STAR TREK: I’m probably gonna have to retire this feature.
SAILOR MOON: Didn’t really see any, though I mulled over what I could justify putting on the comp tape I’ll mention again below. I suppose I could bite the bullet and replace Sailor Moon with Teen Titans in my fickle heart, but Double T comes up short in a few key ways. It’s only got about a quarter as many episodes, which makes crap episodes like Raven smiling all happily as she steps out of character and helps fix Cyborg’s car harder to ignore than crap episodes like Amy smiling all happily as she steps out of character and helps fix some anonymous chick’s car. Also, Cyborg yelling at Robin and Raven yelling at Beast Boy combined just doesn’t quite surpass Raye yelling at Serena. Many rivalries have tried and failed to supplant that one. Rini yelling at Serena, for example.
I’m taking this online Precalculus II class where you have to participate in the online discussion board as part of your grade. You can post, but you can’t edit or delete your posts. Only the professor can do that. So anyway, someone posts a question, and their spelling and sentence structure are both pretty rotten, but at the end they ask us to “forgive my poor spelling.” And someone replied with “I guess we can forgive your poor grammer too.” So I replied, “I think you meant ‘grammar.’” And submitted the reply. And then realized the guy I was dissing was the professor. Oops.
Pre-credits, we get a somewhat disconcerting message from Vince telling us we’re a bunch of ingrates who don’t support the troops. I mean, that’s really the message I got from it, and I’m seriously not one of those people who goes reading that into anything pro-troops.
We’re live, from Calgary, Alberta, Canada, etc. The crowd is cheering happily, so I’m gonna go out on a limb and suggest the piece about American Memorial Day didn’t air in the arena. We learn that the Highlight Reel will feature Kane and Lita, and we learn that Benoit will take on Edge (with Lita.) Lita will apparently be stinking up every segment. Litapalooza. That’s also the name of a tropical disease. A tropical SEX disease.
I’D BETTER NOT HEAR ONE “BURGER KING” CHANT is in the ring, ready to host some slut contest. I rented some old WWE ppvs (which I have no intention of rebeaking, mind you) that included a match from the era where Lawler was one of the WWE’s most over, and yet most sad and horrible heels. Needless to say, he instructed the crowd not to chant “Burger King” because no one was chanting that even though they damn well knew when Lawler came out, a “Burger King” chant was expected. Anyway, swimsuit competition. Come on, Muhammad! HORRIBLE HEMME-GLOBIN is first. GO TO BED OLD MAN DOT COM is next. ONLY 90% AS RETARDED AS SHE LOOKS is next. Jim Ross (who should probably get a nickname if Jerry gets one. I’ll go with WHERE’S MY HASENPFEFFER? in an obscure Bugs Bunny reference that contains a word that kind of has “hoss” in it) says Maria always asks the “hard and probing questions.” Jerry must have left him a “disgusting sex jokes” cheat sheet. Last but not least is WOW! A FEMALE WRESTLER! JR decides Victoria is “sexy” but “eccentric.” Oh, wait, she’s not last, as VIS WANTS TO MOE LILIAN’S LATINA LAWN is also here. Great, this means Vis invades. I don’t want a Viscera/Hassan feud. Jerry: “Lilian, you’ve ith us for six years here on RAW, and I’ve been waiting for six years to say this. Lillian, drop that towel right now!” He almost said it once, but decided to remain hidden under the benches in the women’s locker room instead. Anyway, THE GENIAL BLACK COMEDY OF FLIP WILSON MEETS THE GENITAL BLACK RAPERY OF KOBE BRYANT shows up, and pretty much kidnaps Lilian Garcia. The Canadians boo, earning a little good will from me which I’m sure they’re burn through with “2” chants before the night is over. Vis does the bridegroom carry all the way to the back without incident, so I guess the Vis/Hassan feud has been averted. Hassan would be all, “women need to have their faces and bodies covered at all times,” and Vis would be all “me like the nekkid women” and Lawler would be all “ah!” and American crowds would cheer while Canadian fans would launch their collective monocle out of their collective eye. I need to avoid tangents when there’s undoubtedly another eight hours of diva shit to come. Victoria goes first, and she shakes her butt and stuff. Maria somehow manages to successfully operate her towel. Her bikini is leopard print, so Lawler says he wants to be a leopard. He wants to be killed and have his skin stretched across lady parts. His damned soul, bobbing gently in a lake of fire, will alternate between screaming “puppies!” and “oh my God the pain!” Hey, did you hear his non-Grand Master Sexay son was arrested? Meh. The GoDaddy.com chick goes, and Lawler mentions GoDaddy.com because that seems to be in her damned contract. Christy goes too. Lawler picks Christy to win. They had the good sense not to let the crowd pick, as smart-ass Canadians would have probably picked Victoria just to spite them. Or split their votes. Or…voted for whichever diva is perceived as the most socialistic. Damned Canadian commies. So, yeah, Lawler picks Christy, and the camera focuses on Victoria starting to leave, looking dejected. Oh please oh please oh please…YES! Victoria shoves down Christy, then shoves Maria, and then punches the GoDaddy chick and kicks her out of the ring! If we get a Widow’s Peak out of this it will be the best Diva Crap Thing Ever. Haha, a Fucking Kick Maria In The Face Kick! And there’s a somewhat gentler Fucking Kick Christy In The Face Kick. Bunches O’ Mounted Punches. Lawler pulls her off by the waist, and she looks at him for a second, and SHE KICKS JERRY LAWLER RIGHT IN THE FUCKING BALLS! HAHAHAHAHA! She let him have it too; he must have been wearing a cup. This was like Perfect fucking decking Earl Hebner, but it was an attractive woman kicking a pervert in the balls. And now, without even pausing to check on how much she damaged the Royal Jewels (sorry,) she gives Christy the motherfucking Widow’s Peak.
Dear God, thank you for giving us, your unworthy children, the real Victoria back. Please let her get back together with Stevie now. Oh, and sorry I haven’t been to church in a million years. Love, The Mysterious JG. I mean, Amen. However you end prayers.
God has to call me “The Mysterious JG” for now. We may get on first-name terms some day.
Commercials. The shitty Crazy John’s Tire House and Rims ad. I need to find the good one on tape somewhere for the comp. I’m piecing together a comp tape for the rest of the WV staff so they have something to collectively ignore. You know, to build a sense of solidarity.
Moments ago, I actually enjoyed a diva segment.
PLEASE DON’T LET HER HURT ME IVORY tries to talk to LIKE IVORY COULD STOP ME. Victoria grabs the mic and cuts a heel promo about how sick she is of all the attention Christy is getting. Sadly, she doesn’t touch on the whole “whore who can’t wrestle” thing. It’s basically a Trish promo with the bitchy humor replaced with psychotic anger.
I ENJOY SHOOTING WOMP RATS BACK HOME IN BEGGAR’S CANYON and I ENJOY EATING WOMP RATS BACK HOME IN BEGGAR’S CANYON come out with their valet, NEITHER OF YOU HAVE EVER BEEN IN A WOMAN’S CANYON IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN. Stacey’s nickname wasn’t exactly clever, but it still feels like too smart a joke to have put in Stacey’s mouth. I’ve got something else to put in Stacey’s mouth, if you know what I mean. A delicious hot sub from Subway. Lawler pretends not to know who the masked Stacey is. Every time she speaks, he should say, “That voice…where have I heard that voice?” in a Rocket J. Squirrel voice. Our awful tag team champions will be facing awful challengers in the form of THE FUTURE BLOBS. You whipper-snappers probably weren’t watching Saturday morning cartoons back when they did PSAs featuring the Future Blob. You guys probably don’t even remember OJ Readmore. What else could explain why we aren’t making jokes about Orlando Jordan using his foppish dinner jacket and knowledge of children’s literature to lure women into his Saddamesque rape room? Anyway, Romeo and Antonio do their awesome entrance. It’s interrupted by footage from Heat of Regal and Tajiri dying to the Final Throb, aka the Modified Shine Aqua Illusion. I like the handshake/pants-removal part of the Heartthrobs’ routine. Stacey shows Rosey her ass, as Lawler claims the HT’s were hitting on Stacey. Lawler: “One of them said they’d like to put some magic in her life, and she told them to disappear.” Kick this guy in the nuts again, Victoria. HT’s try to double-team Hurricane, but he does a hoppity kick on one and a clothesline on the other. Hurricane with a leg lariat, and a cover for a count of 1. Crowd: “2!” This is going to be a long night. Hurricane’s corner whip is reversed, and Antonio runs into an uppercut. Hurricane prevents an attack by Romeo, but Antonio knocks him off the apron. Romeo does stuff outside the ring. Romeo tosses Hurricane back in. Antonio gets a neckbreaker for 2. He tags in Romeo for some double-team stompery in the corner. Romeo forces Hurricane into the corner and tags Antonio right back in. Their throbbing hearts are pumping fully Italian blood. The crowd chants: “Stacey’s hot!” I really admire those knowledgeable Canadian fans. What with all their knowledge. Romeo thrusts at Rosey, drawing him in and distracting the ref from a doubleteam suplex (also known by a certain name referring to a shiny, illusory modification of an aquatic nature.) More FBI corner tactics. Today, some dude on the radio said the former number 2 man in the FBI was the one who leaked all the Watergate info to Dustin Hoffman and Robert Redford. I was surprised to learn that Chuck Palumbo was Deep Throat. Billy Gunn knew it all along. Man, I am just way too good to be writing about this match. Romeo does shit as Lawler talks about licking Stacey Kiebler’s legs. Hurricane fights off both heels, but gets kneed and Antonio is tagged in. Hurricane sent to the corner, Romeo whips Antonio in, but Hurricane hops up onto the top rope so Antonio Palumboizes himself. Man, this really is the second coming of the Panty Palz and the FBI all in one shitty package! Romeo idiotically charges into some top-rope move the camera completely misses. I think Hurricane leapt in, and somehow caused Arn Anderson to DDT Dustin Rhodes. Tag in Rosey and end this fucking match before I use all my jokes. Hurricane races (Elf) for the corner. Rosey does fat attacks. Both Heartthrobs stacked in a corner, and while Romeo eats a fatvalanche, Antonio escapes. And, haha, taps his head to indicate intelligence. Rosey scoops him up and slams him, stunning him long enough for Rosey to make his laborious way up to the top turnbuckle. Oh wait, Hurricane climbs up on Rosey’s shoulders, and jumps off of them to deliver a super splash! That’s not the Rocket Launcher, is it? I think you have to throw Bobby Eaton for it to be a Rocket Launcher. Had Stan Lane been at WW3, one of the Midnights would surely have won. But yeah, that probably wasn’t the Rocket Launcher. Modified Shine Aqua Illusion is always a safe bet. Whatever it was, it wins the champs the match because referee Who Ever doesn’t give a shit who was legal.
Dave wanders the halls. Dave Coulier. He’s looking for Slater Vain. Oh, wait, they’re from two different shows I never watched.
Commercials. Not even the launch of Starburst Gum will drive this ancient “Eat the Starburst Bust” ad off the air.
2005 Diva Search Contestant shots. Is that Torrie Wilson? No, just a completely generic blonde hottie. Wait, is that Torrie Wilson? No, a completely different CGBH.
Last week, Ric offered Batista a heartfelt nutshot.
THE LETTERS E, C, AND W ARE BANNED talks to THE LETTERS H, H, AND H ARE BANNED. Triple H is apparently doing this week’s twenty minute interview from the studios in Stamford because he couldn’t fucking be bothered to show the fucking fuck up. Batista accepts the Hell in the Cell match because he’s a big simp giving his sworn enemy Triple H exactly what he wants. ARE WE TOO LATE TO INTERRUPT THE SWIMSUIT CONTEST? come in. One of them is screaming in Farsi. Go ahead, guess which one! Hassan: “What’s goin’ on here? What’s Triple H done to deserve a title match? Triple H lost at Wrestlemania, and Triple H lost at Backlash!” Don’t forget the Golddust Tourney! Hassan: “But Eric, I am undefeated, which means I’ve never lost a match!” He goes right from being dead right to dead wrong. Not only did they drop the “never been pinned or made to submit” line that covers him fucking-up the bell-shot and having to get DQed against Benoit, they dropped the “on RAW” which covers him losing every ppv match ever. Batista has had enough, and decides to take out his frustrations against Hassan, TONIGHT! Bischoff approves, because only Triple H can magically make matches happen without Bischoff’s approval. Daivari gets lippy, so Batista SLAPS him. He’s still pissed about the Moorish invasion of Spain in 711 AD.
Haha, 7-11. And Arabs. I wouldn't have noticed if not for a fan sign from later in the show.
Commercials. Good Charlotte. That’s where Ric Flair’s good alter-ego is from. When he shakes your hand, he doesn’t punch you in the nuts an hour later. I guess our Ric Flair is from the evil dimension, then. He shaves off his goatee every day to blend in.
Our Juicy Pop How Is This Pop Being Flavorless Until We Have To Manually Add Flavor A Selling Point of the Week is Shelton Benjamin being booked into a handicap match against Hassan and Daivari. Bischoff did a 180 on his “Handicap Match Against Hassan and Daivari” policy. Or, in radians, he did a pi. A delicious pi. Delicious pi tempted Big Show to take Trigonometry, but then he remembered he can’t see past his gut to use his toes to count past 10. Because being able to count to 20 is all you need to take Trig. You can know nothing and still do ok in Troqonometry. And Basic Troqonomics.
I’m never going to finish if each stupid sentence of recapping events leads to a paragraph of nonsense.
Crap, and I’ve got more nonsense to cover. So, I took a little break to use the little boy’s room, and I flip through Time magazine, and they have this political cartoon. It’s got George Bush tied down, Gulliver in Lilliput style, with his upper body in Iraq and his feet in Afghanistan. And he’s looking angrily at this little cartoon Ayatollah holding a nuke in Iran and a cartoon Kim Jung Il holding a nuke in North Korea. Regardless of your feelings on Bush and the Iraq war, this cartoon sucks. Let me tell you why. First, this “clever” take on the current situation was already basically beaten to death by the frickin’ South Park guys in a movie starring marionettes. Secondly and more importantly, they put Afghanistan in the wrong fucking place. Some urbane wit decided to show us how much smarter he is than the people running our country (not that that’s any great shakes) but he didn’t bother to check and find out where Afghanistan was first. It’s not on the fucking Indian Ocean south of Iran. Jesus Christ. It’s a “poor grammer” situation.
Anyway, back to the damned show. SCHWARTZ BRÜDER is your Intercontinental champion. Hahaha. You see, “schwartz brüder” means “black brother” in German. Making him a wholly ironic avatar for me considering I make Kevin McHale look like Manute Bol. Not that I’m any less Black than the actual Schwartz. Or Schwartzu, as he is known in the Jappy version. If I might make another annoying digression, for reasons not worth getting into, I got to thinking about Marlon Brando’s famous speech at the end of “On the Waterfront” today. It can serve as a good nickname for Haas or Holly. Haas is a bitter failure compared to Shelton, and Holly is just a bitter failure in general whose only remaining friend is Charlie Haas. So Bob Holly could be “I coulda been a contenda, Charlie,” while Charlie Haas could be “I, Charlie, coulda been a contenda.” Oh, how I laughed. Sigh. Ok, so, for some ungodly reason, Shelton is defending his title against “SWEET” SYL VAIN and “BEAUTIFUL” BOBBY CONWAY, Zee New Midnight Express. Conway is introduced as being “from the province of Quebec.” I guess Quebec invaded Kentucky at some point. This is a 3-Way Dance, not a handicap, by the way. Because La Resistance will never team again. It’s far more exciting to do a prolonged break-up angle. This may shatter the ratings records set by the Un-Americans collapse, when Christian sided with…I think Test, against Lance and Regal. Maybe. Lawler complains that Lillian Garcia has been replaced by a male ring announcer since Viscera is off raping her. Hey, he’s not going “Jooooooohn” all creepy-like. Yet, anyway. Grenier waves the flag about, and Conway steps in front of him and poses. One-upmanship. The sport of collecting green magic mushrooms. Anyway, La Rez (huh, I just noticed one of them is in the home uniform and the other one is in the visitor uniform) rush Shelton, and eventually clubber him down. They send him to the ropes, then perform a devastating double Papa Shango. Conway gets kicked while Grenier is scooped up for a Samoan slam. Conway double-axehandles him. Short-arm clothesline by Conway, followed by title-belt motions. He stomps, but Grenier pushes him aside and stomps. Conway pushes Grenier aside and stomps. Grenier pushes Conway aside and stomps. The fans chant “boring” because these guys aren’t cool, blonde Canadians. Or, in Conway’s case, Canadians. Conway hammers Shelton’s head into the corner. Grenier attempts to one-up him. And they do more of the same. Grenier looks confused. Conway: “Do something!” Conway punches Shelton, then challenges Grenier to one-up that, bitch. Shelton starts firing away on both men, and sends Grenier to the floor. He sends Conway to the ropes, and back body drops him. JR: “You know, Benjamin could pin Conway, and become the Intercontinental champion!” Lawler makes fun of him. Shelton sends Conway into the corner, charges into an elbow, but gives Conway a goofy backbreaker anyway. Grenier back in, and he catches the running Shelton to set up the Hart Attack (aka MSAI.) Grenier covers, but Conway pulls him off as the “Tension in La Resistance” plot continues it’s epic and exciting slow build. Conway covers Shelton, and Grenier pulls Conway off. Conway expresses disbelief. Grenier goes to cover Shelton, but Conway schoolboys Grenier for 2! Grenier slugs him in the face. Grenier with choppery in the ropes, but Conway ducks something and clotheslines Grenier to the floor. Shelton back up, and he clotheslines Conway to the floor. Shelton grabs the top rope and does some goofy split-kick where he kicks both heels on the floor, then slides out to join in their outside-the-ring reindeer games. JR: “Intense flip there!” Shelton sends Conway back in and goes up top, but Grenier grabs his boot. Shelton kicks Grenier off, and manages to connect with a top rope lariat on Conway. Grenier breaks up the cover because he hates me. Slop Drop by Grenier, but Conway breaks it up at a count of 1. Crowd: “2!” Some fucker even holds up a “2” sign after the 1 count. Conway chops away at Grenier, but Grenier fires back. Grenier tries a whip, Conway reverses and gets a neckbreaker. Conway covers for 2. The crowd is chanting something unintelligible, probably about hockey. Or back bacon. Conway rams Grenier into the corner, but his corner whip is reversed. Grenier collapses, and Shelton comes out of nowhere with the Stingar Splash on the cornered Conway! Grenier tries a back suplex or something, but Shelton flips out, throws a kick, Sylvain catches it, Money Clip! Grenier gets knocked back, which somehow knocks Conway out of the ring entirely and allows Shelton to end things with an Exploder on Sylvain. Canadians don’t like T-bones. Not salty enough. Not made from pig. Not generally drenched in maple syrup.
The Draft Lottery (sponsored by Miller Genuine) begins next week. Echoey Vince voice: “No one is safe!” What if Chad is drafted by RAW and Grandpa stays on Smackdown!? What then, internet pundits? Huh?
Commercials. Advent Rising. The X-Box game about…um…getting ready for Christmas?
Being the guy who put the “lapsed” in “lapsed Catholic,” I actually had to Google Advent to make sure I wasn’t confusing it with Lent (aka getting ready for Easter.) And there seem to be about 3 sites devoted to “Final Fantasy VII, Advent Children” for every Jesus Freak site. I don’t know if that’s good or bad.
OH MAN, IT WAS SO GREAT WHEN THAT ONE GUY TOLD THE WARRIORS TO COME OUT AND PLAY gets this huge loud pop in Canada which makes me that much gladder that Waspinator isn’t reading this. Man, Mo Rocca and Zimas, that’s just so perfect. Jericho talks some. Next week he’s going to interview whoever the first Smackdown star to be drafted to RAW is. Jericho: “This week, I have two very special guests. One of the guests some would say is a MONSTER. Some would say this person has NO SOUL, NO REMORSE!” Lawler: “Must be Lita.” Way to ruin his punch line, dipshit. Indeed, Jericho says he’ll “get to Lita in a minute,” and calls out KANE V-ONEEEEEEEAH! JR: “This man is seven feet tall! He’s 320 plus pounds! He can do things to people King that are absolutely unmentionable!” Sexy. Unless he means violent acts. Like setting mannequins of them on fire. JR is all sympathetic with the guy who IS SUPPOSED TO HAVE SET HIM ON FIRE. Jericho heelishly asks Kane if his broken wiener is what caused the break-up. Jericho: “Have you been suffering from some premature pyro? Hey Silent Bob, you can say anything any time, hello!” Jericho offers to buy Kane some Haagen Daaz (for once I have the discipline not to google something) and rent that Ya-Ya Sisterhood bullshit for him so he can have a good, long cry. He should just borrow Bob Holly’s copy. I AM SOOOO GONNA MAIN EVENT THE NEXT TIME TRIPLE H WANTS A FEW WEEKS OFF appears on the Stupidtron and makes the same “spearing Lita” joke the entire Internet made when the story first broke. That’s right, the entire Internet. Edge: “When Lita was making those emergency phone calls to her sister in the middle of the night? She was callin’ me.” HOLY CRAP EDGE IS LITA’S SISTER! MY BROTHER CHRISTIAN GAVE ME A MILLION UNPRETTIERS WHEN I WAS A KID now appears on the Stupidtron in a very mild bait and switch, and shocks us (ala Supreme Thunder) by announcing that she has filed for a divorce. She tells Kane he’s sweaty, then mocks his laugh. Lita: “And we can forget about the skills, yeah, or actually the lack thereof. You’re like a fourth-grader in the bedroom.” Lita just admitted to knowing what it feels like to have sex with fourth-graders. Edge is a sixth-grader, maybe even seventh. Matt, on the other hand, was in Graaaaaaaaaduh Oneaaaaaaaah! Lita pulls off her wedding ring and flushes it down the toilet. But only after stalling for dramatic effect for a couple of minutes. Then she and Edge make out. On a toilet. No, seriously.
Commercials. I’ve already thrown in a bunch of random blogs. Just go reread one of those if you need something between segments.
Our Something of Other Something or Other of the Week is Benoit’s Crippler CrossKendoStick. Haha, it looks like he’s making Benoit eat the Kendo stick.
FEAR MY DEVESTATING AXEHANDLE FINISHER, RIKER joins the idiots on commentary. The Canooks either can’t synch up their ECW chant, or it’s competing with another bacon-related chant. Fan sign: “EC WRU LEZ.” Bischoff announces Edge vs Benoit in a Tables Match to prove that RAW can out ECW ECW. And here come HELLO FANS! WE JUST HAD SEX ON A COMMODE! I hope Edge’s briefcase is full of condoms. MR. ECW is Chris Benoit. I mean, who else? Who typifies ECW more than Christ Benoit? Seriously? I have a feeling that this should be the main event. LOUD “Benoit” chant. Lock-up, Edge backs Benoit into the corner, but Benoit puts him there and knees away. Chops, and the Canadians have enough class to WOO. Benoit sends Edge into the ropes and gets the ground-based Starman chop. The Amazon can’t pull that shit off. More brawling. Bischoff calls ECW fans “lemmings.” I’m rusty on my IWCspeak, but I know lemmings were on of the big 2. Benoit sends Edge to the floor and stomps at him. Both men back in, and Benoit gives Edge a snap suplex. Benoit chops. Lawler talks about how ECW had tables in “every match.” Remember all the tables in the Malenko/Guerrero blow-off? Edge reverses a corner whip and Benoit bounces off the corner. Edge drops an elbow before sliding out to get a table. Edge grins all evilly, but completely misses Benoit rushing in to nail him with a suicide dive. Nice. “Holy Shit” chant? It was nice, but come on. Overreact much, Calgarians?
Commercials. I don’t know what you call someone from Calgary. Well, I mean, I don’t know what the official word is. Insert your own “derogatory name for people from Calgary” joke here. I’d suggest some variation on steers and queers.
We’re back, and Edge is on offense. The crowd is chanting unintelligibly again. Choose 3 syllables or less you morons! Maybe they have. “Peas and carrots! Peas and carrots!” Wait, that’s four. “Rhubarb rhubarb rhubarb! Canadian wrestling rhubarb!” I swear to God that joke makes sense. Edge paintbrushes Chris, but the crowd fails to chant “fake.” Clubbering. Benoit gets a double-leg takedown into the bunches o’ punches. Edge rolls over and punches in bunches of his own. Lawler and Bischoff warn us not to buy the ECW magazine, making sure to tell us when it comes out, of course. Edge misses a dropkick (which, as you well know, somehow makes landing afterwards hurt) and Benoit tries for that great Calgary wrestling move, the Scorpion Deathlock. Edge kicks him off anyway. Edge punches Benoit. He whips Benoit into a corner, then sorta-kinda spears him into the corner. Lawler: “ECW was a bunch of clowns with a death wish!” Funny, I don’t recall The Renegade joining the ICP. I do remember Doink showing up, and the fans wishing death on him. That, if I may digress for the millionth time, was a fucking brilliant bit of booking. Bringing Doink to ECW and making him do his babyface act and then get fucking murdered. Back to the match, as Edge again goes for a table under the ring, but this time Benoit baseballslide kicks it into his face. Benoit slides out, Edge tries to go back in, but Edge ends up straddling the ropes and Benoit decides to pull his crotch into them. Edge screams. Bloody face, bloody face! Sorry, I rewatched RVD do commentary on one of his matches with Jerry Lynn the other day. He sings “bloody face” at Jerry because he’s fucking insane. Benoit sets up the table outside of the ring. Powerbomb his bitch ass through it, Benoit. Benoit instead tries to German suplex Edge off the apron through it (yeah right,) and then Edge scoops up Benoit and looks to try and Tombstone or possibly do a leaping powerslam through it (yeah right,) but Benoit slips out of that, into the ring, and clubbers Edge on the apron. All of these teases would work better if the table wasn’t way too damned far from the apron. Edge tries to vertical suplex Benoit outside through the table, but Benoit reverses and suplexes Edge in. Benoit tosses Edge back to the apron. JR bitches about Edge and Lita, so The Bisch tells him to stay out of their personal lives. Hahaha. More punching of Edge on the apron. Benoit tries to charge him off, but runs headlong into a shot from Edge. Lawler says this puts a smile on the face of Lita. Eric: “I understand he’s been putting a smile on her face for a few months now.” Ew. Edge goes up, but Benoit knocks him down, in JR’s words, “aggressively, with serious intent!” Benoit baseballslide dropkicks Edge to the floor, then goes out and gets another table. He sends it into the ring and sets it up. Benoit kicks away at Edge on the apron. He’s trying to set up a superplex through the table, but Lita comes in and moves the table. Benoit’s superplex connects, but doesn’t touch the table. Lawler: “What would happen if Lita was put through a table? Would that count for anything?” And he’s all cheerful about it too. Edge grabs the briefcase, but Benoit snags Rolling Germans. Eric: “I have all the confidence in the world in Edge! I stake my reputation on that man!” Lawler: “Huh?” That amuses me somehow. Our commentators can’t believe anyone would have confidence in Edge. Benoit goes for another German, then puts Edge on the table. Which looks really thin. Benoit going up for Air Georgia, but Lita shoves him off. Eric leaves the announce position, so get ready for the schmozz. He calls in THE ALLIANCE TO END ECWMANIA, which consists of elite RAW superstars Maven and Tyson Tomko. Benoit starts to fight them off, so Bischoff calls out another warrior…HAHAHAHA, it’s I HEARD THAT ECW WAS PAUL HEYMAN’S BABY! The exciting return of Snitsky. He kills Benoit dead, and Edge powerbombs Benoit through the table for the win. Lawler points out, quite rightly, that this would not earn a DQ in an ECW Table Match. Bisch gets the mic and tells Heyman his crusade is gonna be even stronger soon. Maybe they’ll get The Heartthrobs!
We see Triple H at the Stanford Studio. JR promises us “passion.”
Commercials. Nope. I’ll make fun of Seed of Chucky next week.
Here’s a replay of Triple H’s shocking sledgehammer attack. I AM THE GAME, AND YOU DON’T WANT TO PLAY ME. OR LISTEN TO ME. OR HAVE TO ACKNOWLEDGE ME AT ALL, REALLY decouples from Stephanie long enough to bore the shit out of us. JR asks Hunter why he thinks he deserves another title shot after losing to Batista twice and then losing in the first round of the Golddust tournament. Triple H’s response: “Shut up.” The fans chant “boring.” Triple H: “Did you think I was just gonna go away?” Well, we’d kinda hoped. He talks and talks and talks and talks. Every so often the crowd gets loud enough that they have to adjust the levels so we can’t hear them. Trips talks about submission and aggression and says he’s gonna take a piece of Batista’s soul. Zzz.
Commercials. That wasn’t as bad as the time he set up a chair in the ring. Oh jeez, Goldberg is hosting some show called “Auto Maniac.” The show for people who completely stall out their muscle cars and then run off like retards to where they falsely think the Rock is.
The Destroy All Humans of the Night is oh, wait, they tricked me.
DO SOMETHING! GOD! is out. As always, Lawler has to shush JR. As if there wasn’t reason enough to hate this guy, he fucking stole Christian’s pyro. Masters: “OH YEAH BAYBAY!” Fucktard. The fans don’t care enough to boo. Some fans have horrible cardboard cutouts of a lock and a key. Masters: “It’s time once again for the Masterlock Challenge!” Lawler: “Oh boy!” Fan sign: “MASTER CROCK.” Clever. Masters ups the prize to TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS. American. Then he makes fun of Canadian money OH NO YOU DIDNA! Some fan, really loud: “IT’S A FULL NELSON!” Earlier, while in the parking lot, he screamed: “IT’S A HONDA CIVIC!” On his way to his seat, he yelled, “IT’S A KERNEL OF POPCORN SOMEBODY STEPPED ON!” Anyway, Masters opens the challenge to anyone in the locker room, which was what the original fucking challenge was in the fucking first place. Thank God. Not that this won’t suck, but the calling people out of the crowd gimmick could theoretically have continued forever. The first jobber to fall will be ME SO SILLY! *WINKS THEATRICALLY AND PRETEND PUNCHES SELF IN THE HAIR FOR SOME REASON* (w/THE NUMBER 1 PIMP IN THE OKC.) That’s for Minakochaaaaaaaan and Artemis, who, as you may recall, represent Val Venis in my feverish dreamworld. So…he shaved his head to look more like a penis, right? Here are some shots of Canadian women looking bored. HAHAHAHA, he throws his towel into the crowd, and some bearded dude catches it. A dream catch of a dream catcher. Masters sez he’s a big Val fan whose college roommate (haha like you went to college dude) owns all of Venis’ pretend videos. For that reason, it will be an honor to make Val “pass out” in the Masterlock. That’s an improvement over “choking out” opponents with a full-nelson, at least. Val gets the mic and talks about “stiff competition” and being “up to the challenge” and how he’s an “unfunny never-was.” Wait, forget that last part. Val sits down, and Masters kicks him in the back of the head. Cheater. Stomps, knees, and now he applies the Masterlock. It would have served him right if Val started punching back before he could apply it. Anyway, Val actually fights it, even kicking off of the corner turnbuckles, but eventually he passes out because he’s a pathetic jobber from Heat and Masters is merely a future pathetic jobber on Heat.
Commercials. Batman Begins. To grow tiresome.
OH CAPTAIN MY CAPTAIN is out. I had a better nickname than that but I’ve forgotten it and I’m totally tired. Here’s a fan sign with tiny letters that we can only read because for some ridiculous reason they show a close-up of it and for some ridiculous reason I felt the need to pause and capture it at 1:55 AM EST. Sign: “WHO NEEDS THE ROCK AND HIS MILLIONS AND MILLIONS OF FANS WHEN WE HAVE CAPTAIN CHARISMA AND THE PEEPULATION!” I agree with the sentiment (question mark at the end, anyone?) but this tard put all of that on a sign of just the right size to bear the “E” in a 3-part “ECW” sign. The fans cheer for him because he’s a Canadian who isn’t booked to pork Lita on toilets and is also not Val Venis. Christian annoys me by cutting a suck-up face promo making fun of America instead of using his considerable cheap-heat skillz to turn the crowd against him. He runs down Smackdown’s roster. Christian: “They’ve got Americans!” Crowd: “Boo!” Christian: “They’ve got Mexicans!” Crowd: “Boo!” Me: “Zuh!?” Christian: “They’ve got Japanese!” Crowd: “Boo!” Me: “You know what, fuck you guys. I know you hate us, but why you hatin’ on the Chinks and the Wetbacks, man?” Christian: “They’ve got Frenchmen!” Crowd: “Boo!” Christian: “They’re got a Giant!” Crowd: “Boo!” Christian: “They’ve got a stu-stu-stutterer!” Crowd: “Boo!” Christian: “They’ve got a Dead Man!” Crowd: *mixed boos and cheers.* Me: “Ugh.” Christian: “They’ve got a rapping, hip-hop poser champion!” Crowd: *LOUD boos.* Me: “Better.” Christian: “That couldn’t make me say ‘I quit’ even if he forced me to listen to his lame-ass CD, John Cena!” Crowd: *cheers.* Christian: “But what they don’t have is a Canadian!” He goes on to promise that he could kick the entire show’s ass. At this point, they CAN’T send him over there, because they love swerves above all else and he would completely undercut what they’re trying to do with Cena. Cena vs Christian would not end pretty for the WWE merchandising machine. Anyway, Christian tells us the three C’s are Charisma, Canada, and Christian. Suck-up. I don’t know what goes on in the World of Cs.
Commercials. No.
WHY ARE YOU BOOING US? WE ARE NOT AMONGST THE GIANTS AND STUTTERERS YOU CANADIANS SO ARDENTLY HATE (w/RAMALAMARAMADAN) are out first. A fan sign has the 7-11 logo, Hassan's face, and "NOW HIRING." Thank you, Canada, for proving that Americans aren't the only racist shitheads out there. It doesn’t take MAYBE I CAN GET CHRIS MASTERS TO APPLY THE MASTERLOCK TO MY SOUL to come out too. I’m tired, so this is getting summarized from memory. Batista fucking murders Hassan, and eventually gets disqualified when he won’t stop punching and break at a count of five. Lame, lame, lame. If I can smark out for a moment, the booking makes some sense because it shows how OMG ANGARY TEH AMINAL BATISTA is while protecting Hassan’s (essentially fictitious) undefeated streak. So it’s lame but logical. But since no one could possibly think Hassan was going to win the title here (I don’t think it was even for the title,) why the Hell make this the main event and put the Benoit/Edge table match with a screwy but way more dramatic ending on before the fucking Masterlock Challenge? The answer? Triple H and anything related to him is more important than ECW.
Final Thoughts: I can’t tell if that sucked or if I’m just grumpy from beaking past 2 in the morning. Either way, enjoy all the typos. I caught me making Christian say “They’re got a Frenchman!”
