Undisputed_ How to Become the World Champion in 1,372 Easy Steps - Chris Jericho [35]
Then I did another interview as Moongoose, who said he’d never heard of Jericho but thought he should be sued for ripping off his act.
The way the piece was filmed and edited, it really looked like Moongoose and I were two separate people. After the piece aired, quite a few people were totally confused as to what the hell was going on. Brooklyn Brawler, who’d been working people for fifteen years as a wrestler, asked me, “Did you hear what that Moongoose guy said about you? What a jerk! But that band he plays in is pretty good. I can’t believe I’ve never heard of them before.”
I gave him a bewildered look and said, “Come on, Steve! It’s me … I’m Moongoose McQueen!”
He gave me a wan smile and said, “Oh. I thought Fozzy was real.”
So did I. So much so that I refused to break character—ever. When I did interviews as Moongoose, I acted like I had no clue who Jericho was. I fell into the Clifton/Kaufman act and wouldn’t budge, no matter who tried to make me break character, even Vince McMahon himself.
Fozzy was booked to be the musical guest on Sunday Night Heat, a pseudo variety show that aired on MTV on Thursdays—okay, just making sure you’re still paying attention.
The idea was that Moongoose and the rest of Fozzy would arrive at the show, act like prima donna rock stars, and finally hit the stage to throw down with a live performance. All of the preparation and scripting was going great until an hour before showtime when the word came down from above that Vince decided he didn’t want Moongoose to be Moongoose. Instead, he wanted Moongoose to be Chris Jericho. He didn’t like that I was claiming that we were separate people.
But he wanted me to drop the façade onstage and admit that I was really me. I was so committed in what we were doing that I was adamant to not give up the (moon) Goose. I called Vince and told him that I wanted to keep the two characters separate. It’s totally preposterous today to think that I was willing to debate my boss over Moongoose McQueen, but I was insistent.
“Vince, Moongoose is just a character I’m playing.”
“Why would I allow you to play a character on our show?”
“Well, have you ever heard of Andy Kaufman’s Tony Clifton?”
“No, I haven’t, and I don’t care. Our fans aren’t stupid and they’ll resent you for trying to fool them with this.”
Fooling wrestling fans by playing a character with a storyline and a performance?? Never!! Besides, I was a heel, so wasn’t it the idea to make people resent me?
I offered a compromise to Vince: “Well, can I say onstage that Fozzy is Chris Jericho’s favorite band? Like in a nudge-nudge, wink-wink kind of way?”
Vince agreed. “Okay, you can do it as long as you insinuate that it’s you.”
That’s what I did and the joke worked.
Unfortunately, the concept of Fozzy wasn’t working, and even though we were a pretty smokin’ rock and roll band, nobody was buying what we were selling.
Nobody, that is, with the exception of our record company.
Jonny Z and the rest of Megaforce were still treating us like we were Metallica circa 1984. We kept hearing how we were going to break out huge, and some of us started to believe it. After one particularly rousing Jonny Z pep talk, Frank was so excited because he was convinced that after all his years in the music business, he’d finally be headlining arenas with Fozzy. I, on the other hand, woulda been happy headlining a kid’s birthday party for a hot dog and a glass of orange juice.
On October 22, 2000, the day the record was released, we went to New York City for a media day. We played a short set at the Virgin Megastore in Times Square to a big crowd and had a successful CD signing afterwards. Then we appeared on a number of radio shows, and everywhere we went I stayed in the Moongoose McQueen character no matter what.
Since part of the backstory was that Fozzy was stuck in the ’80s, we dressed accordingly. Leopard-print vests, skintight pants, studded leather wristbands: we looked absolutely ridiculous, but we were committed to the act and had no problem keeping in character. I’d been in show business