Torm the Wrestler

He’s from Calgary, Alberta, Canada. You know who I’m talking about? That’s right: Torm the Wrestler. He steps into the ring and places his boot upon your head. Let me read you his biography:

Torm was born drop-kicking with perfect poise, vertically falling super high through the air of the room. He was raised as a champion, always swaddled in his country’s flag. Anyone who ever tried to speak to him got booted hard. (No one’s ever successfully spoken to him.) He does the half-crab motion to get from point A to point B. He’ll take away your disbelief and slam it shut with an impact prayer. 

Now let me just quote the first couple verses from Torm’s gospel: 

Leaping up from the primeval ooze, on the day when he created himself, Torm’s immediate mission on Earth is to kick your face in. He is body-slamming, ripping and roaring, while clothed in his maple leaf. On the legal document for the ownership of the world, he signs his full name “Typhoon Cyclone,” and then he locks you in the sleeper hold. You’ve probably heard of the Holy Mother of God, but have you ever wondered if God’s mother herself had a mother? The answer is yes, tho it’s not a bird or a plane; it’s the entity appearing on the horizon with pulsing biceps: Torm the Wrestler, crushing the earth beneath the rock-hard soles of his feet.  If you’re stupid enough to come running directly toward him, he will perform the clothesline decapitation maneuver.