Yesterday is history, like the History Channel. Tomorrow is a mystery, like Evolution. And today? Well, today is a gift. That is why on this day, I am legally obligated to hand out Christmas presents to the superstars of World Wrestling Entertainment. Some of them deserve what they are about to receive, while others deserve more. If I could, I would do anything for the selfless men and women who rock my wrestling world on the fortnightly. I would even say positive things about them.
This December, I'm in a gift-giving mood. Apparently, this mood is appropriate for the current time of year. I see people give gifts a lot to other people, and I don't want to be left out. If WWE wants to give me tables, ladders, and chairs, I want to return the favour with hugs, fist bumps, and tenderness. Since the younger wrestling fans do not have the means to show their gratitude, I shall give back on their behalf. Let me use my money, rather than their parents' money. I'd like to give their parents a break for a change. Now, they can finally buy gas for their car.
As the bigger stars of the promotion get gifts aplenty from everyone they meet, the up-and-comers are often overlooked. Last year, Triple H got his own Scandinavian country for Christmas. Meanwhile, the less important individuals had to live in his country. Sometimes, life isn't fair, but when I'm involved, everybody gets what they want. Consider me to be the less sensual and more rugged version of Santa Claus.
On the first day of Christmas, wrestling's greatest professional wrestling analyst gave to you a reason to exist. On the second day of Christmas, wrestling's greatest professional wrestling analyst stopped giving you things. Just be content with what I gave you. Don't be greedy, son.
For all the greatness you bring to Mike Knox, I shall grant your wish, Mike Knox's Beard. This month, I am building your mate from donated beard hair. Like you, your mate will be long, ratty, and luxurious. After I visit an arts and crafts store, I shall buy two googly eyes with girly eyelashes and place them on this new beard. On December 25th, I will introduce you to your new love.
At that moment, I see no need to attach yourself to Mike Knox any longer. By Christmas Day, you will find your true purpose in life. Gain your freedom, Mike Knox's Beard. Get on that love boat to New York City and achieve the American Dream. You will have your helpings of freedom, Mike Knox's beard. Sweet, sweet freedom. Marry that girl beard and raise a few whiskers to carry on your legacy.
When it comes to RAW Guest Hosts, forget about Jesse Ventura and Bob Barker. Simply put, you were ballin’, Verne Troyer. Because you sat on a chair for most of your hosting stint, I am already pumped up for the chair portion of the TLC Pay-Per-View. Man, oh, man. I hope to see a bunch of people sitting on chairs at the Pay-Per-View. I saw them sitting on chairs last Monday night, but this time, I must pay for it.
Back to your performance. You could have worked in some Austin Powers references for cheap laughs from the time machine of laughter, but you were better than that. You could have brought your scooter and urinated in the corner of the arena, but you chose to be classy. Good move, Verne Troyer. Good move. However the internet wrestling fans may see it, I thought you did an excellent job. For your hard work, I shall make work easier for you.
During that segment with The Big Show and Chris Jericho, I saw how you used that storage trunk to help you stand. You can't get those types of things past me for I have a colour television. Seeing your discomfort, I have chosen to send your gift via express mail. Before Christmas, you shall receive a second storage trunk to help you stand completely straight. No more leaning to one side like the pimp we all know you are. It's a hard-knock life for tiny people who do not have two storage trunks at the ready. You are welcome.
The last time I saw you, I witnessed an epic moment. When The Miz claimed that you had no personality, I wondered how The World's Strongest Man would respond. Would you continue to store water in your hair and beard, or would you stand up and show the world what skills you had to offer? In the end, you gave me a dose of reality. I got up on my feet. You saw me. I checked this out. In order to shut Mike Mizanin up, you threw down some rhymes. You were rapping, alright. Mark Henry was not singing, but was doing a rap. You were really doing that rap as if you were a rapper. You were rapping. As I heard your rap, I purchased my Christmas present for you. This December, enjoy this box of rhythm. Every box of rhythm begins with Kay.
Dearest weird mask guy on ECW; congratulations on having the second best mask on WWE television today. With Rey Mysterio at a distant third, you are only behind that villain from The Marine 2, who sports a chocolate mask. You'll get that top spot soon enough, though.
From this distance, I am unable to taste your mask. Is your mask made out of chocolate, or some other edible cocoa treat? If you are unwilling to answer, I will give you the benefit of the doubt.
Relating to the topic of you, Paul Burchill's exit and your entrance into ECW seems mighty coincidental. It’s as if you two are the same person. Then again, I don't think that's possible because you wear a mask and he doesn't. Let me conduct a little experiment here. For Christmas, you will receive the Pirates of the Caribbean trilogy on Blu-ray. If you get excited, I’m pretty sure you’re Burchill.
Since coming to the WWE flagship, you two have successfully cemented yourselves as the official arm candy of RAW Guest Hosts for the next decade. Just when I think that one piece of arm candy is enough, I look on the other arm of a RAW Guest Host and feast my eyes on a sweet surprise. Once Vince McMahon learns that he can create his own set of sexy twins by buying a mirror and placing it in front of Michael Cole, your days are numbered. Until then, I thought I'd give you your present.
Linking your arm to another guy's arm must make you feel left out. After all, WWE never gives you arm candy... until now. For Christmas, enjoy my gift to you: triplets. The other day, I went into the cloning machine and made two copies of myself. Now, your arms will be decorated with the best man-candy of all. I was about to give you twin vampires, but I didn't have enough money. My apologies, Bella and Bella. I'm not made out of money. I'm made out of flesh, intestines, old car parts, and blood and stuff. Get your own vampires. We're living in a recession.
As I saw you debut on Friday Night Smackdown no more than two weeks ago, I felt an instant connection. Maybe it was the way you were wearing your skull cap, or the way you stared into the nothingness, but I felt it. Truly, I was beginning to think that we've met before. The moment I saw your face, a sense of intense familiarity washed over me. You may not know who I am, though I believe that I've known you all along. I have zero knowledge of your likes and dislikes, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't get a gift.
For one Luke Gallows, I shall cook a wondrous feast of biscuits and gravy. You will know when it is done when I ring this timekeeper's bell. Dry cakes and meat juices made me a male.
In my eyes, no gift can ever match the gift you found with Rosa Mendes: true love. No matter how many crates of tanning lotion I leave at your door, she has already made your Christmas wish come true. As a couple, I hope you two set up shop in a huge New Jersey mansion with your Guido love-children named Joey and D'Angelo Mendes-Ryder.
Without an adequate gift to buy for you, I want to give you something that I recently found. Within the next few weeks (two years in New Jersey Time), you will receive the missing leg of your wrestling tights. Enjoy the security of a complete set of tights. Security will keep your future family safe. Oh, radio. Play me every song you know by Bruce Springsteen. True, true, true.
Why so blue, Ezekiel Jackson? You may have lost your asymmetrically-jacketed friend, but you have gained a roundtable featuring Vladimir Kozlov. In my opinion, this is a fantastic trade-off. Nevertheless, I hate to see a happy-go-lucky guy like you stuck in the doldrums of despair. Therefore, I'm going to bring you some quality helpings of holiday cheer. You'll be getting a Happy Meal for Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, or Japanese Christmas.
This month at McDonald’s, girls get Barbies and boys get Hot Wheels. Since this is the season of giving, I got you covered for both, Zeke. This here is what call gift-giving. It's a combination of selflessness and tangible expressions of love and friendship.
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