I have this giant closet here that I never, ever go into. It's got boxes and boxes of the worst crap you've ever seen. A long time ago I made myself a promise to live my life as though this closet didn't really exist, seeing as how the world wasn't ready to be exposed to the ludicrous elements it's comprised of.
Unfortunately, I had a big desire to watch Shock Treatment today, and I couldn't find the video. I searched the house left and right, to no avail. As much as I avoided it, I knew I was going to have to go into...the closet. And while Shock Treatment was nowhere to be found...I came upon something...something far more disturbing than you've ever dreamed possible...
Man alive. Finding this was pretty bittersweet for me, I wasn't sure whether to be ecstatic or absolutely fucking frightened. On one hand, I was happy since I knew there was no way I couldn't squeeze an article out of this gem....but on the other hand, the evil butterflies started having go-kart races in my stomach...I knew that, ultimately, I'd have to wear this shit.
Before we get into the specifics, here's a little background on steroids posterboy and vocab connosseuir, The Ultimate Warrior.
The Ultimate Warrior was one of the World Wrestling Federation's biggest stars of the late 80s. His unique blend of muscles and growling, plus his amazing ability to shake the ropes instilled fear in his opponents to the point where even such Adonis-like greats like the Honky Tonk Man and the Outlaw Ron Bass were afraid to fight him.
His interviews were very interesting. At first, they consisted mainly of the Warrior telling his enemies that he was going to destroy them....very...slowly...just...like...this....while snarling as if Mean Gene had said something particularly perverted to him before the cameras started rolling. Later in his career when his marketibility wore out, Warrior would make occassional comebacks under the false impression that using big words like 'thee', 'onomontopia, and 'photosynthesis' was going to impress the fans. After getting booed out of arenas left and right, even after his mysterious magic trick of appearing in Hulk Hogan's mirrors across backstage dressing rooms everywhere, the Warrior was no more.
Now he resides on the internet, occassionally posting commentaries about how evil wrestlers and promoters kept him down. He neglects to mention that his gimmick could only be considered 'hip' to mutilated philosophers with penchants for the occult. His current hobbies include creating bad comic books and waiting for the steroids to finally kill him.
But that's now...this was then. And then, the Ultimate Warrior was a hero to everyone. Who didn't want to be the Warrior? And that's what the official WWF Ultimate Warrior Wrestling Gear gave us the chance to do...actually become the Ultimate Warrior!!
The box alone is worth however much this thing costed. (and as you'll soon see, if it was anything above 30 cents, people really got ripped off) Now, while the contents could be squished into a compartment about 2" long, they made the box huge and regal because after all, this is the Warrior.
They do a good job selling the mysterious contents on the package, almost a good enough job to make you forget that the stuff inside absolutely fucking blows. We'll get to that a bit later, but believe me, I've never seen string and plastic marketed with such genius. The little kid in the section picture is living his dream as you can see...he is a warrior. He may not be ultimate...but a warrior still.
Now let's take a look at the hideous contents of the box, of which I will model for you as best a person 16 years too old for this set could...
This set really had it's finger on the pulse of the working man. Sure, we all wanted to be warriors, but in this workaday world, who has time to inject steroids into their system every hour on the hour? That's why this kit includes the official Ultimate Warrior body tanktop. Grab yourself a faux physique and impress your friends!
Seriously though, even the most retarded, disinterested parents should've had a problem letting their kids walk around in this thing. Can you imagine the absolute social nightmare a poor, unsuspecting kid would face walking into school in one of these things? Chances are slim that the muscle shirt would ward off bullies. On the other hand, chances are very good that the bullies would murder your child for wearing it.
Maybe they were scam artists, maybe they just got a good deal on wholesale shoelaces, but either way...the WWF managed to market neon string as a viable item. The best part about this is how the box pictures them - the tassles on the package are all different brilliant colors...the tassles in the box are a few pieces of nylon that absolute refuse to be tied.
To this day I'm still not sure what purpose arm tassles like these were meant to serve. In the Warrior's case, I'm sure it acted as an excuse. He'd claim the cut-off of his blood circulation is what led to desire to incorporate Pavlov's theorems into the pro-wrestling promo.
Also, we start to notice a suspicious color pattern growing with this set. I'm sure the Warrior's straighter than Hacksaw's 2x4, but this set really should come with a Rainbow Club card.
Why? Because you're not a warrior without them, that's why. These make the set. Muscle shirt and arm tassles yes, but you really enter a whole new realm once you add bright orange wristbands to the ensemble.
By the way, if all this isn't enough for you, the back of the box features a giant cut-out poster of the Warrior himself. If dressing like him seems a bit too risque for your tastes, at least you can tack his poster on the ceiling and dream that someday, you too will be able to claim that you took on Papa Shango's voodoo curse and lived to tell about it. Let's move on...
Let's face the facts here, you can add all the flourescent accessories you want, but you won't be the Ultimate Warrior until you've got something on your face that could cause you to get legally committed. And here, the WWF and Hasbro team up to bring you what's quite possibly the cheapest excuse for a mask I've ever seen...it broke about two minutes after I opened the box, and it seems to have gained the incredibility ability to melt from body heat.
And there's your set. Yup, that's all it includes. Plastic, string, and a shirt not fit to be worn by even the most drugged alcoholic homeless derelict. With their powers combined, what would be your final result???
Yes. With this set, you have to power to transform yourself into Gay Rambo.
I'm not really sure what the purpose of this whole deal was. It wasn't a Halloween costume, and seriously, it'd be an insult to the holiday if it was. It's not really a toy. It's nothing. It's a bunch of crappy accessories that when merged together, make you slightly look like a wrestler who no kid should look up to. Is there a need for positive role models? Of course. Is a guy who snorts and destroys the set of pro-wrestling's only religious evanglist, Brother Love, one of those role models? No way. And frankly, the guy's pretty creepy. Any person who would legally change his name to 'Warrior' just so he could legitimately make a comic book about himself that three people bought is definitely not the person you should seek to dress like.
Listen, if you need someone worthy of dressing up as, here's your answer:
There. Be a panda. Be a panda, your grandmother, a drug dealer, or serial killer. But for Christ's sake...don't be the Ultimate Warrior.