If you’d asked me last week which classic BG East wrestler a young, green, newbie Jonny Firestorm would have most admired when he first arrived at BG East, most wanted to follow in his footsteps, it would not have been Christopher Bruce. Kid Leopard, probably. Kid Vicious, maybe. BBW, possibly. But Christopher Bruce? Never. Then I watched Fan Fantasy 2.
Jonny is fucking bouncing on the balls of his feet, he’s so excited when Christopher Bruce walks into the ring room. He’s actually a little breathless, slightly tongue-tied, he’s so excited. His crotch is tented like Mt. Rainier, for god’s sakes, he’s so fucking excited! He whips out a classic Christopher Bruce pin-up boy shot from years ago.
Yeah, I’ve lost some fluids over that very shot, too, Jonny. I can so easily see how a young, homoerotic wrestling fan/aspiring wrestler would be star struck to see sensational hottie Christopher in real life. But when Jonny says he’s trying to pattern his career after the notorious muscle jobber, I choked on my tea. This cannot be happening.
Fan Fantasy 2 was clearly shot several years ago. In the evolving incarnations of Jonny’s physique, this is obviously one of his earliest matches. He’s incredibly lean, tight, just atop the minimum age requirement. I swear that mammoth bulge in his trunks quivers just a little when Christopher signs the pic especially for him, wishing him best of luck in his career. Jonny is practically gagging for the start of this match, to lock up with a fantasy man he’s studied lustfully for years. Who the fuck would have guessed!?
Dreaming of meeting your “idol,” your “hero” as Jonny calls Christopher, turns out to be significantly different than actually, in real life, squaring off against the likes of Christopher Bruce. Christopher looks like he’s right about the shape he was in when he made his epic comeback facing down, then looking way up at, Cole Cassidy in Demolition 10. He’s the perfect example of a hot, hard young hunk of man meat who, in my opinion, turns about 250% hotter with a few more years, a lot of devotion to building his body, and a calm, cool maturity. He takes Jonny’s frothing fanaticism in stride. He’s humble. Like a class act, he offers the newbie some advice about succeeding in the cutthroat world of BG East wrestling. When Jonny keeps wanting to show off his own hard trained muscles for Christopher’s appraisal, the veteran keeps reminding him that it’s the fans on the other side of the camera he needs to please, not his opponent. Fuck, I love Christopher Bruce.
They lock up. Push, shove, and Christopher abruptly hoists Jonny off his feet and sends him flying into the next zip code. At first, Jonny chuckles, still awed at all that power that he’d only dreamed of before. That was fucking awesome, he thinks. Until Christopher does it to him again. And again. And then scoop slams him again, and again, and again, just about burying the newbie several inches deep into the mat. The look of slack jawed adoration evaporates, and a look of bitter resentment at being completely muscle bullied takes its place.
I love every second I’ve ever seen of Christopher Bruce in charge. He’s like a gorgeous landslide starting off slow and deliberate and building a completely crushing head of steam. When Jonny tries a defensive wedgie, trapped in Christopher’s bearhug, the veteran muscle jobber snarls with contempt and shrugs it off. How many opponents have desensitized him to the shocking discomfort of getting his balls squeezed and his crack flossed? He’s just so damn dominant in size, in cool confidence, in raw power. I’m always a sucker for a punk ass kid getting fucked up hard by a savvy, seasoned veteran. But then again, I’m a full blown Christopher Bruce fan, so I’m obviously not exactly uninspired to see Jonny drop the handsome muscleman to his knees with several choice, nasty punches to his vulnerable testicles.
Once Jonny has turned the corner, once he’s set aside his childish ways, no longer humbled to just be sharing the same ring with his long-time idol, the shit gets real, real fast. We’ve seen Christopher brutalized. A lot. But I can’t remember ever seeing an opponent put the hunk on his back, spread his oak tree thighs wide, and not just jump onto his balls with both feet, but stay there, pulverizing poor Christopher’s delicate jewels. This is the Jonny we’ve come to know and love, not the slack jawed fan creaming over an autograph, but the vile, merciless, almost feral lightweight heel who carves up massive musclejobbers like Christopher Bruce like a Thanksgiving turkey.
Discounted heel versus naive muscle jobber. It’s a formula we’ve seen before. And still there’s a lot here that takes me by surprise, makes me gasp, and reminds me all over again how supremely fantastic both of these wrestlers are at doing what they do best. The only box not yet ticked for me is to see an opponent worship Christopher Bruce’s unbelievably sexy body even half as devotedly as I do, though I do love seeing how deep down excited Jonny is to tell this story. A catchweight train wreck like this is top notch, powerfully arousing, and perfectly on point.