Jesus Christ, Superstars: For Want Of Nailz (June 13, 1992)

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up next, Frank Gotch telegraphs George Hackenschmidt

Previously on Jesus Christ, Superstars: Papa Shango showed off the magnitude of his dark magicks by making Mean Gene Okerlund’s armpit leak motor oil. Also, fans are loving Crush!

If you’d like to watch this week’s episode, you can do that here, and you can support the column (so we’re allowed to keep writing it) by reading previous installments on our Jesus Christ, Superstars tag page. If you like these, and our break from the normal Best and Worst format, make sure to share it around so it gets read and drop us a comment below.

Here’s what you missed 27 years ago on WWF Superstars for June 6, 1992.

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Jobbers Of The Week

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Up first this week we have the pleasure of being entertained by the Hulk Hogan of jobbers, Barry Horowitz. Horowitz is the George Washington on the Mt. Rushmore of enhancement talent, debuting in 1979 but really coming into his own between 1987 and 2000.

His gimmick is that he prematurely pats himself on the back for a job well done, then … well, does the job well. He finally gets a (legendary) win in 1995 when he pins one of the Bodydonnas and gets the mid-90s equivalent of “called up to the main roster.” Realizing he’d need a main roster gimmick beyond Affable Loser, WWE’s creative minds decided that since he was Jewish, his gimmick should be, “Jewish.” They put a star of David on his butt and make ‘Hava Naglia’ his entrance theme. Who knows what he could’ve done if they’d given him Ted DiBiase’s gimmick.

Anyway, Horowitz loses to Tatanka, who still hasn’t found any closure on that whole “French Canadian model stole my ceremonial feathers and won’t stop spraying men’s cologne onto them” thing. Closure on the “who is the greatest Jewish professional wrestler of all time” argument doesn’t come until Horowitz faces Bill Goldberg in 1998. I won’t spoil what happens in that one.

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Taking on Shawn Michaels this week is the real “Heartbreak Kid,” Graig Brown, if you’re talking that “oh my God my blind date doesn’t look anything like she said he would” kind of heartbreak. Brown looks like what would’ve happened if NXT Baron Corbin had been into the Pure Prairie League instead of metal, and the highlight of the match is when Sensational Sherri catches a shot of Graig’s 1981 AWA body in Shawn Michaels’ mirror. When will his reflection show who Graig Brown is inside?

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If you’re wondering why Craig Brown’s skullet is balding, it’s because Dale Wolfe took all the jobber hair for himself. It looks like a Metroid is attacking the back of his head.

You may know Dale better as “Dusty” Wolfe, seen here after the World Wrestling Federation changed his name so people wouldn’t confuse him with Dusty Rhodes. Definitely a confusion you need to worry about. Wolfe’s known as one of the best enhancement guys of his era, though, probably because he was trained by Ken Johnson, the guy who got Shawn Michaels into wrestling and co-founded the Texas Wrestling Academy. He’s currently a history adjunct professor at Northwest Vista College in San Antonio and also sometimes an officially licensed Doink the Clown. It’s a life well-lived.

Here he loses to The Ugandan Giant Kamala, who proves that 1992 isn’t way too late to be doing scary black savage gimmicks to scare little white kids in Kentucky.

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Hang on, that’s too violent. Can we change the name right before we go live?


Much better.

Most unfortunate jobbers of the week (and possibly the decade, and possibly all-time) goes to The Executioners. If you grew up watching wrestling in the 70s and 80s you recognize this as one of those “masked men” gimmicks they assign when they need four jobbers for a show but only have two, so they call you DOCTOR X and THE MASKED MARAUDER or whatever and make you pull double duty. These Executioners are Barry Hardy and Duane Gill, at least according to the unexpectedly thorough The Executioners (professional wrestling) Wikipedia page.

Why are they unfortunate, you ask? Well, they lose a match to the Natural Disasters, and one of the Executioners has to take Earthquake’s finish, and, uh … Quake has clearly either pissed or shit himself in the ring. I’m talking a clear, black oval skidmark.

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oh no

I don’t know which Executioner that was, but after taking that move, he’s Executioner #2.

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Koby 2012

Having a slightly less shitty experience is Bill Koby. There’s a special place in oblivion for Superstars jobbers who don’t know how to work the hard cam, or at least turn toward it and hold up their hands with a sad look on their face when their name is called.

You can’t really tell here, but Koby kinda looks and sounds like Gummo cosplaying Jerry ‘The King’ Lawler. He gets threatened with death by electrocution by positive self-talker The Mountie, and only escapes when Mountie does a full Michael Keaton Batman turnaround to get rid of the microphone. It seems like The Mountie’s in control, but now he’s got the Koby beef.

Mike Samples Of The Week

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In last week’s column we introduced you to Mike Samples, the Forrest Gump of professional wrestling, seen here selling an El Matador arm drag like he’s falling off Nakatomi Plaza at the end of Die Hard.

I don’t have much to say about it, but I wanted an excuse to randomly share more Mike Samples highlights, like the time he argued with unbelievably fine pre-Crisis Sunny while wearing ketchup and mustard panties, or the time he pulled a Superman and died battling Doomsday. Writing these columns for me is like shopping at Whole Foods; I’m just going around in circles for the endless Samples.

Well Researched Fandom Of The Week

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You can tell who she’s rooting for because of the sink faucet on the poster. I hope he can get his feathers back from The Mondel Rick Martinell.

The Ballad Of Robert And Lucretia, Part Two

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Hey Robert ^___^

I know you’re up returning my soft pretzel for being too hard (?? wtf) so I thought I’d write you and let you know what you’re missing.

Do you know Shawn Michaels? He’s out here now fighting a guy who looks he loiters in memorabilia shops looking for 8x10s of Ann-Margret. Anyway, Shawn Michaels. He’s so hot, don’t you think? According to his entrance theme he knows he’s sexy, but only thinks he’s cute, which seems weird but the more you think about it the more relatable it is. It’s sorta like knowing that people love you, but not being sure if they like you. You know? You can work hard to be sexy by societal standards, but “cute” is DEEPLY subjective, and a lot closer to the emotional honesty you want from a partner’s opinion of you.

Remember when we went to Myrtle Beach on that Best Friends vacation and ran into that really cute guy at the Pavillion? What was his name, Travis? Hahah remember how he said he was from the future, and you agreed to hang out at the arcade playing Old West Shooting Gallery for a few hours while we rode the Ferris wheel? I can still feel the salty air in my incredible hair poof. You’re such a good friend! Anyone would be lucky to have you as their boyfriend!

Anyways I need to pay attention to the match, since Shawn’s looks are driving the girls wild and really moving them. I’d hoped I could send this to you by raven, which is hard to find inside a wrestling arena in 1992, but a helpful young boy named Johnny Polo has agreed to deliver it for me. We’re gonna hang out later!

See you soon! You pal,

Say Hello To My Little Friend Of The Week

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Hey, Chico, leave those kids alone

This episode features the debut vignette from former American Starship member and recent Diamond Studd “Scott Hall,” portraying his brand new World Wrestling Federation character, Razor Ramon. Ramon is described by Vince McMahon as a, “Cuban immigrant, an individual who apparently feels as though the streets of America are paved with gold.”

Please enjoy his first ever vignette, in which Razor talks about how uneducated he is before directly quoting Scarface, a great illustration of the WWF at their subtle best. Bonus: that kid angrily eating ice cream at the camera.

Hi, new to the country, anybody know where I can get an off-white sport coat in 5XL?

A Mighty Wind Of The Week

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Next week, Mean Gene tries to find out “wha happen” to the Ultimate Warrior.

Vague Curse Explanation Of The Week

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On last week’s episode, Papa Shango “cursed” Mean Gene Okerlund by making it drip “evil goo” from his arm. The how or why of this is still unexplained, and since previous victims have either been dead jobbers (Brian Brieger) or unintelligible maniacs you never want to start a conversation with (Ultimate Warrior), it’s up to Gene to use his words and tell us what’s going on.

Gene’s words: “Obviously folks, I don’t know what to say. I mean, what would you say if something like this happened to you?” I dunno, Gene, but if I was at work and an enormous pro wrestling voodoo priest made trash water leak out of my body I’d sure as hell make an attempt. First step is to check my pits for Satanic pores. Once that’s done, maybe address the fact that voodoo was just proven real in this universe, which calls the very existence and nature of God into question.

Ultimate Warrior’s response is to announce that he’s constructed a voodoo-proof barrier out of children’s love, and reveals that he’s actually just a magical skeleton surrounded by meat and tassels. No, seriously …

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“In possessing the powers that you have, Papa Shango, then you must see the force of Warriors that do believe, surround me. And placing your curse upon those that do not believe, Papa Shango, only makes you weaker. This warrior says TAKE EYE, LET MEEEE SACRIFICE MYYY flesh so I can walk only as a skeleton … IF! Papa Shango! I stand! ONLY AS A SKELETON. I still stand, as the SKELETON of, the, ULTIMATE WAAAAARIORRRRR!”

This is the weirdest season of Castlevania yet.

One Phone Call Of The Week

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Because he’s a good dude, Mr. Perfect calls the home of the Big Boss Man and asks him what it feels like to be retired forever because he got beaten up by a wrestling Herman Munster in a Party City “prisoner” costume. Boss Man says that he’s not retired and will be back, which causes Perfect to say, “YOU’RE EVEN STUPIDER THAN I THOUGHT, GOODBYE,” and hang up on him. There’s something truly old school wrestling heel about a guy arranging a televised phone call, having graphics prepared that show he’s on the phone talking to the guy (with maps and everything), peppering the entire thing with photos of the guy’s injuries, then just calling him stupid and hanging up.

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how I end all of my phone calls now

Nailz, by the way, has his debut match against Ron Cumberledge, and by “match” I of course mean Nailz just blatantly chokes him for like three minutes until the referee calls for the bell. I love that the World Wrestling Federation would hire and promote a disgraced former prison guard as a hero for children, then also employ a prisoner from that prison who wants to find and kill that guard in real life. Is anybody checking references over here?

Macho Beat You Of The Week

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Good old fashioned Nature Boy

Gene Okerlund, unable to find a way to tell us what being possessed by a voodoo curse feels like, has a “very special interview” with Macho Man Randy Savage. Basically he asks him the same questions he’s been asked since WrestleMania, which amount to, “how do you respond to Ric Flair saying he bent the rules to win the WWF Championship at WrestleMania?” Savage explains that when he wrestles scientific wrestlers he wrestles them scientifically, but that he’s not naive and is not going to let a guy called “the dirtiest player in the game” get an advantage over him. It’s a salient point from a guy who otherwise says,

“Shot through the heart and you’re to blame, brother you give love a BAD name, Ric Flair, I’m talkin’ to you!”

He also says he’s going to take the WWF Championship “to the grave” because he’s “bad to the bone,” which makes me wonder what kind of skeleton he’d be if his flesh were to be sacrificed.

Next Week Of The Week

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Papa Shango will be here to ask, “what would YOU say if you were a voodoo priest who cursed wrestlers? How would you explain it? Please write into World Wrestling Federation at Titan Towers in Stamford, CT, care of Papa Shango.” It’s also time for the WBF Championships live on pay-per-view, which I should definitely review.

Until then … I don’t know what to say.