I Went To Suplex City And The Mayor Was A Total Dick
When Paul Heyman announced that one lucky winner of the Brock Lesnar sweepstakes would get an all-expenses paid trip to Suplex City, I never thought I’d actually win. But I did, and within a week I was on a plane headed to my dream destination (and with the exception of an F5 tornado, the ride was as smooth as an Eddie Guerrero hurricanrana).
What Exactly Do You Eat before You Suplex and Repeat?
The restaurants in Suplex City were pretty chaotic. I hopped into a Jimmy John’s (all the restaurants were Jimmy John’s) and it was really hard to get my complimentary Gourmet Frenchie. Every time someone got to the front of the line, the person behind them was required by law to “German suplex the hangry out of them” (there were signs about it everywhere). Even though I was semi-concussed, I remember the sandwich being super tasty.
My Name Is … What?
You know those “Hello My Name Is…” stickers? Well in Suplex City everyone has one, and I guess everyone’s name is Paul Heyman. Even me.
The Kimura Lock and Key to the City
When I got to City Hall, everyone was there, even the mayor! He was a bald Monopoly-guy-type. He greeted the crowd to thunderous applause (or a “big pop” as I like to call it). Before handing me the key to the city, he began amping up the crowd with all sorts of pro-Suplex rhetoric. Then, he put me on the spot and asked me what my favorite type of suplex was. Almost instinctually, I responded, “Dragon. Dragon suplex.”
Yeah, that started a riot.
Pro-tip for anyone who gets a chance to go to Suplex City: If the mayor asks you what your favorite suplex is, stick with German. Trust me, the alternative is not pretty. Also, screw that mayor for trying to use me as his political puppet … and for blindsiding me with that big-ass brass key when I was trying to run away from all the craziness.
I ducked into a movie theatre to ice my battered body. I figured they’d feature some of Brock Lesnar’s best matches, but it was just that GIF of Brock dancing with the Money in the Bank briefcase pretending it’s a boom box, over and over again. The theater was jam-packed and everyone was really into it, but I had to bail after twenty minutes. The audience booed me hard for leaving.
Meet and Greet with The Beast
I was really excited to finally meet Brock Lesnar himself. Would it hurt if he shook my hand? Would he even want to shake my hand? Would he be wearing those giant UFC gloves? Would he teach me how to properly execute a suplex, or a contract that compromises a decade’s worth of talent on any given roster in any given era? Maybe we’d get matching buzz cuts, or he’d teach me how to unequivocally conquer diverticulitis. Would he let me hold the Universal Title Belt?
No to all of that.
I waited … and waited … and I guess the rumors are true. Even in his hometown of Suplex City, Brock only shows up like once or twice a month.