Friggin’ In The Riggin’

An interview with that most notorious of bald wrestlers, John F. Rizzo. Gosh, who knew that Rizzo was psychic?

In a message dated 1/24/01 8:54:12 AM Eastern Standard Time, [email protected] writes:

TONY: John Friggin’ Rizzo! Greetings, salutations, and (if I haven’t already said) a Happy New Year to you, sir! How are things in big, fat Americaville now that that scary, leering, second-hand car salesman Bush is ‘El Presidente’?

JFR: Last I checked, China was pissed that we had a real president – but other than that, things are peachy. I think. What do I know? I spend all my time playing a friggin’ fantasy game for smelly teens. Happy New Year to you as well – I guess you guys on the other side of the pond have New Year’s, right? But would you trust President Bush to hold a balloon for your kids?

TONY: Man, I wouldn’t trust that guy to hold a balloon for my kids…

JFR: I’m sure all politicians are super-duper human beans, but I wouldn’t trust any of them to give me a kiss on the cheek without trying to slip me the tongue. Not that I’d mind swappin’ spit with Hillary. <insert collective vomit here>

(Tony wonders if ‘here’ is his mouth…)

TONY: Still! Enough of my deep political insight (read: ill-informed Gore-ish propaganda) and on with the stuff…

JFR: Let’s get ready to rumble?

TONY: I’d like to return the favour of a few months ago and interview your good self; there are several reasons for this, i.e. a) no-one has been able to get the heart of JFR*, b) it looks like an easy way to get some store credit with Star City, and c) you’re much more famous than me (hanging out with all those CMU types n’all), so I’d just like to bask in the light of your celebrity for a short while.

JFR: Yeah, yeah, I’m famous and whatnot. Are you another one of those bastards anxious to step all up on my bandwagon and get all up on my jock? Cool! But don’t expect to throw in a gratuitous plug for CCGPrime, dammit!

TONY: Before we do, could I also throw in a gratuitous plug for CCGPrime?**

JFR: Which is indeed the sickest and most sickest sick-type stuff on The Net. By the way, even though Russell would bend me over a chair any day of the week, I know that he doesn’t want to just use me. He cares for me. He told me that I’m not just a semi-warm body, I also have a mind!

TONY: Which IS the sickest and…Oh, sorry, that wasn’t a question. I’m interviewing YOU (Note to self: you are interviewing John. He has no interest in your life or times. A rat’s ass is currently receiving greater attention from him than you are.)

JFR: (silence)

TONY: Give some details about yourself – age, weight, favourite item of clothing? Married? Kids? Did you see ’em born ? What did you think?

JFR: Age: I’m not as old as Michael Granaas. Holy Pikula! Alas, I’m not as wise as him either, but I could kick his ass in water polo. Maybe. Weight: Tons of fun for everyone, more cushion for the pushin’… Clothes: Whatever people buy me for Christmas, as I prefer function over fashion, and you can’t get more functionable than underpants from Aunt Phyllis. Kids: Two former ovum, now full-fledged eggs. They be four and change and one point something. I was fortunate enough to see both of them born, and what a friggin’ eye opener. Their births were, to quote some writer dude, "Some good." It made me wonder if I believed in God.

TONY: Do you believe in God?

JFR: While I think organised religion is a joke, I do look forward to someday playing for ante at the head table. Jeez, I wonder if God will topdeck for the win, yet again? But, sometimes I wonder what makes me do what I do.

TONY: Why do you do what you do?

JFR: Because I must. And because it might piss someone off enough to think, and that’s how I get my inspiration.

TONY: How do you…(slows)…Get your inspiration?

(Tony is confused at JFR’s uncanny ability to anticipate my every move – are these the droids I’m looking for?)

JFR: Easy. I read tons of articles that piss me off. And when I make it to the Pro Tour, everyone will be taken to task. In a huge way. Got that, pro boys? Look out below, chiefs, there’s a new sheriff in town, and he will be a threat to your way of life, much like the nerds in "Revenge of the Nerds," although, I do like porn.

TONY: Er…Do you like porn?

JFR: "Like" is a strong word, chief. After all, what the hell else is there to do while I’m waiting for Star City to update?

TONY: What is your favourite band/musician/album/song?

JFR: I’d have to go with Beethoven – for 300 years after his death, people are still ripping him off. The Ninth Symphony is just insane. Otherwise, give me some serious crunchy guitars, loud as hell amps, and back the hell up. And someone please kick Fred Durst’s ass.

TONY: And your favourite film?

JFR: Um… Why don’t you just ask me which one of my kids I like better? Tons of hella goodies, but I have watched "Man on the Moon" every night for the last three weeks. Is there something wrong with that?

TONY: My favourite film of all time is MY FAIR LADY.

JFR: My Fair Lady? Wasn’t that the one where Keanu stabbed John Malkovich in the gizzard and had sex with Glenn Close to the tune of Destiny’s Child’s "Independent Woman?"

TONY: Er…not on the copy I’ve got.

(Sound of intermittent coughs. Someone shouts out, "Oi! Tony! Tell us a joke, you fat bastard!")

TONY (like an automaton): What is your favourite Magic card?

JFR: Why don’t you just ask me what my favorite Magic card is? Oh. Well, the first card I fell in love with was Megrim, followed by Bottomless Pit, followed by Ill-Gotten Gains. Although I like every color but white, I really hate discard, even I think that the guy who invented food was a genius.

TONY (boy this IS really easy, isn’t it?): And your favourite food is?

JFR: Whoever invented food was a genius.

TONY (interrupting): …You jus’sed that…

JFR: (persisting) …I much prefer to eat things that once walked and/or made random noises when they got caught in the trap and/or hung out to dry in the slaughterhouse.

Dear PETA,


Carnivore Rizzo

TONY: Favourite animal?

JFR: Anything that I can eat. Although I am sort of partial to the ugly dogs at the pet store that no one will buy because they want "pretty" dogs. Superficial bastards. They are the people who sit around all day and ask retarded questions like, "Where do odd socks disappear to?" Nerds.

TONY: Yeah, fine, et cetera – but where DO odd socks disappear to?

JFR: While I have no doubt that a ten-year Federally subsidised study was done, I have yet to hear the results – although I think George Carlin was onto something with his "Pile Theory." Why they didn’t just ask him is beyond me. Or maybe they just disappear into Darwin Kastle’s inbox. He’s probably French or something.

TONY: Speaking of the French, I ask this of you: "Why?"

JFR: Who the hell else are they going to get to live in France? Duh.

TONY: Who is your favourite Magic writer (apart from ME***, of course)?

JFR: William Steinmetz. He writes for some site that I forget the URL for – but he’s not my favorite Magic player, although he’s close to the triumvirate of Forsythe, Turian, and Cuneo.

TONY (muttering about someone leaking the questions a week ago on eBay): Which Magic-playing triumvirate of Forsythe, Turian, and Cuneo is your favourite?

JFR: I’d go for the triumvirate of Forsythe, Turian, and Cuneo because each has attributes that I’d like to have in my game: Forsythe has fun coming out his wazoo, Turian just friggin’ brings it like the match is being timed, and Cuneo has an intensity that is unnerving. Put them in a test tube and lather, rinse, and repeat for the perfect Magic player. Then clone it. Then tell it to have sex with me. A lot.

TONY: What is your favourite question out of the ones I’ve asked so far?

JFR: Remember the one about the thing? That was a good question. At least you didn’t ask me about my fetish for Roseanne Barr yet.

TONY: Roseanne…No, wait up…Mariah Carey! Why?

JFR: There is some aura of sensuality surrounding her. Or maybe that’s bacon grease.

TONY (laughing at what he thinks is his own cleverness): Ha, ha! Just trying saying Mariah without saying Mmmmmmm. Ahem. Please explain to me why Friends is so popular?

JFR: Because everyone on that show is so damn friggin’ attractive that everyone who watches would have sex with any of them, at any place or time. Or maybe that’s just me.

TONY: This question is not here right now. Please leave your answer after the tone….BEEEEEEEEEEP.

JFR: Frankly, that is irresponsible journalism. How do you spell "relief?"

TONY: What’s it like being famous/notorious/bald?

JFR: Famous, huh? Um, okay. Considering that every pro probably hates my guts, I’d say it’s serious good times for Becky. After all, I’m just an agent of the little people. Don’t get me wrong, I like the little people, so much so that I have had an epiphany: I will now PERSONALLY answer UP to one email I get from each article. If I feel like it. Please, dear little people, keep writing to me and offering slathering praise; I love to read how you’ll kiss my ass and tell me how great I am, but I just can’t be bothered by answering all of your mail, for you really are beneath me. And you know it, you worthless scum. I’m still working on the "bald" thing, a la Bruce Willis, and the beard thing is another thing I’d have to think about if I had my life to live over again as well.

TONY: If you had your life to live over again, would you GROW that beard?

JFR: I might, but then again, maybe I’d go for the clean-shaven Harvard grad look. I’d be pretty fly for a mindless, superficial, white guy.

TONY: What is your partner’s reaction to you playing so much Magic/writing so much?

JFR: My "partner?" Is that what those crazy kids are calling it these days? Whatever happened to the much respected moniker "my ol’ lady?" Although, I must admit, when I hear someone refer to their wife as "my ol’
Lady," I often find that my mouth does not contain enough spittle to hawk in their face. Actually she doesn’t read my stuff, and long ago gave up trying to walk around the retarded boxes of cards in my den/basement haven in favor of feigning indifference. But she does think I’m the bees knees, which is bigger than a breadbox. And that’s worth something.

TONY: In jolly old, hockey-stick-ridden, bowler-hat-wearing, tea-sipping, green and pleasant England, it is traditional for a woman to refer to her husband as her ‘Old Man’ – however, one cannot escape the penile imagery (as a bloke, which is English for a ‘man’, often refers to his todger as his ‘Old Man,’ too). This is fine if you’re in a gay relationship when this would be equally applicable, or perhaps if one was married to a hermaphrodite. Anyway, enough of my pedantry and the needless use of long words: What would make you give up Magic altogether?

JFR: If Darwin’s Theory of Creation (I am Darwin, I rule, you suck) ever becomes the standard to which all Magic players subscribe to, then I’m out of here.

TONY: Now you’ve got the floor – have you anything to declare?

JFR: Attackers. So you best tippity-tap my guys now, chief, for there will be no "wait, I wanted to tippity-tap some dudes."

TONY: Keep on truckin, you digital-camera sporting, boat-rocking, rib-tickling semi-naked Internet author-type.

JFR: If this van be a rockin’, don’t come a knockin’.

TONY: Love, Tony

JFR: Aww, really?

TONY (to himself): Come in, number 48 – your time is up! (to everyone else) Ciao, babies!

* – Apart from that interview over at CCGPrime (Um, Crazy Pierre tried to break me as well, and if I’d have known how cute he was at the time, I would’ve let him. Or was it Vasco? Or someone else? Damn, all those scrubs look the same after you put on your Darwin Kastle Colored Glasses!
– Johnny Footnote Boy)****

** – Bonus!


**** – Get out of my footnotes, Rizzo – these are my sacred properties…Officer! Officer of the Leuuaaaw, come quickly!