Former Try Guys Member Ned Fulmer Debuts in Pro Wrestling.
19 hours ago7 min read0 comments

Alright, so you’re not gonna believe this, but we’ve officially entered the multiverse of madness where YouTube drama and the squared circle collide in the most unexpected crossover since that time LeBron James showed up in Space Jam. Ned Fulmer, the guy you probably remember as the ‘wife guy’ from the Try Guys whose entire brand imploded in a workplace cheating scandal that had the entire internet side-eyeing their DMs, just popped up in a pro wrestling ring.Let’s just process that for a second. One minute, he’s getting kicked out of the group he helped build from Buzzfeed exodus to indie media darlings, a fall from grace so steep it would make Icarus blush, and the next, he’s trading fake punches and working a crowd that’s half-confused, half-ironically cheering.It’s the kind of plot twist you’d dismiss as bad fan fiction, but here we are. This isn’t some celebrity softball game or a cameo on a reality show; this is pro wrestling, a world built on larger-than-life personas, scripted chaos, and an audience that can smell inauthenticity from the top rope.And Fulmer, whether you love him or love to hate him, is diving headfirst into it. The Try Guys, for the uninitiated, were this quartet of dudes who made a name for themselves by trying everything from labor pains to gourmet cooking, building a massive following on charm and relatability.Fulmer was the earnest one, the family man, until he wasn’t—the scandal wasn’t just tabloid fodder; it was a case study in how personal brand collapse can happen in a single tweet thread. Now, he’s rebranding in a universe where kayfabe—the illusion of reality—is the currency.Think about the audacity. Pro wrestling has always been a sanctuary for fallen stars and redemption arcs, from Mike Tyson’s guest spots to Bad Bunny selling out stadiums.It’s a space where narrative is everything, and Fulmer’s entire public life has become a narrative. He’s not just some rando; he’s a guy with baggage, and in wrestling, baggage is gold.You can already see the potential storylines: the heel turn where he leans into the villain role, playing up the ‘cheater’ label with smirks and cheap shots, or the babyface comeback where he fights for a second chance, selling every move like it’s a metaphor for his public shaming. The debut itself, from what clips are floating around, had that chaotic indie show energy—maybe a local promotion looking for a viral moment, the ring ropes shaking a bit too much, the crowd a mix of hardcore fans and folks who just came for the meme.But here’s the thing: wrestling is hard. It’s not just acting; it’s athletic theater.You’ve got to learn bumps, sells, working the mic—it’s a craft. If Fulmer’s serious, he’s facing a grind that makes YouTube algorithm chasing look like a vacation.He’ll need to train like a madman, maybe at a place like the Nightmare Factory where other influencers have cut their teeth, and earn the respect of a locker room that’s notoriously skeptical of outsiders. And let’s talk about the audience reaction.Wrestling crowds are the ultimate jury—they’ll boo you out of the building if you’re not giving them something to care about, or they’ll chant ‘you deserve it’ with a mix of irony and genuine hype. In a way, this move is genius.It’s a full embrace of the absurdity of internet fame, where cancellation isn’t an end but a pivot. If he can pull it off, if he can turn his real-life drama into compelling in-ring storytelling, he might just carve out a niche in this wild world.But if he’s just doing it for a quick headline, the bell will toll fast. Either way, grab your popcorn, because this is gonna be a ride worth watching, folks.