Jonny Firestorm has been clawing his way back into the hearts and fantasies of BG East fans recently, and I’m here for it. He’s got just a little salt and pepper in his full beard that’s fucking hot! Match by match, he’s honing his beefy body impressively. I’ve seen him on social media say that he’s roaring back into fighting trim after an injury, and, fuck, yeah, can someone forward me the name of his personal trainer? Because I’m still stepping up my own workouts in the hopes of getting a shot at making Scott Williams whimper this summer, and I could use even a tenth of whatever it is Jonny’s recent gains.

One of his newest releases is Jobberpaloozer 21, “breaking in” fresh faced new kid Leroy Blaze. When I say “kid,” I mean, fuck, dude looks young and still growing into himself. He’s 6’0 and 150 pounds, and frankly, sometimes, I strongly suspect numbers like those are exaggerations. But in Leroy’s case, I’m a believer. Super lean. When Jonny and Leroy do a little impromptu mini-pose off at the top of the match, no shit, Jonny’s upper arm is something like 3 times as thick as Leroy’s. Like, I’m seriously worried about this kid. Knowing Jonny’s repertoire like we all do, I’m genuinely concerned that he’s going literally break Leroy, probably in multiple places. Are you sure you know what you’re getting to, buddy?

“Hey, I think I know your name,” Leroy muses out loud once Jonny deigns to show up a few minutes late. “You’re that ‘legend,’ right?” Leroy puts air quotes around the word legend. Oh. Shit. “What was the name, oh… yeah,” he says with a smirk (like, fuck, literally a smirk!). “I think the name is Stormfire Jonny. You’ve kicked a lot of people’s asses.” It’s about 45 seconds into the match, and I’ve just done a complete 180. In that instant that Leroy pulls out the air quotes, I’m literally muttering at the screen, “Oh, fuck him up, Jonny!”

There’s something impressive about a jobber who can make me really, really, really want to see him get clobbered. And I really, really, really want to see Leroy take it hard. There’s something even more impressive about a jobber who makes sure that the legendary heel he’s facing knows just how much he deserves ever ounce of abuse that Jonny can serve up. I do give Leroy credit for doing his homework. He catches Jonny’s telegraphed attempt to sucker-clothesline him to start things and smoothly turns the tables. And by “turns the tables,” I mean he runs roughshod over Jonny for a good 6 minutes or so. Like, even I’m almost questioning if Leroy’s on to something when he implies that Jonny is over the hill, he’s stayed too long at the party, and he’s living off of former glory and diehard fans. At one point, as Jonny’s huffing like a steam engine, the ultra lightweight smirker tosses his ass through the ropes, and Jonny’s back hits the edge of the ring apron so hard it’s giving me a case of sciatica. When Leroy presses his advantage, leaping from the top turnbuckle to slam into the wounded legend on the floor below, Jonny gasps from underneath him, “Fuck you!” And holy fuck, 150 pound Leroy, making his BG East debut, snarls into Jonny’s face the prediction that he’s the one that’s going to do the fucking around here!

So, yeah, when Leroy presses is advantage once too often, attempting a flashy body splash off the top turnbuckle again, and Jonny impales him on his fist as he’s careening through the air, I think I speak for absolutely everyone in the homoerotic wrestling universe when I say that Leroy deserves everything he’s about to get. This is Jonny, after all. He can’t have stayed too long at the party because, let’s face it, it’s his fucking party! And holy shit, he pulverizes the new kid like a bug on a windshield. I mean, it takes about 20 minutes of unrelenting merciless punishment, almost entirely targeting those seriously impressive washboard abs on Leroy, but slowly ever so gradually, I come back around full circle to finally feel bad for the newbie all over again.

The punishment is 90% high impact and vintage Jonny nastiness. At one point, he suspends the skinny little fucker upside down from a ladder and proceeds to beat the living shit out of his wasted abs with fists, claws, a shoe, and a medicine ball. He rubs the smartassness right out of Leroy (and, let me just reiterate, there’s a lot of smartassness in this rookie!), until he finally forces Leroy to call him by name. “You’re Jonny Firestorm! You’re Jonny Firestorm!” Let’s face it, he deserved everything up to that point. But, again, let me just repeat the harsh truth that Leroy just pointed out to us: this is Jonny-fucking-Firestorm, so there’s an added gratuity of another 10-15 minutes of unhinged brutality. I feel confident Leroy’s still got a bald spot where Jonny kept peeling him up by off the mat by a handful of hair (and Leroy, let me just assure you that bald is beautiful). He slingshots the kid back and forth by the elastic in his trunks so much that I’m feeling strongly compelled to bring back my Trunk Pull Tuesday tradition.

Somehow, my journey from worry for Leroy, to aching to seem him get pulverized, to a return to sympathy for him, finally reaches perfect harmony around the time that Jonny hoists the unconconcious rookie across one shoulder and marches him out of the ring room, in order to help Jonny “clean up.” Like, fuck. Win-win-win, right? Will we see armor-cored Leroy again? If so, will he dare be even half as much a smartass next time? I have to disagree with Jonny’s announcement that “No one likes a quitter,” when he’s spitting in disgust as Leroy begs him to let him go. But I totally agree with Jonny’s prediction, “Jobbers never learn.”