My Journey to the Palace of Wisdom

With John Morrison’s stock rising in the WWE, I wanted to get to know the man behind the abs to gain some perspective about who John Morrison really is.

My pestering and prodding scored me an interview with the Guru of Greatness (eat your heart out, John Harris!!) at his home; the Palace of Wisdom!

The following is a true account of what occurred on my trip to the palace…

I was initially shocked to discover that the Palace of Wisdom is actually located in San Antonio, Texas. This came as a huge surprise to me because John Morrison brags about being an “A-List” celebrity from Los Angeles.

Also, I can’t quite put my finger on who it is, but I’m almost positive there is a very established wrestler who hails from San Antonio.

Oh well, it’s probably nobody that important.

I arrived at the palace around 10 in the morning, anxious to explore the grounds and to meet the Friday Night Delight. I excitedly rang the doorbell, but boy was I surprised by the doorbell ringer .

Eventually a middle aged woman answered the door:

Woman: What do you want? You’re not a Jehovah’s Witness are you?

Me: No ma’am. My name is Michael Salvatore; I’m here to interview John Morrison. Who might you be?

Woman: His mother.

Me: (thinking to myself) He still lives with his mother!?!?

Mrs. Morrison: Hang on, I’ll get him. (Yelling) John! Johnny! Johnny Spade! You have company!

Let me make one thing clear, the Shaman of Sexy did not look very sexy walking down in his pajamas .

Morrison: Mooooom! I told you not to call me that anymore. My name is John Morrison now!

Mrs. Morrison: Whatever. You have a guest.

Morrison: Ah jeez, I forgot about you. Give me two minutes to find some pants.

Me: Wow…

Morrison: Okay, I’m ready. Hit my entrance music, mom!

Me: Do you really need to walk down the stairs in slow motion?

Morrison: Yes, it’s vital. I have two rules in the Palace of Wisdom. No. 1, every time anyone enters a room, they must enter in slow motion. No. 2; please take your shoes off, I don’t want to scuff the marble floor.

I could tell this was going to be a very unique experience.

Me: What was with that doorbell ringer?

Morrison: That was the WWE’s idea. They told me it would get me to be more like Shawn Michaels.

Me: Ugh, I guess I should had expected that. Are you really going to walk around without your shirt on?

Morrison: Of course, if you had abs like mine, wouldn’t you want to show them off whenever possible?

Me: Fair enough.

Morrison: You know you look like you could shed a few pounds; maybe later I will introduce you to the Treadmill of Truth.

Me: Thanks, John…

As we made our way through the grand hall, Morrison kept talking and I constantly found that my attention span was waning. Then much to my surprise I saw a familiar face in a small foyer connected to the grand hall.

Me: Is that…the Miz?

Morrison: Indeed. I allow him to live here provided he helps me write funnier and more interesting promos.

Miz: Of course you need me John, because I’m the Miz and I’m….

Morrison: …Lucky to have a job. This was another idea from the WWE. Apparently they think my promo skills could use some work.

Me: It’s not a bad idea. Besides you could learn a lot from the Miz.

Morrison: Perhaps. However, how could you not laugh at my Mr. Ziggles promo (bursts out in laughter)?

Neither I nor the Miz found this particularly funny .

Miz: Man, you suck as face.

Morrison: Quiet down Flab Master Flex, or you’ll be back on another Real World/Road Rules Challange quicker then you can say the name Coral.

Miz: (sighs) Yes, sir.

Morrison: That’s right. Come on Mike, let me show you the pool area.

As the two of us make our way to the pool, I hear a very loud crash and what sounds like a roar coming from the basement.

Mike: What the hell was that?

Morrison: Don’t worry, it’s just Dave.

Mike: Dave Batista?

Morrison: Correct. He lives in a man cave in my basement.

Me: Why?

Morrison: Well the palace needs a guard dog at night, and Batista fits the bill perfectly.

Just then the door opens and Kelly Kelly walks by us with a noticeable limp.

Me: Why is she here?

Morrison: In exchange for helping guard the palace, Dave receives daily visits from the Divas, if you catch my drift.

Batista: (from the basement) Need more Divas!!

Morrison: Relax Dave; Alicia Fox is on her way.

Batista: (roars in delight)

Me: Do all the divas visit?

Morrison: Every diva except for Melina. He can’t touch Melina!

Batista: Melina! Batista want Melina!

Morrison: No! Bad Dave! No Melina for you!

We hear a whimpering sound from the basement.

Me: How in the world did you get Batista to agree to this arrangement?

Morrison: I saved Dave from drowning in a bowl of soup several months ago at a Smackdown taping and he swore his loyalty to me. Spoons save lives, right Dave?

Batista: Dave like spoons, but Dave like Divas more!

Morrison: Very good, Dave. Let’s go to the pool, shall we?

We finally make our way outside to Morrison’s sprawling backyard. I have to admit he has a pretty nice set up. As we approached the pool, I noticed two more familiar faces engaged in a game of Marco Polo.

Josh Matthews: Marco!

Evan Bourne: (standing on the edge of the pool) Polo!

Matthews: Fish out of water!

Bourne was performing Air Bourne at that exact moment.

Matthews: You were out of the pool, you’re it now!

Bourne: No I was jumping back in. You’re still it!

Matthews: Am not!

Bourne: Are too!

Matthews: John!! Evan is cheating!

Morrison: Come on boys, play nice.

Bourne: Josh is just jealous because he can’t do a proper shooting star press.

Matthews: Stop being mean to me! It’s not my fault you’re stuck on Raw’s midcard!

Morrison: Well this is my pool, and Evan since you technically weren’t in the pool, you have to be it.

Bourne: Fine.

Morrison: Good. Josh, put your goggles on. You know you have sensitive eyes.

Me: You handled that very well, John.

Morrison: I really made Bourne “it” because I hate that “Air Bourne” crap. It’s nowhere near as cool as my Starship Pain.

Me: I guess, but I think Air Bourne is a pretty cool move.

Morrison: Whatever. I’m hungry, it’s time for lunch. I can’t stay sexy on an empty stomach.

As we made our way back to the house, Morrison reminded me of how awesome his abs were. After a few minutes walk through the grand hall, we finally arrived at the kitchen.

Me: Oh my god. Is that really Simon Dean ?

Morrison: Correct. He is my fitness consigliere and chef. He prepares only the healthiest meals for me.

Dean: Well hey guys! John you are looking fabulous and in shape as always. Who’s your out of shape friend?

Me: Alright I get it; I could stand to use a few pounds. What are you even doing here, Simon?

Dean: I realized I wasn’t achieving much success in the ring, so I decided to retire and devote myself to my Simon System. Plus I wanted to jump on the John Morrison bandwagon nice and early!

Me: I hope you put that system to good use after Lashley made you eat all those cheeseburgers .

Dean: (annoyed) Anyway, I just made some protein smoothies. Start drinking those and maybe you can have abs like John.

Morrison: I really keep Simon around because his Segway is so darn cool and useful. It’s a great way to get around the palace.

Dean: Do you need my Segway for the rest of your tour?

Morrison: No, where we’re going, we don’t need Segways. We’re going upstairs; don’t want to tear up the carpet.

Dean: Of course.

Morrison: Come on Mike, time to go upstairs. We can take the elevator of excellence.

Me: Wonderful, more useless alliteration.

The downstairs of the Palace of Wisdom was really something to behold, but I can only imagine what awaits me upstairs…