Fart Splash

I had a dream last night that I had won a contest to be some random person who would enter a wrestling ring and be assaulted by the wrestler Earthquake with his signature finishing move, which was a splash where he jumps and sits on your chest. I was worried about taking the physical abuse, especially after I learned that he was supposed to rough me up extra in the beginning. I felt really unprepared, even though I had tried to practice ahead of time in a makeshift ring with Anthony Kiedis, Flea, and Billie Joe Armstrong. When the time came for Howard Finkel to announce my name (something weird that was supposed to highlight the apparent douchiness of my character) to enter the ring, I could not find where to go. I could somehow hear Vince McMahon and Jesse Ventura sounding impatient with their announcing, like “Where is (douchey name)?!,” and eventually they had to move on to the next event, pushing mine until later.


Eventually this became a tag team match, and I became Steve Urkel. I was still worried about what I now realized would be repeated splashes to be given to me by Earthquake, and that he’d possibly be farting on me. He didn’t appear to be the cleanest person, and besides, he had already put Hulk Hogan in the hospital on the Brother Love show. I then witnessed him practicing the "fart splash” on a lady wrestler, and it appeared that they were simulating the fart sounds with one of those old fashioned fireplace blowers, which put me a little at ease.


Hulk Hogan ended up being my tag team partner in a match which no longer appeared to include Earthquake, and instead I was to really emphasize my Urkelness against some random guy. The match started and I was in the ring first, and I walked into the wrestling ropes and they snapped relatively quickly. I turned to the crowd and squealed “DID I DO THAT??” which drew laughter, but also assurances that the ring wasn’t very well put together. I then began to get pummeled by the guy I was fighting, and when I went to tag in Hogan, they stopped taping because something else went wrong.


I went someplace upstairs in the arena to get away from it all, and I was in a kitchen area. Mary Alice came up to me and told me that the Steve Urkel she knew would use his brains and not his brawn to better this awkward situation. I stood there for a brief time in the kitchen, and when I emerged I realized I had been replaced with a more athletic and handsome version of Urkel-me, and they had finished what now was a basketball game without me. I was saddened but also relieved, because I just wanted to get it all over with. Besides, Donald Trump was there, and I avoided having to interact with him as a result of missing the game. They said they were wondering where I was and were looking for me, but I didn’t think they looked too hard. We sat and watched the playback of the game, and they had cut most of the video I was in. Again, I didn’t care, I just wanted it to be done.