Chapter 22: Create-a-Wrestler: Tommy Wiseau

To say Tommy Wiseau, famed director that he is, had Twilight on the ropes in his first ever wrestling match would be an understatement. She was nearly dead, and there was very little she or anyone could do about it. However it may have been in his French blood to attempt to murder a horse. But just how did this bizarre film director/toy smuggler come to bring an undefeated wrestler to her four knees? Well it all started a long time ago. . . Last night.

Of course, this isn’t Tommy’s story so this Frenchman's already anonymous and vague origins shall be left to secret. What did happen though was one day Tommy found himself in the WWE offices and across an elaborate and expensive table of pure ivory was Vince McMahon.

“You see, they rawb from me and I am thuh fool. I need thisuh break so I can make more egg breakfasts for mah waif.”

“Let me just get this straight. So you say you want some publicity for your next film so you can make up the money you lost off of pirated copies of your other films?” Vince pinched the arch of his nose and shook his head. “Tommy, you’re a terrible businessman.”

“Nuh uh! I was selling duh bloogenes in duh France and toys to tourists when I wus younguh. You are so liek everyone else! Everyone betray me! I am fed up with this world!” The large Frenchman got out of his seat and started throwing his arms all over the place. This happened to catch Vince’s ever discerning eye.

“Suicidal tendencies, unintelligible English, betrayal. . . Hmmm.” Vince then got up and slammed his fists on the desk. “Tommy, WWE might not be the right fit for you but you would be perfect for our competitors, TNA Wrestling!”

Tommy then immediately regained his composure. “But I don’t wahn to be a wrestler! I wahn to be movie star!”

“Everybody starts somewhere. But I tell you what, I’ll let you publish a movie with WWE and all you have to do is one little favor.”

“Hauh?”

“Fight Twilight Sparkle and win.”

Twilight Sparkle didn’t get a whole lot of details for her upcoming match, but from the sound of it she should have absolutely no problem since her opponent didn’t have any lousy gimmicks or anything. As such, she had a better spring to her step when she strolled along the hallway, and was just so happy that she felt like greeting everybody along the way.
“Hi Rey!” She said to the small luchadore doing aerobic exercises on his own. “Hello Kane!” She called out to the tall, burly, bald-headed, big teddy bear of a man with a goofy expression on his face. “Hey there Sexual Chocolate!”

This last remark was directed to Mark Henry, who earned the right to be called the strongest man in the world. He looked up briefly at Twilight, but was late enough to only watch her pass by and continue greeting others. He gave her a fair warning on day one, and made sure that she knew how he felt about being called that. Those painful memories of his initial appearances drilled their way from the recesses of his mind foremost and caused him distinct anguish that was hidden behind massive tendon and glistening skin.

He would not let this transgression go unpunished.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Friday night RAW! I’m your host Jim Ross.”

“And I’m Jerry ‘The King’ Lawler, and tonight we got a special treat for our fans who also enjoy independent movies.

“Shut your mouth, King! Kids could be watching!”

“Not those kinds of movies. Well, maybe a little.”

“And so tonight, folks, we got ourselves the Fancy Pants Filmmaker, Tommy Wise-hat.”

“Wiseau.”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

And so accompanied by the French National Anthem, which was composed of blaring sirens and enormous bellowing from comedian Jerry Lewis, came Tommy Wiseau dressed in his finest tuxedo onto the ramp and strutting his way on to the stage.

“Also, naturally he’s going to try his hand against the rising superstar, Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight Sparkle’s appearance, as per the usual, was far less elaborate and simple, yet still ushered in a surprisingly well received response from the crowd. So with these cheers from the fans, she clambered her way up to the stage with a microphone and stood face-to-waist with the giant Frenchman.

“So before we get started,” Twilight Sparkle began. “I’d like to know a little bit about you. Why are you here?”

“Ah don’t think I will ever get it. In mah world, I am busy person. I have script to write, and make into films! And now I be superstar wrestler.” And then looking over the head of Twilight, which wasn’t particularly difficult, he then said “Oh hai Mahk.”

“Huh?” Twilight then turned her face around to see the massive Mark Henry.

He punched her, once. Mark Henry sent his fist flying straight at Twilight Sparkle’s face and it landed perfectly on her snout. This powerful blow sent Twilight flying right into the ropes, bouncing off of them, and then flattening herself on the ring. Mark Henry then took his departure and left Tommy Wiseau in the ring with a beaten, bruised, and barely conscious horse.

“Twilight, no! Get up, Twilight! Come on, you gotta get up!” Shouted Jerry Lawler from behind his desk.

“Simmer down, King. Wrestlers win and lose all the time.”

So then Jerry stood up and started chanting while clapping his hands. “Get up, Twilight!” Clap clap clap. “Get up, Twilight!” Clap clap clap. And it was not long before the crowd began to join in with the same action.

But Tommy took the advantage and began kicking her in the ribs delicately but repeatedly. “You’re just a little pony, cheep cheep cheep cheep!” He said, chirping like a bird.

But as the chants grew and grew, Twilight’s ears perked up and her awareness returned to her. Tommy’s over-abundance of confidence, however, allowed Twilight to fully regain her senses and shove Tommy flat on his rear end.

“That was a dirty trick, Tommy! Things would’ve been a lot better if you were fair when you hit me. Now, it’s personal.”

Tommy was then agasp and crawled his way to the side of the ring facing the announcer’s table. “I did naut heet her! I did naut!” Tommy protested. He then remembered he was in a wrestling match and turned back to Twilight. “Oh hai, horsey.”

Twilight kicked him in the face. Hard. She then bit on to one of his ankles and dragged him to the center of the ring. With the giant Frenchman knocked silly and face-down, Twilight sat on his back, hiked his arms backwards so that they stayed on her rear thighs, and wrapped her forehooves under his chin and pulled back.

“That’s right, Twilight! Give him the Camel Clutch! Make him give up!”

Tommy’s face went red with excruciating pain. As loud as he could, he yelled out “YOU’RE TEARING ME APART, TWILIGHT!” And he began tapping pathetically on Twilight’s leg, signalling that he was in fact giving up.

Twilight released Tommy Wiseau and rejoiced in her victory. But after the cheering began to subside, she took up the discarded microphone. “I’d like to thank you all for helping me with this match. Without the support of all of you, I might not have been able to get back up, so thanks.” She then pointed at the announcer’s table. “And I’d like to give you special thanks. I heard you giving me that support, and starting that chant, I would’ve definitely lost to this unfair match. So thanks, a lot,” Jerry Lawler was getting absolutely giddy in his seat and was on the verge of fainting, and all she needed to do was say his name. “Thank you, JR!”

Jerry Lawler felt his heart drop and he was like “Wait, what? No!”

But Jim Ross was just rolling with it. “Yeah, no problem, kid.”

And with this Twilight finally left the ring and headed back on the ramp to go backstage, all the while Jerry held his hand out in utter futility, grasping at the air. “No, it was me, though!” But not a soul would give him credit. “Aw man.”

Author's Note

Oh King, senpai shall never notice you.