Screaming, gibbering savages from the alleged darkest regions of the world have been staple monster heels in professional wrestling almost since the industry began. After all, no one ever lost money gambling on the casual xenophobia of the white American or European in the mid to late 20th century. Today, such a character is more or less an anachronism a throwback to a less enlightened time. The WWEs Umaga was probably the last successful example of an old school savage heel, and only worked at all due to Eddie Fatus remarkable talent as a wrestler and his considerable commitment to the thankless task of playing a mindless, barbarically violent racist stereotype. And then theres Abdullah the Butcher. For over fifty years, the 400 pound Madman From The Sudan has carved a bloody swath (usually with his signature weapon, a fork) across the world, his brutality bringing hardcore, garbage wrestling to crowds worldwide long, long before either term was invented to describe it. An unholy terror, the real life Lawrence Shreve has such deep divots in his forehead from a lifetime of blading and gouging that his party trick is inserting large coins into them. In all that time, the Butcher has barely changed his appearance or his gimmick, keeping more or less off television and sticking to the tried and tested schtick of arriving like a nightmare in a local promotion to terrorise the top babyface for an evenings grotesque entertainment. Even today, theres no one quite as unnerving as Abdullah the Butcher.
Professional writer, punk werewolf and nesting place for starfish. Obsessed with squid, spirals and story. I publish short weird fiction online at desincarne.com, and tweet nonsense under the name Jack The Bodiless. You can follow me all you like, just don't touch my stuff.
