(above: Fugger and The Mother, when we were doing the black thing)
The Mother is very useful. Without her I’d have died of malnutrition as an infant and she’s been a great help in many ways since, not least in the ring. As anyone aware of our wrestling careers can attest, The Mother and I have dished out a few pastings in our time. Together, we were the devastating tag team Oedipus Wrecks. We were greatly feared but, like any tag team, we had our share of gruelling matches. We’ve been sorely tested in the squared circle but when you’re getting a right battering from some huge bollix like The Undertaker, there is no one better to tag to than The Mother. You’d be bruised and delirious, wondering why you got into the ring in the first place, and crawling to the corner. You’d use up the last of your strength to stretch out your hand and The Mother would always be there for you, reaching back, tagging in. She’d give the bloody Undertaker a piece of her mind let me tell you and even if an opponent got her with a chair shot, The Mother always kicked out before the three count. Her moonsault from the top rope was a sight to behold too. Oh yeah. And even if we lost, as we sometimes did, she’d make sure we didn’t lose face by picking up a member of the winning team and slamming them through the Spanish announce table. There’d be boos from the audience alright but The Mother wouldn’t give a hoot. ‘Sure I couldn’t give a hoot’, she’d say over the microphone and then she’d high kick the referee in the face for good measure.
Oh, she’s a formidable woman The Mother and I just thought I’d salute her as her birthday is here again. She always wanted the music embedded below to be our entrance theme but the promoters thought it too melancholy. They gave us O Fortuna by Carl Orff instead. She was happy enough with that but here, as a tribute to The Mother, is the theme she would have preferred. This tune makes her go all weepy when she sits back and recalls fond memories, like the time she jumped from a twelve foot ladder and landed on a prone Cactus Jack who was laid out unconscious on a fold-out table beneath her. ‘Oh that learned him and no mistake’, The Mother says to herself as she wipes away a proud tear. So, hats off to The Mother and to The Mothers everywhere. They’re a very useful shower you must admit. Just keep them away from the refs or you’re looking at a suspension.
Oh and yeah, I know it’s Father’s Day and The Father was useful enough too (slyly throwing brass knuckles into the ring as he so often did) but Father’s Day was invented by some greedy card company or something and so should be ignored. Anyway, here’s the music. . .