If you've ever had the urge to watch two crazed hobos mangle each other with barbed wire and take turns lighting themselves on fire, then the below clip is for you. Surprisingly, the most enjoyable aspect of this gruesome, sado-massochistic dance party is the Japanese crowd who, at multiple times, respectfully flee in terror, and at others very patiently and empathetically get punched in the face by a blood blind Terry Funk.
These two men have one the most highly regarded and longest running cross-continental feuds of all time. Their legacy proves that you don't have to be good looking or graceful to evolve into a self made legend; you just need to, at an early age, severely damage that part of your brain that tells you not to tangle up yourself or anyone else's face in barbed wire/, and then run with that without evolving into a serial killer or accidentally killing yourself. It still confuses me how/ why they didn't die here. Could there possibly be a hidden and ancient art of avoiding major arteries while wildly swinging a barbed wire wrapped 2X4 at your best frenemy? We may never know as the modern era of publicly traded, family friendly PG pro wrestling has silently and casually neutered itself and in turn, the worst parts of ourselves that secretly and despicably love watching people get horribly fucked up. Is this making the world more sane? Are we all desensitized from the wanton violence and gore beamed into our minds every day by TV, movies and video games? Is it strange that I consider Cactus Jack gently delivering a rib breaker instead of a stiff power slam outside the ring to be a sweet and tender moment of true friendship?
