“Are you ready for this, Swagger? Because this is a big deal and if you fuck this up, it’s going to make me look bad and that is unacceptable. If I feel you are getting a big head or demeaning this title in any way, I’m going to come after you, do you understand?”
Swagger nodded, wide-eyed, and promised he wouldn’t let me down. He left the office and Vince asked, “That was a little stiff, wasn’t it?”
I didn’t think so. Swagger was having a lot thrown on his shoulders that day and I didn’t want to sugarcoat it for him. Being the champion was a huge responsibility and I wanted to strike a little fear into his heart to help prepare him for what was about to come.
Later that night, Edge speared me into oblivion, which was Swagger’s cue to cash in the briefcase (which allowed him a title shot whenever he chose) and challenge me for the title. He gave the case to the ref, who quickly rang the bell, and Swagger dragged me up for his finish. When he stuck my head between his legs to give me his gut-wrench powerbomb, it reminded me of an idea I’d had years earlier in WCW but never got to do. I’d wanted Goldberg to literally spear me out of my shoes at the end of a PPV match, but since we never had the match, I thought it would be fun to do the same thing with Swags. I had a few seconds, as he played to the crowd, so I loosened my heel inside my dress shoe. Then as he pulled me up onto his shoulders, I kicked it off and shot it straight into the fans.
If you were in Las Vegas that night and caught my size eleven Hugo Boss, you possess the rarest of all Jericho merchandise. And now that the secret is out, I predict it will be more sought after than the Y2J bowling ball.
That’s Why I Listen
I got a call from Johnny that Lorne Michaels was producing a movie for the Saturday Night Live character MacGruber and wanted a group of WWE superstars to appear in the film. Mark Henry, MVP, Big Show, Kane, and Great Khali had already agreed to do it and they wanted me as well. Any time I’ve done projects outside the WWE, I’ve always tried to stay away from clichéd wrestling parts, so I was wary of agreeing right away. If all they wanted me to do was to have a wrestling match in the background of a scene or whatever, I wasn’t interested. So in typical Jericho fashion, before agreeing to be in a major motion picture, I asked to see the script first.
They sent it to me and not only was it really funny, but I was the only WWE guy who had any lines in the film. I was happy to see that my character also had a name (I had no interest in being Lunkhead #2) and a one-on-one scene with MacGruber himself, played by Will Forte. I was Frank Korver, the leader of a group of mercenaries that MacGruber assembles to eliminate the evil Dieter Von Cunth and then accidentally blows up.
The MacGruber character is a parody of MacGyver, and is a bumbling doofus who constantly tries to disarm weapons but in the end just blows himself and his friends up. This was the first movie based on an SNL skit in years, so Lorne and his crew had high hopes for it. So did I, as it was my first big-budget movie and I wanted to make a good impression.
I flew into Albuquerque, New Mexico, a day early to hang around the set and meet all of my coworkers (like Speewee had for Boots), including director Jorma Taccone, who told me to shave the mustache I’d grown for the part because it was “too gay”; producer Seth Meyers, who was wearing a Coneheads baseball cap and told me if I had any funny ideas to give them a try; and stars Will Forte and Kristen Wiig, former Groundlings who were impressed that I’d also spent a year with the legendary improv troupe. As is usually the case when fellow improv-ers meet for the first time, we engaged in a bunch of unfunny comedy bits and laughed like we were Robin Williams in 1978. But lucky for me, my second attempt at engaging Forte in improv the next day was much more successful.
We were filming my big one-on-one scene with MacGruber in a sweaty little boxing gym on the outskirts of town, and it was stifling hot inside. The scene started with Grubes interrupting Korver’s workout after finally tracking me down. We would banter for a few seconds until he asked me to rejoin his team and that would be the end of it. Pretty simple really, but once again in typical Jericho fashion, I decided my two lines weren’t enough and wanted more. With Will’s Groundlings training, I figured if I shot an extra line over to him, there was a good chance he’d pick it up. Plus, Seth had already encouraged me to be creative, so I figured nobody would get mad if I threw something extra against the sweaty gym wall. The worst thing that could happen was they would cut and tell me to stick to the script, right?
We ran through the scene a few times as it was written, while the lighting and sound guys set everything up, and waited until everyone was ready to go. If I was gonna take the chance to throw out some extra lines, I wanted to wait until the cameras were rolling and everybody was listening to what I was saying.
Jorma yelled “Action!” and I started bench-pressing until MacGruber called my name. I racked the weights in surprise, shocked that he was still alive.
“MacGruber?! The last time I saw you, you had just ripped a dude’s throat out with your bare hands!”
“Classic MacGruber. Looks like you’re keeping your bod pretty tight.”
“You’re looking pretty good yourself.”
“Well, every day is a workout when you have to carry around a twenty-pound python in your jeans.”
Now I was supposed to tell him we’d had some good times together, and that would be the end of my dialogue. While I felt fortunate to have been asked to be in the movie, my two lines were merely setups for MacGruber’s jokes and I didn’t want to be the only guy in a comedy who didn’t get any laughs. So I thought I’d take a chance and instead of reciting my scripted line, I said, “You and your dick comments.”
I didn’t know if Will would take the bait and run with it or have a tantrum and kick me off the set. To my pleasant surprise, he ran with it.
“It’s fun to say them.”
OK, not bad, kind of funny. Now, like in a tennis match, it was my turn to volley something back at him quickly.
“It’s fun to hear them.”
Will was into it and with perfect timing replied, “That’s why I say them.”
The sign of a good improv scene is when it takes on a life of its own and this one just had. But I needed a tagline and a millisecond later I found it.
“And that’s why I listen.”
There was a brief pause after Jorma yelled “Cut!” and everyone on set burst out laughing, including Forte, Wiig (the funniest woman in America), and more important, Lorne Michaels, who’d snuck in when I wasn’t watching. I’m glad I didn’t see him, because I don’t know if I would’ve had the balls to go off script if I knew he was watching.
But my ad libs were a hit and Jorma wanted to shoot the scene a few more times with my additional dialogue included. After a couple additional takes, we wrapped and I walked outside to get some fresh air. I was surprised to see Lorne, who was sitting in a canvas folding chair in middle of Video Village.
“Chris, I want to tell you that you were very funny. Thank you for your input.”
While it was awesome to get a compliment like that from one of the greatest comedy minds of all time, there was something more distracting that was diverting my attention.
I couldn’t get over how much Lorne sounded like Dr. Evil.
I’d always heard the rumor that Mike Myers had based his Austin Powers Dr. Evil character on Lorne Michaels, and after hearing him talk in person, there was no doubt in my mind that he had. His voice and mannerisms were exactly the same; all he needed was a bald cap and Verne Troyer by his side.
It was hard not to laugh as I chatted with Lorne about comedy and Canada, then I started noticing the similarities between him and another visionary I knew: Vince McMahon.
Think about it. Both created worldwide empires by taking a chance and doing something revolutionary. Both were told their respective brainchilds would never work and that they were crazy to even try. And both had created iconic en
tertainment juggernauts whose success rode on the shoulders of the individual performers who starred on the shows throughout the years.
Both men had to constantly regroup and create new stars when flagship names left their companies, whether it was Chevy Chase, Eddie Murphy, Adam Sandler, and Will Ferrell on SNL or Hulk Hogan, Bret Hart, Steve Austin, and The Rock in the WWE. They could make or break careers on a whim, as both decided who got the most airtime on their respective shows and determined who would get the chance to be the breakout stars or who would fade away, no matter how talented. Don’t believe me? Check out Julia Louis-Dreyfus or Chris Rock’s success on SNL or Bobby Roode and Barry Windham’s in the WWE.
Plus, Vince and Lorne were both quirky, powerful, intimidating bosses whose distinct voices were often imitated by their employees.
I finished my conversation with Lorne, went back inside the gym, and beelined it over to Will.
“Dude, I just spoke to Lorne and I can’t believe how much he sounds like Dr. Evil! It was so exact that I was expecting him to raise his pinky to his mouth and—”
Forte waved his hand in front of his throat in a slashing motion. My smile disappeared and I turned around slowly, certain that Lorne was standing behind me. He wasn’t, but now Will was pointing desperately at my lav, the little mic clipped to the neckline of my tank top.
TURN THAT OFF, Will was mouthing to me frantically. I reached around to the pack on my belt and pulled the cord out.
“Take the batteries out!”
Concerned now, I took the back off the pack and shook them out into the palm of my hand.
“You can’t say that!!”
“Say what?” I replied like Richard Pryor.
“You can never say that Lorne sounds like Dr. Evil! He hates it!”
“But he does sound like Dr. Evil.”
“Of course he does! But he doesn’t think he does and hates it when people say so. If he hears you saying anything about it, he’ll probably fire you on the spot! So don’t ever mention it again.”
I thanked him for the heads-up; but what if Lorne HAD been listening to me in Video Village and was now waiting to fire me on the spot?
“Chris!”
I turned to see Lorne walking toward me.
This was it. I was going to be embarrassed in front of the entire cast and kicked off the set. I was never going to work in comedy again.
“Just wanted to say great work again today, Chris. See you tomorrow,” Lorne said with a tight-lipped smile.
He shook my hand and I stifled a giggle, thinking about The Alan Parsons Project.
—
I was on set the next morning at five thirty A.M., shivering in an unheated trailer as the predawn drizzle danced off the cold tin roof. Even though we were in New Mexico in May, it was freezing outside and I couldn’t wait to start filming to get some movement going. The day’s scene consisted of MacGruber’s mercenaries getting blown up after he inadvertently sets off a bomb in their van. It was an intricate shot that was going to take some time to get right, hence the early call time.
Kane, MVP, Mark Henry, and I were all on time and accounted for, but nobody could find the The Great Khali. After trying to track him down for hours, he finally answered his phone at nine A.M. While the rest of us had been up and ready at five A.M., Khali thought the pickup was for five P.M. and had spent the night ninety miles away in Santa Fe with some of his minions.
Khali was such a massive star in his native India that he would be chauffered around and wined and dined by his fellow Punjabis in almost every city in America. But while he was in Santa Fe acting like a big shot, the rest of the cast and crew were on set in Albuquerque waiting for him. Nobody seemed too upset about the delay, but I was. I felt he was giving the WWE a bad rap and fucking me over personally, because if anybody found out the delay was due to the “wrestlers” not being ready, that would make us all look like shit.
By the time he finally arrived on set a little after eleven A.M. and loped into his trailer without a word of apology to anybody, I was furious. I was cold, tired, and pissed off at his nonchalant attitude, so I threw open the door of his trailer and got right in his face.
“What the hell, man?” I said, looking him straight in the eye (which was only possible because he was sitting down). “You made us late for this scene because you were too lazy to get up on time. And everybody has been waiting on you! You made us ALL look bad, and if you ever do anything like this again, I will punch you right in your stupid giant face. Do you understand?!”
Khali glanced at me, the smirk never leaving his face, and said, “No problem, bro.”
I stormed out of the trailer and bumped right into Val Kilmer . . . literally.
He was wearing black Crocs and a full set of green medical scrubs, even though he wasn’t playing a doctor in the movie. Those were just his regular clothes. He glared at me and made a noise like the governor in Blazing Saddles.
“Harumph!” he growled as he brushed past me.
With all the adrenaline running through me after stupidly challenging Khali to a fistfight, he’s lucky I didn’t make him my huckleberry and knock him the fuck out.
Team MacGruber fired up and ready to go only minutes before we are blown to pieces. Lorne Michaels himself gave me this picture in a pure silver frame after we wrapped the movie.
Even though MacGruber bombed at the box office, it became a cult classic due to constant cable repeats and a great word of mouth. It’s a favorite bus movie of Avenged Sevenfold and Bumpershine, and John Mayer loves it so much, he can recite the whole script verbatim. Seriously.
I was at an SNL after-party when he approached me, wearing a full storm trooper outfit (it was Halloween) and talking a bunch of gibberish. I’d never met him before and thought he was just really drunk, but after a few seconds, I realized he was perfectly reciting my lines from MacGruber.
“It’s fun to hear them.”
“That’s why I say them.”
“That’s why I listen.”
Mayer finished up the scene, then gave me his critique of my performance (his favorite scene of the film), his review of the movie (“an all-time modern comedic classic”), and his theory of how MacGruber was actually social commentary on the state of the world today.
Maybe it would’ve made more sense if he was just really drunk.
—
MacGruber was enough of a hit that Will, Kristen, and Ryan Phillippe were asked to guest host Raw at the Izod center in New Jersey (this was the show we flew in from Madrid for). I filmed a brilliant backstage bit with Will and Kristen, where I claimed to be starring in the sequel, sang a new version of the MacGruber theme using my name instead (Ja-REEKO!), and gave him advice for his “match” with Great Khali (I should’ve told him to punch him in his “stupid giant face”). Then I flirted with Kristen’s character, Vicki, until she walked away singing my new theme song (Ja-REEKO!). It was a real test to have to hold my own with two of the funniest people in America, and I was proud of how funny it turned out to be.
After the show, Brian Gewirtz and I hung out with Kristen and her parents (who were big Y2J fans) and then went to meet with Forte and the rest of the SNL cast for dinner in Manhattan. It was like sitting in a WWE production meeting watching them discuss plans for that week’s show, hosted by Inception’s Joseph Gordon-Levitt. They debated what skits would work, which ones wouldn’t, and which ones might get cut last-minute by Lorne.
The conversation was delicious and my dinner even more so, especially when I noticed they had “Fresh Baked Apple Crisp” on the menu. Apple crisp was one of my mom’s specialties, and even though nobody has ever made it as good as she did, it was rare to find it on a menu anywhere and I was dying to try it. Brian and Will agreed that the dessert choices were amazing and were excited to try something as well. We waited an unusually long time for the waitress to come ba
ck and I was practically drooling when she finally did.
“Hi,” I said cheerily. “I’d like to get the ‘Fresh Baked Apple Crisp’ for dessert, please. It sounds amazing!”
“I’m sorry, sir, but your tab has been closed. Joseph Gordon-Levitt paid for everybody,” she said with a smile.
What? That son of a bitch Levitt paid the whole tab without first asking if anybody wanted anything else? Who does that? I mean the nerve of that solipsistic blowhard! He had committed the most heinous of all culinary crimes. . . . Joseph Gordon-Levitt was a Dessert Denier!
To make up for the horrible reality that we wouldn’t be having any dessert, we started drinking heavily and were pretty loaded when we left to meet Phillippe at a club. Forte and Jason Sudeikis were quite impressed that I was one-half of the double tag-team champions (along with Show), and insisted on walking through Times Square while wearing the titles. Thankfully, we didn’t get mugged, as I would’ve had a hard time explaining the missing belts to Vince (he probably would’ve made an angle out of it).
We turned into a dark alleyway that was supposed to lead to the club, but only found a cluster of small Chinese shops instead. Then Will knocked on one of the unmarked doors and I wasn’t sure if I was about to buy a drink or a Gremlin.
A blob of a man opened the door and, after exchanging a few words with Forte, led us through a kitchen and up a flight of stairs into one of the most happening clubs I’ve ever been in. Scantily clad knockouts were gyrating on the packed dance floor bathed in laser lights as house music pounded through the massive speakers at full volume. The walls must’ve been lined with titanium to keep the place soundproof, for I hadn’t heard a single note in the alleyway below.
We went over to the VIP section where Ryan was hanging with his posse. He’d just been divorced from Reese Witherspoon, and the small sectioned-off area was boob to boob with girls of all shapes and sizes. In the few interactions we had, Ryan was really froot to me and greeted me with open arms. After some small talk, of which I only heard every two words he said due to the pounding beat, he introduced me to a couple of guys standing beside us.
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