The Rise of Jimmy Wang Yang

[MyLeeCyrus]

Disclaimer: The only way your tiny mind can truly grasp the significance of this column is to read every word very, very carefully. There are levels of subtext that may not be apparent to you even on your third or fourth read. Think you’re up to the task?

The Rise of Jimmy Wang Yang

Jimmy Wang Yang was all-American; a redneck, through and through. Well, actually he wasn’t. He was an incredible cruiserweight wrestler in a world that had passed him by, struggling to restart his stuttering career in the WWE. Jimmy decided to take action: this is the story of that action.


Feeling apprehensive but determined, Jimmy strode towards the ominous glass doors of Titan Towers. Dressed in his sharpest suit, his hair immaculately styled and his face clean shaven, he looked the polar opposite of his on-screen character. Truth be told, Jimmy had never cared for his character anyway; if he had to play a stereotype, he’d much rather play a stereotype he was comfortable with, not the quasi-racist country-dancing fool he’d been assigned. Jimmy shook his head, summoning his thoughts back to the present; now was not the time for nostalgia, it was time for action!


Rachael Winch had been Titan Towers’ receptionist for three years, and frankly, she was getting a little sick of it. When she started, she’d imagined oiled-up, muscle-bound hunks waltzing in and out, stopping occasionally to flirt with the pretty girl behind the desk, but the truth was, even when a muscle-bound hunk did walk by, they were very rarely in their oh-so-tight wrestling trunks… Well, except that John Morrison fellow, who seemed to be allergic to t-shirts. Rachael looked up as the doors opened to see Jimmy Wang Yang enter the building. She smiled; Jimmy was one of the nicer wrestlers, always stopping by for a minute or two to see how her day was going.


“Hey Jimmy,” she said cheerily, waving at him. Wang Yang bobbed his head in acknowledgement but did not smile back.


“Hey Winchy,” he replied. “Am I okay to go through?”


“You know the rules, Jimmy,” Rachael responded. “I need you to give me the clearance word, then you can go on up.” She’d always thought the password system was ridiculous, but when Vince McMahon gives you an order, either you follow it to the tee, or you start looking for another job.


“Purple flower,” Jimmy responded. He wasn’t sure why the password was purple flower; hell, he wasn’t even sure why there was a password, but that was the way it had always been, and he didn’t like to rock the boat… He stopped in his tracks. He hadn’t liked to rock the boat, but since his sole purpose for being here was to give the floating vessel a hardy rocking, why shouldn’t he ask? Turning around, he walked back to Rachael’s desk. “Rachael, you know this password… What’s a purple flower?” Rachael looked at Jimmy with a look of utter confusion.


“You don’t know what the purple flower is?” Jimmy shook his head. Rachael’s eyes narrowed, a mysterious rage flickering over her face. “I’m very sorry to hear that, Jimmy.”


With no warning, the keyboard she’d been merrily typing on was thrown at Jimmy’s face, catching him just above the right eye. He recoiled, more out of shock than pain, and grabbed his eye with both hands. It would prove to be a costly error, as Rachael leapt from her seat, lifted the computer screen high above her and brought it down, smashing Jimmy’s head through the monitor as sparks danced all around him. Yang fell to the floor, the monitor crumbling into pieces around him. He opened his eyes to see Rachael mid-leap, fists clenched and ready to pummel him into oblivion. Rolling out of the way, Jimmy made a snap decision and brought his foot round in a spinning heel kick, connecting with her head at full force. As quickly as it had begun, it was over.


Breathing heavily, and thoroughly confused, Jimmy Wang Yang looked down at the unconscious girl in front of him. He had no idea what had just happened, but he knew it wasn’t normal. Reaching behind her desk, he grabbed a walkie-talkie.


“Security?”


“Security. Who is this?”


“This is Jimmy Wang Yang, I’m down in the lobby. Rachael’s just attacked me.”


“What the hell? We’ll be right down.”


Although it was probably only thirty seconds, Jimmy Wang Yang felt like hours passed as he waited for the security team to arrive. He couldn’t believe he’d had to knock out the receptionist, she couldn’t be more than 22 years old, and he’d kicked her in the head like she was Big Show; he felt terrible. The lift doors opened, and two security guards rushed into the lobby. They took stock of the shocked-looking wrestler and the prone receptionist before asking the obvious question.


“What happened?” Jimmy took a deep breath, composed himself, and explained.


“I came in to talk to Vince and Rachael asked me for the password. I told her, and then it occurred to me that I didn’t know what the purple flower was, so I asked her, and she went psycho on me, hit me with a keyboard and smashed a monitor over my head.”


“She smashed a monitor over your head? This is most irregular. Well, I guess we’ll take care of it. You know what the purple flower is now, right?” Jimmy shook his head.


“She never explained, just started attacking me!” The security guards looked at each other, fingering their nightsticks gently. With no further warning, they leapt at the Asian superstar, sticks now in hand, and beat him over the head with them. Jimmy Wang Yang screamed in pain as they brought the nightsticks down again and again, wracking every inch of his body in pain. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Yang screamed, blood streaming from his nose. His sudden outburst took the security guards by surprise, and Jimmy took this opportunity to scramble to his feet and run for the door.


Spilling out onto the street, Jimmy Wang Yang dashed out into the car park of Titan Towers, and fell to his knees. Coughing up blood, the superstar looked behind him and, to his relief, saw no pursuit. Trying to get his head around what had just happened, young Jimothy failed to notice the policeman approaching.


“’Ello ‘ello ‘ello, what’s going on here then?” Jimmy looked up at the officer, the blood slowly drying on his face.


“Hello officer,” he said in a posh, British accent.


“Are you alright, sonny Jim?”


“How did you know my name?” The policeman eyed him quizzically.


“Its just an expression, son.”


“Oh. Sorry, Dad. Anyway. I went into Titan Towers to talk to Vince, that’s my boss, and Rachael, the receptionist, asked me for the password. I told her, and then it occurred to me that I didn’t know what the purple flower was… that’s the password, purple flower. So I asked her what it was, and she went psycho on me, hit me with a keyboard and smashed a monitor over my head. Then I summoned the security guards, and I told them what had happened, and they asked me if I knew what the purple flower was, but I didn‘t, and then they started attacking me with nightsticks, and I managed to escape.”


“Well, it sounds like you’ve had a horrible day. Tell me what the purple flower is, and we’ll get this whole mess sorted out.”


“I DON’T KNOW!” Jimmy screamed. “Nobody has told me what the purple flower is, they’ve just beaten me up for not knowing… Shit.”


Sure enough, the policeman whips out a tazer and zaps Mr. Yang in his boy parts. Falling to the floor in agony, Yang receives a swift kick to the ribs, turning him over and onto his back, his hands still gripping Little Jim and the boys (affectionately named Hawkins and Ryder). Her Majesty’s finest (or at the very least, Obama’s most mediocre) police officer continues to beat down our hero, zapping him intermittently just for funsies.


“You, sonny Jim, are nicked. I’m taking you down the station. Anything you say can, and will, be used against you in a court of law, yada yada yada.”


Well… Gosh, folks! Things don’t look good for our hero, do they? What will happen to Jimmy Wang Yang? Lets find out… Right now.

The Next Day

Jimmy was at a loss for words. Somehow, all of his plans to re-establish his career had fallen to pieces, and now here he was, being dragged before a judge to face the charges of grievous bodily harm, disturbing the peace and, of course, lack of knowledge about purple foliage. As the court guards bundled him into the docks, his hands tied behind his back, Wang Yang looked pleadingly at the judge, imploring him to throw out the laughably ridiculous charges against him. There was security footage to show that his attack on Miss Winch had been nothing but self-defence, and that the policeman had attacked him and not the other way around. Surely, surely, he would be released to go free.


“Mr. Yang, you have been charged on three counts. Would you like to explain yourself?”


“Yes, Mr. Judge. What happened was, I went into Titan Towers to talk to Vince McMahon, my boss, and Rachael, the receptionist, asked me for the password. I told her, and then it occurred to me that I didn’t know what the purple flower was… that’s the password, purple flower. So I asked her what it was, and she went psycho on me, hit me with a keyboard and smashed a monitor over my head. Then I summoned the security guards, and I told them what had happened, and they asked me if I knew what the purple flower was, but I didn‘t, and then they started attacking me with nightsticks, and I managed to escape out into the car park. Then, as I was collecting my thoughts, this policeman came up, and asked me what had happened. I explained it to him, and then told him that I didn’t know what the purple flower was, and then he tazered me, kicked me in the ribs, beat me up some more and arrested me. And now I’m here.”


“Well, Mr. Yang, apart from the crime of starting that final sentence with the word “and”, it seems that this is all a big misunderstanding. So, if you can tell this court what the purple flower is, I’ll let you go free.”


“But I don’t know!” Jimmy exclaimed. “This isn’t fair! What’s so important about the purple FUCKING flower?!”


“Swearing in court, Mr. Yang?” The judge looked down on him. “I find you in contempt of me, my lofty position, and guilty on all charges. I’m sentencing you to 20 years in prison. Guards, take him away!”


Jimmy began to cry (which, I think its fair to say, all of us would, were we in his position). In the space of two days, he had lost his career, his self-respect and his freedom. He still wasn’t quite sure how this had happened, but one thing was for sure: it had happened, and there was nothing he could do about it.

The Next Day
(Not the next day we spoke about earlier, but the one after that. You know, the-next-day-after-the-next-day… I digress).

As Jimmy Wang Yang was marched into the cell he would be sharing with a serial killer for the next 20 years, he took stock of his new roommate. Standing 6’7, and clearly in need of some dental work, Ryan Comerford was a frightening, frightening man. Responsible for the deaths of (at least) twelve people, Jimmy was understandably apprehensive about being forced to live with him. Normally, serial killers would be given their own cells, but Comerford had apparently shown signs that he was ready to return to the world of the normal, and Jimmy’s own crime was so harsh that the judge hadn’t seemed to care if he was killed in prison.


“Hi,” Jimmy said, warily approaching Comerford’s bunk. “I’m Jimmy Wang Yang.”


“Hello,” Comerford replied. “I’m Ryan Comerford. What are you in for?”


“Well…” Jimmy stopped. So far, every time he’d told somebody what had happened to him, it had ended with a question about the purple flower; every time he’d answered a question about the purple flower, he’d been horribly beaten. Was he really going to tell a serial killer the story? No. What a retarded idea. “I can’t tell you,” he explained. “I don’t feel comfortable about it.”


“Hey man, that’s okay,” Ryan replied. “Maybe when we know each other a little better.”

Twenty Years Later

“Well, I’m off,” Jimmy said, breaking the hug. After twenty years, he felt somewhat guilty about his pre-judging of Ryan. The two of them got along famously, and despite the elation he felt at being allowed to leave prison, he felt a pang of regret that he would probably never see the serial killer again. “I love you, man. Take care of yourself.”


“Thanks,” Ryan replied. “You too, buddy. Hey, you never told me what you were in for?”


“Oh, that… Well… No, I’m still not going to. I don’t want to ruin a good friendship with a poor ending,” Jimmy responded.


“What, you still don’t trust me? After all we’ve been through? After all the sponge baths I gave little Hawkins and Ryder, all the chats we’ve had into the early hours of the morning, you still can’t tell me what brought you here in the first place?” Ryan was clearly beginning to get agitated, and this worried Jimmy; if he didn’t want to tell him the purple flower story when he was calm, there was no way in hell he was going to tell him when he was angry!


“Its not trust, Ryan. Its just… Its private, and I don’t want to. Can’t you respect that, as my friend?”


“Why should I respect you as a friend when you obviously don’t respect me?” Comerford took an angry pace towards Jimmy, his fists clenched. There was nothing else for it: Jimmy ran for the door as quick as his legs could carry him. Without stopping to look behind him, Jimmy Wang Yang dashed out and onto the road in front of the prison. He stopped, but before he could feel any relief, he was struck by a bus. There was nothing the driver could’ve done to prevent it, the Asian redneck blundered out only a few yards in front of him. There was no time to brake before his body was crushed against the front of the bus.

Ladies and gentlemen, pay heed to the moral of this story: always look both ways before you cross the road.

[Uncle Joe]

LOL. Jimmy Wang Yang for the win. I like how you never explain what the PF is. I think you're te only other person besides me who liked Wang enough to write a column. Uh no homo, I meant Jimmy Wang Yang, not that we like Wang. I mean we like Wang, but not THAT wang.

[Glacier]

Don't lie, Joe. We all know what kind of wang you like.

As for the column, i like how you centered the whole column around the purple flower only to make the moral of your story about looking both ways before crossing the street. It was brilliant.

[Scotty_Boy]

I was SO waiting for the serial killer to attack him about the purple flower. I find it funny that everybody attacked him just because he didn't know what the purple flower was. Great work. Loved every minute of it.

[FreekyDeeky]

Great swerve ending MyLee, are you going to explain what the purple flower is or leave us all to wonder?

There were a few grammatical things I noticed whilst reading things like "sonny Jim" when he wasn't referring to Wang Yang confused me but it didn't disrupt the flow much.

Great read, write more

[Super Chrisss]

Loved it, MyLee. L-O-V-E-D it. The concept was great, the humor subtle but good, and it never missed a beat. The ending was the best part, as it fooled just about everybody. Very well-written man.

[Martin Riggs]

Oh bro, they've no idea the suffering we've caused people with the purple flower joke...

nice translation to Wrestling terms, that came across fairly easily.

But Yang? of all people? Well, i suppose the character was somewhat secondary...

[TJ Tilli]

OMG i loved it. seriously.

[LimeFlavored]

I don't know much about Jimmy Wang Yang, so that was lost on me.

I don't understand the purple flower reference, so that was lost on me.

I guess I also don't get that there was much humor in this column, so that was also apparently lost on me.

After reading this, I was confused and I may have soiled myself... I think I'm too old.

[MyLeeCyrus]

Auntie Josephine: I'd love to share your love for Jimmy Wang Yang, but I pretty much just picked a jobber... I feel like I've let you down

Inferno: Thanks Its based on an old joke I got told once, I don't think ANYBODY knows that the purple flower is.

Susie-Girl: If I were you, I'd backtrack like two sentences; the feedback to Glacier applies to thee too!

NormalDeeky: Its really hard to invert your name... The purple flower is whatever you want it to be, just don't let on that you're not sure what it is. I've heard bad things happen.

Normal Ccchris: I'm glad you liked it, I thought I might've come off as a bit too dry at times, so I'm pleased at least one person didn't think so!

BJ: Hehehe... Inverting your name was the sole reason for inverting everyone else's too. The character was definitely secondary, and someday I'll post the joke in full and let the hate mail commence.

JT Jilli: Thanks

Lemon Scented: There is absolutely nothing to get; no hidden meaning, no big Jimmy Wang Yang story, the whole point of it was to be strange, confusing and to kill a few hours of my day!

[Mister E]

Nice work here. Entertianing from start to finish!! Does the purple flower even have a meaning?!? It really sucks the reader in!! Great job!

[anonymous]

Who's Jimmy Wang Yang? Sounds like a gay porn star.

[MyLeeCyrus]

Eoghan: Of course the purple flower has a meaning, don't you know what it is? I would think very carefully about how you answer that...

Anonymous:
On behalf of myself: Jimmy Wang Yang is a cruiserweight wrestler in the WWE.
Having spoken to Jimmy, he had this to say.

On behalf of Jimmy: Takes one to know one!