Many years ago, the three of us were toiling in Mexico fighting 6-man lucha matches in the alleys behind bars, when Pancho came to the realization. “Guys,” said Pancho, “we’re never going to make any real dinero fighting in the back alleys behind cantinas here in our homeland of Mexico. What we need to do is sneak over the massive wall on the American border I keep hearing about, and make our name in the world of American pro wrestling.”
“It sounds like an excellent plan,” said Sancho. “I have heard a great many things about the great American Eric Bischoff who is famous for taking our countrypeople and turning them into big stars in the US. He will surely line our pockets with gold and never fire us via FedEx.”
“We must find the mythical Eric Bischoff! That is the way to attain great fame like the legendary Gambler and our fellow Mexican, the Renegade. To America!” said Melvin, our third tag team partner. And with that, we fired our pistolas into the air and we saddled up our burros and rode to the north.
Well, to cut an epic story short, we arrived, met with Eric Bischoff, got a job, and began to realize the dream of appearing one day in the WCW magazine. Unfortunately we were buried on Nitro, between a 30-minute Kevin Nash promo and the dancing Mujeres de Nitro. We were matched in a 3-on-2 handicap match against the team of Larry Zybyzsko and Kevin Sullivan and sadly, we came up short in our first struggle in the US.
The fan reaction to us was mild at best; on our first appearance we were pelted with eggs, tomatoes and other random grocery items. Sancho’s mask was ripped off by a child with Down Syndrome at ringside. We went back to our dressing room, defeated, to discover that we had been, indeed, fired by Mr. Bischoff via FedEx.
Today, our dreams of being American wrestling stars having been shattered,it is now our mission to shame and ridicule all that sucks about pro wrestling. All three of us work in a meatpacking plant on the Lower West Side of Manhattan, and we have adopted similar but bastardized names of wrestlers in order to disguise our true identities from the American pigs who constitute the American wrestling fanbase: Blogger T, Blogger Brody and Buff Blogwell with occasional contributions from Abdullah the Blogger and Miss Eliziblog. Also we speak no English — everything written on this blog is translated from Mexican by the legendary Charo, who is our immediate supervisor at the meatpacking plant.