I'd rather laugh with the sinners and cry with the saints. - Billy Joel, Only The Good Die Young.




I'm possibly a more sadistic person than Hunter.

I have to be.

When I heard the news that Steve Austin died, I didn't feel pity, or sorrow. I didn't react like Rocky did, nearly having a damn heart-attack at the statement and then bawling like a baby. I sure as hell didn't react like Hunter, acting like a fucking maniac. I didn't act like Shawn, trying to council the entire world.

Instead, the King of the World, the Ayatolla of Rock and Rolla, decided to do the one thing that would make Hunter shake his head in disgust.

I smiled, and I laughed.

Heaven knows why I did that, cause not even I know.

Maybe it's because of the animosity we had with one another. We didn't like each other, and it's completely evident. Hell, a lot of men hated Steve with a passion. They wanted to rip his guts out, make him cry, make him bleed - maybe find a thrill out of it. Hunter was one of those men.

And me? Maybe I am too. Because I laughed. Hard. Steve Austin's dead. That was a riot. A huge, fucking riot.

I mean, he's Stone Cold Steve Austin. He's the biggest name in sport's entertainment. And he dies? That's like saying God was defeated by the Devil, or saying that the Nazi's actually won World War II. It's fucking blasphemy. Motherfucking idiocy.

And, hell, it just can't be true either.

So who do I talk to in order to pour out what I'm feeling and thinking? The most unexpected person, Chris Benoit. I knew he wasn't listening. He was off in his own little world, the fucking statue. But I told him everything.

I was laughing and joking with a brick wall, with a phantom, a statue, nothing. I told him that this was the most hilarious Wrestlemania so far. I told him that all they needed to hear was that Austin came back from the grave and called himself the next Messiah. Then I knew the world was coming to an end.

He wasn't paying attention at all. I had a feeling when I said Austin would come back to the grave to fuck his sweet ass into the ground. He just nodded his head, brushed past me, and left the room.

I swear it -- if no one laughed would've at that, then they just weren't human at all.

I passed everyone as I went back to my locker room, the one I shared with Christian. Luckily he wasn't in, so I was all by myself. I began laughing hysterically, clutching onto my stomach and unable to breathe for the longest time.

The people's reactions, the way they all looked, how absentminded and foolish they all portrayed themselves as, out of character of how they usually conduct themselves...

THIS WAS TOO MUCH! ALL TOO MUCH!

Austin dies and the whole world goes to fucking hell.

This. Was. Too. Much.

I mean, he's just Stone Cold Steve Austin. He didn't do anything for anybody. He drank beer, he kicked ass, he acted caring and sweet and trustworthy and nice -- big butt fungly deal! The guy wasn't all perfect, he was as imperfect as anyone in the world.

... but he did admit his faults. Like a man. And he meant it when he said he wasn't going to commit them again.

He never did commit those same crimes twice.

Yeah, he was admirable. Whoopie, junior, does it look like I care? No, of course not, I'm fucking laughing my ASS OFF HERE! I could care less about Stone Cold Steve Austin.

I'm laughing cause I mean it. I'm glad he's dead. I'm glad I won't have to hear his stupid jokes or his stupid conversations or how he kept on asking him how I was doing and offering any advice that I needed, in and outside of the ring.

I don't care that I actually took some of his advice and implanted some of it as apart of my personal philosophy. I don't care that I actually bonded with him during the time that he left the company. I don't care that I feel this stinging in my eyes and a blurry softness over my vision.

I. Don't. Care.

So I'm sitting here, ready for Wrestlemania to start, and I'm laughing my damn ass off. My chest is shaking, the memories are haunting, and all I can think about is how hilarious this all is.

Tears begin to fall, and I laugh harder than before. It slowly fades into a mix of happiness and sorrow, comedy and despair... all rolled into one. A laugh for the assclowns, and a laugh for the Jerichoholics.

A laugh for everyone. A laugh for you, Austin.

It's really funny, y'know. It really, really is.

I say I don't care for you, and yet I do. I say that this is hilarious, and yet I'm crying. I say that I'm glad you're dead, and yet I feel this ping inside me telling me that I already miss you and our conversations that we had together.

I'm sitting here, shaking, laughing, crying.

I never liked irony, Steve.

I know you didn't either.

And y'know the best part, Steve? The best part out of all of his hilarious, ludicious facade?

I know that later on, sometime down the road, I'm going to wonder where you are, asking myself if I should call you or not to strike up a conversation, just to hear one of your corny jokes to keep me entertained or have a discussion on music, food, sports, or whatever.

I then it'll hit me like a ton of bricks that you're dead. And I can never have that piece of life again, because it's gone forever, until I see you again on the other side.

You weren't always good at jokes, Steve.

But this is the best punchline you could ever make.

And so I'm gonna sit here, and keep laughing at that joke, Steve, and I'm probably gonna be laughing for the rest of my life. I think that's the only way I'm going to be able to repay you for all that you've done for more.

Bravo, junior. Bravo.

You were able to make the great King of Bling Bling weep for you, in both laughter and in sorrow. Only you could do that, Steve.

I don't know whether to thank you or kill you. But then again, you've already chosen the latter, if not unwillingly.

I could care less about you dying, Steve. I really don't care.

Yeah, I know, I'm lying again. Fuck off, I'm good at it. You told me to be honest every once in a while. So here's to you, Steve. Here's the only truthful thing I'm going to say to you.

I don't care about you dying, Steve. But I'll always treasure the moments between us when you were alive.

I'll see you later, Steve.

For now, I'm just gonna sit here, and laugh.

I ain't gonna cry. That's for assclowns.