The Killer Bees

July 12th, 2005 Posted in 2005

I was chatting online with Pete Lynn last night, and he mentioned a horse-hater blog he thought I should check out. The blog itself was kind of funny, if a bit repetitive — of far greater hilarity, though, was a picture in one of the blog posts of old school professional wrestlers The Killer Bees:

It’s not their awful gimmick that I found so funny (though it is). It was more just their expressions in the photo. Those Killer Bees look pretty damned pleased with themselves — moreso than I’d be, anyway, if I was standing next to an almost entirely naked man in matching bee-themed Speedos. I suspect the look on my face would be closer to this:

HORRIFIED

This prompted Pete to remember a childhood anecdote (which you can read here) involving a younger, more WWF-obsessed Pete and a 976 Wrestling Hotline. This got me laughing even harder — the mere idea of an actual hotline for professional wrestling information was almost as funny as guys in bee-colored underwear (a concept already brimming with comedy). I loved imagining what sort of clientele the service being provided here might service — people, evidently, who required wrestling information. Wrestling information of such vital urgency that it could not be obtained through any means but a 24-hour emergency hotline. Still funnier than this: Pete was apparently one of these people.

According to Pete’s anecdote, the hotline was a sham; forking over $2 a minute only earned him the pre-recorded voices of the Killer Bees, twice. (”This is B. Brian Blair!” “And this is Jumping Jim Brunzell!” both times.) I don’t buy this, on the grounds that I can’t conceive of any time where the Killer Bees wouldn’t be willing to man phones for mimimum wage. Rather, I believe B. Brian Blair and Jumping Jim were pros through and through, and just meticulously rehearsed their introductions.

Even if it was pre-recorded, you have to wonder if the Killer Bees paused long enough in their recording to mimic a conversation, hoping to accurately guess the caller’s question. “Thank you! We like wrestling very much!” … “We got to be wrestlers through hard work and practice!” … “No, we’re not fags!”

At any rate. Even though Pete’s anecdote lacked a great third act twist — my vote: “So I phoned again. But it was too late. The Killer Bees were dead.” — it nonetheless prompted me to come up with my own questions I would ask the Killer Bees if granted an audience. I can’t see it ever coming up, really; but if it did, wouldn’t you rather be able to pull out a list from your wallet than sit there fumbling like an idiot?

THINGS I WOULD LIKE TO ASK THE KILLER BEES

“Can I come live with you?”
“Can you suplex my mom until she raises my allowance?”
“Can you tell me more about current feuds?”
“Is Nicolai Volkoff really an asshole?”
“Is it true Jumping Jim Brunzell broke a carrot off in his ass one time?”
“what’s the deal with Hulk Hogan?”
“Do you sometimes feel the need to just hug Andre the Giant and whisper ‘I’m sorry’?”
“When you’re in the change room, do you have to look at Captain Lou naked? Is that as awful as I think it would be?”
“When he showers, does he carefully hang up his elastic bands on a towel hook, or just use new bands?”
“Do you think he goes through a lot of rubber bands?”
“With all the dirt and grit sluicing off him into the shower drain and clogging it, are his gym fees higher?”
“Does ‘Mouth of the South’ mean what I THINK it means?”

I wonder where the Killer Bees even are right now, and if they ever lived up to their namesake. By this I mean to ask if they ever eventually became bees. I’d like to think yes.
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Added July 15th, 2005: JP.com reader Michiel emailed me a picture of pro wrestlers the Rockers as evidence that the Killer Bees didn’t have a monopoly on embarrassing gimmicks:

I agree that’s much, much worse. At least the Killer Bees were faithful to their dumbass premise: they were killer bees, and their adorable little yellow-and-black briefs helped to buttress this claim (as well as their crotch business). I have no idea how the Rockers’ bizarre constuming choice in any way signifies rocking, however. Unless “rocker” is some vague 80’s term for sucking vast amounts of cock in the bathroom of a dance studio, that is — in which case, Mission Accomplished, Rockers!

Their outfits looked oddly familiar, actually, and I was wracking my brain trying to figure where I’d seen their color schemes and wrist rainbows before. Then it hit me:

Scary, innit?
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Added July 15th, 2005:

JP.com reader M.D. Vega writes in with still more wrassin’ info. (The insinuation that my readership consists exclusively of people with encyclopedic knowledge of professional wrestling factoids is not lost on me.) A full half of the Killer Bees, B. Brian Blair, has dropped his prominent first initial (which stands, I can only assume, for “Bee”) and is currently running for Commissioner in Hillsborough County, Florida.

It feels a bit like a low rent version of Jesse “The Body” Ventura’s gubernatorial bid (even in matters of regional politics, poor B. Brian’s a bit of a jobber.) Still, you have to respect the man’s aspirations. You also have to marvel a little at the picture of Blair they chose to run with; he’s either right in the middle of a decision to grow a moustache, or Brian Blair only gets five o’clock shadow on the upper lip of his face. Either way, you think they could have held off on the photoshoot until he’d committed to the moustache or shaved. I suspect that the voters of Hillsborough County demand a Commissioner capable of making the tough calls on a daily basis — qualities a candidate unsure of his commitment to a simple moustache looks unable to provide.

Similarly waffly is Blair’s featured soundbite: “I CARE about our children, our community, our elderly and our future… but most important, I live it every day!” Inspiring, of course, though it begs the question of what specifically Mr. Blair is living every day, and why he believes it to be of paramount importance. The children? The elderly? He lives in the community every day, I guess — though I can’t imagine this is much of a challenge, and hardly proof of Blair’s Commissioning chops.

Personally, I think Brian’s got it all wrong. He’s enormous, well-muscled, great at fighting and experienced with wearing costumes. To hell with Commissioner — Blair should be campaigning to become Hillsborough County’s resident superhero.