Okay, the last thing I want to do is oversell something I just watched on a reality television program, but before we go any further, can I just say one thing? FIGHT OF THE CENTURY!!! I know, I know, the century is only 11 years old, but still, does it get any better that Meat Loaf completely and freakishly losing it to Gary Busey? Yes, the “whore pit vipers” throwdown in season 2 was similarly epic (“You’re a poker playa. A poker playaaaaaa.”), but all you need to do is go to the score sheet to see that Meat Loaf vs. Busey has it beat. In approximately two minutes, Mr. Loaf (Meat to friends and family) let fly with 1 s—, 1 bulls—, 6 motherf—– or motherf——s and 16 — yes, 16! — good ol’ fashion f— or f—ings. That’s 24 expletives. 24! (Yes, I counted.) It was truly an explosion of Rex Ryan proportions.
But the greatness of this outburst cannot be relayed solely by statistics. You have to look deeper at the subtleties and nuances at play here that make it a complete masterstroke. Start with Meat Loaf — I mean honestly, where else are you gonna start? What was so amazing about the situation was the way it came from seemingly nowhere. After returning from the art supplies store to begin working on their artwork to be sold for charity, Meat Loaf could not find his bag of paints. He started looking around the room, calmly asking if anyone had seen his bag while contemplating whether Gary Busey could have possibly usurped his supplies. And then, like Dr. Bruce Banner turning into The Hulk, he just exploded.
Meat Loaf: “OKAY, F—!”
A very confused Mark McGrath: “What’s wrong?”
Meat Loaf: “MOTHERF—–!’
Mark McGrath, still confused : “What’s wrong?”
“I BOUGHT THOSE MOTHERF—— SPONGES! PART OF THAT PAINT IS MINE! I AM SICK AND TIRED…”
Here’s where things got really good as we hit our first genius point of the ordeal. As Busey took a step forward in the least-confrontational manner possible, Meat charged in a full rage “F— YOU, MOTHERF—–!” But my eyes were neither on Meat Loaf nor Busey at this point, but rather on Richard Hatch, who was right in between the pair. Unlike everyone else in the room—and, likely, the entire west side of Manhattan — Richard was not completely transfixed by what was transpiring. In fact, he refused to even look up! So while Armageddon rained down on Team Backbone, there was Richard Hatch neatly assembling his art supplies and just hoping by the grace of God he did not get floored by an errant Meat Loaf knuckle-sandwich (and yes, I believe I am the first person in the past 30 years to use the phrase “knuckle sandwich”). Maybe Hatch is used to seeing this kind of activity going down in prison so didn’t pay it any mind. I have no idea, but it was pretty damn amusing.
NEXT: Meat Loaf isn’t even close to being done