Introduction
It was 3.16am and I was jolted awake by the loud buzzing of my phone. I answered in a daze, not even looking at who was calling. “Armstrong you slag, write my life story”. It was The Skull Collector. I had come to know The Collector due to my work with Phoenix Wrestling, often being tasked with filming his bizarre rants and having to edit them to be released as promo material. I hung up the phone, assuming he was drunk. He called back. “Hang up on me again boy and I’ll damage your eye socket”, he threatened. “Ok Skull, what do you want”, I asked apprehensively. “Me, you, a biography, let’s change the fucking world, you slag”.
This was the beginning of a few months where I spent a lot of time listening to this man rant and ramble about everything and anything. His life, his history, his thoughts, everything.
I asked him many times if he was lying and he always said no. He said no so many times, that I started to believe him. I know The Skull Collector is Billy Bedlam, but throughout the writing of this I’ve had to separate the two men. I couldn’t let my friendship with Bedlam cloud the job I had been given. I was being paid to write a book about the Skull Collector, so that’s what I had to do.
What does this mean?
This means that the book you are about to read is almost certainly 100 percent lies and fabrication. The claims the Skull Collector makes are both baffling and confusing. He often confuses timelines, people, places and even claims to have invented the wristlock. His view on the world is frankly bizarre, but in a way, I can't help but like the man.
It is true that the Skull Collector is Billy Bedlam. I know this, but my question here is, does the Skull Collector know this? If he does he has presented no signs of an act to me.
I now count myself as a friend of Billy Bedlam, and a friend of The Skull Collector. I’ve separated them both in my mind, and when you read the following chapters, you should too.
This book has been an awful experience to write, but I hope you like reading it.
Remember, everything I write is what I have been told by The Skull Collector, a madman, who talks to a toy and claims that his skull mask is his actual face.
Read with caution.
Yours sincerely
Luke Barry
Chapter 1: Child Prodigy
On The 23rd of November 1947 (or 1974 depending on when you ask him) a legend of the professional wrestling industry was born. The Skull Collector (Birth name, Skaul Koulekter) emerged from his Mother's seasoned valley a happy and energetic child. His Parents, a famous wrestling couple, Staump & “Premier League” Stiker Koulekter claim to have known from the moment they laid eyes on him, that he was destined for Greatness.
“Greatness” was the name of The Koulekter’s World Renowned Family Circus; A place that would have quite the impact on the man who would become legend.
Greatness Family Circus was a traveling enterprise based in and around The London area. The Skull Collector described it as being “Like one of them ones from TV”. His early childhood bed was a wheelbarrow and as a teenager he spent most of his time talking to a thinner version of himself in The Hall of Mirrors.
Schooling for these traveling entertainers was minimal, with Skull learning most of the essentials from a well read clown who played a teacher in his act. His interest in education was minimal, but his interest in Entertainment was ever growing.
From an early age Skull became quite the attraction for “Greatness”, often drawing in crowds of a thousand with his bizarre look and penchant for speaking at length. His Mother, an always loving, righteously religious and deeply racist woman, was without doubt his number one supporter.
“Ooh Nobody can draw a crowd like my boy”, she would often say. “I knew it the moment I saw him. Face like a skull, of course people will pay to see him. Ugly as the day is long he is, and nothing sells like Ugly sells”.
The Skull Collectors relationship with his Mother is something that would baffle Freud himself. For months after her death in June of 1984, as a tribute, he would dress as her in his entrance. Often sending himself into a tearful meltdown and baffling 1980’s wrestling crowds, who were mentally unprepared to see a man with a skull for a face, openly weeping, while wearing his Mother's clothes in a professional wrestling ring.
From the age of three he began to accept payment for advice. “Little Skull’s Got The Answers”, the crowd would chant after Skull would dole out advice to men on the edge.
“Marriage, Money, War, all of em, I solved all of em”, proclaimed Collector, “These sad pathetic man slags had questions, I had answers, and they loved to see the wise boy with the skull for a head”.
His advice giving career hits its peak when at the age of 5 he was summoned to give advice to The Queen of England. It was the day of his 5th birthday. The entire cast of the circus was gathered to sing Happy Birthday to the young orator, when suddenly a car arrived. The car had dark windows and drove too slow to be anyone who knew where they were going. As soon as it got close the circus folk rushed the car and began to rock it from side to side with intent to do damage. “Part Slags, its me they seek” shouted the young Skull Collector. The circus folk stopped, and all parted like the Red Sea, allowing this youthful wiseman to approach the car. The driver inside spoke a single sentence to Skull, “Her Majesty needs little Skull to have the answers”, and with that Young Koulekter got in the car and didn’t return to the circus for 3 days.
I don’t know know what happened over these 3 days, but by all account The Skull Collector, The wisest child of his era, never gave advice commercially again.
This was delightful news to Mr. Koulektor Snr.
His Father, a large masculine brute of a man, hated the idea of his only son speaking for a living. “Speaking”, he would scoff, “is for the weak, only weirdos speak, and that boy with a skull on the outside of his face is already weird enough “. His father would often turn up and protest his sons speaking arrangements, by standing at the front silently. The audience just assumed he was a huge fan, and would follow suit. Thus, these speaking engagements became a silent, almost cult like experience, where the only sound heard was the voice of the young boy with a skull for a head, and a heart full of advice.
Chapter 2: The Koulekter Legacy
With the advice business in his rear view mirror, Young Master Koulekter, upon his Father’s request, began to learn the family business: Wrestling!
The Koulekters are perhaps Europe's most infamous wrestling family, boasting a lineage spanning back to the Greek Olympics. The Koulekters have claimed that their ancestor, Hercules Koulector, was the first ever winner of any competitive wrestling contest in Greece. Hercules supposedly later went on to write the first ever wrestling show. The Koulektors claim that crowds loved it straight away. However, in the last few years some tablets have surfaced with some criticism of these historic shows. “It needs more 8 headed beasts, until an 8 headed beast is in the show, I will not be watching ever again”, the tablets read.
Skull himself is the world's only 98th Generation Wrestler, so I think it’s safe to say Wrestling is in his blood. That being said, he did once claim to not have any blood, stating that he’s “got none left after the feud with that Terry Funk Slag in Japan”.
In the early 1900’s there wasn’t a wrestling show on this planet that didn’t involve the Koulekter family, John “Funk O’ Pop” Koulekter, and Phil “Rare Coin” Koulekter were the world's most infamous Bad Guy Tag Team. Throughout my time with The Skull Collector I have heard him say at least 100 times that this team invented the idea of clapping your hands behind the referees to pretend you made a tag. This, he would say, changed the tag team game forever.
The Koulekters took wrestling seriously, and as a result their training regime was tough. On Day One The Skull Collectors Father snapped his sons spine with a back breaker and said “If you still want to be a wrestler when you heal, we can train”.
After a year of healing, a now 6 year old Skaul Koulektor felt strong, ready and eager. He walked into the Koulektor Dungeon ready to start his new journey. His Father stood at the door with a smile on his face to greet his son. He placed his hands on his sons back as if to hug him. This was a special moment for the young man, as in many ways all he wanted was a hug from his Father. Instead his Father picked him up and black hole slammed him into the boot of a car, drove for 4 miles, then backed the car into a lake and screamed, “If you come back alive, we can train”.
Later that day the skull collector marched into the famous Dungeon, got on the house PA and said, “Dad, You slag, You’ve done some horrible things to me over the last few years. You’ve tried to drown me, you’ve broken my spine, but you will never, ever break my spirit. If you think I’m afraid of a little pain then you’ve got another thing coming, you old slag”.
His Father Marched to the ring, got right in his 6 year old son's face, as if he was about to fight, then turned to walk away. His son grabbed him by the shoulder stopping him in his tracks. Skull extended his hand for a handshake. The other trainees watching began to chant “shake his hand, shake his hand”, his Father kicked his hand away dramatically, much to the annoyance of the crowd, but then he pulled his son in for a hug, leading to an enormous roar from those watching.
This was a huge moment not only for the Koulektor family, but for wrestling in general. The Father and Son duo had in that moment invented a wrestling trope that would be re-enacted for decades, and is known backstage as “The Koulektor Moment” or in Memphis as “The Koul Spot”.
Young Skaul had gained the respect of his Father and therefore was allowed to learn the family business.
I asked The Skull Collector about his training and he said “I dunno, just write a montage or some shit”. This writer is not capable of writing a montage, so it’s up to you the reader to go to youtube, put on a Rocky montage and replace Rocky with a 6 year old boy with a skull on the outside of his face, being trained by his overweight Dad in a circus tent.
I’ll wait until you come back.
Done?
Good!
6 months after his training The young Prodigy was ready for a live show.
Backstage he was a nervous wreck. He ran around the dressing room, borrowing wrist tape from the other wrestlers and awkwardly asking the imports how to apply fake tan. However, when he walked through the curtain and entered the squared circle all the nerves went away. He was set to wrestle a local bad guy Conor “The Coal Man” Coleman. Colemans gimmick was that he delivered your coal late, and forced you to answer the door in your pyjamas, leaving you to feel uncomfortable in your own home.
The crowd was hot, firmly in the corner of the young Koulekter boy.
Halfway through the match tragedy struck.
A mistiming lead to Coleman smashing into the ring post, rendering the Heel unconscious. There was a panic, the crowd began to get rowdy, demanding a refund as a result of the show ending so abruptly.
“Do something boy”, exclaimed Mrs. Koulekter. Skull did the only thing he knew how to do, he spoke. He picked up the microphone and went to the entrance ramp, he sat cross legged and began to talk to the fans.
He spoke for 3-4 minutes about what happened and made the whole thing seem as if it was part of the show. The crowd applauded wildly, fully engaged with the wrestler who spoke the truth. Afterwards the young man, when asked why he thought it worked, proclaimed, “Well, I guess I was just shooting the breeze”. This day The wrestling promo and the term “Shoot” was born!
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