Vince Russo is an absolute SMUCK. He’s everything that everybody says about him. You know how I know? Because the A-hole created me 20 years ago, just to take all the heat off himself.
Let me formally introduce myself–my name is Victor Venomecchi, and I used to write for the WWF Magazine about 20 years ago. At the time, I was considered to be cuttin’ edge, dangerous, out-of-control, but now—everybody’s doin’ it. They all copied my style, especially that Bozo Mark Madden. Yeah, I was ahead of my time. I called it like I saw it, not carin’ what I said, or what the implications would be. Yeah, I knew the big man upstairs, Vinnie Mac, was going to read what I had to say about his product at the time, but I really didn’t give a pile of hippo !@#$%. If he had a problem with me—he could have written a letter to the freakin’ editor—RUSSO! And, that jag-off wouldn’t have done nothin’–and even if he did–I could have bagged the gig of permanent editor of the Penthouse Forum section if I wanted to—no sweat—–man, do I have some stories I can tell!
But, let’s get back to that lying, conniving, slob of a man Russo. Whereas I’m thankful that he gave me life, I’m resentful that I had to be his scapegoat. That’s right, just like the blow-hard is taking the fall as the TNA scape goat these days—I have no pity for him because he did the same to yours truly after he unleashed me from his sick mind. You see—here was Russo’s gimmick—at the time of my inception, Russo HATED the WWF product. He thought it was downright pathetic. And, to be straight here—I really can’t say I blame him. I mean, we’re talkiin’ the plumma with the ass-crack—rememba him? What about the guy with the GINORMUS buffalo head who couldn’t even get between the ropes wearin’ that thing? Russo was right—the WWF SUCKED at that time!
Now, I get it, he had that naggin’ wife and his bratty brats to feed, and, no matter how much he despised what he was watchin’ on WWF TV, he had to tread carefully because he couldn’t afford to lose his job. But, Russo, Russo could just never keep his mouth shut–you know–that’s how us I-talians are—so, he had to figure out a way to make his opinion known—while protectin’ his spot in the company at the same time. Now, whether he’s a complete jerk, or not, you’ve got to give Russo his due here because this is what he did. HE CREATED ME—VIC VENOM—and the reason why was simple–his intention was to go in the WWF magazine, write about how crappy the product was, put MY NAME TO IT, and then get away with it by explaining to everybody that IT WAS ALL A WORK!!! And, you know what—the potato heads bought it!!! Under MY pen name, Russo was able to say whatever he wanted—without ever puttin’ his livelihood in jeopardy!!!
But—here’s one thing that that brainless, clueless, killer of WCW AND TNA didn’t take into consideration—Vic Venom was never going to go away. Vic Venom had become a part of Vince Russo. Yeah, the inventor of ridiculous anything on a pole match, can go to church all he wants—3,4,5 times a week even, but inside, he’s just like you and me. He’s human—he can’t help it. And, when the rage needs to come out in a form other than his own mouth—who’s there to take the heat almost 20 years later? That’s right—his old friend Vic. The snake in the grass that doesn’t care what he says about ANYBODY. The guy with no moral values whatsoever, the guy who will spit the venom directly in your face—just to see what you’re gonna do about it. The guy, who challenges you to start the war, because for the finish I will shove so much hot dynamite up your kester that your head will wind up in Poughkeepsie, while your feet are hangin’ out in BEIJING!!!.
So, I guess what it is I’m tryin’ to say is—I’m back, blow hards—provoke me if you dare! If you’ve got the spauldings—I’ve got the size thirteens to step on em’. Bring it—bring it all night long!