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Just what do Abdullah the Butcher and "True Blood" author Charlaine Harris have in common? Well, they were both at the annual Decatur Book Festival this weekend, but only one of them managed to truly horrify the largely whitebread crowd.
When we first arrived, the scene was rather pleasant: parents and children scurrying about, bookworms of all ages sifting through boxes of used paperbacks. Walk up to any vendor tent in downtown Decatur, Ga. And you'd find people getting their first edition signed or eating a funnel cake. It's that kind of vibe: the fair, except without all the chronic illiteracy. On this day, however, it would all end in pools of human blood. Here's how it all went down: For the first (and presumably the last) time ever, the Decatur Book Festival advertised a "Literary Death Match" as part of its "smart fun" offerings. In one corner: author, journalist and general provocateur Michael Mohammed Knight. In the other: the legendary Abdullah the Butcher. If you're a pro-wrestling fan, you know him as the Mad Man from the Sudan, the now 68-year-old death match legend famous for stabbing his opponents bloody with a fork. In his home town of Atlanta, he's also known for his authentically weird restaurant, Abdullah the Butcher's House of Ribs and Chinese Food (Click here to see photos from our adventure there). Word of warning: Don't go there for the cuisine. So my wife and I had been meaning to check out the book fest for a few years and since I'm a closet pro-wrestling fan and we're both admirers of the bizarre and absurd, this provocative approach to literary programming cinched it as the year we had to attend.
 
We arrived at the festival a little early and by the time we'd made it over to the wrestling ring, some local BWI wrestlers were already putting on a tag match. These guys knew their crowd and kept everything very PG. So, for the most part, all the children and upper-middle class adults laughed and enjoyed the in-ring antics. After the match, the promoter thanked the audience and let everyone know that BWI is available to perform at YOUR next fundraiser or family reunion.
Then it was time for the main event. Author Michael Mohammed Knight came out first, rather smug and full of himself, complete with "MMK" ring robe and rock star glasses. Then Abby shambled up the ring, dressed in an Abdullah t-shirt, a pair of shorts hiked up to his breastbone and his signature curly-toed boots. The years have certainly taken a toll on Abby, though. He didn't hand off the walking stick off till he was directly at ring side. Abby never actually climbed into the ring, though. Instead, he grabbed Knight's leg and the two awkwardly worked a spot where Abby pulled him out onto the grass at ringside. I should mention at this point that the ring was set up on the Dekalb County Court House lawn.
Knight never got in the least bit of offense -- which was fine. I don't think anyone there wanted to watch a brash, young, slight douchey author wail on a 68-year-old. So the kids, adults and BWI wrestlers were still really into it, shouting encouragement to the Butcher and humorously telling knight that he better get ready to go to the hospital. Oh, the irony. Abby wailed on the sprawling author a few times and then he pulled out the fork. In pretty short order, most of Knight's face was covered in blood and the juice was visibly flowing off his forehead. Abby followed up with a few chair shots before throwing a water cooler at him. Then the match just ended -- no bell, no announcement. Abby just walked back to his tent to sell more $10 photos and signed metal forks. Knight, on the other hand, continued to lay their bleeding for at least 10 minutes.
During the course of all this, most of the children stopped cheering and entered a rather quiet state. Some adults laughed uneasily. One father tenderly took his young daughter by the shoulder and turned her away from the sight, saying, "Come on, honey, let's not look at the blood anymore." Another worried spectator turned to my wife and asked, "This is all fake, right?" She told her that it was, more to calm to the visibly shaken woman than anything else. Even the BWI guys looked legitimately concerned over the amount of blood laying in pools on the cement -- as well as what was still flowing out of the author's skull. We left the scene when event security asked everyone who wasn't with BWI to leave.
So did Knight wind up taking a trip to Dekalb Medical Center (ironically, the main sponsor of the festival)? Did he blade himself* too deep or had Abby put a little too much fork in the act? And indeed, how much of the bloody conclusion to this literary publicity stunt was staged and how much was accidental? At any rate, it was quite a spectacle. When we left, they were asking if anyone in the dispersing audience had a towel, faces were still haunted with shock and the blood still gleamed in bright crimson pools.
Click here to enjoy the rest of the blood and sweat-soaked photos.
~rl
* To blade in pro-wrestling is to cut open your forehead, often with a razor blade, for theatrical effect. However, even pros can sometimes cut too deep and lose a dangerous amount of blood during a match.
© 2009 Team Thunderpuss Productions
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