Angle #9: Killer Queen

I have some ambivalence about pro wrestling's use of the gay gimmick.  On the one hand, I admire, respect, and value everything Gorgeous George did for wrestling, way back in the 1940s, when he bleached his long wavy hair and hired a valet to perfume the ring before every entrance.  On the other hand, I have absolutely no interest in Golddust.  I see the homophobia implicit in the gimmick, and I resent the fact that there are no out gay heroes and babyfaces (that I know of).  I'd frankly feel more comfortable with the mincing, lisping, effeminate ring characters if the wrestlers were in fact gay and comfortable in their sexuality--and they actually did mince and lisp in real life.

Still one manifestation that currently holds sway over me sometimes is Victorious Secret, the tag team of Mason Conrad and Cameron Salem.  The two's personae owe perhaps more to Hello Kitty than to anything you are likely to find in an actual gay club.  Lollipop-sucking Salem, in particular, I find very hot, and have been semi-obsessed with him since he dangled his ass provocatively over an exhausted Zack Thompson in a photo of near iconic stature.  Unlike other of my favorite angles I have written about here, this is one I have never seen played out and one for which I specifically had Victorious Secret in mind as I wrote it up.

In the Killer Queen angle, two effeminate tag team partners decide to hire a valet.  Virtually a clone of one of the wrestlers, he dresses the two fighters, escorts them to the ring, and occasionally provides helpful interference in their matches.  In time, the valet's resemblance to the one wrestler becomes eerily exact, down to the haircut, color scheme, and characteristic la-di-da posturings.  As the valet increasingly participates in the matches, he becomes almost a third member of the team.  In fact, he is coming close to eclipsing the wrestler he so closely emulates.  This, of course, leads to conflict.  The wrestler and the valet begin to compete for the favor of the other partner.  The rivalry leads ultimately to a grudge match--a male catfight to end all male catfights.  In bold contrast to the two fighters' usual sissified ways, they choose something brutal--a first-blood cage match, perhaps, or a no-DQ, falls-count-anywhere "I Quit" fight.  More importantly, the fight is fought with animal rancor, the two holding nothing back and tearing into each other like two rabid pussycats.

Since I had Cameron Salem in mind for the match, I pictured the valet as somebody with a comparable physique--5'8" with an aquiline nose and punkish styling.  Brad Flash?  Tyler Reese?  Kyle Matthews?  Jason Hades?  Stoney Hooker?  What do you think?  (I'd be happy to audition them all.)


  1. I loved the way Ricki Starr would do his light in the loafers ballet dancer schtick.

  2. Am I alone in insisting on white soles on pro boots? Where did they go???

    I am not a shoe or foot fetishist by any stretch of the imagination, but if you are gonna lace 'em up and step in the ring they need to have white soles.

    Martha Stewart


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