Monday, September 9, 2013

Dragon Con 2013: DCW

Ladies and gentlemen and Phantomaniacs around the world – it is time once again for me to recap the greatest and best wrestling show that happens all year long!

Dragon Con Wrestling

That’s right – Dragon Con Wrestling happened again, all over the Hyatt Centennial Ballroom at Dragon Con. There were thrills, there were chills, there were spills, and there were LUCKY FUCKING CHARMS.
I got to the Ballroom area extra early this year because I didn’t want to get fucked around like I did last year and also because after my years of investigation I decided it was high time I came face to face with the brains behind this momentous annual event. I had used every bit of reporting skill the good lord has bestowed upon me to make my way ever higher up the DCW chain of command. I finally knew who the Wizard behind the DCW curtain was. Or Wizards, as the case turned out to be.
The key to my discovery and eventual meeting of these mysterious men of wrestling turned out to be my chance encounter with Miss Rachael earlier in the day. I mentioned my quest to her; as well as my desire to one day host a Piper’s Pit-esque interview panel before DCW. She told me – in utmost confidence – that the force behind DCW could be found at a very specific table before the show. Miss Rachael specified that when I entered the lobby outside of the ballroom, I must turn right.
And so – like Harry Potter taking that leap of faith in whatever train station that was – I arrived at the Hyatt Ballroom Level, girded my loins, and turned right. Right into the annals of DCW Hooligan and internet journalism history. Because I soon found myself facing the two kings on their mighty thrones.
There sat the mysterious figures known as AJ and Tiny. I knew them from their years behind the DCW announce table, but had never suspected they were the true powers that be. I walked over and introduced myself, but my fame and prior inquisitions had preceded me. Both men knew me and my work well. I asked if I could go inside and put my bags in one of the sections – I had my beer bag and a huge bag full of the remaining Hooligans shirts. AJ said to go on into the backstage area and say hello to the boys.
I did, and ended up in a great comic book conversation with Reverend Dan Wilson and Jeff G. Bailey. I also managed to grab a picture of the greatest wrestling gear of all time, worn by Mr. Darkstone Ross of CANADA:
I then went back outside to speak with AJ and Tiny about the Hooligans situation. I just wanted to be sure the whole crew would be able to sit together and be drunken asses as a collective. This turned out to not be a problem – we were going to have our own section. The DCW guys knew who we were and certainly knew how much we love DCW year after year. Also, they wanted to create the best possible scenario for the control and containment of what is one of the DCW Hooligans’ most valuable assets; but at the same time one of the most volatile risks – Evil.
Evil narrowly escaped being ejected from DCW last year because of something to do with how the moon was shining.
So AJ and Tiny and the head of DCW Security – a man called Mascot – went over in very exacting detail what would happen if Evil – or any of the rest of our crew – had any behavioral issues this year. As it turned out, Evil was outside in the lobby having the exact same discussion with some other members of Dragon Con security. I found this out when he frantically texted me – and yes, you can tell when a text is frantic – that I needed to get to the line immediately and that they were in trouble. I told him not to worry about it and that everything was covered and also not to get too drunk because they would yank his badge and throw him out of Con.
I cannot imagine a more dire threat.
After I assured the DCW and Dragon Con powers that be that we would look out for our own and be very, very loud but not problems I went back inside to claim our section. And eat my chicken fingers, which I had been toting around for over an hour at this point. Shortly after I sat down I was joined by the lovely Inara, who goes way out of her way to take care of the rest of us Hooligans every year. She was there to once again save us a section, which she has done for the past two years.
Mascot was the head of DCW Security, but the Hooligans have had our very own security guy for a few years now – a fella called Buddha. He’s a great guy who would almost certainly be joining in on our drunken tomfoolery if he didn’t have a job to do. Buddha came over and reiterated about “that little guy with the beard” behaving himself.
Soon enough, the little guy with the beard and the rest of the Hooligans filed into the room and it was time for this shit to be on!
CB Suavé v. CHIP MOTHERFUCKING DAY v. Ethan Case v. Darkstone Ross
Yeah, yeah – those are real names. AJ specifically asked me to use everybody’s real names in the recaps and I can’t very well let him down, can I? When DCW Chairman Buck Gently asks, I listen. For a minute, anyway.
The opening match on the DCW card is one of the most critical events of the whole Dragon Con weekend. If they book some sorry match with a bunch of soft, old men slapping each others’ titties, DCW’s natural momentum is going to be shit on. That’s why every year there a four young lunatics jerking the curtain and putting on what would otherwise be a Main Event caliber match on WWE Velocity.
The match did not disappoint. The sheer arrogance and athleticism of CB and Case meshed perfectly with Ross’ raw enthusiasm and CHIP MOTHERFUCKING DAY’s complete inability to not lose a match. CB and Case were both doing their best impersonations of well-known, cocky wrestlers and would have been indistinguishable if not for the fact that Case looks like he should be doing commercials for the new LEGO NFL toys and CB looks like the Latinos’ new bottom bitch on OZ. Except prettier. And also he can fly:
That’s just about the best Macho Man Elbow I’ve ever seen live.
In an effort to discourage the DCW Hooligans’ chants of “Muffin Top, Muffin Top!”, CHIP MOTHERFUCKING DAY had grown out the most ridiculous mullet I think I’ve ever seen. And it worked. We switched to “Mullet Top, Mullet Top!” which turned out to be nearly indistinguishable. And also, Darkstone thought we were chanting at him, which is ridiculous because that guy is -8% body fat and also because he had TARDIS gear, making him the Light Heavyweight Champion of Dragon Con Wrestling.
YOUR WINNER and First-Ever DCW Light Heavyweight Champion – Darkstone Ross

Apparently DCW Chairman Buck “AJ” Gently pocketed the Cab Fare Battle Royal money last year and put a down payment on a title belt.
Washington Bullets v. Buns of Anarchy w/ Shane Marx v. The Micro Machines
Much to the surprise and delight of everybody, the greatest tag team in the world made their Dragon Con Wrestling debut this year! That’s right – the all-luchador team of the 8PM Riders!:
Ha! Just kidding! Those are the guys that gave me all the PBR Thursday night. They were out of beer on Friday and I didn’t share because I am a dick. I felt very slightly awkward about it until I left them and went back to the Hooligans’ section.
And then the true greatest tag team in the history of Our Great Sport entered the ring to thunderous applause and much panty-moistening – The Washington Bullets were in DCW!
Their opponents were Assworth and Satan Waffle in Buns of Anarchy and Corey Hollis and his Gentleman Friend in The Micro Machines. I was originally going to call them “Team Race Car” because of their tights, but I decided The Micro Machines was funnier.
This match was fucking crazy. Satan Waffle and Assworth are two big guys that can go, The Micro Machines are tiny dynamos, and the Bullets… well, the Bullets.
Trey and Jon were on fire to start, but eventually Assworth got a hold of the younger Bullet and chopped him across the chest. To which Trey said, “Bitch, that was like a mouse farting on a biscuit.” He then knocked Assworth on his… backside, leapt across the ring to take down Satan Waffle, and got a tag to Jon.
The Buns of Anarchy were immediately gripped with intense fear and bolted out of the ring to join their valet for the evening, Shane Marx (who was clearly trying to ingratiate himself to the Hooligans by wearing our colors). Jon Williams – utterly unconcerned with his own, personal well-being and only worried about fucking up the opposition and entertaining the slobbering DCW masses.
Trey followed suit, but it was at this exact moment that my propensity for taking blurry, shitty pictures at wrestling events (among other places) kicked in:
The Micro Machines took the advantage for a time after that, and what followed was such a flurry of pure professional wrestling excellence and athletic violence that I just had to take a bunch of blurry pictures. One of them was of the Bullets hitting their signature move – the Marion Barry – on Corey Hollis and making Dragon Con Wrestling history!
YOUR WINNERS – The Washington Bullets

The Bullets became the first wrestlers in the long and questionable history of DCW to win their debut match! An amazing feat and one that can quite literally never be equaled. And they probably still had to take the bus home.
Talky Time with the Bozos
No DCW show would be complete without appearances by Bloated Bobby Auschwitz and Stephanie McLayin’. Unfortunately, having the pair of them talking in the ring together is somewhat akin to watching Catwoman and Waterworld at the same time.
I never thought I’d be so glad to see Jersey Shore show up to blast us with his repulsive man stink.
Jersey Shore v. Totally Not Skorpion
This match was probably totally amazing, but I got distracted by our Viking friend talking to DCW Treasurer Earl T. “Tiny” Stubing, Jr. and also I had to unload some of the many beers I had imbibed. Had I a choice I would never, ever choose a Jersey Shore match as the Piss Break, but I knew what was coming next thanks to some backstage intel…
Shop Teacher & Early Gentry v. Cupcake Sting & STD
His name is actually STD. I am not making that up.
Despite the incredibly advanced age and frail physical condition of the four madmen in this bout… okay – these guys pretty much just punched each other in the gut a lot. But it was really hard. Like, I think Shop Teacher might have sprained his wrist at one point laying into STD. This match was something special for DCW, not because it looked like four old, drunk guys had gotten into a fight talking about college football outside of Cracker Barrel. No, this match was special because Shop Teacher had the dubious privilege of unleashing DCW’s ultimate tool of carnage and viciousosity –


Unbeknownst to the larger DCW audience but beknownst to Shop Teacher and Early Gentry but unbeknownst to STD, the Hooligans had brought not one, not two, not five, but EIGHT boxes of the deadly breakfast comestible to the DCW Arena. Grabbing box after box, Shop Teacher unleashed stale, marshamllowy heck upon his hapless opponent.
I would provide more pictures, but such gruesome violence is not suitable for the elderly, expectant mothers, or most species of penguin.
Also, all of those pictures are blurry, too. I am patiently awaiting all 17,953 pictures taken by the combined forces of the DCW Hooligan photo corps – Hoolicanuck Phil and Brand New.
YOUR WINNERS – Shop Teacher & Early Gentry

After the match, Early promptly retired and said we were all stupid assholes.
I missed a good one here, too – Reverend Dan opened his mouth and a bat flew out. 
I just missed it.
TANK v. Shastaphonic v. Peter Pumpkin Balls v. Sweet Stevie Sassafras
I don’t know who booked this match, but they clearly hadn’t seen Sweet Stevie before. I don’t know why you would book three slobbering giants against a guy with the build of a Sassy magazine cover model.
The match kicked off with Peter and Shastaphonic whooping the shit out of each other while TANK wandered around ringside looking surly - perhaps angry that Darth Pete had eaten all of the Lucky Charms:
For his part, Sweet Stevie was standing by the DCW announce table exemplifying Craven and Cowardly. But he couldn’t escape notice forever. TANK walked over and grabbed the little fella by the neck. It looked like it was all over for Sassafras, but then a conversation ensued:

TANK: “I want some Lucky Fucking Charms.”
Sweet Stevie: “Hey, man – I’m sorry! I think Shop Teacher and that guy with the beard – no, not that one, the other one; with the hat. No not the short bearded guy with the hat, the taller one. No – not the grey beard, the brown one. Yeah. With the little girl socks on. They ate them all.”
TANK: “But I’m so hungry.”
Sweet Stevie: “Look, just let go of my neck and I’ll see what I can do.”

So TANK and Sweet Stevie went into the ring to ask Shastaphonic if he had any Lucky Charms. Shastaphonic was all like, “What the fuck, guys? I’m trying to wrestle a match here,” and smacked TANK, which is a terrible idea. Especially when TANK is hungry.
Sweet Stevie took the opportunity to slide back out of the ring and find – much to everybody’s delight – one last Lucky Charms box! He hopped back into the ring, delighted, and presented it to TANK. The big man enthusiastically tore into the box, but his expression was not one of a man who has discovered a box full of weird Irish stereotypes. Instead, it was like that of a child that has run downstairs on Christmas morning only to find socks and underwear.
Looking absolutely despondent, TANK emptied the box into the middle of the ring and yelled, “WHO WOULD PUT THUMBTACKS IN A LCUKY CHARMS BOX? THAT IS NOT SAFE!
Sweet Stevie – who is allergic to thumbtacks – immediately jumped up onto the top turnbuckle like an old-school cartoon lady that just saw Jerry or that shitty little grey mouse that Jerry used to hang out with. Unfortunately, Sweet Stevie does not live up there like Juventud Guerrera. The little fella lost his balance and came crashing down, right onto TANK.
And that, my friends, is when shit got FOR REALS.
Peter Pumpkin Balls threw Shastaphonic into the tacks.
TANK threw Peter into the tacks.
TANK threw Shastaphonic into the tacks.
Sweet Stevie dropkicked TANK into the tacks.
TANK chokeslammed Sweet Stevie into the tacks (which actually made me poop a little bit).
Shastaphonic slammed TANK into the tacks.
Peter Pumpkin Balls slammed Shastaphonic into the tacks.
At no point did it occur to anybody to just leave.
And then (also because this is DC Fucking W), Peter Pumpkin Balls went to the top rope and executed his phenomenal Pumpkinsault onto Shastaphonic, who was laying face down in the thumbtacks.
I bet that man is still picking tacks out of his dick.
But somehow, through the agony of thumbtacks stuck directly into his genitals and anus, Shastaphonic reached deep within himself and found the courage and the fortitude to do some really big move on Peter Pumpkin Balls that I missed because I have shitty timing.

YOUR WINNER and 2013 DCW Dragon Cup Champion – Shastaphonic

Wow! What an amazing night of… wait… no… it can’t be…
What kind of evil, sadistic fuck would think that a cage was acceptable for DCW!?!?!?
But before I get to the single most insane thing that has ever happened in the DCW Arena – a Steel Cage Match of DOOM – I have to talk about a close second for that very same title.
A DCW Legend named Azrael – that’s what he for-real goes by and I’ll use it because of the insane and commendable thing he did – came out from backstage with a belt and a dream. The dream was that he could raise money for a fellow wrestler that needed it. The belt was so that we scumbags in the DCW audience could pay $3 for one shot and $5 for three shots and do our best to whoop the shit out of one of the toughest sumbitches in wrestling today.
I am not the most charitable person in the world, but I have a website to maintain and I knew that taking the strap to a for-real wrestler was something that would give me at least three or four good paragraphs.
I only had a ten, so I offered to go ahead and cover somebody else as well. Hooligan Evil… well, he didn’t exactly leap forward. He was more sort of shoved.
I was first in line, and knew I had to set the bar high given my whole gimmick. I have never actually hit anybody with a strap before (though I have been on the receiving end of some whoopings), but I have seen a lot of Dusty Rhodes and Tully Blanchard matches. I’ve seen the best of the best. I got myself into position, raised my arm, and let fly across that poor motherfucker’s back. A loud whip crack echoed out across the DCW Arena and the bloodthirsty crowd seemed satisfied. I felt like I could do better the second time, and I have to say – I think I did. Unfortunately I totally forgot I was supposed to get a third.
I mean – I felt like two was enough and I didn’t want to smack this brave guy up any more than was necessary.
Next it was Evils’ turn. He had the benefit of watching my technique up close, and I had a feeling he was going to really lay into poor Azrael. What he lacks in size he makes up for in sheer drunkenness.
Evil reared back with all of his might, paused to tense his muscles and take aim, and then let fly with all of the force in his body. The strap made contact, and a sound that was not unlike that of a mouse farting on a biscuit resulted. There was a moment of pure, sweet silence from the DCW crowd, and then a chorus of boos rained down upon Evils’ drunken head.
Guys – I don’t even remember what I did. I might have laughed. I might have hung my head. I might have been booing. I don’t know. But I’ll never forget the soft “pfft” noise as that strap lightly brushed Azrael’s back.
To Evil’s credit, he took a second shot and it was a little better.
Some more folks stepped up and had their turn, but none were as mighty as my blow or as weak and disappointing as Evils’.

Fairuza v. Dollar William v. Sad Cowboy v. Slim J
v. Mickey Rourke v. Nemesis v. Another Dude v. One Other Dude
in the
DCW Steel Cage of DOOM

The first problem with having a Steel Cage of DOOM match as the DCW Main Event is that by then I was way too drunk to remember everybody in the match. Usually that isn’t an issue, but the second problem with a Steel Cage Match of DOOM is that all of my pictures either look like this:
Or like this:
So even with photographic evidence I have no idea who was in the match.
Suffice it to say that everybody beat the fuck out of everybody else. The Hooligans were going so fucking nuts during this one that I don’t think we sat down at all. The Steel Cage had created a palpable tension and sense of anticipation throughout the arena. The wrestlers were even more electrified than usual by the foreboding structure and the DCW crowd had been reduced to the state of bloodthirsty animals. If it had been Spartacus: Blood and Sand there would have been titties everywhere.
Every man in that match gave everything he had and wowed everybody in the arena, but when Slim J ascended to the top of the cage it was like everybody had suddenly spotted the Dark Knight crouched upon a gargoyle in the Gotham City night. There was a breathless, intense moment that we all shared as J gestured downward, then the room exploded into a wild cacophony. Slim J dove from the top of the cage onto whatever poor soul was waiting below and chants of “DCW! DCW! DCW!” threatened to tear the roof down.

YOUR WINNER – Every single person that saw this match live

I don’t know who won. It doesn’t matter. That match was fucking phenomenal. One of the most exciting matches I’ve ever seen live. I’m tired just from writing about it.
Be sure to check back tomorrow for the rest of Friday night’s adventures!



  1. I am so pissed that i wasnt able to go, but I fear that the hail of lucky charms would have killed me.

    1. We could've brought you a little Wile e. Coyote-style umbrella. Shit - now I want to do that next year.