Adrian Adonis’ Assistants

Adrian Adonis' Assistants

From the “You Don’t Need to Be Gary Spivey to Know This Won’t End Well” file comes this tidbit, courtesy of our pals over at



No no no no no no no no no.


Wait, that wasn’t quite large and bold enough.


Please please please, WWE, please…just…don’t.


I’m asking nicely?

I say that because history has shown us pro wrestling’s handling of such characters is, shall we say, questionable at best. No matter the original intent, the ending is always the same, a disaster of the most stereotypical nature imaginable, generally offending the same folks they are trying to spotlight.

Of course everyone remembers the absolutely ‘fabulous’ couple of Billy & Chuck. They were presented to fans on Smackdown! with imagery such as this:


And to be fair, it’s not just WWE. Who could possibly forget Orlando Jordan’s TNA stint, during which he had the hots for co-worker Rob Terry to such a degree that he squirted white cream all over himself on live television and then licked it off his lips?


Seriously, who on planet earth can possibly read this…


…and think, “Yes, this is going to go great! Can’t wait to see it!”????

Going back so far as Gorgeous George, this industry has done little, nay, I say NOTHING to prove it has the ability to portray any such characters in anything remotely close to a positive light.

So we’re going to go down this path yet one more time and expect different results?


Who could POSSIBLY think this is in any way, shape, or form a good idea?



While Billy, Chuck, and Orlando are perhaps more well known to newer fans, older farts like myself remember a gay character from the 1980s by the name of “Adorable” Adrian Adonis. And I note his sexual preference since he made it very clear on the infamous Tuesday Night Titans (TNT).

It went a little something like this.


And thus he announced that he in fact was a homosexual, which led to massive boos from the audience and Vince doing…something, I am not sure what…with his hand and his mouth.

To be honest, looking at said image, I am very content to not know what he was doing.


But hey, it was TNT and we got to meet not one, but TWO of Adrian’s assistants. Why, I bet they won’t be cliched or insulting in any way, shape or form!


First up, let’s meet Adrian’s stylist, Jack Darling. He offers to shake Vince’s hand, which I would strongly advise against after his earlier antics. Despite Jack’s goodwill gesture, Vince declines stating that he has to keep it on his microphone. That’s probably for the best. Jack explains that he’s here to make Adrian look “even more beautiful!” in a very, shall we say, FLAMBOYANT manner.

I’m honestly not sure what to tackle first. Is it the hair, that appears to be an old mop?

The open shirt with chest follicles gone mad?

The purple sweater draping his shoulders?

How about the True Value apron?

Wait, isn’t True Value a hardware store? Why would a stylist be wearing that? No idea, but if you want to start putting your Jack Darling costume together early for this Halloween, you can pick one of those bad boys up on Etsy for under $10.


In fact, if anyone reading this DOES dress up as Jack Darling for Halloween, email me a pic and I’ll send you $9 by PayPal to cover the cost of the apron. It’s a small price to pay for the ability to simultaneously mock you and also re-reference this stupid induction for years to come.

As Jack flings powder all over the place, Vince says, and I quote, “A little up the nose?” to which Adrian deadpans “maybe.” Seriously, give it a listen. If you’re somehow shocked at such a blatant drug reference on WWF television, well, you obviously weren’t around in the 1980’s, as they snuck questionable stuff like that on their TV shows all the time. I’d be remiss in this particular induction if I didn’t mention how nearly every Steve Lombardi (who was gay in real life) match had a quip from Gorilla Monsoon about how he attended the Terry Garvin (ditto) school of self defense, which featured a lot of “go behinds.” In many ways it was the wild west of television, and it would obviously never fly today.


Kinda like the end of this skit, during which Jack Darling finishes off Adrian’s makeover by smearing his cheeks with red paint and then repeatedly brushing his middle finger over the guy’s lips.




But hey, that was just Adrian’s makeup artist. It’s now time for the main event of the evening, during which we shall meet his personal florist, a man by the name of Mr. Bruce.


And this guy…wow. I mean, he plays it so absurdly over the top you can almost picture Vince backstage yelling at him, “That Jack Darling, he could have passed as hetero, or at least bi! I want you FLAMING! FLAMING, DO YOU HEAR ME? FLAMING DAMMIT!”

And if those were the marching orders, boy howdy did this dude ever deliver.

But it wasn’t just a solo act, as he had help in the form of Gene Okerlund, who delivered every quip imaginable in a four minute span, starting by asking if Adrian looked ‘smashing’ from behind.


And thus we start our downhill run into Stereotypeville, with the train wreck continuing as a “bee” appears on the set. Mr. Bruce attacks the insect by flailing at it in the most limp wristed style possible as he cries “Jimmy!” with a tone that can only be described as girlish. From there, Gene asks Phyllis (“err, I mean Bruce!”) how long he’s been doing this. Bruce explains since childhood, and Gene remarks, “Wait, what have you been doing since you were a child?” to some very forced laughs.

Why I can almost hear Michael Cole guffawing in the same manner!

Between the bees and Okerlund’s harassment, poor Mr. Bruce begins to have a meltdown.


A big, pouty, puffy cheeked meltdown.


Thankfully, he is able to calm himself to the point that he can continue the arrangement, noting that “you put it in the rear” and also that “whatever I put in my little hands grows.”

Don’t blame me. I’m just reporting the facts.

As Mr. Bruce gets a bit unnerved, Gene asks Adrian if he thinks Bruce is, and I am quoting here, “up for this.” Mr. Bruce spins on a dime and says, “I’m up for anything you can put out, big boy!” and also that Gene wishes he was yanking his chain.

You know. Like sexually.







In case you were holding out any semblance of hope that this sordid affair may somehow become classy, it ends with the bee returning and stinging Adrian right square in the hindquarters.


Which naturally leads to Mr. Bruce spraying his fanny with a water bottle.

Not to beat a dead horse or anything but…



This is what we have to look forward to.

Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.

Discuss This Crap!