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BACK-LEG FRONTKICK: SUMMER OF
SEAN! (06/09/06) FEATURING:
TWF TRUE
HOLLYWOOD DEATH VALLEY
STORY: KANE, RAW THOUGHTS, "WHATEVER HAPPENED TO", AND
MUCH MORE! THIS COLUMN IS BROUGHT TO YOU BY GOD, JESUS
AND MR. MCMAHON! DISCRETION IS ADVISED. SOME SCENES
CONTAIN STUFF.
That's
right Fuckies, the day you thought would never come has
arrived! And No, you're not finally getting laid
you poor hapless bastard, but the "Two-Time Fanny Award
Winning" column of chocolaty ice cream goodness,
The Back-Leg
Frontkick has
returned for a limited time, for your...enjoyment? I
don't know. What I do know is that as of this moment,
The Summer of Sean is *OFFICIALLY* here. This is
gonna be my time. Time to taste the fruits and let the
juices drip down my chin. I proclaim this: The Summer of
Sean! Wait, I already said that part. Well, too bad I'm
saying it again! (and ripping off
Seinfeld).
Anyway, some of you
might be saying, "What is this Summer of Sean he speaks
of?" And although I really know none of you is really
saying that, just play along anyway. You see, TWF's own
James
Walker and I have opted for the Summer to trade places.
So you see, he'll now be rich and exceptionally
good looking. Ok, we're only trading jobs, whatever.
But I just wanted to use that joke, so sue me. In
any event, our friend Mr. Walker will be recapping the
Summer PPV's and I will in turn be returning to
write semi-regular columns and satires (Like
This!) and by "semi-regular" I mean whenever I
want. Deal with it.
So, with that said, "The Summer of Sean"
will basically just be me throwing together various
brain farts and passing it off as a column to amuse
myself. The topics will vary, although I am planning to
take one exclusive look at the 2006 Divas Search in my
typical mean-spirited fashion (as I did last year, Click
HERE) as well as doing another
"Completely Random News" piece, once again like I did
last year (Click Here). So stay tuned or
something!
And before we get
into the thick of things, my condolences to the family
and friends of John Tenta, who passed away yesterday. I
always thought a lot of John Tenta and actually received
an email from him earlier this year after he read one of
my satires linked through my good friend Derek
Burgan at Wrestlecrap. The irony of this situation
is that I was actually planning earlier this week
on posting a mock WWE Films movie (as seen HERE.
) featuring
Earthquake in this very column, for which I hope he
would have gotten a kick out of. It was a mock up of the
upcoming 'Snake's on a Plane' film, only
rechristened "'Quake's on a Plane" and would
feature Mr. Tenta being called in to stop the
plane full of reptiles by utilizing his patented snake
squashing technique as seen here.
So, with that said, Rest in peace, big
guy. And God's speed!
Onto the
column!
TWF TRUE HOLLYWOOD DEATH VALLEY
STORY: KANE.
News has recently came down the wire that
Kane is contemplating retirement in 2007; deciding that
perhaps he’s accomplished all that he’s ever wanted to
in the sport. And why not? Right now, Kane is on top of
the world. He’s one of the most consistently “over”
wrestlers in history; he has a successful movie out
(firmly planting himself as one of the all-time great
on-screen masturbating serial killers), and he’s amidst
an angle that seems to be catching everyone’s
imagination. I mean, just who is this “new” Kane? A
demon conjured from Kane’s tortured psyche? Someone from
his past, attempting to seek vengeance? Queen band
member Brian
May? The possibilities were endless. However, as of
yet, we have no idea. All we do know is that Kane is
once again the center of attention. But what we don’t
know however is many details about Kane himself. You
see, WWE has seen fit to only release small details
about the character’s past, with often revised canon
contradicting what we’ve already been told. But hey,
that’s where TWF comes in. I recently dispatched the
full TWF
News team to seek out as many
“facts” as they could, in hopes that we could FINALLY fill in
the many blanks in Kane’s history, and perhaps shed
light on WWE’s version more so. Here’s what we’ve
discovered:
IN THE
BEGINNING
The one consistency
in Kane & Undertaker’s back story is that both
parents were incinerated in a fire, and that Kane
himself was caught in the blaze, but managed to survive.
From there we have conflicting versions at to who
started the fire, with everyone from Kane, to Undertaker
to Paul Bearer all allegedly starting the blaze. With
that said, we here at TWF have discovered TWO different
theories, and we’ll leave it to you, the reader to
deduce which is more likely plausible.
But first, in order
to properly tell the story, we have to go back to the
beginning. You see, the Callaway’s were a normal
All-American family, albeit with the ability to
regenerate their bodies from grievous bodily harm and
propel lightning from their fingertips. Other than that
though, just like you and I. The family patriarch was a
man named Royce Callaway, professional mortician by
trade and weekend underground shoot-fighter. As the
inventor of MMMA (Mixed-Mortuary Martial Arts) Royce was
in the unique position that if he accidentally choked
his opponents to death, he was able to cut out the
middle-man and just embalm the body himself free of
charge.
Anyway, shortly after
getting married, Royce soon learned that his beloved
wife was with child, and as such, he decided to finally
buckle down and open his own funeral parlor in
Death Valley. Business
was scarce, probably due to the fact that Death Valley is uninhabitable, but
hey, whatever. After Undertaker was born, Royce decided
to take on an apprentice (Paul Bearer) so he could spend
more time with his family (and because many families
grew tired of Royce eviscerating the bodies while
wearing shoot-fighting gloves and in turn laying into
their beloved dearly-departed with the heavy “soup
bones”.). However, unbeknownst to Royce, as he was out
of town at a convention featuring breakthrough
non-invasive embalming techniques and how to choke
someone out with your gui without leaving a visible
bruise, the blond-haired lothario would take up with
Mrs. Callaway and impregnate her. Paul’s orgasmic cry of
“Ohhh yesss!” was said to be heard for miles, destroying
the libidos of the townsfolk
forever.
Nine
months later Mrs. Callaway gave birth to healthy 85
pound baby boy, whom baffled doctors alike by being born
wearing what appeared to be full tights. As Kane grew
older his
parents were baffled by the infant’s ability to stand in
his crib and ignite all four corner posts ablaze at
once. This ability coupled with his tolerance for
pain was said to be inherited from Mrs. Callaway's side
of the family, who were believed to originally be a
combination of Druid and circus
strongman.
Anyway, it was happy
times. The family was closer than ever, and could be
seen every Sunday tossing around the football and
playfully throwing projectile lightning at one another.
However, things soon went sour when Royce had to fire
Paul Bearer, as he kept raising an urn and bringing the
corpses back to life. An act that almost put the
fledgling ultimate-fighting mortician out of business.
It’s at this point
the story gets confusing. The official police statement
on the ensuing “fire”, stated that the young Undertaker
was practicing ultimate fighting in the garage, (he was
never able to get it right, but god bless him, his heart
was in the right place) and accidentally knocked over
flammable chemicals that eventually were ignited.
However, there is ANOTHER version. It’s been said, that
Bearer, upset at his termination, attempted to poison
the mind of young Undertaker, and set up a complicated
plan to gain revenge. You see, if Undertaker had one
great love (besides the super natural and incorrectly
applied submission holds) it was Pogos, the delicious
deep fried hotdogs wrapped in corn meal. In fact, many a
day after school, he and Kane would enjoy the timeless
treat, with often Kane cooking all six in a package at
once by simply raising his arms in the air. In any
event, Bearer told Undertaker that Kane had eaten the
LAST ONE, and that the brand had discontinued making the
product. This INFURIATED the Deadboy (Man would come
later), and thus Undertaker did what any normal 7
foot child with inherited dark magic powers would do in
the same situation: He set his house on fire and
murdered his parents. I mean, we’ve all been there. Boys
will be boys, after
all.
Anyway, as the house burned to ground,
young Undertaker, remorseful over what he had done, left
the scene and wandered the desert aimlessly for 6 years
until the lure of high school basketball caught the
young man’s fancy. Once out of High school, Undertaker
would exotically dance
at S&M Bars to earn extra money
to enter the world of Professional wrestling (it was in
these fetish bars that young Undertaker met many
"Bikers" and sparked his interest in Motorcycles).
Meanwhile, Bearer pulled Kane from the fire, and whisked
the tragically burned child away, having him locked in
an institution (where he was raised) so he could head
out to Texas, to make a living off another family of
Deadmen (the Von
Erichs).
FAMILY
TREE
As previously
mentioned, Undertaker & Kane’s “father’s” heritage
is a mix of Irish and Brazilian (needless to say,
copious amounts of alcohol and ground based jujitsu
doesn’t mix too well) and can be traced back for
generations. Their mother’s however is not as
easy.
Earliest records
available seem to suggest that her earliest recorded
relatives were Puritan immigrants Jebediah & Good
Wife Mary Taker, who settled in Salem
Maine in
the latter 17th century (as seen to the
right. And discount that whole “cameras weren’t invented
for another two hundred years” thing). The Takers were
said to be very unpopular amongst the pilgrim community,
as Jebediah often alienated the other villagers, telling
them to stay out of his “yard” and weaning out the
“phony tough and crazy brave” in the village. Soon,
villagers concocted a plan to dispose of Jebediah and
his masked wife for heresy and witch craft (although,
Jebediah’s cries of being “The Lord of Darkness” and
tying people to crosses symbols didn’t
exactly help his cause.). In any event, the villagers
tried in vain to murder them over the years, by setting
them on fire, burying them alive, and running them over.
It never worked. Anyway, the whole thing culminated in
some twelve Pilgrims forcing Jebediah into a casket.
However, he was back some 8 months later anyway, looking
pretty much the same as before, bar trading in his grey
pantaloons for some purple
ones.
THE LOST
YEARS
WWE
has never really explained what happened in the interim
between the time of the fire, and his WWF debut, only
briefly touching on Kane’s teenage years with Katie Vick
in 2002. We’ll now attempt to fill in a few
blanks.
After spending a good
portion of his life in a mental institution, Kane now
made the only natural progression an awkward basket-case
of raging emotions could: He went to high school. Kane
attempted to fit in as best a giant pyro-kinetic demon
that’s impervious to pain could, but still managed to
stick out amongst the other regular
sized non-undead students. And as such, there were
some especially difficult times when he was mocked. One
of which was wearing his gym shorts over his expansive
one-piece unitard.
In class he tried his
best, but often the teacher would not call on Kane to
answer questions, as every time he raised his hand the
chalkboard would burst into flames. In any event, it was
during these formative years that Kane discovered his
two great loves: Cosmetic dentistry and the "Ladies".
The “lady” in question of course was Katie Vick, who
much like Kane was also ridiculed. You see, I recall
reading somewhere that Katie suffered from a rare
muscularity disorder that made her appear to resemble a
mannequin. The two “freaks” soon fell in love and
graduated as high school sweethearts.
However, tragedy would eventually strike
once the two attended college. You see, after spending
Spring break together, partying hard in Florida ( Where Katie
was caught on tape completely topless to the horror of
her parents. See here) the two were
driving home and as an inebriated Kane took a short cut
to a quiet spot where he hoped to live up to his
Mortician heritage and “bury a stiff” as it were,
but unfortunately, while driving and loudly singing
"Born to be Wild" as Steppenwolf played on his stereo,
his mask became slightly askew and he crashed the car
into a tree, the impact killing Katie instantly; as all
of her limbs became unattached at once from their
plastic holes. It was
terrible.
The official autopsy
report had stated that traces of semen were found on
Katie, but even though Kane had a voracious sexual
appetite, it is highly unlikely that Kane had
post-mortemly abused Katie as HHH had once accused. For
one, removing his unitard was a real production, and
thus Kane wouldn’t have had time to gear down before the
authorities arrived. The other discovery is that Kane,
in an attempt to save for dental school, found out that
he could sell his semen to a sperm bank for
cash (he once informed his horrified friends that
he had a towel that was probably worth some ten thousand
dollars) and according to Kane, the sample, came flying
from his glove compartment and exploded all over Katie
earlier that day as the two rolled over a rough patch of
road. Kane explained that she couldn’t wipe it from her
dress as she had no moveable joints on her body. The
police ultimately bought Kane’s story and he was
released.
Obviously distraught,
Kane would bury his pain by joining the Alpha Beta Delta
Burke Fraternity house, where he cracked up his brothers
with his ability to light a bong with his finger tip. (a
skill that came in handy during his tenures with X-Pac
and Rob Van Dam in later
years.).
EARLY
CAREER & RECONCILIATION
Although dentistry
was his passion, Kane ended up giving up his dream, and
not just because some 25 patients died while under his
care. (His controversial choke-slam extraction technique
is still a hotly contested issue amongst the dental
community to this day.). In any event, Kane decided that
he would instead become a professional wrestler, and
like every other plumber, garbage man or hockey player
to ever enter the WWE, he also automatically knew how to
wrestle, despite catch-as-catch can wrestling skills not
being that common amongst most trades people. Go figure.
He began his career as Unibomb, but ultimately discarded
that character after learning the hard way that
explosives and dude’s who can naturally produce fire
from their hands aren’t exactly a great
match.
With
that said, people would ask for YEARS just how Kane
could wrestle under various identities without showing
any of the scars or signs of burns he allegedly had.
Well, apparently, Kane, while in University, was the
protégé of a brilliant scientist named Dr. Peyton
Westlake, who in turn taught Kane all he knew about
synthetic skin. And as such, Kane fashioned himself a
mask, complete with a blond halfro, and a full bodied
synthetic suit, and competed as Isaac Yankem in 1995.
Eventually, he was forced to leave WWE, after his
synthetic skin began melting under the hot ring lights,
leaving the “skin” hanging and saggy. It’s said
that after Kane discarded the skin, RIC FLAIR picked it
out of the garbage and continues to wear it to this
day.
Eventually, Kane made
it back to the WWE, this time as his TRUE self, and once
again hooked up with his estranged father, Paul Bearer
to wage war with the Undertaker for years. Ultimately,
Kane & Undertaker settled their differences once and
for all, with Kane getting Taker’s blessing to carry on
the family mantle of premier super natural being when
Undertaker briefly became mortal after meeting his wife
Sara; (who was said to be very obsessive compulsive
about her furniture, and as a result, Taker's fast and
loose powers of the Darkside would not fly in her house.
).
Today, they’re all
one big happy family, with the two brothers apparently
having had a good chuckle at the attempted homicide
twenty years prior over some eggnog at Christmas. Good
for them.
UNMASKING &
INFLUENCE.
The single biggest event in the career of
Kane was obviously when he was finally forced to unmask.
However, this didn’t explain how once unmasked, his
“scars” miraculously disappeared. Many theories floated
around. One of which was that the sheer AWESOME power of
Triple H’s PEDIGREE caused the molecules in his face to
completely restructure because of the nuclear-like
impact. Of course this rumor was started by HHH himself
so take it for what it’s worth. However, the TRUTH is
actually much simpler. It turns out that Kane just had
not washed his face in twenty years. (see
here) Who’d have thunk
it?
However, even more SHOCKING then seeing
Kane’s real face, was the HAIRCUT underneath. With all
the focus on Kane’s tragic burns, his unique male
pattern baldness that sees a perfectly edged symmetrical
receded hairline was all but ignored. However, what Kane
didn’t realize (and unfortunately he sheared it off
before basking in the attention he would have received)
is that many Hollywood A-Listers adopted his patented
Skullet, and it soon became a PHENOMENON not seen since
the “Rachel” in 1994. Here are but a few celebrities who
had at one time adopted Kane’s patented
‘do:

MARRIED
LIFE
Despite appearing to
be a heartless monster, deep within, The Big Red Machine
secretly pined for a normal existence. He needed a
woman. His last two relationships had been a disaster
(with his last girlfriend Tori running off with X-Pac,
who was well on his way to making a career of picking up
his best friend’s sloppy seconds) so he decided to take
things into his own hands. And after personal ads led
nowhere, (his listed turn-ons of “fire, necrophilia,
digging up my parents corpses and setting their caskets
on fire on the Raw stage, and long walks on the beach…”
didn’t seem to go over too well. Go figure.) he decided
the "dating" scene wasn't for him. Kane, like most
men his age, decided ‘enough was enough’ and it was time
to grow up. He was more determined than ever to settle
down and force a woman to have his child. It was time to
be a Man.
And as such, he began
courting Lita, (She was perfect for him. I mean, he was
already used to burning sensations anyway) and as you
very well know, the two were eventually married, after
he destroyed her true love and forced her to have
intercourse with him. You know that same old story.
Romance was indeed in
the air! Things were said to blossom fast, and on the
honeymoon, Kane made the marriage *official* by setting
her loins ablaze with his fiery lust…LITERALLY! And due
to the size of her affected area because of years of
youthful indiscretions, it apparently took the entire
Niagara Falls Fire Department some 6 hours to put out
the blaze! Unfortunately though, things soon began to
fall apart. Their once beloved and cherished memories
of blackmail rape and evil chicanery were
replaced with the hum-drum reality of married life. Lita
was heard on many an occasions bellowing: “You don’t
take me anywhere nice anymore! You just want to set
fires!” However, they still had their child to keep them
together. And the best part is that if the child
possessed mommy’s trait of
getting injured 5 times a year, Kane’s inherited
super-healing prowess would make it moot. God bless
those unholy
powers!
Anyway, to make a
(incredibly) long story short, as we all know the
marriage eventually dissolved soon after Gene Snitsky
terminated the pregnancy with a steel chair, and Lita
took up with Edge. What we didn't know is that the
divorce settlement was said to be amicable, with the
only debated issue being Kane insisting on keeping
Lita’s collection of some 3000 Luchador masks for which
she marked
“trophies”.
With that said, a
year has passed, and Kane has since picked up his wild
swinging bachelor ways. It’s said he sometimes sleeps
with 5 maybe 6 dead bodies a week now. You go get 'em,
tiger.
Ok, then. I hope that clears up a few of
the misconceptions about the Big Red Machine. We live to
inform, and by that I mean the complete opposite
dictionary definition of the word. That's
right.
RAW IS
WOE
This
past Monday I found myself in a dilemma. You see, it was
past midnight, and Cameron Burge’s RAW recap had yet to
reach my email inbox, so being neurotic like I tend to
be (although Gersh
did eventually come to the rescue) I started
feverishly jotting down notes in the thought that I
would be forced to saddle this abortion of a broadcast
and recap it this week. And as per decree of my Summer
of Sean mandate, this extra energy dispensed, threw off
the balance of my world and generally wrecked my evening
as far as doing nothing was concerned. So, in any event,
luckily, as previously mentioned, it turns out I didn’t
have to do Raw after all, and my evening of scratching
my balls and watching some Canadian-based soft-core
pornography on ‘SexTV: the channel’ looked to be back on
again. But what of my notes, I asked. Well, since I did
actually spend some time putting them to paper, it’d be
a shame to put them to use, right? Right? (This is the
part where you agree with
me).
So, with that said, I
have decided to just put my jumbled RAW takes and
observations in here. Because God knows no one else
wants them.
The show opens up
with the rapidly aging Shane McMahon approaching HHH
about tonight’s ‘Kiss my ass club’. I read the very
talented Peter Kent at 411 compare Shane to one Mr.
Fantastic. If only that was the case. Now, Stephanie
just has to follow Shane’s Fantastic Four example and
become the Invisible woman. And by that, I mean forever.
Just
saying.
We open up with the
official contract signing between Rob Van Dam & John
Cena. Hey, here’s a question; why does anyone even show
up to these anymore? Every time one goes down, one dude
gets obliterated. It’s kind of like how every party
Angela Lansbury goes to on Murder She Wrote ends in a
murder. Yet they keep inviting the bitch. Wait, what
were we talking about
again?
Oh, ya, Paul Heyman
calls out good ole Mr. Money in the Dank, Rob Van Dam.
He then whispers in Rob’s ear as he sits down “so, since
you got money in the bank now, does that mean I
still have to pay you?” This may have only happened on
my version.
Cena then comes out
and the two trade barbs. Cena says “I fear nothing and
regret less!” And I believe him. He’s straight up O.G.,
yo. He
comes from a place where there’s a drive-by every five
minutes. And sure, it’s just an old farmer on a riding
mower, but he’s relentless, yo. That West Newbury be the real
deal.
Anyway, Cena admits
that he was a huge ECW fan, and respects what those
letters stand for. Heyman than tells Cena he’ll give him
his first taste of ECW. He then hops on a plane to make
Rollerball without signing any checks. Ok, I lied. The
taste he meant was in the form of Balls Mahoney,
Sandman, Tommy Dreamer, Sabu & Terry Funk, whom I
understand is still currently making his way down the
arena stairs. And oh ya, Cena gets annihilated by the
ECW contingent. However, I’ve drawn the conclusion that
Sandman must have been drinking and thus seen TWO John
Cena’s out there; because he missed the real John
Cena by like ten inches. Imaginary John Cena was not so
lucky however. Also missing his mark was Sabu
with the Arabian Skullcrusher, which for this night only
was rechristened the Arabian flying armpit of good
intentions. By me.
Yup.
But wait! Here comes
the Calvary! Led by the
Big Show? You know, when he’s the fasted
runner, it’s time to reevaluate yourself as an athlete.
But then again, who knows? Maybe Show spotted a Little
Debbie’s on the floor and made a fast break for
it?
Carlito vs. Shelton
Benjamin is up next. And apparently we’ve traveled back
in time one exact calendar year. The fucking booking of
this company feels just like the movie Groundhog
Day. Quick, someone throw a toaster oven in the Creative
team’s bath tub. If my theory proves true, they’ll just
start the day all over again. And if I’m wrong? Well, no
harm, no foul. Oh, by the way, Carlito wins with his
unnamed back breaker known to 1200 people as the lung
blower. It’s also the name of a sexual device I
currently have en route to my house. That’s
right.
Hey! Kane’s actually
got a movie out! Man, they really should get the word
out. There’s probably one person out there who hasn’t
seen this trailer. Oh, and my favorite part? The
Australian broad stating that when Kane grabbed you, it
felt like he had no care for your well being. Quick,
send Kane to SmackDown! Apparently this is the
philosophy in which you get a main event
push!
HHH is backstage with
Vince. He says there’s no way he’s kissing Vince’s ass.
Normally, he would, but Vince’s rectum is just not ready
yet. Pay your dues hairless ass. Anyway, Vince reveals
he’s just gotten an “Assial” (He shaved his face? Badyum
cha.). HHH then protests, so Vince says if he can beat
The Big Show, the Kiss my ass club is off for
tonight.
HHH is up against Big
Show next, and by Gawd, JR doesn’t disappoint again with
the mindless Big Show compliments. His ring is a size
23! His hands are like toaster ovens! Wait, I thought
they were Frying pans? Apparently Show has a kitchen
appliance for every limb. No wonder he’s obese! Think of
how easy it’d be to cook food if you had a toaster oven
for hands! He should try and get his hands down to at
least a George Foreman grill. He might live
longer.
Anyway, the Spirit
Squad interfere almost instantly, and cost HHH the
match. Apparently the world would cease to exist if the
Squad did not appear on
RAW.
HHH is now EMOTING
FURIOUS ANGER, and barges into Vince’s office. Vince
informs him that the ass-kissing is still on, or he’ll
never wrestle for a championship again. Something tells
me that might not stick. Call me
crazy.
Eugene is up next against Matt
Striker. And hey, I don’t know how lax the Board of
Education is these days, but last time I was in school,
the teacher was still expected to wear pants with his
sweater vest. And speaking of teachers, Eugene is accompanied
tonight by Jim Duggan who apparently stole my 6th grade
gym teacher’s shorts for this occasion. Poor Jim. He
kind of looked like my Dad waddling out for the
newspaper in his underwear on a weekend morning. Anyway,
Eugene ends up winning
with the Three Point Stance
clothesline.
After the match, our
friend and the world’s most dangerous hitchhiker (who
wouldn’t stop for an Asiatic thumb?) Samoa Joke (Umaga)
blindsides Duggan and gives him the THUMB~! How ironic.
Jim Duggan done in by a big thumb. Ok, I have
nothing.
JR pimps the return
of the Divas Search, where, and I wish I was kidding,
“stars are made.” Stars? Oh how I wish that was
literally the case. You know, as in a billion miles away
from Earth.
Kurt
Angle is here! The crowd erupts, and SmackDown
flatlines. He was 7. God Speed. Kurt is then approached
by Mick Foley, whom he calls Mrs. Foley’s big hairy
prostitute. That was also the first rejected name for
Las
Vegas’s Bunny Ranch. Go figure.
This brings Edge and Lita out, and Edge reminds Kurt
that it was him who shaved Kurt bald. He then reminds
Matt Hardy that he did the same thing to Lita. Ok,
he never said that. Whatever. Kurt then attacks both
men, and gets the better of them until RANDY ORTON
explodes out of nowhere with an RKO. His ankle
miraculously healed at the exact same rate his
suspension was for. WHAT ARE THE
ODDS!?[/sarcasm,]
After the break, we
find out that Randy will answer Kurt’s open challenge at
One Night Stand. Apparently Kurt’s open challenge to ANY
kind of ring also included the one you push shit out of
(directly into gym bags.). Makes sense to
me.
Kane comes out to
face Lance Cade who is wearing the head of Waylon Mercy
this evening, after succumbing to WWE’s unwritten rule
of ‘thall shalt not have long flowing blond hair’. He
ends up “winning” by count out when the talking mask
distracts Kane and he leaves the
ring.
Kane ends up going
backstage, and is yelling for Fake Kane (Enak?) to stop
playing mind games. We then see Fake Kane slowly get
closer to Real Kane until he attacks him. Whatever. It
would have been funnier if Kane tried to get away, then
fell and sprained his ankle. Oh, horror movie clichés,
oh how I love
thee.
On a side note:
Thankfully, this week, someone got Fake Kane to run his
wig under a faucet
first.
The Highlanders are
coming to America! And sheep breathe a sigh of relief.
But wait. TWO Highlanders? I’ve seen ‘End Game’ this can
only end badly. But until the day they cut each others
heads off, I’m just glad to see a real team in this
company.
Charlie Haas, who
looks like he’s traded in his All American Academia for
a cardboard box and a shopping cart full of cans, is up
next against Johnny Nitro, whom I was disappointed to
see lose last week. My dream of an 82 week undefeated
streak has been dashed. Oh, and apparently, as he was
careening into the ropes, Homeless Charlie launched
Lillian Garcia off the apron. RIGHT NOW THERE’S SOMEBODY
SAYING “SHE KNOWS HOW TO FALL”. HOW IN THE HELL DO YOU
LEARN TO FALL ON A 3 INCH THICK CRASH
MAT CONCRETE! [/Jim
Ross]
Anyway, they cart
Lillian out and Charlie gets booed unmercifully. He also
jobs to Nitro after Melina feigns an ankle injury and
causes a distraction. After the match, Charlie goes home
to his pregnant wife Jackie Gayda, and accidentally
shoulder tackles her through the living room wall after
being asked to bring her some water. I wouldn’t make
this up. ;)
After the break, we
see footage of Lillian being helped to the back. Charlie
then backs his car over her as he exits the arena. Ok,
I’ll stop the Haas jokes. (for
now.)
Victoria comes out
accompanied by Mickie James to face Beth Phoenix who is
accompanied by Trish Stratus. Beth has yet to face her
toughest foe however: Complete and total fucking apathy.
Seriously though, have they even explained to us WHY
we’re supposed to cheer her? Anyway, not a bad match if
you discount the crowd. In Space they can’t hear
you scream not give a
fuck. Beth ends up winning with the Michanoku
Driver that was known as the Beth Valley Driver in OVW.
Anyway, it turns out that Beth broke her mandible in
this match; a tragic injury for any woman to have.
(although, it does mean less talking, so that’s a
plus.).
In the back, Shane
& Vince conspire. Vince offers to show Shane his ass
but Shane declines. In some cultures it’s a right of
passage. In other places it’s a night out in San
Francisco. I don’t know. Shane then says he’ll get “it”
done.
We now see Triple H
in his locker room… getting ready? Who knew burying your
head in someone’s ass merited a change of clothes?
Anyway, Shane comes in, and while HHH is distracted,
Shane puts roophies in his water bottle. Remind me to go
on a double date sometime with these McMahons! HHH then
takes a swig of said compromised water, and Shane takes
a call from Vince. We then see Triple H spit out the
water and switch bottles with Shane. SUBTERFUGE
!
After the break,
Jerry Lawler calls out Tazz and accepts his challenge
for One Night Stand. Jerry then breaks into a diatribe
about rules and how “choking people out is illegal”.
Hey, you know what else is illegal? Sodomizing a 14 year
old girl. Just
saying.
It’s now time for the event you’ve all
been waiting for: (no, WWE insists. You’re really
looking forward to this) the Kiss My Ass Club. Vince
goes over several of the past members, only forgetting
off camera member Johnny Ace, who is said to actually
prefer living inside the anal passage of Vince McMahon.
Vince calls out Triple H, and soon Trips begins to “act”
drugged, and “passes out”. Vince then drops trough, and
just then Shane becomes intoxicated, and starts laughing
and pointing at Vince’s asshole. Apparently, Shane just
ingested some of RVD’s cheeba. Shane then tweaks his
nipples (seriously) and passes out. Just then Triple H
rises and pedigrees a bare assed Vince. The show then
ends. Wow. A show built entirely around being drugged
and then being left face down, unconscious, bare assed
and humiliated? Reminds me of most of my dates. And yes,
that’s the note we’re going out on
here.
WHATEVER
HAPPENED TO......
Last year, I introduced a feature where I
looked at a figure from pro wrestling's past,
and let you know what they've indeed been up to since.
OK, I don't really do that. It's more like make fun of
others misfortunes (Someone's got to show up at Virgil's
autograph signing
eventually....).
Anyway, today's topic is JULIE HART. And
unless you saw the Bret Hart "Wrestling With Shadows"
documentary, you likely have no idea who this woman is.
Well, as if it wasn't obvious by that lead in, Julie
Hart was indeed Bret Hart's wife ( Ex-Wife). And if you
did see said documentary, you'll remember her as the
woman who told Triple H that "GOD WILL STRIKE YOU DOWN."
(Hey, God it's been 9 years, what
gives?).
Anyhoo, the reason I'm profiling her is
because she just opened a new website, JulieHart.ca and
as such has entered the public domain...which means she
can be ridiculed. God bless
Satire.
But for the record, I'm sure Julie is a
lovely woman, and I'll be honest, despite the fact that
being Bret Hart's love factory has apparently taken it's
toll on her, there's a picture of her on her frontpage,
that I'd mount as if I were the Jungle cat
in this
very picture
of the "Fam". And speaking
of which, noteably absent from any and all
mention is one Bret Hart (maybe he wasn't
comfortable?). I mean, without being mean, Julie
wouldn't even have a forum to put herself over if
she wasn't in fact once the recepticle of Bret
Hart's loving. So, as a tribute to Bret, I've
doctored a photo and added a comedy Bret Hart
option, exchanging one emasculated creature between
Julie's legs for another:

But wait, there's more! Apparently in an
interview recently given, Jade Hart (top far left),
the eldest daughter of Bret, and arguably the only
physically attractive biological Hart alive, recently
revealed that many members of her immediate family are
interested in becoming involved in the business,
including herself, who she'd like to see
portrayed in an Elizabeth role (only not dead.) You
go girl!
However, of all the Hart children, the
one seemingly most physically suited to the sport
of kings is BEANS HART, as seen here in
arguably THE
SINGLE MOST TERRIFYING PICTURE
EVER. (Seconds later she picked
up the photographer and tore him in half with her bare
hands.)
Standing at some 18 feet
tall, and with a reach of some 50 yards, Beans is
clearly the most physically imposing presence in
history. I mean, just check out those mitts! She could
juggle God with those meathooks! And according to Jade,
Beans was ALL OVER Randy Orton at the Hall of Fame. And
I don't think I'm exaggerating when I state that in lieu
of a Beans bearing down on you, the Legend
Killer clearly shit his pants well before he
could ever reach a gym
bag.
But that's not all! Bret's niece, and
daughter of one DYNAMITE KID, is interested in perhaps
getting involved as well. Here's
a picture. Wow, doing those horse
steroids certainly paid off in the right places for
young... Bronwyne? Them's some *****+ titties. It's
just a shame she looks so much like Dynamite. But what
the hell, it'd be like the best of both worlds. That
body coupled with Dynamite's world class workrate. She
can ride me like Matilda
anytime.
But for the
record, for
all the rumors that Dynamite Kid was a sadistic bastard,
look no further for evidence than him naming his
daughter something that at first glance looks to read
"brown eye" (which for the record I'd bury my member in,
"shades of Dynamite" or not.). Ok, ok, I'll stop picking
on the poor lass. Because Dynamite
could run roll over
here any time and kicks my ass
give me a stern talking
to.
...But hey, this was supposed to
be about Julie, so I'll go back to her; and to close
things off, I'll leave you with this incredibly
unflattering photo. And you know,what? This picture
looks extremely familiar to me, where have I seen it
before?.....

................Wait a
second! I remember!:

She was AWESOME in Matrix
Reloaded! I don't know why Bret would EVER divorce
a woman capable of dispersing her molecules. What a
fool!
Haha, well, that was a big
waste of time. But hey, fuck you, whatever.
I'm just upset that Jade wasn't the one named "Beans"
because I had this really tasteless "Pork and Beans"
joke I was planning on using. Maybe next
time.
Ok, Fuckies, that's
it for this first installment of the "Summer of Sean"
Back-Leg Frontkick's. I'll be back....sometime? That's
right. And while you're here, be sure to check out
everything
and everyone on
the frontpage, because every time you don't God kills a
kitten. See y'all soon. But
first...
....Your
Moment of Zen (your check's in the mail,
Jon)

I'm Sean.
Sean Carless is a man of many hats.
And he wears those hats to cover an ever-increasing bald
spot. Sean's various scribblings have been read at Live
Audio Wrestling, 411 Mania, Honky Tonk Man.com, The
Toronto Star.com, and Lethal Wrestling. He has also
cured AIDS.
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