Who in blue hell is Rowdy Herrington you ask?
A golf hustler? A professional wrestler? An accountant? A porn star? A pederast? A talented jai-alai player?
No, dumbass, he is the greatest artist of our time.
To really dig deep into a visionary's life, one must start at the beginning, in hopes of seeing what gave him the ingenious vision.
Contrary to popular belief and quite surprisingly, Rowdy Herrington did not sprout from the fruit of a man's man's loins. He has no father. The story of his conception is something of a miracle. Let's quit beating around the bush and get to how it happened.
Ms. Herrington was hammered one night at a dive bar, fucked a pool cue and fourteen seconds later out a popped a flannel-clad, fully engorged badass.
The facts about his upbringing, much like his birth, are based on hearsay, legend completely made-up horseshit, so we'll get to his crowning achievement.
Sick of working on sets of softcore pornography and softcore's inspiration, "Growing Pains," Rowdy said, "You know what, fuck the bullshit, I've already raped the skinny ass Tracey Gold and Kirk Cameron, I am going to create a film that will represent the pinnacle of American cinema as we know it and make me a gazillion dollars in residual money. I will create Road House."
He decided that in one movie he would have in no particular order: the borderline homicidal Terry Funk, a band with a blind guy that plays behind chicken wire, gratuitous tit shots, a monster truck jumping, George Strait dance scenes, a shitload of mustaches, the most despicable human since Hitler - Brad Wesley, male earrings, a climactic scene that ends with a stuffed polar bear killing a man, a climactic scene that ends in a throat being ripped out, the main character living in a barn, Sam fuckin' Elliot, and, because Rowdy has mother issues, lots of fights involving pool cues.
To close in a way that would make Rowdy proud, "I used to fuck guys like you in prison."
