Ted DiBiase's abrupt transformation into the next incarnation of "The Million Dollar Man" is rather exciting. In professional wrestling, I look forward to two things and two things only. First of all, I enjoy compelling storylines that lead to fast-paced, dramatic, and decisive matches. Secondly, I love it when trust funds kick in after WrestleMania. An average fan decorates his room in wrestling memorabilia. As a professional wrestling analyst, my entire palace is covered in iconic photos depicting trust funds kicking in after WrestleMania.
I'm not entirely sure why I'm enthralled by this particular aspect of wrestling. If I had to guess, I would say that it might have something to do with my own trust fund. Unfortunately, my trust fund was supposed to kick in after Judgment Day. Thanks to World Wrestling Entertainment, I will never know what it's like to be like Ted DiBiase. Therefore, I have no choice but to live vicariously in his shoes. I think his shoes feel uncomfortable yet rich, similar to a pimp coat made out of jagged diamonds.
I know what you're thinking — Ted DiBiase is okay and all, but wouldn't you rather be someone better? I disagree, your thoughts. Ever since Ted adopted his new identity, I have tried to figure out how to model my own life after him. After consulting my team of researchers and scientists, I think I have found a way. Sometimes, you have to spend money to get money suddenly handed to you by a WWE writing team. Cody Rhodes never learned this lesson, which is why he can't afford knee pads and a second elbow pad. Randy Orton sort of learned this lesson until he visited a cheap tattoo parlour. Now, the ink has run all over his arms. That slow-drying ink is no good.
The road to becoming "The Million Dollar Son" is an arduous one, full of potholes, plot holes, cracks, forks, and a nonsensical, one-time appearance from your brother Brett. To take the road more travelled is safe, but to take Ted's route will allow me to see my brother Brett for once. We lost touch over the years. What happened, you ask? Life happened.
Ted DiBiase Sr's generous treatment of his son proves that money can buy you love and happiness. In this world of wrestling, you need a million dollar father in order to become a quality, million dollar son. If your father has a four-figure salary, ask him to take a second, third, and fourth job to bring his income up a few more figures. If your father has a five-figure salary, ask him to engage in some narcotrafficking on the side to get himself over the six-figure hump. He must mingle with the shady Colombians and attend Colombian Tupperware parties when invited. He must buy or rent a white suit, complete with dress shirt featuring an abnormally large and wide collar.
For those of you with a father who refuses to do these things for you, I'm sorry. He doesn't love you. For those of you with a father who actually wants to help, get him working. You're got no work to do.
You took your father's money, wisely using a portion of it to begin production on a series of WWE films entitled The Marina. You cast yourself in the title role, playing a harbour trying to save a kidnapped yacht from the evil Indonesian Yacht Racing Team. Critics are ready to praise your excellent docking skills, but is that enough? Absolutely not. Your father's money can only take you so far. You will need your father's name to match and surpass his achievements. As Ted DiBiase once said, he is not his father's son. Ted's father is his son's father. His mother remains the same person. Their dining room has turned into a second living room, though.
With your new persona, you're not a junior anymore. Junior stands for second. Junior means inferior. You are the hybrid car to your father's gas-powered sedan. By taking out the junior from your name, everybody will automatically forget about your dad. That's a rule. Ever since Ted DiBiase came into WWE, I forgot who his father was. For a second, I thought that I was his father, but Maury sent me the results a few moments later. I was relieved, yet somewhat disappointed. Can I still love him as if he were my own? I need some time to think.
Dear average individual living on Earth; you are not the son of Ted DiBiase, Sr. I thought you knew that, but there you go. While your average father might be a nice person, he most likely does not have any Million Dollar Belts lying around the house. If he doesn’t have one, you will need to get your own. Please keep in mind that stealing the DiBiase family’s Million Dollar Belt will not do the trick. You must acquire that belt the old fashioned way. Without hesitation, you must fight through the money ranks until you beat the richest man in the world in a sanctioned championship match.
Because you are just starting out, you will start at the bottom of the card, battling for the Ten Dollar Belt against a seven-year-old girl selling lemonade. Once you climb that mountain, you must win the One-Hundred-Dollar Championship against a twelve-year-old boy with a weekday newspaper route. As you move up the ranks, Richie Rich will be training and waiting for you in Richville, USA. The ladder to wealth consists of rung after run of beating up innocent children. Do what you have to do to get the job done.
While the sensitive people of WWE understand that the dynamic between "The Million Dollar Man" Ted DiBiase and his servant Virgil was less than politically correct, they also want you to get the most important message about this partnership. Black guys are helpful, which isn't a racist claim to say at all. In fact, it is rather complimentary. Are you telling WWE that black guys aren't helpful? You monster. I bet you never watched The Mighty Ducks. Terry and Jesse Hall were the playmakers to Guy Germaine’s sniper.
In case that the actual Virgil/Vincent/Shane/Curly Bill/Mike Jones has prior engagements, be active and look around your local area for a possible candidate. The next time you come across a large, African-American male, offer him money to run various, demeaning errands for you. If he agrees to help you, I offer you congratulations. You have found yourself a Virgil. If he kills you, I guess you'll have to come back to life somehow and try again. Good luck.
Once in a while, Puerto Rican brothers are going to require compensation for their dirty work. For the purpose of discretion, you must determine how to compensate them in public without showing the world how much money you truly have. Being that you are a millionaire, you should be able to afford a few, sturdy containment devices, which will discreetly contain this form of compensation. When life gives you Carlito and Primo, you hand them envelopes.
These envelopes do not even have to contain dollar bills or coins. The shapes seen within the envelopes lead me to believe that Ted didn't give the Brothers Colon any money whatsoever. In my opinion, I think Ted satisfied Carlito's craving for apples by giving him an envelope of apple sauce. Also, Ted fulfilled Primo's dream of sporting a grown-up facial by buying Mike Knox's beard before Mike went out the door. Just because you're rich doesn't mean everybody wants your money. Now and again, they will seek envelope sauce and hair in a paper pocket. Pay them back right.
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