Everyone was getting changed and packing up their gear when Joey Abs came barreling into the dressing room telling everyone to get ready for a battle royal. We all thought that Abs was ribbing us but the battle royal was legit. With only two minutes to bell time most of the guys, who had wrestled that night in flashy tights and various other strange battle jammies, came to the ring in jeans and running shoes and track pants and cowboy boots.
I’ve always heard from various wrestlers that if they’re not envisioning winning a battle royal they would opt to be the first one eliminated. I never understood that. The boys said that I would eventually understand after I had competed in few. Like the other guys, I had already worked that night (in the shittiest match in history with Flesh Gordan) and I was already changed into my street clothes consisting of black leopard skin pants and motorcycle boots with an absurdly high and dangerous lift to them. I deliberately tried to get myself thrown out, over the top rope, just like most of the other guys were trying to do. The only problem was that Rod Rageous (formerly Rodney of the Posse) ran around the ring, pulling everyone back in. “You’re not going anywhere yet!” was what Rod said to me while laughing. Every time I would almost manage to get thrown out, Rod would be right there to pull me back in! I ended up being fourth last out thanks to that playful son of an unnamed goat¾Rodney! This would be my third battle royal and I finally understood…