Saturday, December 08, 2007
BREAKING NEWS!!! Limited quantities of Father Ferly's Jesus Juice to be released to bloodthirsty public!
About the Wrestler
Father Ferly forms one half of the BWF tag team The Jesus Express. Along with his partner, the Reverend Jeff Fender, The Jesus Express has been constantly thwarted in their quest for the Tag Team belts, held by their arch-enemies, The Neanderthals. There is, of course, nothing symbolic in this feud whatsoever.
Father Ferly first met the Good Reverend while handing out Shame Pamphlets in a YMCA locker room. After discovering a shared contempt for free thinking, they quickly formed their own ministry. Due to the violent outbursts that would erupt at their public sermons, the pair decided that the squared circle was the ideal venue to showcase their message of faith. Here they could back up their words of peace and blind allegiance with devastating choke-slams. Their trademark phrase “Who Would Jesus Suplex?” remains a consistent best seller of T-shirts and bumper stickers.
Father Ferly is the more enigmatic of the two, preferring to let Reverend Jeff Fender do most of the talking. However, he is never afraid to identify and condemn the many “heathens” in the audience. Despite his age, Ferly is a quick and agile ring technician, capable of forcing opponents twice his size and half his age to beg for mercy.
Hometown: Promised Land, KY
About The Wine
Jesus Juice is the first wine from the BWF vineyards to be offered only in varieties of red. In the words of the winemaker Ferly, “Jesus didn’t have chardonnay running through his veins, you know!” As well as, “I don’t think Our Savior sat at the Last Supper and said, ‘Hey, pass the Pinot Grigio. This is my blood, drink it along with chicken or fish…” Ferly went on, at length, to add…
“Blessed is the nose that can sense the hints of multiple fruits in the Jesus Juice, none of which came from the Tree of Knowledge. Blessed is the wine-drinker that doesn’t think too much about the inherently contradictory aromatics of the Jesus Juice.
"Blessed are the winemakers, for their intelligent design of this choicest of reds did not evolve from anything - it just sprang fully-formed into being, without any prior trial and error. And woe be unto the wine-drinker that misses the full-bodied ascent and finish of the Jesus Juice, for verily he shall burn in Hell with nothing but Bud Light for all eternity.”
All proceeds from the sales of Jesus Juice will go to the Heal The Heathens Foundation, an organization headed by The Jesus Express dedicated to spreading ignorance, intolerance, and unreasonable claims to knowledge.
Sales of this wine are forbidden to scientists, single mothers, homosexuals and minorities.
Friday, December 07, 2007
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Hello everybody. Kim here with an update from my living room to your home! I'm happy to report that there has never been a better time than now to stay indoors, curl up on the couch and get comfy! On behalf of the BWF, I'm proud to announce the 24 hour BWF television station! Never again will you have to step outside to find excitement, drama, comedy or entertainment. Relive the BWF's greatest moments with the Morning Crotch Kick at 7:30! If religion's your game, check out the Jesus Express in Heal the Heathens at 10:00! I know what you're thinking - "That's great but what's for dinner?" Learn the latest and greatest recipes and cooking techniques with Big Moe's Big Fat Food Show at noon!
I'd love to tell you more but Rusty's Demons is about to begin and my bowl of ice cream is almost empty. Ta!
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
BWF Solitary Geek Media is proud to announce that the first BWF video game, Rusty's Jouney Back, will be released later this year. Here's a sneak peek at the instruction manual:
Objective: Help Rusty Lover, BWF Superstar and Man of Many Weaknesses, figure out which part of the country he’s in and how to get back to the arena he was booked in to wrestle that night, utilizing the help of any one of the BWF’s many other Superstars.
classic-rock guitar fueled by funky bass lines.
Use groupies to regain valuable energy and/or money. Don’t stay too long, or certain Enemies will be on your trail. (see below)
Replenish occasionally from the whiskey bottle icon, but don’t do it too often. Initially, you’ll receive a burst of speed and quite a bit of charm, but repeated visits will leave your controls sluggish, if not entirely backwards.
Use the phone booths to check your progress with Bob Boorstein, Chairman and CEO of the BWF. He will either berate you for being so far away, or adopt a resigned, frustrated tone if you’re getting nearer.
Enemies: Will appear out of nowhere with increasing frequency and tenacity as Rusty gets further along. Watch for:
Child Support Officers (loss of almost all money)
Bartenders (immediate loss of sobriety)
Divorce Lawyers (loss of rest of money)
Dealers (come in a variety of thematically-suited colors, and sometimes, aren’t all bad. Black is Mystery Drug Dealer, can either REALLY help you, or REALLY fuck you up)
Aliens (if captured, player 2 must play version of Galaga until he can succeed in getting captured Rusty ship side by side with his own)
Jesus (will use tractor beam to get you into church; keep wide berth and stay drunk. If captured, must beat Jesus in Go-Kart race to win back immortal soul)
For the most part, you want to avoid them, but there are certain scenarios in the game that cannot be overcome without their help. For instance, on Level 4, the only way to get up the cliff is to ride on the back of a giant harmless turtle, which only the Brown Dealer can help you find…
Green Dealer: Meet with him and the landscape just bounces for a while, and the music gets REALLY good.
White Dealer: You find yourself amped up and seeking out random strangers to talk to about absolutely nothing, making you easy prey for certain Enemies.
Red Dealer: Certain inanimate elements of the background come alive. Trees start to melt, and all light sources start to streak. You’ll be distracted by piles of breathing towels and the like. Colors become very significant-looking.
Brown Dealer: Similar in effect to the Red Dealer, only this time, giant harmless turtles and such will be running around. No harmful after effects.
Purple Dealer: Find groupies immediately. Watch money and energy levels go through the roof. Get out fast.
Orange Dealer: Random cacti sprout up, and Indian deities float upwards through the ground, explaining how mankind has lost its way and no longer lives in harmony with the planet.
Yellow Dealer. You become a flat, protoplasmic version of Rusty, slowly oozing and blobbing your way around. Speech is impossible, as is pretty much anything else productive.
Blue Dealer. Sort of a wild card randomizer; all extremes of speed, activity, and control response.
Black Dealer: Your world could come crashing down around you, or you could figure out how to fly.
Winning the Game:
Get to the arena on time and beat either Player 2 or the computer in a pay-per-view match for the Interstate Title. Celebrate in locker room. Go back to Level 1. Play again.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Troubled BWF superstar Jailbird found himself in prison yet again, this time for an apparant parole violation. Detroit police confiscated a 3 year supply of illegal painkillers. Jailbird claimed that he was set up. Eyewitnesses Slim and Sully refused to comment but were seen snickering outside of the courtroom... In possibly related news, hearthrob and Interstate champion Rusty Lover reported a missing duffel bag that contained "very important private possessions". Anyone with information regarding its whereabouts is asked to please call the BWF office... An innocent book signing by Berserko went horribly wrong yet again at the Elder Nursing Home in San Jose. Fortunately no one was killed this time around but several thousand dollars of damage were reported as well as multiple injuries to the already doomed residents. Berserko later apologized to the traumatized seniors but explained that "the rancid smell of decaying flesh" tends to bring out the worst in him... The highly anticipated matchup between Frank Franklin and Ron Birch ended in a draw, preserving both men's winless records. At first it looked like Franklin would get the win after snaring Birch in a well executed (though tremendously boring)abdominal stretch but Birch managed to hang on for the last 38 minutes...
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
On a bustling, well-lit stretch of cobblestoned street in one of the nicer parts of Nougat City, a prominent candy factory owner, his wife and their 11-year-old son emerge from an all-night bakery and candy shop. To call the man and his wife portly would be to redefine the parameters of the word “portly.” The child was well on his way – a chubby lad with a nice orange tuxedo and a short blond Mohawk.
Clearly, they have all come from a night at the theater, or perhaps an elegant, all-you-can-eat formal banquet. The man wears a dapper, if overstuffed, tuxedo. His top hat and pointed, swirled mustache give him the appearance of the Monopoly guy after he really let himself go. The wife’s appearance was a grotesque reinterpretation of formal elegance. For her outward appearance, the only reaction she ever provoked among those to lay eyes on her for the first time was the concept that the human male can be remarkably inventive and flexible when procreation is at hand.
In any event, the trio spills down the steps, smiling at each other. The father carries a grocery bag stuffed full of pastries, doughnuts, doughnut holes, doughnut perimeters, bricks of chocolate, etc. The boy happily lumbers along, taking the occasional bite out of his cotton candy in the left hand, and his three corn dogs in the right. They all exude total happiness.
The man, checking his watch, motions for the family to take a short cut down the dark alley immediately to their left. Through the gap in the alley, way down on the next brightly lit avenue, a single neon sign can be seen flashing: Chuck’s All-Nite Deep Fried Food Bucket. The family all gazes at each other, smiles, and lurches down the alley.
A pair of shiny shoes begins to echo on the slab of the alley floor. The father turns slightly, noticing. He turns back, shoulders his bag, and tries to hurry his family along. The footsteps gain speed and intensity. The father hands a box of doughnuts to the mother, in the hope of lightening the load. The footsteps grow ever closer and ever quicker.
Finally, a hand reaches out from behind the mother. Reaching out, it grabs the mother’s necklace, one of those candy-necklaces-on-a-string. The mother cries out, the father begins to turn; all while candies that popped loose are crashing into puddles at their feet. All of this is looked on in growing fear and horror by the boy. The struggle continues, the father getting jostled, pastries flying every which way, and the mother slowly screaming as she tries to keep the assailant away from the box of donuts. Mounting horror. Finally, a SHOT rings out, but it’s actually not a gunshot, it’s just the sound of the man’s hand plunging swiftly into the brown paper bag that the father is holding. More shot-like crumple sounds ensue, as the hand reaches deep into the bag.
The mother cries out in pain and faints dead away. The father lets out a prolonged scream of “Nooooo!” The child’s horror and shock are now all-consuming.
The hand emerges from the bag with a tube, clearly labeled “Ron Chestnut’s Good-Time Raw Cookie Dough (Now With Bacon!).” The father tries to hang on to the tube for dear life. Eventually, both his hands slip off and he drops with an anguished, drawn out primal noise to the pavement.
The child is struck numb with fear and panic; looking first at his downed parents and then back to the shadowy assailant. The dark figure seems to regard the child for a moment, and then raises the tube of cookie dough like a pistol.
“Hey kid,” he says, stepping forward into less shadow to reveal a pudgy face hidden under a hat brim, “You ever dance with the Devil Dogs by the pale moonlight?”
The figure runs off, leaving the child staring wide-eyed into the night, scarred forever by his parents’ screams.
Friday, January 26, 2007
Dear BWF Management,
As the above heading suggests, I am writing to complain. I have been a dedicated cartoon wrestling fan my whole life and I spend roughly $1,200 a month on various BWF products. However, I am simply outraged at the way we female wrestling fans are consistently overlooked. For example, there is not a single ladies room in the entire BWF Enormodome (capacity 115,000). When I asked an usher which facilities I should use, he merely shrugged and suggested I “hold it”.
Furthermore, I am tired of how every commercial during your otherwise fine Slam Your Face Off program is geared towards men and men alone. In last week's hour-long episode, I decided to take note. There were four commercials for Crotty Beer, three for men’s deodorant, six for Viagra, and eight for men’s beard trimmers. But what about my beard?
If you do not change your policies, I will have no choice but to compose a follow-up letter. Sincerely,
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Friday, January 19, 2007
In a staggering turn of events, what can only be described as "an unpredictable, but not really" ambush, jovial fan favorite Pineapple Pete interrupted an in depth interview with Heftyweight Champion Bulldozer and publicly accused him of stuffing his tights with rocks during the Battle Royal weigh-in, in order to increase his mass. Long story short – words were exchanged, and Dozer was taken out in a stretcher after Pineapple assaulted him with a coconut, threw a couch at him and sat on his face for a while.
This is not the first time their deep friendship has erupted in cartoonish violence. Below is a brief timeline of these behemoths' stormy relationship.
1995 – Bulldozer takes up-and-coming Kid Coconut under his wing. He trains and feeds him.
1997 – Kid Coconut outweighs Dozer for the first time at 442 lbs., becomes Pineapple Pete.
1998 – At the first and only Pleasantries in Pawtucket pay-per-view, Pineapple eats Dozer's Krunch Bar prior to the 'Best Friends Forever' contract signing. What later became known as "The Crunch Heard Around the World" ignites a vicious feud that carries them through six continents, culminating in a Portugese Fire Match. Said Dozer of the incident – "He ate more than my Krunch Bar. He ate my faith in mankind."
2001 – The fans forgive Pineapple after a public apology. He sends Bulldozer a box of donuts with hot dogs in the holes as a peace offering. The world breathes a sigh of relief.
2002 – Dozer & Pete become embark on a 6 month long tag-team title reign.
2003 – Pete steals Dozer's winning candy wrapper and cashes it in for 1.2 million. He returns to the BWF as "The Fat Millionaire." Another heated feud is unleashed.
2004- After a 7 hour session at Therapy in Thames III, Dozer and Pete once again set aside their differences and begin their friendship anew. Pineapple ditches the tuxedo.
2005 – Pineapple has the Dozer family over for Thanksgiving dinner.
Bulldozer is reportedly past the denial stage and is officially "extremely pissed off". Hopefully some sort of resolution will occur at the big Heftyweight Battle Royal.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Friday, January 05, 2007
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
That's right. I'm sick and tired of getting no proper attention. I've been working hard on my skills AND image and now I might finally start getting some respect around duh.
And if you don't believe me then you're only asking for a beating - on your face!