I Forced an AI to Write an Ultimate Warrior Promo

I'm not what you would call an expert programmer. In hindsight, with the journalism world the way it is now, I should have learned how to code better. You've seen my website I dedicated to my first ever video game; it's terrible. However, if there's one thing life has taught me, it's to be creative. And what better way to be creative than to piggy-bag off of ideas and make them better? It's what Vince McMahon did, after all. So, in order to get me going, I decided to summon up some warrior spirit by making an advanced AI listen to a bunch of Ultimate Warrior promos, matches, interviews, and even his comic books.

The results are why creativity should have its limits, and strict sanctions should be put on the development and coding of artificial intelligence. I tried to code in direction and focus, but Warrior.exe wouldn't listen, and just kept going on.

I booted up the program. There he was. The Ultimate Warrior was there, wearing his traditional facepaint. With every camera cut, the colors of the facepaint changed. I don't know why. I didn't program them in. The Warrior had not begun to speak, and I was already frightened. That primordial, damning fear of unleashing a plague upon our world. Like Pandora opening the box, only with more steroids, cocaine and homophobia.

Before speaking, he just stood there in my screen, panting. He looked frustrated and sweaty, like me after trying to impress the opposite sex. He let in a deep inhale that morphed into a powerful, deep snorting noise, like a wild pig in labor. I moved to the left, but his eyes began to follow me. I had no webcam plugged in. There was no way the program could know that I was there. I don't know what would be more terrifying: Him just staring at me and breathing like those men in black suits that stand outside my window, or The Ultimate Warrior cutting a promo at seemingly nothing. My own thoughts were cut off by the sound of a name...

Hoak Hogan... Destrucity is the convergence and offspring of both destiny and reality. The destiny of me beating you, Huk Hogan! The destiny my of taking the World Wrestling Federation Heavyweight Champion of the Universe Title Belt away from your hands in the battlefield of Madison Square Garden, Hug Hugan! In front of tens of thousands of millions of Hulkamaniacs, knowing that their savior will fail them, Hulk Hogun! Huhk Hogan! You will fail them, Hulg Ogan! The reality, Hulg Gogan, that I am the true World Wrestling Federation Championship holder, and that you are merely a placeholder for nothing, HUHG HOGAN!!!

In between the world of flesh and the world of spirit lies destiny and reality, Huhk Huhgun! Flesh given to me by my own spirit and preserverance, the kind that can only be gained by being the Ultimate Warrior and not you Huk Hoggon! The spirit that allows me to go on because of my flesh being put into action, and my spirit being put into action to strengthen the fleeesh, Hugogan!

Terry Bollea was nowhere around me. I was the only one there. His eyes kept following me as if I were the camera... As if I were Hulk Hogan. I unplugged my PC, but it was still on; The monitor was still on, and Warrior began to go on. I couldn't even test my theory that the ghost in the machine could see me; I was frozen with fear. Moving was impossible. He... It... Just kept talking about nothing to nothing. I hoped it was nothing. I prayed to a god that wasn't there that it was nothing.

Call Warrior University today, Hukh Hogan! If you wish to achieve the true DESTRUCITY of the ideals of victory! Queering doesn't make the world right, but I WIIIIIIILLLL!!!

With the remainder of my psyche and free will, I broke free from my prison of fear and smashed at the keyboard, hoping it would do something. I should have added a fail-safe for this, but I was too stupid to understand. I was a fool, no better than Victor Frankenstein. However, some combination I smashed onto the keyboard seemed to stop the program and delete system 32 on my computer. The beast, I imagined was dead. Destroyed. Destrucitied. Warrior.exe was no more. No file-sharing site could retrieve it, and no hacker alive could remove it from the brain-dead pile of wires that was my PC.

Until this morning, things were normal, until I checked my phone. It was at that point when I opened  my messages app that it wasn't dead. There were no words. I created a monster that couldn't be killed. Every minute of every hour, anonymous numbers have been sending me this image.

Someone, please help me.

Wrestling Signs (Not for Everyone, Due to Language and Themes)

With wrestling going back to TNT in the form of All Elite Wrestling and WWE's Smackdown going to Fox, both of which are happening next month, wrestling's on a lot of people's minds. Likewise, we've all seen a guy with a "Circle Me, Bert" sign at a Twins game. It's a harmless sign, it gets some guy some air time.

However, wrestling fans are known to a bit spicier in their opinions and choices of words. Now, I know it isn't real, but I assure you, if Game of Thrones was a live Pay-Per-View like what WWE does on a monthly basis, there would be angry signs and boos that would damn near drown out the show  itself. With that being said, here are some of the funnier and saucier signs in wrestling history. I'm not making a list, and I'm not restricting myself to just WWE, though most of them are from there. Be warned, this isn't for the faint of heart. The one above is just to shield Facebook users from all the vulgarity.

 Right off the bat, we have a Bret Hart sign. A lot of the heat Hart had wasn't due to the fact that he was a bad guy for torturing Stone Cold in the ring, it's because he's Canadian. No wonder Canadian WWE fans boo everything else.

That's not a very nice thing to say about Stardust!

If you look up "double murder suicide" on Google, one of the first thing's you'll find is the Chris Benoit incident. I'm not joking, this one is actually a little messed up.

"Because it can put me out in a few minutes and becomes Universal Champion!"

 Another Bret Hart sign. This one is less creative. "Get it? Hart rhymes with Fart!"

The safety word is "Bret Screwed Bret".

You don't even work for the man, and you're fired.

Believe it or not, there was a time when fans didn't like Dwayne Johnson. Before complaining online was a thing, there's only one thing you could do: Send death threats!

The strangest part is that this sign looks professionally made, unlike the other signs on this entry. It looks like he went to some custom sign store, if such a thing exists. The lettering and the materiel look too good just to be a paper sign. What do I know?

Spelled incorrectly on purpose? Probably. An inside joke? Probably. The thing is, Eddie Guerrero was beloved by fans, so it blows my mind that people would still throw in the Latin American stereotype, and in public, on TV.

There we go. There's a clever Bret Hart sign.