The Midnight News 10.17.01



Where to start .how about this

Eat me

This is Hyatte

And this is NOT a “work”

Welcome to Obituary 411. I speak to you tonight of in loving memory of Chris Hyatte. I have been appointed Power of Attorney, or F.LEA Bailey, if you weeel, to preside of this momentous, albeit, long awaited for occasion; the death of one Chris Hyatte.

Many of you in attendance this evening may have been long time readers of Mr. Hyatte. I myself have been reading his work since he was a young lad, just getting his feet wet as an “Internet Wrestling Personality” with his “Mop Up’s” which could be read on I laughed when he thought everything in the world revolved around the Villanos and I cried when he posted Bob Ryder’s ICQ number. Through the trials and tribulations, whether it was placing a hit on Tony Schivone’s daughter or thinking of vile ways to defile Mark Madden’s mother, Hyatte always stayed true to his craft; i.e. a stream of conscious thought regardless of the repercussions.

Let us take a moment of silence to remember Sean “Slymm” Shannon, who if he we not dead and buried and hiding behind his mother screening his calls, would be dancing in the streets at the news I bear today. That is if his spinobifida has been cured.

Let us also remember Dusty “the fat and bitter” Pussy for his vain attempt to conquer the mighty Glorydog, only to be left with memories, all alone in the litterbox.

As not to take his name in vain, Dusty did give Hyatte a home when the he was an “Exile on Scoops Street”. Before I continue a hearty “FUCK YOU, YOU EDITING PIECE OF SHIT” to Remy. Voices from the grave are a bitch, bitch.

The home that Dusty provided was Hyatte was free to say what he wanted and do what he pleased, providing you did not mind reading Hyatte as a 17 part serial novel. SOMEONE’S bright idea was to break the report up into more pieces than a jigsaw puzzle, but at least we got our dose.

For reason and issues that have be mentioned elsewhere, the relationship between Dusty and Hyatte disintegrated. Young chaps at a fledging website named 411wrestling came calling and agreed to publish Hyatte. Urban legend says it was for “star power” but people close to the story say “promised fellatio” was more in line to the facts. Notwithstanding the rumors, Hyatte once again had a home.

As time passed by, Hyatte was appointed the news column, which, in his own way, redefined the way wrestling news is presented on the Internet. His style has been imitated not only by other websites, but at the site he called home: 411.

We now pause to pay tribute to Mr. Williams, who is leaving us for the military. If he manages to pass the PYSCHOlogical exam and keep from getting anally raped, he will have a fine future ahead of him in his trailer as his wife screams at the four lice infected children.

Eventually the burden of not only the Mop’s Up’s, but And Another Thing and the MidNight News caused cracks in the armor of the once mighty Hyatte. The syndication deal of “And Another Thing” slipped away and the Mop Up’s, once his calling card, slowly faded into memory. All we had left was the MidNight News.

Another moment of silence must be given for Greg Dillard. Mr. Dillard once was Hyatte’s “voice”, providing an Internet Radio show, which was hopefully the ticket out of Nowheresville. Sadly, this did not occur. Dillard, if you are reading, I know you missed you’re chance at Survivor 2, but you would be perfect at Survivor 3. Just vote the Black dude off and you win. You know what they say; them people’s got an extra bone in their foot anyway.

Once again being revolutionary and having a vision, Hyatte decided to dedicate a portion of his MidNight News to Message Boards. A whole new generation of fans was created: the sort of people who were proud of Hyatte stealing their “material”.


Fuckin’ voice from the grave!

Another moment of silence must be observed for the following people:

Scott Keith: congrats on your new book deal. Good chunk of money you pocketed there. Hope you don’t get sued. (dude). And you have Hyatte’s blessing to run the Internet Wrestling Community as you damn well please.

Gagnon: you were funnier when you were drunk.

Rick Scaia: who cares .

CRZ: If it’s a hippie, hippie, hippie on the label, label, label, you won’t let that scumbag sit, at you’re table, table, table.

After many news columns where his readers were educated not only on wrestling, but on how to pick up women and do things to them in bed (hey baby, I read somewhere you bitches like something called a “Filthy Sanchez”), Hyatte got tired. Tired of watching wrestling, tired of writing about wrestling and tired of a large score of readers who would claim to hate him, despise him and wish him dead!!!!!!! all the while clamoring for the next morsel of text Hyatte would bestow upon them ..

Well, you bastards, you finally got you’re wish; Hyatte is dead. Kaput. No More. Finite. Or in wrestling terms, is taking it home and has done his final job.


How is it going to feel without an actual honest voice amidst this piece of crap you call the Internet Wresting Community? You can read negativity in volumes everywhere on the net, but with Hyatte, somewhere inside all the Patterson jokes and maliciousness was a true wrestling fan. Remember that the next time you complain about the Undertaker.

Today, as we gather here, we must remember Chris Hyatte for what he was: crude (sometimes), honest (all the time) and never, ever scared of a fight.

It has been mentioned that Hyatte’s true occupation was a janitor. I can attest to the fact that this is not even close to the truth. He makes a very good living doing work that is well respected and appreciated. I will not say what that is, out of respect for the dead, but I will say that many of you could only hope to be so lucky. Take that and speculate however you wish, you cocksuckers.

In closing, I would like to give special word of thanks to the man that made this all possible .BOB Ryder .without him I would not be where I am today. Oh yeah, thanks Hyatte for posting Six Degrees of Ryder Fakin.

Somewhere in New York comedian is crying,

Everywhere on the net I hear laughing,

However, in a remote part of uncharted America (some people dare to call it a state: Rhode Island) is a town called Cumberland. In this town tonight, I hear a faint voice. A voice that is about to have the final shovel full of dirt tossed upon it this voice says:


Hyatte is dead.

Any tributes can be made to the following AOLIM:


Any feedback can be sent to me, Flea

“Hey, Flea”

“Yeah, man”

“Did you write that without your pants on?”

“Yeah, man”


Tie Your Mother Down

FLEA is an Inside Pulse Original in every sense of the word, from his unique style and viewpoint. You can send any feedback to, or just type it the comment box below. also but follow FLEA on Twitter @ryderfakin.