It was always going to be one of those nights where you don’t really know what would happen, but you always assumed it wasn’t going to be anything noteworthy. It wasn’t jaded cynicism (for the most part, one would hope), but rather weary, trained caution on the part of today’s wrestling fan. And because that caution exists, nobody could’ve ever been truly prepared for what did come next.
Because fate would strike – as a wild Funkasaurus appeared!
It’s been two days after that night, and I assume the word has already spread far and wide by now. An alien from Planet Funk has crash-landed (not literally, though) on our world, this world of chaos, taking on the identity of some kind of previously unknown dancing dinosaur, as well as a big man who was supposed to be debuting as a no-nonsense monster named Brodus Clay. The Universe, as always, did not know how to react, as they were predictably dumbfounded as to how they would take in the news of seeing something that was once previously extinct be alive and well right in front of them, gyrating and throwing his weight around willy-nilly. But most of them liked what they saw by the end of it.
Why, though? Why did they like such an unusual creature, and why was bringing a Funkasaurus in such a good idea? Come, have a seat as I list a small handful of ways.
First, the Funkasaurus seems to enjoy himself. Like a dog without a care in the world, the Funkasaurus enjoys himself in his natural state; doing what it wants to do, and what it is built to do. You can see that in the glint of mischief in his eyes, his grinned teeth showing freely, and his barkings are proud as he picks apart his prey methodically, yet gracefully. And after he is finished, he gamely engages in his own victory ritual without sign of shame nor guilt – only joy. Primal joy.
This is why the Funkasaurus is a wonder to watch in action. His work is like the swagger of nature, manifested in the form of a savage brute. We’ve only seen it happen once – for now – but we’re already enraptured. All right, moving on now.
The Funkasaurus has found his own place in the food chain. In the land, there are creatures and monsters as big as, or even bigger than, the Funkasaurus, and he – and natural selection itself – has found his own place where he does not disturb them, for now. There are monsters bigger than him, and monsters more ferocious, and even monsters seemingly born from the depths of hell.
He knows where his place is for now, as he serves his part of the food chain well, not clogging and trying to compete with the predators at the top. But he can hold his own, and can be a predator on occasion. In the meantime, he must wait patiently for that occasion.
He will pounce at the opportunity when nature decides to have her way with the hunters at the top, and he will have more than enough ability – of grace and of strength and power – to one day rule the food chain decisively. However, not only does he have a niche in the food chain, but he also contributes to it, because…
The Funkasaurus’s existence allows for diversity, and more importantly – the existence of similar creatures. The Funkasaurus, while potentially dominant, is also eccentric; thus, it is a bit of a stranger in this new habitat.
However, its success in this environment will encourage the evolution of other eccentric yet able predators, creating a much diverse ecology where many different hunters, and ultimately, styles of hunting, can thrive. Diversity is truly better for the environment itself, if it means it has a chance to not get swamped by the trappings and doldrums of monotony and become a truly interesting and fascinating place.
So at this point, still relatively little is known about the Funkasaurus, but it is safe to conclude that he has successfully picqued the curiosity of most. However, some observers will still look upon the Funkasaurus with confusion, and even disdain, until he proves the best of his abilities to them, but the rest who are already impressed will just continue to be enthralled.
But the Funkasaurus will pay no mind to any of them. He is just content to be on his own merry, mischievous, and not to mention dangerous way, carelessly yet also carefully destroying those who dare step in it. And as he tears his prey apart with that same primal glee, we also indulge our own as we sit here and enjoy not only his brutal handiwork, but as well as his strangely jubilant self. We only accept the latter from our dear hunter, however, as long as he clearly proves himself with the former.
Such is nature, and nature is strange. Long live the Funkasaurus!