WWE,
2005
Text by Sean
Carless
Warning: Sean Carless is
what *some* people might call a "drinking man".
Continuity, Consistency and Coherency may be
absent at some/all/every times. Discretion is not
only encouraged, it's allowed.
[/Batista].
He lies! He cheats! He
provides the necessary semen to father another
man's child?
It is the year 2005. The evil
Decepticons have taken back their home planet of
Cybertron. Wait. You'll have to excuse me. I was
just watching my DVD of Transformers the Movie...
Anyway, it is the year 2005.
Rey Mysterio and Eddie Guerrero have restarted
their historic rivalry. A rivalry that once saw
WCW rocked to its very core, changing how the
company viewed wrestling forever!-- until 20
minutes later when Hulk Hogan and Roddy Piper
eradicated all of that in a match so slow, that
time moved backwards, transporting Tony Schiavone,
Mike Tenay and us all back to an age when man had
yet to step from the primordial ooze and was still
basically pond scum. My point is--and yes I do
have one. I think--is that this was a ready-made
rivalry that required no bells and whistles and
gimmickry to make it more interesting. It was
simply two very talented men that hated each other
kicking the crap out of one another. One man had a
mullet the size of the famed cap worn by American
folk-hero Davy Crockett. While the other a
full-bodied purple zebra-striped bodysuit,
custom-sewed for a malnourished child's body. It
was something we could all relate to. Kind
of.
You see, Wrestling at its root is
simple. Sometimes you just need to stick two dudes
in a ring and watch them fight. That's it. No
hoopla; no ballyhoo. Just wrestling. No
fetus-cum-hands. No beer trucks filled with
sewage; no nets hanging from the ceiling filled
with shit; no urine in a teapot, or secret
enchiladas filled with diarrhea-inducing druggery.
Just plain old fashioned wrestling.
I mean, really. People didn't feel the
need to "jazz up" Steamboat and Flair by having
Naitch secretly put Viagra in Ricky's drink
backstage so he could win via count-out when the
Dragon desperately scurried from the ring to cover
his raging hard-on. It was good enough on its own.
Even without the workrate quality penis Dave
Meltzer would have no doubt given ****1/4. And
they sure didn't need to build extra tension
between Bret & Owen by showing secret footage
of Bret putting a slumbering Rocket's hand in a
glass of warm water causing the King of Harts to
fill his unitard with liquid shame. (Enough is
enough and it's time for a change of clothes!).
Sometimes two people who hate each other fighting
is GOOD ENOUGH.
This rivalry was the perfect example
of that phenomenon. But mess with it they did. And
then some.
And how pray-tell do you improve upon
a rivalry that basically started out as simple as
Eddie Guerrero is frustrated that he cannot defeat
Rey Mysterio no matter how hard he tries? Does he,
I don't know, Unmask him? End his
career? GO ALL OUT TO LEGALLY ADOPT HIS SON
AND THUS DESTROY HIS LIFE, KINDA SORTA? If you
answered that, well, not only do you get a
complimentary straight-jacket, but a well-deserved
position in WWE Creative! Welcome aboard! And
remember to keep your hands up because feces
really hurts when thrown quickly. Those monkeys
have great aim.
In any
event, our story started in early spring when
Eddie and Rey began what was a "friendly" rivalry.
As friendly as full-on kicking your friend in the
face and crashing your full bodyweight on top of
his prone body from high places could be.
Eventually, this rivalry disintegrated
into a full-on obsession for Eddie to *finally*
defeat Rey-- if only because Vince McMahon had
utilized that memory wiper from Men In Black on
him in 2000 when he first signed with the company,
completely erasing the year 1997 and all the
countless pins he already had over Rey from his
collective consciousness. Not that the poor guy
remembered '97 anyway. I know I've tried to
forget. Why
couldn't you just hang in there and try and swim a
little longer, Jack! Help WAS
coming! *Sniffle*.
From
there, in an attempt to gain the psychological
edge, Eddie began to seemingly stalk Rey's young
son, Dominick, even creepily showing up on a
Playground, wrapping his arms around the child
(Rob Feinstein was seen feverishly taking notes),
where he then promised to tell Dominick, and I
quote, "a bedtime
story". Chris Hansen was then seen
tackling Eddie into the bushes.
Eddie
& Dominick's exchange went something like
this:
Eddie: "Would you like me to tell
you a bed time
story?"
Dominick:
"Dude, I'm like nine years old."
 Eddie:
"Ahem. WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO TELL YOU A BED
TIME STORY?"
Dominick: "Ya. I guess. But
only if you're wearing pants."
Ok, it
didn't go like that. I don't remember how it went.
Something about being Gay. All I know is, at the
time, the whole thing didn't come across too well
on TV, and read like an episode of To Catch A
Predator (Which I was sad to find out wasn't about
the Alien bounty hunters but child
molesters)--something I'm sure WWE never intended.
Even if Jerry Lawler secretly wished it did. Quite
excitedly.
Thankfully, however, Pedo Bear was not
needed, because Eddie's *true intentions*
were a lot more innocent and wholesome. One week
after promising he would not reveal a secret that
would ruin Rey, he did so anyway. (THE GUY LIES
FOR A LIVING. How could Rey not see this coming?).
Turns out, Eddie secretly sired the child (trading
in his Frog-splash that night to unleash some
tadpoles, baby!) with a skanky ring-rat, and then
passed that unholy union off on Rey-Rey and wife
as a "good-will" gesture, because apparently
Mysterio was shooting blanks from his umm, West
Coast Cock, and wasn't able to start a family with
his own equipment. Or something. Poor Dominick.
Cue appropriate topical
sound-bite!
And yes, that was it. That was the
hook. Rey couldn't have children, so Eddie stepped
up. Or laid down. Or whatever. All I know is, if I
was Rey, I wouldn't have been surprised that
offspring was impossible. I mean, the dude's three
feet tall and has no pigment in his eyes. I'd
think under those circumstances it's safe to say
that a possible malfunction in the testicular
region is not too far off either. Shit, I'd check
under the house in San Diego for a Nuclear Reactor
or something.
In any event, it was a heart-breaking
moment for young Dominick; a time rife with
confusion. Confusion as to why?--at 8 years
old--he was the same height as his father. If
there was anything WWE tried to hammer home at
that moment, it was that Dominick would never look
at his father the same way again. Although, that's
probably more because Dominick doesn't know what
his dad really looks like because he's never
actually seen his face. But I digress.
It was at this point that Eddie
informed Rey that he would be taking custody of
Dominick altogether. Something that he apparently
had "every legal right" to do. Yeah. That's how
custodial law works. They hand a kid right over to
the first shirtless dude sight-unseen who was last
spotted stalking playgrounds just the week before.
As the weeks progressed, Rey was
devastated. He just would not
look upon the bright side that Christmas spending
would be significantly lighter that year. His
heart was broken. And likely took up 2/3rds of his
torso. He was after all nearly 200 pounds of solid
muscle at barely 5 feet tall.
It was at this point as
well--despite being rotten and
contemptible-- that Eddie began hearing more
and more cheers. Even more so than Rey--the
ailing father. And rightfully so, I say.
Screwing a ring-rat so you can give your best
friend a family is an admirable
trait. In fact, I always insist that my
friends take any and all children I accidentally
sire whilst nailing sleazy broads. They're just
not as magnanimous as Rey was. Come on, guys.
I'M DOING YOU A FAVOR.
GET WITH THE PROGRAM.
As more weeks passed by, Eddie's
increasingly dastardly behavior would eventually
bring upon the disdain of his own wife, Vickie,
and their two daughters, who showed up on
SmackDown to talk Eddie out of his madness. After
all, bringing Dominick home would mean that Vickie
would have to set another place at the dinner
table, and she'd be damned if she was sharing
anymore food with anyone.
Eddie however took this blatant
insubordination as ANY man accused of using a
diminutive Mexican boy for their own agenda
would-- with OUTRAGE. "Stay out of his business,"
he said. "This is his work, and this is how he
puts food on the table," he continued. The words
went right over Vickie's head, however, as she
continued her defiance, regardless. Although, in
his defense, her eyes did light up when he said
food. Maybe.
 Anyway,
to hammer home that YES, YOU SHOULD BE BOOING THIS
MAN, Eddie then forcefully grabbed Vickie and his
children by the arms and dragged them backstage,
violently forcing them into a rental car and
yelling vociferously; a tense moment that was only
broken up by wrestling's Great White Knight,
BOB HOLLY. YES. BOB HOLLY. You know, when
BOB HOLLY is your voice of reason for
even-temperament, decorum and respect, something
is REALLY wrong. The two men then began shoving
one another, and Bob pushed Eddie hard into
Vickie's car and in turn her, in a shocking
moment. Shocking because Eddie has about 20 years
in the business, and thus should have been spared
his wrath, AMIRITE? Luckily for Eddie, Vickie, and
us all, Bob further restrains himself from
unleashing the BEST DROPKICK IN THE
BUSINESS right then and there. After all,
children should not be privy to such brutality.
And Apathy.
Fast forward a month, and ultimately, Rey finally
convinced Eddie to put Dominick up at Summer Slam.
In a Ladder Match. A Ladder Match that
unfortunately did not see Dominick strapped to the
cable literally. And Eddie of
course soon agreed to this unusual stipulation,
because this is wrestling, and besides Bond
Villains, no one is stupider than wrestling heels.
Rey:
"Do you expect me to talk,
Homes?"
Eddie: "No, Esse! I expect you
to dieeeeeeee!"
It was at this
point that Child Welfare finally became involved.
YOU DON'T SAY. Apparently bartering a child's
ownership over a wrestling feud is against the law
or something, so poor Dominick was taken into
custody until the night of Summer Slam where he
would end up... with the winner? This
opens up a precedent for custody to be sure. I'm
going to challenge my next-door neighbor to a game
of horse-shoes for custody of his 17 year old
daughter and see what happens. Oh man. This
custodial business is just rife with sexy
possibilities!
Backstage,
Vickie desperately tries to talk Eddie out of the
match. "Rey is a good man," she
reiterates. Wait? He's a man? A grown man?
Seriously? And here I thought that
Case-worker woman was going to take Rey into
custody, too. "Your parents let you get those
tattoos? At 11? You're coming with me, young
man!" Vickie then told Eddie that this is not
"the real him" and that his heart is huge. I could
make a joke right now, but it's so not worth the
hate mail. Eddie however says he's going to
continue on anyway. I don't blame him. He came
here to win a small boy, and damn it, he's not
going to stop now.
Before the big
match, we received heartfelt words from Michael
Cole, designed to elicit warm feelings for
Rey-Rey's plight. Cole says that he knows what
Mysterio is going through, because he has two
adopted sons of his own. Huh. I guess it kind of
makes sense. You actually have to have sex with a
real-life woman to have children. Or at least one
that doesn't require a patch kit bi-weekly. I
heard the most action he's ever got from a woman
was a little "skull".
The match then
took place?and holy shit...it was AWESOME. It
almost made you forget that the reward was
indentured human life! ALMOST.
The big
finish--and climax to this whole sorted
debacle--saw Vickie by-gawd stampede to the ring
and TIP EDDIE OFF THE LADDER, wrapping her legs
around him like a spider-monkey, thus preventing
him from stopping Rey from regaining custody of
his child the old fashioned way-- by climbing
garage-based home improvement apparatuses. Man.
What a Judas that Vickie turned out to be! How
disheartening. I mean, if you can't trust your
own wife to support you in the legal
kidnapping of a small child for revenge purposes,
what's the point of even getting married? I'm kind
of soured on the whole institution
now.
 But
hey, yay! Happy Ending! How wholesome. Dominick
was back where he belonged! Even if he was going
home with a father with no eyes who always wears a
mask. Wait. Isn't that something that Children's
Aid worker should be looking into? But hey,
whatever. At least Dominick would finally get back
to the innocence of childhood. Innocence that
likely included going to the playground and
swinging around the equipment, kicking other
children in the face with his feet, just because.
Dad would be SO proud. And comically undersized.
 That all said, sadly,
this would be Eddie's last big feud before his
untimely death, bar a brief foray into a
homoerotic friendship with Batista, where they claimed to
be "soul mates" and then made each other laugh by
trying to poison each other's food. (I am so not
kidding.). Not exactly the way I'd like to shuffle
off this mortal coil, but hey, beggars can't be
choosers. RIP, buddy.
So, what have
we learned here today, kids? I mean, besides
judging by her current girth, that sometime
between 2005 and now, Vickie must have consumed
Dominick whole, bones and all; and that whoever
thought of this storyline should obviously be
launched into the sun if only for the safety of
future generations.
I'll tell you
what *I* learned. Rey could have saved himself a
lot trouble if A) he just allowed Eddie to pin him
in May. B) Just had Eddie steal the sperm
needed in the first place (I picture him passing a
vial of frozen seed to the doctor when caught and
then feigning unconsciousness). Or C) DID
NOTHING and just rocked that shit. That's
right. You were a free man, Rey! (besides the
strangely Rey-spawned biological daughter suddenly
not mentioned that singlehandedly destroyed the
credibility of the feud.). I mean, seriously, Rey.
No more Hell-spawns running around drop-toe
holding eachother into the Sofas. You were off the
hook. And not just in that whacky fun way Tazz
always says. Hell, you even got to have sex with
your wife bare-back (I always imagined him wearing
little condoms in the shape of Lucha masks before
this feud) any time you wanted without ever having
to worry about any more Mysterio junior, juniors
popping out. You had it made. But
hey, whatever. It's done. I'm just glad he didn't
feud with Juventud Guerrera next. They'd probably
inform us that Juvi wanted payback on Rey-Rey
because he saved his life once by donating a
kidney. And what a terrifying prospect that is!
Ahem.
So, yes, like scrotum, that was the
great Mysterio/Guerrero custody feud in a
nut-shell. An event SO life-changing and
devastating that 8 weeks later Rey would forget
all about it forever and dedicate his entire
career to this same man who tried to steal his
heir and kill the Mysterio umm, Junior name
forever. Gotta love wrestling. Kayfabe be damned.
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