The Logan Brothers

Pretend you're a heel tag team.  Now let's pretend you're trying to generate a little heat. You want to percolate a little instant hate in the crowd.  Let's say your goal is to get the fans to want to see you laid out flat so badly they can taste it against the sharp edges of their teeth.  Let's say that nothing would make you happier than to know the smart marks will walk away that night chuckling over the memory of you and your partner stretched out on the mat ... with x's for eyes  ... and cuckoos and stars spinning over your heads.

Here's some free advice.  Go after a couple of brothers.  They need to be good looking.  Check.  Dirty blond.  Check.  They need to look like they get their hair cut at the Fort Leavenworth PX.  Check.  They need to have thighs that look like Ducati built them.  Check.  They need shoulders that can take a direct missile hit and keep on flexing.  Check.  Just to be on the safe side, slip them into some tight, snow-blind white square-cut trunks.  And, if you really have to, give them some knee pads decorated like drowned cheerleaders' pom-poms.

It won't hurt if you call yourselves The Prestige.  It certainly won't hurt if half your team is stud-muffin Matt Magnum.  Or if your backup is Ryan Waters.  Now go out there and pick a fight with the Logan Brothers.

Because, though there's hardly anything better than to watch two good-looking brothers wrestle each other or, better yet, to have a brother who can wrestle who is willing to wrestle you, the act of facing off against a couple of popular, clean-cut siblings, especially two who get their rocks off making bad guys like you bounce off canvas, is a close close close close close second.


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