As the South Pacific's answer to the WWF has recently released a slew of posters for your enjoyment (and potential purchase!), let us peruse their wares, and their stable while we are about it.
The idea of a time-traveling wrestler from the 1980s is as high-concept as the storyline in WCW in which the Ultimate Warrior returned to wrestling but was only shown in the hallucinations of Hulk Hogan, which the documentary crew's cameras somehow had access to. What I mean, of course, is that both are pretty great.
Max "The Axe" Damage's continual nomenclature confusion puts him in the company of luminaries such as John "Cougar" Mellencamp, Cardinal Joseph "Pope Benedict XVI" Ratzinger, and "Roseanne".
Why is the Flame shown in front of society's most potent force for its eradication? That's like showing Chris DeLorean standing in front of 1990.
Inferno is the Overly Expressive Bass Player of KPW.
"Lazarus Volt: Fresh from the 1890s". How has he been kept fresh from a time when domestic refrigeration was far from widespread, and cryogenics unheard of? We are clearly meant to imply from the man's moniker that his presence amongst us of the 2010s owes a debt to some manner of bodily rebirth, possibly scientific in nature, but why would a man with such potent spiritual and/or technological acumen choose to focus his attentions on reviving the circus traditions of a bygone age? Lazarus Volt poses so many questions and answers so few.
By exhibiting technical prowess and a lean musculature even past the ripe age of 80(?), Irishman Mike Ryan gives the lie to the notion that his countrymen are all drunken poets with non-ridiculous trou.
Calling yourself "Jade Diamond" is like saying you're "A Cast-Iron Gold Nugget", or changing your name to "Knifey Gunn". Which Jade Diamond should definitely consider doing.
I can't help noticing that The Maori Warrior (one of my KPW favourites) is the only wrestler without a catchphrase. Are they saying black people are inarticulate? RACIALIST.