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From: Montreal, Quebec, CANADA
Since last post: 2071 days
Last activity: 2063 days
|#1 Posted on 11.5.05 0612.55 |
Reposted on: 11.5.12 0616.51
| This is the third in my Hi-5 series, the first being Click Here (The W) - Beef Wellington and the Secret Origin of the Ass Punch, and the second being Click Here (The W) - A Brief History of Hi-5. |
Kid Kamikaze would like me to mention that next Friday, May 13th during the UWA Hardcore Wrestling show in Mississauga, that he, Kid Kamikaze, will be kicking Beef Wellington’s ass all over St. John's Hall, 2185 Stavebank Road, and that under NO circumstances will Beef Wellington have the chance to land his Ass Punch. So, if UWA fans were planning to pay $10 to see the Ass Punch, don’t bother, pay $10 to see the technical wizardry of Kid Kamikaze. (Doors open at 7:00 pm, the UWA website is Click Here (uwahardcorewrestling.com)
The preceeding message brought to you by the Kid Kamikaze Experience, threatening cowardly web publicists since 2001.
When I sit down to write these profiles, I try to work closely with the wrestlers to come up with a profile that suits their character. Sometimes, the wrestlers like to give little suggestions, little edits here and there; sometimes the wrestlers are content to let me go ahead either because they trust me or because they can’t be bothered; sometimes… sometimes the wrestlers like to micro-manage. Kid Kamikaze worries about the details. This, I suppose is what makes him successful as a wrestler. He worries about the details, about the technique of professional wrestling.
None of which is to say that having the smug son of a bitch joggling your elbow and questioning your grammar isn’t bloody annoying…
It also explains why Kid Kamikaze insisted that this profile be written from his point of view. “Because when it comes to the history of Hi-5, my opinion is the only one that matters!”
When We Were Marks
Inside the Kid Kamikaze Experience
“So what are we going to call you?”
Leaning on the balcony railing of the upper level of Le Skratch, he waited for Neil to give his answer and wondered again if he was doing the right thing. Barely three months ago, he had wrestled in front of ten thousand people in a clean professional building – home of the Canadians - in front of families, and now here he was about to wrestle in some rat-infested sewer in front of a few hundred dirty blood marks. Was this really the right thing to do?
He shook his head. The time for doubts was over. He was good, he knew that. But he needed to get better, And to get better he needed to wrestle more, a lot more against as many opponents as possible. Rougeau and PCO and Mastocola had given him a solid base, but they couldn’t finish the job. And performing in front of ten thousand people was nice, but doing it once or twice a year did him no good.
No, this was the right decision. Just as training with Rougeau was the right decision. Just as manipulating Neil into training with him was the right decision. Neil was a goof, but he was a charismatic goof – people liked Neil. He could use Neil’s charisma to get himself over. He knew that people did not like him – they were intimidated by how smart he was, how good looking he was, how much better he was than them.
He rubbed his upper lip. The ‘stache was starting to come in. He had to admit, one of the big reasons that he has picked the IWS was the women who came to the shows. The rats back-stage were probably all disease-ridden whores, but some of the women in the audience looked like they would meet his high standards. Soon they would ride the ‘stache. Oh yes.
“I think I’ll go with Beef Wellington”
He grimaced. Neil never did prepare. He was probably hungry and said the first thing that popped into his head. Class Fucking Clown to the end. Neil probably didn’t even realize that there was a “Biff Wellington” in Calgary. He thought about mentioning it and decided not to. Neil needed to learn that there were consequences to piss-poor preparation.
He remembered the first time that he had met Neil, screwing up patterns during a football training camp, because Neil couldn’t be bothered to put the effort into actually learning the plays. And yet, with that goofy grin and his continuous prattle, Neil never really got taken to task by the coaches or the other players. It was right then that he had realized that Neil might be useful. He had already been planning the move from football to wrestling. He could see that he would never have the right build for football, and he was already getting into trouble for using leverage and skill to take other players out. Dirty tackles indeed! Were they trying to win or were they going to have a pillow-fight? Still, he had to be honest with himself. He had a natural propensity for violence, and it would be best if he found a legal outlet for it.
So he had talked Neil into training with him, and when he realized that Rougeau had taught him all he could learn, he had dragged Neil to the IWS show at the Medley to see Justice Pain fight the Ninjaz. And when the crowd chanted I! – W! – S! he had seen Neil’s eyes light up and he knew that it would be easy to talk Neil into quitting Rougeau’s.
“What about you Dylan? What’ll we call you?”
This moment he had been planning for moments. In a few minutes, he would start paying his dues. He and Neil would put over Onyx. They would use the Rougeau t-shirts for cheap heat, and once the IWS crowd knew them well enough to really hate them, he and Neil would form a tag team and call themselves Hi-5. He was already planning to leave some New Kids on the Block cds around Neil’s hovel of a room. Neil would find them and think of the boy band gimmick on his own. Neil needed those small ego boosts, those small doses of positive reinforcement. Well, as long as the team did exactly what he wanted, he didn’t care if Neil thought they were his ideas. Fortunately, Neil was easy to manipulate. Like a poodle really. Funny, funny-looking, temperamental, obsessed with his hair and dumb.
He knew that the smelly drug addict scratching himself next to him wanted them to work a program with Evilyscious, but Soul Rage was acting like a diva and he suspected that Evilyscious would be gone before too long. Inevitably, he and Neil would end up in a feud with the Hardcore Ninjaz and equally inevitably they would take the titles. He could already see the cracks in the Ninjaz partnership. The two Japanese thugs might be brothers, but in any family where there was love, there was also hate. He could drive a wedge between the two Ninja brothers and splinter their team into pieces. He knew he could do it. He was positive. All he needed was time and patience.
Once he had the tag titles, he would put his hand out and bring in Kurt Lauderdale to watch his back. The kid was green and reckless, but he was strong, and in a bodyguard that was all he needed. Besides, if Kurt injured a few people watching their backs, it would just teach people not to mess with Neil or him. Actually, he could give a crap what people did to Neil. He could tell already that Neil was the weak link in their partnership. The time would come when Neil would do something stupid and cost them the tag titles. And when that happened, he would have to take Neil out. He would have no choice. But until then Hi-5 would dominate the tag team scene. This was going to work. He could feel it. Everything was going to go according to plan. As sure as his name was… Yes.
“Don’t call me anything, Manny. I AM Kid Kamikaze.”
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