(Disclosure: This following is just a parody. I do not share any cells or DNA with any members of the A-Team or Super Stars of Wrestling. I will try to clarify fact from fiction in the future. The purpose of this blog is to clarify information, not create confusion – sorry to you know who)
My mass is infected with a rare strain of supportive T-Cells which are mohawk in shape and have a severe fear of flying. They are difficult cells to treat in standard chemotherapy due to their protective border of oversized gold dinner plates, utensils and jewelry.
These cells can only be transmitted person to person and my doctor and I had to do a comprehensive review of my past – exotic locations I’ve traveled, places I’ve lived, past roommates, the environments I grew up, etc. At first we thought I could have been infected with these cells during my short partnership with Hulk Hogan during the first WrestleMania. But no connection could have been made because I was watching the program on cable while wearing Spiderman pajamas.
It wasn’t until I unearthed the attached photo from my archives that the entire story clicked into place. I must have come into contact with Mr. T’s cells while filming a commercial with him about 10 years ago. (In 1995, Mr. T was diagnosed with T-cell lymphoma).
Maybe my infection occurred while I was laying T-marks at his feet? Or when I accidently used his gold spoon to eat some potato salad at lunch? Or immediately upon our introduction as “First name Mr., middle name period, last name T”?
But I like to think it was the moment when Mr. T put his hand on my shoulder and explained to me “Mr. T don’t like improv. Mr. T works better when he’s got his lines.”
And for that brief brush with “Clubber” Lang and Sergeant “B.A.” Baracas, I will bravely shoulder the burden of 6 months of chemotherapy to shake off the Mr. T cooties that I received that day.