Our pillow fort here in the Wrestlegasm Bunker is starting to sag. If anyone’s in the area and has five spare minutes, please be a doll, come round and fluff up our pillows for us? We’ll pay you in cheese puffs. While we wait, I’ll crack on with our next award, for the people we love to hate.
There aren’t many pure villains around these days. We have plenty of bad guys and angry girls, but what we’re talking about is moustache-twiddling, Disney-esque villainy. It’s one thing to want to beat down everyone in your path to victory, damning the consequences as you go. To have a devilish plan that not only gets you to the top, but also takes you down the most dastardly route possible is quite another.
A rare breed of wretch was reborn this year in the form on John Laurinaitis. We hate him. No, I mean we really hate him. Johnny’s 2011 incarnation had all the Machiavellian qualities of Vince McMahon without any of the deranged likability. His behind-the-scenes campaign to bring Triple H down from his lofty managerial perch while playing dumb in public made me want to throw rotten vegetables at his face. It was his influence that forced our beloved Beth Phoenix to wander down that vomit inducing ‘We’re girls. We need protecting. Wah-wah-wah’ path when he ushered the roster towards a vote of no confidence in their leader.
Every time John appeared on screen, I gave out an enormous and genuine sigh that said ‘Urgh. This guy. WTF does he want this time?’ There’s also the fact that he’s allegedly an even bigger dickhead in real life, which only ramps up our loathing further. Here’s to you, John Laurinaitis. We look forward to your pending demise, beginning with CM Punk’s heart stopping character assassination at the end of this week’s Raw and the inevitable repercussions of punching Mick Foley in the kisser.
Honourable Mention: goes to Kharma. There aren’t many wrestlers who can fill not only their opponents but also the audience will palpable terror after just a second of crunching piano chords and a spine chilling cackle. Even watching her WWE debut again now I get a genuine, slightly fluttery feeling in my chest. The kind of internal tremor that reminds me why I love wrestling so much.
For purely selfish reasons, it’s a shame her plan to trim the Divas division and make it her own was so short. But we can hardly be angry with a woman for disappearing for the sake of motherhood, as debated earlier in the year. Whenever Kharma’s ready to return, we’ll be there, peeking from behind cushions, hoping she doesn’t catch our eye. EEK!