9/15/2011:
Oh, dear. Dear, oh, dear, oh, dear. Woe is me, even! (Reminder to self: Inquire about 7-11 sponsorship.
I have, after all, been unable to get rid of this “big gulp” in my throat for days – may as well profit from it.)
There can be no doubt Marchie Archie, CHIKARA’s resident conductor of electricity, possesses intellectual prowess
tantamount to Dr. Emmett Brown sitting aboard Brainiac’s starship in a t-shirt of Einstein sticking his tongue out
while watching Baby Geniuses on LaserDisc. Mere misgivings become mighty matters in such a mind. On this
occasion, however, the mighty matters are being mulled over not by the master maestro but his muse – indeed,
March Madness’ very heart and soul: the lovely Veronica.
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I have said before that you do not want to see Veronica when she is angry; that being the case, you do not want
to see her now. And not for aesthetic reasons. Even when contorted to express the most extreme of enmity,
hers is a countenance which would make Helen of Troy self-conscious. But scorn on that same face is enough to
turn a man to stone, evoking memories of Medusa instead. (Medusa of Greek antiquity – not to be confused with former
WCW Cruiserweight Champion of American antiquity, Madusa.)
Understandably, Veronica is nary pleased to be associated with a loser. A woman of her caliber deserves only
the finest at her side. (As a professional associate, that is. That is what I was talking about – nothing more.
We are just friends, Veronica and I. Why would one think anything else?) As such, my recent loss has brought
great shame upon this opera house. There is no use in trying to explain to her the disruption in the space-time
continuum – it must be atoned for...in the form of a gift.
Veronica lost her smile at Young Lions Cup IX, but she gets it back at "Small But Mighty" when March Madness
debuts...our new mascot!
AP
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