Abe Wilder

If you’ve never bought a ticket to another promotion’s event just to walk through the crowd during your bitter rival’s tag team match while wearing the mask of an electric car mogul? Well then, ma’am or sir, you haven’t lived.

 

Normally, I’m not what you’d call a thrillseeker. One time when Miserée pranked me and switched my Sanka with the caffeinated java, I didn’t sleep for three days straight. Sure, that gave me plenty of time to reorganize my T-shirt collection and learn all of the capitals of every country in Africa in alphabetical order. But I didn’t like the way I felt. I’m a gentleman of repetitiveness and routine, and I like to be nestled in my comfort zone. Unless of course we’re talking about a sushi restaurant – now that’s when Spontaneous Abe pokes his head out from under the fur!

 

But a couple of days ago in Missouri? I was an outlaw. A real American Badass. It felt so dangerous to dance with the devil and break the unspoken rule of professional wrestling. No, not the one where you aren’t supposed to tell people that Big Spandex’s stronghold on the sport was the real reason we all wear the gear that we do. I tell that to people all the time on the Internet under various nom de plumes.

 

I’m talking about the one where you don’t carry your blood feud over onto another wrestling company’s show. I mean, yeah…technically no one in DEFIANCE knew that it was me, so it was more of a bending of the rule. But once I send this Elon Musk disguise via overnight mail to Ned’s house? I guess they’ll have to put me on trial for TURNBUCKLING TREASON, because everyone will know that it was Abe who caused the costly distraction!

 

“He still ended up winning the match, you moron,” Miserée called out from the kitchenette of the cramped apartment.

 

Is that so? Well you know what, Rée? It wasn’t about the match. It was to let him know that even if he thinks he can cut our war short by retiring from PRIME, that I can still afford tickets and airfare to other shows.

 

“You will have won the war if he retires, though. That’s kind of how wrestling wars are won,” she advised. “Your plan was to start a feud to gain notoriety within the organization, vaulting yourself into other opportunities. Literally that will have to happen after next week. Because he’s leaving.”

 

Oh. Wow, that’s weird, I don’t recall it being on the whiteboard that that’s what’s supposed to happen. Hey, remind me again, was this my plan or yours?

 

“Well, technically I’m your manager, aren’t I? So it’s my plan now.”

 

I didn’t acknowledge the response. She’d been asserting her role for the past couple of weeks ever since I threatened to fire the Black Metal Friends and just continue on as Me. I ended up changing my mind, though. Mostly because SELMA had given me a hip toss through our wooden coffee table and proceeded to try and keep her balance on my mind until I changed it. One day I’m going to show them, though. I’ll get my own apartment, one with a Ring at the door and a giant steel bar I can use to reinforce it in case they try to get in and assault me!

 

Anyway, as I was getting back to boxing up the mask, I received a text from one of my new fraternity brothers over at Hollywood State University. I know a lot of you thought that I was just making that place up, but let me assure you: HSU is real. And it just so happens that this text was going to allow me to prove it.

 

Much like any normal college, the home of the Fightin’ Celebrities has an active student body outside of the classroom. Which to be honest is the only real reason to go to college. Keggers, shots, and the occasional late night trip to the quad to make out under the stars. However, there’s always one person who solely exists to ruin fun on all fronts as much as humanly possible.

 

Ned Reform.

 

Just kidding. I mean, he is a wet blanket on an otherwise perfect picnic, but thankfully he can’t show up on every campus in the country. The bastion of boogers I’m talking about has many faces. It comes in many shapes. It has varying levels of back hair. But they all go by a single name.

 

DEAN.

 

And the Dean at Hollywood State? She was the Deaniest of all. A real stick in the mud who seemed to have it out for the fine fellows at the Cool Dudes Here fraternity. (Note: at Hollywood State, we do not use the Greek alphabet as one of the founders claimed that Herodotus was a liar and that it was them who attacked the Persians in 490 BC, not the other way around.) Now a lot of naysayers would argue that Dean Snorgret had given us a prior warning by issuing a probationary sentence from our involvement in the Great Underwear Snitchathon 2023 that left Sorority Row a pantiless wasteland for weeks. Personally, I had tried to convince the boys to take the crusade off campus, but they’d outvoted me when I suggested we all fly up to Chicago to start at a certain extremely hot someone’s house that shall not be named. But, we’d gotten busted big time when the campus police started searching for the missing clothing. We’d tried to eat the evidence, but only managed to choke down a few before they got to our door.

 

As for the text, I’d gotten so wrapped up in my quest to agitate Ned that I’d completely forgotten what day it was! The CDH had a disciplinary hearing in front of the Dean and the other members of the board today. This time, the prank was a little more personal. During a school-wide pep rally for the Fightin’ Celebrities undefeated badminton team, instead of showing a highlight reel of their master shuttlecockery, someone had replaced it with a film of Dean Snorgret turning the restroom stall into a doo-doo Pearl Harbor. Maybe if she hadn’t answered the phone while in there, no one would have known it was her. A shame that someone knew exactly the right moment to call it while someone else happened to be filming it from the sink area.

 

Yeah, I probably should have used a burner cell. Like I said, I’m pretty new to breaking the rules, so you can’t fault me for that. But that’s how we’d ultimately gotten the finger pointed at us for the incident. In a panic, I started to bolt out the door to get to the hearing. There was no time to waste – I might end up being late as it is!

 

But before I did, a thought occurred to me. I glanced down at my Elon Musk mask. Maybe I could get some more use out of this baby before I just shipped it off to Ned…

 

“…and as the Dean of Students and the final vote in the matter of the expulsion of the entire Cool Dudes Here fraternity from Hollywood State University, it gives me great pleasure to…”

 

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIT,” I squealed, barging through the door to the chambers of the auditorium and running down toward the dais. I took a quick glance around the scene to survey the vibe, immediately regretting my entrance decision. My fraternity brothers, none of whom looked too happy to see me, were sullen in expression. Other members of the student body had packed in to fill not only every seat but to stand in the side aisles. Awaiting the fate of the mischievous yet loveable scamps of me and my brethren, all here to show their support in the face of impending doom.

 

Hell, everyone looked miserable. Well, except for one person. Dean Snorgret and her stupid beehive updo appeared as though she was about to unwrap the sixth golden ticket. An upturned sneer slowly started to fade as she addressed the room’s new visitor.

 

“Well, Mr. L…”

 

“MY NAME IS ELON MUSK,” I yelled, cutting her off. “You may know me as the guy who owns the Three T’s of the Modern Age. Tesla, Twitter, and uh…the Texas Titty Twister! And I came here today in my new solar-powered bullet train to speak on behalf of these fine young men right here! Yes, before you decide to ruin their futures based on an ALLEGED exploitation of a certain administrator’s splatter painting onto white ceramic, I humbly ask that you hear me out.”

 

Dean Snorgret sighed, standing up to her feet and moving a globe out of the way of her line of sight. “Your fraternity already had their cha…”

 

“I INVENTED TESLA,” I bellowed, not allowing her to get the upper hand. To further reinforce my point, I snatched the globe away from the podium and examined it like a true scholar, pointing my index finger on Africa. “Ah, Senegal! Its capital is Dakar. Bet you didn’t know that, huh, Dean Snor-GRET?”

 

The Dean simply sat back down. Later I would learn that the disguise didn’t fool her, and she never for a second thought I was actually Elon Musk. I’d earned a reputation from her, mostly due to the fact that I mocked her right after the pep rally by standing on her Mercedes and pretending to have diarrhea all over it while saying “I’m you right now!” while laughing. Either way, she knew that any effort to get me to stop talking at this point would be wasted breath. Plus, she kind of fucking owed me for all the free publicity I’d been giving the college lately.

 

“That is something I learned by having a college education. One that you all set out to attempt to deny these students today. And for what reason? That they might have engaged in a little ribald activity? That they quite possibly could have had a hand in some good-natured practical joking? I stand here before you all to say this,” I declared, reaching my arms out to emphasize that this was a question for the entire audience. “Who else here has tied a friend’s shoelaces together, or given them the old ‘there’s something on your shirt’ gag only to flick them on the nose right after? Who among us has not ever extended their finger and encouraged another to pull it in order to release flatulence? Because that is exactly what you up there, Dean, are seeking to expel this fraternity for!”

 

“Well, Mr. Musk,” she replied, playing along for the sake of being the devil she was. “I disagree. My decision is final: all members of the CDH fraternity are hereby EXPE…”

 

“WAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!” I screamed, a last ditch effort. “Name any country in Africa. Any fucking one, and if I can tell you the capital? You can’t kick them out of Hollywood State. Deal?”

 

Dean Snorgret simply blinked at me. Then, surprisingly she shrugged her shoulders?

 

“Fine.”

 

Oh, YES. Yes yes yes yes yes! What a dumbass, I was totally going to keep us from getting expelled!

 

“Guinea-Bissau.”

 

Shit. The ONE country I’d had the hardest time learning the capital of, and my mind…it was going completely blank!

 

“…best two-out-of-three?”

 

“EXPELLED,” she laughed cruelly. “Now, kindly leave this campus or I shall have you all escorted out by the authorities!”

 

Yeah, she might have thought she’d gotten the last laugh out of that one. But I still took the globe with me when I left.

 

Who needs college, anyway? I’ve got Discovery Plus on the Roku.