2: Part 2

I've been Swerved.

Yes, those are the words I utter each and every Monday after I read the weekly Swerved blog postings, as I wipe up the cereal that came through my nose, onto my laptop, from laughing so hard. Many a shredded wheats have crumbled on my motherboard, and my mother, from being Swerved. So Swerved, in fact, that sometimes I feel like putting my car on "S" and driving in Swerverse.

Oh, don't spell at me, you say. But I say, I shall. You see, S is for the Songs I sing with glee after reading the Swerved and feeling proud that the Armpit was the first major forum to display Stephen's writings. T is for the Trigonometry lessons from the 11th grade that leave my brain in order to make room for more Swerved memories, which build up by the week. E is for the Equator, which is how far I would walk without water in order to read the next Swerved entry. P is for Palin, our next Vice President, who is fit to serve alongside only two men in history: John McCain and Stephen Rivera. H is for H2O, the chemical name for water, which I could not live without longer than 2 days. Meanwhile, I cannot go without the Swerved for 2 hours. E is for Equilibrium, which I lose every Monday as I wobble around my kitchen, laughing in stitches at the most recent Swerved graphics that Stephen does in Adobe Photoshop. N is for Nominate, which I want to do for Stephen Rivera, as the President of Major League Baseball, so that every man, woman, and child can salute the most recent Swerved blog posts before every ball game across the great country of America.

Put that all together and you have S-T-E-P-H-E-N. Ladies and gentlemen, I now present to you the next President of the United States of America... Stephen Rivera.

***


10 Questions: Where Are They Now?
1) Everybody wants to know "Where are they now?" Don't you? I don't believe you. Stephen, you once wrote that you would never fall off a 20-foot ladder. Instead, you said you would fall off twenty 1-foot ladders. My question is, where are those ladders now, and how did you store them so efficiently to save on space?

SR: Wait a minute. Actually, wait thirty-one minutes so the pizza is free. Why do you ask me this question? What kind of Wrestling Professor are you? A poor one? Any Wrestling Professor worth his wrestling salty salt knows the answer to this question. Because I learned to fall off twenty, one-foot ladders, I am now able to successfully fall off a twenty-foot ladder. With that said, I have utilized my newfound skills to place my twenty, one-foot ladders on a hook that hangs high above my garage. Although, whenever I try to climb the twenty-foot ladder to get to my twenty, one-foot ladders, I can't do it. Each time, I find myself climbing the twenty-foot ladder in slow motion for some reason. Then, when I get to the top, I end up batting the twenty, one-foot ladders like a cat clawing at a ball of yarn for eternity. At that altitude, you tend to lose your ability to unhook things. For precautionary purposes, don't attempt to unhook a girl's bra in Colorado.


2) We all have an accomplishment in life that we look back on as our greatest ever. For HHH, it was when he first said he was the greatest champion of all-time while keeping a straight face. For Earl Hebner, it was when he came within 99 points of becoming Mayor of Montreal. For me, it was assuming that Canada even has a Mayoral system without first checking to see if that's factually correct. For you, it was when you elicited a response from the upper management of Morphoplex following a scathing satirical piece on them. My question is, where is Morphoplex now, and what happened to the truckloads of Morphoplex you purchased (at no discount, I should add) in 2005 in order to research that article?

SR: Morphoplex is alive and well. Due to another series of commercials shot from a lakeside patio in the early 1990s, they are thriving. For your information, I still take Morphoplex. Despite what you may believe, I continue to be their biggest fan. In fact, I live in a Barbie Dream House made out of empty Morphoplex bottles. Don't even think about coming in with some Zantrex, Skipper. Today, I don't even eat food anymore. Every meal is Morphoplex. At social gatherings, sometimes I ingest Morphoplex pills with my pinky out to appear distinguished to others. In order to solve the economic crisis, why doesn't America just take Morphoplex?


3) They say that you should sleep 8 hours a night. Who is this "they" that people always talk about, and where are "they" now?

SR: According to my secret sources, "they" is Jerry Lawler, the current colour commentator for Monday Night RAW. You see, Jerry Lawler requires all teenage girls to sleep at least eight hours per night. Why? Lawler only needs seven hours, fifty-nine minutes to take away their innocence. Oh, snap it up like a hippopotamus that is doubly hungry. You can put it on the board, governor.


4) Everyone knows the legend of things science has yet to prove, such as the Loch Ness Monster, Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, Bigfoot, the Tooth Fairy, the Sandman, Adam & Eve, Adam & Steve, and that phantom WWF title change with the Rockers in 1990. But the biggest mystery still known to man is the physical locations of the mysterious faction of evildoers known as They
Now. Where are They Now?

SR: In the lost city of Atlantis, They Now was a faction comprised of the evil versions of these mythological figures. They Now had a Loch Ness Branch, a wood monster who sought revenge against the tree that betrayed him. Their Santa Claus was a man known as St. Nicholas Hogan, who rode his sporty yellow sleigh without care or concern for himself or others. The Easter Bunny was the Easter Duck, an optical and devilish illusion. Is it a bunny or is it a duck? Mine eyes do fool me, picture of a bunny or a duck. Bigfoot was WWF-era Prince Albert. The Tooth Fairy was a Gold Tooth Fairy; she made wealthy rappers with poor dental habits sad. The Sandman was ECW's Sandman, who fell asleep on a wet beach one day, covered in sand. The evil Adam & Eve wore several layers of clothing and purchased their apples online. Adam & Steve wore fashionable layers of clothing and decorated their dining room with panache. Finally, They Now's phantom WWF title change was a phantom after all. This phantom used its Zubaz-style tights to ward off vampires and attract zebras.

Two years to this day, They Now disbanded on amicable terms.


5) Solve this problem and you will be hailed by all Americans. Where are Osama bin Laden, Mullah Omar, and former WWE headliner, Mohammad Hussein? And are they all hiding together?

SR: For years, these three individuals have lived together in a Californian condo. Osama bin Laden had to pretend that he was gay to appease their nosy landlord. In the future, Osama bin Laden, Mullah Omar, and Muhammad Hassan will debut as the second coming of P.M.S. (Pretty Mean Sisters). Osama is a Tenneseean firecracker. Therefore, he will play the role of Jacqueline. Since Omar is a seductive she-devil who has made love to Goldust in the past, he will be the new Terri Runnels. Hassan will be Ryan Shamrock for he is a sultry girl-next-door. Last of all, Mohammad Hussein, Muhammad Hassan's doppelgänger, will play Meat. His trunks will look like underpants. Also, he will look excited down there.


6) Perhaps no other children's object has been so underutilized by wrestling promoters as the stuffed animal. Children love them, parents love to give them as presents, and grandparents love to give parents the money to buy them and give them as presents to the children that love them. And what better child-friendly duo to be given the stuffed animal gimmick than former road warrior tough guys, the Legion of Doom? Yes, I want you to go back to 1991 WWF, when LOD debuted in the WWF with their new mascot, Rocco. Rocco was a toy, and it made Hawk and Animal that much more manly to be seen carrying one around as they hoisted spikes on their shoulders and mean-looking face paint on their cheekbones. Where is Rocco now?

SR: The future was so bright for Rocco that he had to wear shades and an outfit tailored for a puppet. In 2008, Rocco lives in a quaint Italian village and dreams of becoming a real boy. Along the way, I hope Rocco befriends a sharp-dressed cricket who can express the feelings of a wooden being through song. That cricket won’t rub his two legs together to make music. He can “sang.” He is the Celine Dion of crickets.


7) Two heads are always better than one, unless they are attached to each other. But in ECW, 2,000 heads were always better than one. Don't believe me? Just ask Al Snow. He would come to the ring amidst a sea of bobbing Styrofoam heads, creating a visual presentation unequaled by any other person from Lima, Ohio. Lots of money was spent on those heads, while little money was spent on the heads of the people who bobbed them. My question is, where are all those Styrofoam Al Snow heads now?

SR: Soon enough, you'll know. You will all know. Any day now, the Styrofoam Al Snow heads shall rule the earth. I told you that the uprising was going to happen, but you didn't believe me. I was trying to help. I was never against you. Why did you turn your back on me? You thought I was mad, didn't you? Didn’t you. I told you that these Styrofoam heads would attain victory in World Packing Supply Material War I against the bubble wrap heads and the crinkled-up-page-of-newspaper heads. We're not safe here. We're not safe anywhere. Our possessions may be safe when we move, but what about us? The prophecy is true. From this point forward, I suggest you stop nodding your head and start shaking your head. If we start agreeing with these bobbing Styrofoam heads, we will never defeat them.


8) They once lived in Memphis, feuding with Jerry Lawler. They once managed the Original Midnight Express. They once innovated the use of a cordless phone in pro wrestling matches. They once had catfights with Missy Hyatt and Madusa. They once wrestled Jim Cornette. They once led ECW to prominence. And they once got yelled at by Brian Gewirtz and Stephanie McMahon. I speak, of course, of Paul Heyman's strands of hair. Where are they now?

SR: I bet Paul Heyman was like Marsha Brady in that he constantly combed his hair in his youth (before a picture of Davy Jones to the music of Dick Dale's "Misirlou"). About twenty years later, the excessive combing caught up with Paul's scalp. In my opinion, Paul Heyman's strands of hair should be on the second floor of the Heyman house. If they are not on the second floor, I guess Jan Heyman took them and made herself a long, flowing wig. You know how Jan can be. That family never pays enough attention to Jan. The maid doesn’t care for her either.


9) They were just here, I swear. June of 2007, in fact, is when everyone last saw them. They were large, prominent, and glistening under the lights and swimming in Baby Oil. They bulged, popped, and got hard with the just a little push. Get your mind out of the gutter. I speak, of course, of all the gigantic muscles that once adorned the skeletons and tendons of WWE's finest superstars. They've vanished, having been replaced by smaller (but still hard and toned) ones. Stephen, you gotta know... where are those muscles now?

SR: The muscles are on a extended, paid vacation. In WWE, I attribute the loss of muscles with the loss of Skittles. In particular, Jim Ross is rather upset at the lack of fruitiness in the company. In bodybuilding circles, Skittles are the only steroid. Tropical Skittles give you muscle mass. Sour Skittles give you muscle definition. Wrestlers can't bulk up with Jolly Ranchers. They want to lick those rainbows. Who doesn't want to lick some spectral colours?


10) This last question has been pondered by man since 2001. They were once everywhere, filling bingo halls and stadiums, topless bars and strip joints, gas stations and arcades, and lonely rooms hooked up to dial-up modems. They posted in message boards, kept hookers in business, and swarmed around TV sets every Monday night. They got tattoos, never read books, and chanted "E-C-W" whenever anyone did anything that looked like it took no talent to do. They smoked, drank, and inhaled. They clicked, right-clicked, and downloaded. They even hated stereotypical descriptions like the ones I just gave. Stephen, they're wrestling fans, and they're gone. Please tell me, and tell the world, where are they now?

SR: Currently, the wrestling industry has one fan. This individual became the last fan standing after he beat the other wrestling fans in a game of Talk to a Woman Without Messing Yourself. For the win, he closed his eyes and pretended that he was talking to a wall poster.

With this knowledge, I strive to appeal to this one fan. His name is Jonas. He is forty-two years old and works under a bridge. His choice of cologne is a charming mixture of Raid and flop sweat. He is afraid of large crowds and bears with hats. Every night, I walk over to an open window and sing sweet lullabies to him. "You're not enough for me. Just another man in love with me. Gotta open up your eyes and see. You're not enough for me," I softly croon as he slumbers in his race car bed. What can I say? The dude digs Michelle McCool's theme. Whatever Jonas wants, Jonas gets.