Because professional wrestling is “fake”, those who aren’t fans of WWE—as opposed to the people who claim to hate it, but still watch it —remain in a state of pure denial when confronted with the concept of blading. To these people—and we’re the f*cking idiots, apparently—wrestlers pour sachets of blood over their foreheads, even ketchup, to achieve the desired effect.
In their defence, impractical though this is, it’s equally as batsh*t as the way in which that desired effect is achieved; after years of swarming to magazine stands, beckoned by the sight of wrestlers caked in the red stuff, we learned that pro wrestlers voluntarily slice open their own foreheads, avoiding arteries with a superficial cut, to sell the viciousness of their heel opponents (or, unless you are Triple H at WrestleMania 21, to sell how f*cking hard as nails you are).
Jake Roberts, on Steve Austin’s podcast, elaborated on the actual technique—one Abdullah The Butcher simply ignored, among significantly worse things. To avoid scarring, and to conceal the act from fans, the wrestler must flick their wrist with a quick, twisting motion to hide in plain sight the dark art.
This revelation blew minds. Wrestlers cut themselves, for real, for our delectation.