Barbed Wire Bill and the Cleveland Chaos
It all started with a stupid instant message:
"Dude you’re a wrestling booker right?"
Next thing I know I have been talked into putting together a show for some "mark" in Cleveland. Now, he was a nice guy and all, but knew nothing at all about setting up or promoting a show. So we started at square one; who to book? What wrestlers would he like to see? What wrestlers did he think would draw a large crowd in his area? What type of venue would we have to do it in? All of that shit was noted, and then work began on my end.
I made the calls and set up an old school main event of King Kong Bundy vs. Jimmy "Superfly" Snuka. The venue was set and it was a great location - the Agora Ballroom. The promoter decided we had a great main event and that we needed to have something for everyone, so back to the phone I went.
A couple of days later I had locked down Indy nut case Mad Man Pondo and some kid that would roll in broken glass and barbed wire with him. The promoter said, “What about getting a band to appear and help draw in some of that demographic?” Thru a friend of a friend I find out that Gwar are marks and would be interested in appearing, and actually doing a Gwar vs. Gwar match. So the dude in Cleveland is pumped and excited. As a favor I also booked Headshrinker/SST'er Samu and some up-and-coming kids to round out the card.
The promoter is calling me every hour all day long asking for advice, I tell him how to deal with the venue, how to deal with the ticket printing etc. I suggest that we work out a deal with Gwar and a local record store to do an autograph signing, as a swap to get them to be a ticket outlet.
So we have talent booked? Check. We have a decent venue set? Check. Do we have a couple of decent ticket outlets? Check. Everything is set and my plane ticket is already in my hands. Paid vacation in Cleveland here I come!
A week before the show I get a late night phone call; it's the promoter…
"DUDE! Bundy is refusing to come a day early to save on airfare!!! To change the flight is gonna cost me an extra 200!”
"So do you want me to deal with it?”
"No, I will handle it."
"Okay dude, but don’t get in over your head, that’s what I'm here for."
Fast forward to 8.00 am. Phone rings, and I pick up: “WHAT?"
"Yeah Bill, this is Chris.”
"Chris fuckin' who? Do you have any fucking idea what time it is?”
"Chris ‘King Kong Bundy’, and I'm sorry if I woke ya!"
"So what can I do for ya?”
"Well Jeff in Cleveland wants me to fly in a day early to save him on airfare."
"So??"
"Well, I don’t want to. I'm only doing this as a favor for (name withheld)."
"Well, I'm sorry Chris, but he has a budget, and if you can’t fly in, then we are over and can’t do the show."
“I can’t. I have to ref mud wrestling in Canada the day before."
"Well, see if you can stay the whole weekend, because we don’t need ya."
"THAT’S BULLSHIT! IF YOU’RE GONNA CANCEL ME I WANT HALF THE MONEY!"
“What? Are you running short of Turtle Wax for the dome, dude? No work, no pay, No WAY!"
Click went the phone line.
I called Jeff and told him to be strong, that I had cancelled Bundy, and that if Bundy contacts him to NOT AGREE TO PAY SHIT! Two hours later Jeff is on the line, telling me he sent Bundy half his pay to avoid "heat" with him. Mistake number one…
So we are going to run with Samu vs. Jimmy Snuka. It’s a Samoan Death Match (HAHAHAHA).
Five days before the show, Jeff's calling me again: "DUDE!!! THE AGORA WANTS MORE MONEY AND THEY ARE FREAKING OUT ABOUT SOME OF THE MATCHES!"
"Tell them to relax and I will handle shit when I get to town in two days."
"Okay."
Three hours later Jeff is back, clogging my phone with more "Dude! I told the Agora to fuck off and got us another venue. It doesn’t hold as many people but it's cheaper."
"What? I told you to wait and not talk to them until I got there!"
"Dude they made me cave."
"Okay, so where we doing this at?”
"A really nice banquet hall, 40 miles outside of Cleveland."
At that point I knew I was fucked and that my vacation to Cleveland was ruined.
So I arrive in Cleveland with my buddy Maxx Payne. Jeff arrived at the airport - late of course.
Finally, we arrive at the hotel and the party starts. At one point during the night we had 20 some odd people in our room. The booze is flowing, the weed is excellent and a good time is being had by all. And in the middle of it all I have Jeff tugging at my sleeve:
“Dude, check out our poster!"
I look and see it’s a nice poster with the Agora Ballroom X'd out, and the new venue in small hand written letters over it. Before the tears had a chance to flow from my eyes we are told that the boys in Gwar have arrived. The party kicks into high gear as Hunter Jackson (Techno), Brad (Jizmak), Dave Brockie (Oderous), Derks (?) and a couple of Slaves join us.
Next morning it's time for a trip to Shoney's for the Breakfast Buffet with Gwar and a ton of hungry wrestlers. We hit that place hard. During the meal the Gwar boys come over and give me their check since we are popping for their meals. I go to find Jeff and give it to him. He sees me coming with it and yells: "DUDE I GOTTA GO PUT POSTERS OUT, TAKE CARE OF IT AND I WILL PAY YA BACK WHEN I GET BACK!" The next time I saw that son of a bitch was at 2:00 am, without my money.
So now my paid “Vacation in Cleveland” has turned into my “Vacation in Cleveland buying Gwar food”.
Show Day is finally here. I can’t wait for this shit to be over. The last three days have been spent trying to fix all the little bullshit that has come up. Things are pretty uneventful, except trying to keep Snuka from visiting the local crack houses. The show starts and things are running along. Snuka sees a couple of boys taping light tubes together and getting the barbed wire ready. So he pulls me aside and says "Brutha, I cant work after that shit, I don’t wanna step on broken glass that might be left on the mat!"
So I tell him “No problem Jimmy, You can go on after the next match.” At which point Dave and Hunter, in full GWAR gear, start walking towards the door to the crowd. Jimmy Snuka grabs me again and says:
"Look at dem brutha! I can’t follow dat. I'd rather walk on broken glass!"
by
Barbed Wire Bill
