early 20th century. Cowboy Bob Orton's Cast is not the most infamous bandage-related accoutrement in professional wrestling. How about Diamond Dallas Page's rib tape that protected his stomach for some reason? What about Andy Kaufman's neck brace? What about the Yeti from WCW? Sadly, I never witnessed the Yeti wrestle. I am ashamed.)
With that said, Randy Orton knows this fact and wishes to put an end to this legend post haste. While he does have sympathy for his father, he shows no remorse for plaster casts of any size, age, background, or ethnicity.
Randy will encase himself in a cast, leaving only small openings for his mouth and nose so he does not suffocate. As he “outcasts” his father's cast, he will hurl himself towards the used cast placed on the Orton family mantle and shatter it into shards. An RKO for good measure will turn the shards into fine sand. Randy will use this material to build a sandbox. Then, he will proceed to urinate in the box before inviting the neighbourhood kids for a play date. Little Esmerelda won't know what's coming.
(Don't do it, little Esmerelda. Don't give Randy Orton the satisfaction. Don't go into the pee box. You have so much promise. You can go places in life. Don't go in the pee box. You have a family that loves you and cares for you. You can live off of your shares in Google, little Esmerelda. You just bought your white sundress. Your white sundress was on sale, remember? You were content with that purchase. Don't go in the pee box.)
Todd Grisham is legendary to WWE fans all over the world. They know his name, they have his merchandise, and they hold up "Toddy 2 Naughty" signs at every WWE event. On the other hand, Randy Orton is sick and tired of Grisham's fame and does not want his career to flourish.
(If you have been following The Swerved lately, you witnessed Todd Grisham become a pope. You saw it at here first in my imaginary breaking news centre when black smoke billowed to the sky from the chimneys of WWE Headquarters in Stamford, Connecticut. To me, Pope Todd Grisham is the lighthouse in the midst of the dark seas. I don't need a therapist. I don't need a friend. I just need Pope Todd Grisham's advice. Let Pope Todd Grisham enrich your existence and you can be happy too.)
During Sunday Night Heat, “The Legend Killer” will show up out of nowhere and attack Todd Grisham. Randy will strike Todd in the glasses with a returning Ivory, who will say something borderline annoying and uncomfortably flirty as she is thrown like a dart toward Todd's face. After an RKO on the Heat announce table, he'll whisper, "This has been quite the WWE Experience," and pose for the crowd. Next, he will roll Todd Grisham on a silver platter and place a stainless steel cover over his body. He will do this act just so he can quip "He Got Served" at passersby.
(I miss Pope Todd Grisham and Ivory on the WWE Experience. When I say that I miss Pope Todd Grisham and Ivory on the WWE Experience, I actually mean that I don't want to see Pope Todd Grisham and Ivory on the WWE Experience in the near to distant future. I'm not one to observe Pope Todd Grisham and Ivory yakking it up in Central Park next to a bunch of ducks in a pond. Yet, I wouldn't mind seeing Pope Todd Grisham on "Jeopardy!" I bet his category of choice would be "Popepourri," if you know what I'm saying. Punning, punning as fast we can. I really hope you make it. Do you think we'll make it? We're punning, keep holding my hand. It's so we don't get separated.)
Years later, Orton will be tried for capital punishment in a court of law, but will be found innocent and hilarious. Randy will run out of the courthouse and click his heels in celebration. He will stay in mid-air for a few seconds to the astonishment of those around him.
(Oh, Randy. What a lovable scamp. After a long day of RKOing legendary dudes and ladies, he probably loves to go on zany adventures and find new friends in his oversized hat and sweater. He's the Fievel Mousekewitz of WWE, no doubt.)
To celebrate, Randy will cross the road and RKO a turkey on his way to the other side. Why? Randy is no chicken.
That's all for now. Keep it here for the second and final installment of Randy Orton's Legend Hit List.
Q: Did you know that Randy Orton can walk on water, and after he walks on that water, the water turns into diamonds?
A: Okay, now you're just talking crazy.
(Stay where you stand, self. That's not crazy talk. How do you/I know that it isn't crazy talk? Pope Todd Grisham declares that the statement is true. Up, up, and away in your Popecopter, Pope Todd Grisham. The planet requires your assistance.)
No comments:
Post a Comment