Will wonders never cease? Not long ago Billy Corgan outed himself as a Mercyful Fate fanboy able to correctly name the preeminent Black Sabbath record — that’s Sabbath Bloody Sabbath, kids — and now the 90’s alt-rock icon has formed his own pro-wrestling company — Resistance Pro — where he’ll serve as “creative director.” The promotion’s first show is scheduled for November 25 in Chicago and we thought Decibel readers might like a little preview of how it might all go down…
The JumboTron is still showing a livefeed of Billy Corgan’s latest Tweet war with Courtney Love — he has the Hole frontwoman apoplectic with his suggestion that not only is Fred Durst better at giving head, but that “Gold Cobra is a WAY sicker record than Nobody’s Daughter” and the Limp Bizkit frontman should marry Frances Bean to “unify the rock royalty bloodline” — when Cherub Rock, the little person wrestling duo comprised of veteran Rick “Hummer” Dixon and neophyte Shane “ Soma” Cook enter the ring to face off against The Siamese Nightmare. For much of the bout the wee warriors are overpowered as the dual-bodied Russian phenom spins, stomps, and caterwauls like a malevolent version of circa-Rocky IV Dolph Lundgren crossed with Shiva the Destroyer. When Siamese tosses Soma into the crowd with a derisive cry of “Spaceboy, I’ll miss you!” he inadvertently signs own death warrant. Soma tags in thirty-three members of the cast of Toddlers & Tiaras sitting with their mom’s in the third row — Cherub Rock mega-fans natch! They swarm the ring and hold Siamese down while the dread Mackenzie punches the giant repeatedly in the eye with her “ne-ne” — i.e. pacifier — until the ref jumps in to put an merciful end to the beating.
Corgan comes out strumming the opening chords of “Farewell and Goodnight.” Scattered boos turn to raucous cheers, however, when Disturbed join Corgan in the ring and the sissy ballad morphs into an amped up rendition of the song that holds the Guinness World Record for Most Populous Manchild Sing-a-Long, “Let the Bodies Hit the Floor.”
The bell rings for the second bout. Japanese sumo powerhouse Hitomi “Jellybelly” Takahashi flops down upon Zero, controlling the fight and very nearly suffocating the man affectionately dubbed the Redneck Avenger. Even the old standby chant of U…S…A! U…S…A! inexplicably fails to turn things around. An Appalachian superfan unwilling to see his hero lose after spending the past seven weeks canoeing to Chicago takes matters into his own hands: He tosses two rocks of the potent methamphetamine derivative Geek U.S.A. into the ring. Zero’s corner man tosses him a glass pipe, but, alas, the wrestler is unable to raise his hands to his mouth and he is forced to imbue the Geek as an anal suppository. After a few comatose seconds Zero bucks to life, reverses the position, and doles out the Silverfuck, a kind of modified flying clothesline that leaves the crowd silent and the Pay-Per-View audience at home involuntarily massaging their grundels. Not even Jellybelly inquires after the provenance of the mayonnaise-like substance coating his body when he comes to.
“Where boys fear to tread, indeed!” Billy intones, as the crew reluctantly mops the canvas.
The next match is the battle royale of acrobatic brawlers. [Continues after jump…]
Lou “Pisces Iscariot” Bonazelli and Jimmy “Piledriver with Butterfly Wings” Atlas collide mid-air several feet above the ring. Employing his signature Rocket charge Bonazelli repeatedly bullies Atlas into the padded corner turnbuckles, maintaining an early advantage until Atlas’ ladyfriend (and fellow pro-wrestler) Blithe “Luna” Fontayne flashes her Aphrodite-rivaling breasts at him. Momentarily mesmerized Bonazelli is taken down via a mule kick before being utterly disarmed — not with a smile, but a bionic elbow smash.
Atlas isn’t out of the woods yet, though: Courtney Love flies into the ring in an off-white dress like an unemployed angel on day four of an epic bender and mounts his head like a gargoyle. She is still shouting demands for Atlas to lead her to whatever pizza parlor currently employs Eric Erlandson so she can retrieve the Hole songs hidden in his head as Luna helps security escort her out.
“What a maroon!” Billy tweets.
After a brief intermission Bob “Mellon Collie” Urbansky attempts to lay his trademark Infinite Sadness on thick-necked Eddie “Rhinoceros” Douglas. Urbansky fails to anticipate the power of the improv skills Douglas has been steadily acquiring at his Second City night classes, however. Rhino’s fans begin shouting out prompts. The burly wrestler goes with “ham sandwich,” “nerd spooge,” and “rubber chicken attack.” Before long Urbasky is on his knees in agony from the belly laughs. Rhino pantomimes across the ring in saucy imitation of the hippo ballerina from Fantasia then kicks Urbansky’s teeth down his giggling gullet.
It has been an action packed evening for Resistance Pro fans, but none of the action thus far has adequately prepared them for the main event.
The JumboTron rumbles to life with images of James Iha and D’arcy arriving backstage at what they believe to be a reunion of the classic Smashing Pumpkins line-up. Upon exiting their dressing room they are ushered into the ring and find themselves face to face with Billy “Suffer” Corgan. Despite the fact that the band leader is guitar-less and wearing a Mexican wrestler costume with a giant “B” emblazoned on the front, James Iha begins the opening warble of “Today” anyway, that damn curtain of hair obscuring the ass-whupping coming his way. Lucky for Iha D’arcy not only has several years of resentment pent up beneath that absurdly tight baby doll dress, she has also spent her post-Pumpkins years breaking horses on some East Bumfuck farm out in Crazyville County. The bassist’s rolling wheel kick morphs easily into several scissor kicks. Things are looking pretty grim for Billy…
…but wait! Who just catapulted into the ring? Oh. My. Gawd. It is Smashing Pumpkins latest Nameless Jailbait Bassist! She grabs the announcer’s mic and begins reading passages from the Corgan’s 2006 poetry collection, Blinking with Fists, in a slam poetry-esque stream of hippity-hoppy. Corgan’s tears flow. Sobs echo off the walls. D’arcy continues to pummel for a few moments, but the fire goes out of her punches and soon she is unable to continue dishing out punishment the crestfallen man, no matter how pissed she may still be about the Adore touring cycle. The crowd boos — they want to see a finish. D’arcy seizes the mic from her umpteenth replacement. The girl resists and D’arcy lays her out with a right hook perfected on trees that eye her funny. (Especially those damn oaks.) “No, Melissa Auf der Maur is she?” D’arcy asks. The crowd titters appreciatively and even Billy, now hugging his knees to his chest and rocking back and forth in the corner, shrugs his shoulders as if to say, Eh, she kinda has a point…
A new chant begins: Tap him out! Tap him out!
“Look,” D’arcy says, “Billy knows he is responsible for Zeitgeist. That is punishment enough.”
The crowd murmurs reluctant assent. D’arcy leaves the stage. Iha, displaying a physiological obliviousness previously unseen in homo erectus, launches into “Tonight, Tonight.” Courtney Love, having only just escaped the clutches of security, joins him in the ring, and begins singing Rage Against the Machine lyrics over the track in a sort of doo-wop-meets-quaaludes style before launching into a long convoluted rant about Jim Carrey’s wee cock and how life has never been the same after that asshole Reznor sent her up on “Starfuckers Inc.”
Iha finishes the song, waves goodbye, and tells the crowd he’ll see them next time. Love asks the remaining audience members for directions to Zero’s after party and, when they demur, she offers to trade rights to certain lesser songs in the Nirvana catalog for Percocets.
