(Tonight's edition of WWA Insider opens at a Fairground in Anaheim, California. Not Disneyland my any means, but nevertheless, it is a lovely sunny day and scores of families and friends can be seen ambling about. Some eating popcorn and cotton candy. Others drink from large slurpee cups and carry bags full of goodies. Tantrum throwing children jump up and down demanding another go on the latest ride. Their parents berate them, but eventually relent, falling into the child’s well set trap.

One tantrum throwing individual, holding a tub of popcorn in one hand and a bag full of goodies in the other does not have any parents with him to console him. That individual, is Tommy Starr.)

Starr: (face bright red) I want another go on the ferris wheel!!

Attendant: I’m sorry sir, you will not be getting back on that ride. We have already had several complaints from people that you have been throwing projectiles at them from up top. We will not tolerate such behaviour!

Starr: Don’t you know who I am? I’m freaking Tommy Starr!

Attendant: I don’t care if you are Barney the freaking Dinosaur, you are not getting back on that ride. Good day to you.

(As the attendant turns and walks away, Starr trips him over, dumps the popcorn on him, and walks away, shaking his head.)

Starr: Have people no respect for real talent nowadays? Look at me! I am a god-like specimen! I am the Next Next Big Thing!

(Starr stops to admire himself in a mirror, running his hands over his close cropped bleached blonde hair and winking. Passers-by stare at him disapprovingly, but he doesn’t care. Tommy Starr is the man! Why can’t these fools understand?)

Starr: At least Lockdown and Psycho have become bonafide Starr Gazers. When I saw what those two did to that movie theatre cashier, I was grinning all day long! Thanks guys, I’ll throw one of my Starr Struck ring rats your way...one day.

(Starr looks up and sees that the mirror he was admiring himself in belongs to the front façade of a Hall of Mirrors. He smirks and wanders in, of course stopping to let an elderly couple in first. Then tripping them over by kicking their walking sticks and stepping over them.)

Starr: See, that’s evidence of natural selection right there. Survival of the fittest. Since I am the fittest, I will step over the weaker, the inept, the clueless that stand before me in the WWA. It is only a matter of time.

(Starr steps into the first part of the Hall of Mirrors, where a ladder has been set up to make him look short and fat. He smirks some more as he addresses the mirror.)

Starr: Ah, Shmuckster, how is it going you f*cking pansy? (looks at the camera) Oh, my bad...my reflection was so distorted, so Chucker-fied, being short and fat, I thought it was him...like it was KHUL!

(Shakes his head.)

Starr: What a load of wank. Chuckster, a wise man called Tommy once told me that there are four things in life that are certain. Death, taxes, and the fact that Anaheim is the a$$ end of the USA.

(The crowd gathering nearby begin to boo.)

Starr: The fourth thing is, Chuckster, you suck more a$$ than a liposuction machine does when Oprah comes to visit. You look like the retarded love child of Freddy Mercury and George Michael.

(A few people in the crowd nod, and Starr walks off to the next mirror.)

Starr: Except that child would still master the English Language a lot better than you, Crapster. You butcher the English Language more regularly than Adam Sandler did in the Waterboy!

(Starr admires himself in the next mirror, which enlarges his frame over ten times, this magnification giving him almost God-like proportions.)

Starr: That’s more like it. (flexes his muscles) How you like me now F*ckster!? That’s right baby, I’m freaking Tommy Starr!!

(The crowd that did gather quickly disperses as frankly, this is getting a little bit weird. Starr shrugs and makes his way into the next room, it is quite dark, so he feels around for a switch as he speaks to the viewers at home.)

Starr: Although I have to give Suckster some credit...I think he respects me. Why you ask? Well, another wise man once said that “imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”

And what have we seen the Blubster do in preparation for the massacre that awaits him at Meltdown this week? Training? Resting? Strategising?

Nope.

He went to Vegas! Frankly, I’ve never been to Vegas, its where all has-beens go to die, so it suits the “Master of the Powerdump” just fine. And when he wasn’t cosying up to his new “close male friend” Shaman, or scoring with what appeared to be Wattsoners mom, he was apparently imitating yours truly!

I’d like to say I’m flattered, but those of you who know me would know better than that. Get over it Chuckster! I know I am a STARR, but you cannot, no matter how you try, EVER, replicate this!

(With that, Starr flicks the switch and the room lights up. The walls of the hexagonal room are fully mirrored, and other mirrors stand scattered around the room. As you may have guessed, Tommy Starr’s reflection bounces off each mirror and then the other and the other, so his reflection is reflected infinite times. Starr raises his arms in the air and looks very focused and pleased with him self.)

Starr: Freddy, I mean, George, I mean Chuckster! This Monday, my sidekick Psycho and myself are going to introduce you to the WWA as only the Devils Own can.

And there is nothing you or the CPE ...(what the hell is CPE? Sounds like a sexually transmissible disease to me..uh not that I'd know about that, uh huh)...can do about it! So what can you do?

DEAL WITH IT!
DEAL WITH IT!
DEAL WITH IT!
DEAL WITH IT!
DEAL WITH IT!