Undisputed_ How to Become the World Champion in 1,372 Easy Steps - Chris Jericho [116]
After a few shots, Lemmy poured me a glass of fine merlot and went to greet the rest of his backstage guests, one of whom was legendary singer Ronnie James Dio. Lemmy introduced me to Dio, who shook my hand and told me he really enjoyed the show and thought I had a good voice. I thanked him and promptly pissed myself. I asked him if we could take a picture, and when I put my arm around him I spilled my wine all over the front of his shirt.
I was totally embarrassed and apologized profusely.
Dio smirked. “It’s okay, man, I’m wearing black anyway.”
“I’m really sorry, Ronnie, I hope you forgive me. I just don’t want you to put a curse on me,” I said, smiling.
Dio stared at me and said grimly, “How do you know that I haven’t already?”
Then he threw his trademark devil horn gesture in my face and made a spitting sound. I stood motionless, paralyzed with fear that Dio the wizard had just put a hex on me, until he burst out laughing and said he was only kidding.
I promptly pissed myself.
There were a lot of other celebrities backstage at the Wiltern, including Kerry King from Slayer, Juliette Lewis, Nicolas Cage, and Jenna Jameson (who told me she had a crush on me, whoop whoop).
I was a big fan of Jon Lovitz from his SNL days and thought it was pretty froot when he came over and began talking to me. But I was so bored after three minutes of his conversation I wanted to shove bamboo splints up my penis. He kept asking the most frivolous questions possible.
“What do the ropes feel like? Are they made of actual rope?”
I smiled awkwardly. “Yeah, they’re made of rope with tape wrapped around it.”
“Oh, there’s tape wrapped around them … like gaffer’s tape? Masking tape? Electrical tape? What kind of tape?”
Before I could reply he continued his onslaught of dullness. “Tell me more about the ropes. What are the ropes made of? Hemp? Twine? And those ref shirts, are they made of cotton or …”
Finally I asked Lovitz if he wanted a drink and never came back. He’s probably still in the bowels of the Wiltern, wondering what kind of fiber the ring ropes are made of.
The WWE had brokered a sponsorship deal with an energy drink company to hawk a product called YJ Stinger. They brought me on as their spokesman and the marketing department put together a campaign based around Fozzy. They flew the band out to L.A. and we filmed two commercials based around our song “Don’t You Wish You Were Me.” But the catch was we had to change the lyrics to something a little more YJ Stinger– friendly.
While my original lyrics went:
Don’t you wish you were me? The king of all you see
Don’t you wish you were me? It ain’t that easy
Don’t think you’ll ever be? everything a man should be
Don’t you wish you were me? Keep dreaming, you’ll never be me
—the corporate sellout lyrics went:
Don’t you wish you were me? The king of energy
Don’t you wish you were me? It ain’t that easy
Don’t you want sugar-free? Now in rage raspberry
Don’t you wish you were me? Catch the buzz and feel the sting
Rage raspberry? So blatant that even the girls at the Chicken Ranch called us whores.
But we weren’t Pearl Jam on a crusade to fight Ticketmaster. We were starving musicians trying to make a living and had no problem selling out—no problem at all.
Riding on the success of our hit single “Enemy” and the national commercial, we decided to do a short run of autumn gigs called the Fall That Remains Tour. We played in nice halls and back-alley clubs, ending up a gig in a sports bar in Hershey where we couldn’t sound-check until the high school reunion that was taking place finished. Afterwards in our dressing room/storage closet, I sternly told the bar manager, “Dammit, I told you the sign on the door should say Fozzy first, High School Reunion second!!” and threw my leather jacket down aloofly on a stack of Heinz ketchup tins.
Some gigs were packed with amazing fans who sang along with every song, genuinely excited to see us, and other shows were worse than anything in the Anvil movie. But one gig in particular stands out as the all-time biggest nightmare in Fozzy