Tonight’s pay-per-view comes to us from Fresno! Home of...something? I don't know. 

 

Onto the show~!

 

Edge, with furious anger. (You think you know him?) vs. HBK with FORGIVENESS, thanks to the loving embrace of our lord and savior;

 

First and foremost, you gotta love that Shawn Michaels is still rockin' the name Heartbreak Kid at 40 years of age. I can just picture him at 80 with the same nickname, and wearing a colostomy bag with pictures of little broken hearts on it. It'll be a scene.

 

This match started slowly, but that was mainly due to the fact that both men would be pulling double duty tonight and also competing in the Rumble (Fun fact: Brock Lesnar and Bret Hart are the only two wrestlers in history to wrestle a match first than come back to win the Rumble that same night. Funner fact: THEY DON'T EXIST ANYMORE! Vince burnt the tapes YEARS ago!).

 

Back and forth match ensues, and Edge decides he is going to take a powder, and HBK, hears POWDER? WHERE? and goes out  after him in look of the alleged blow, then remembers he made an oath to Jesus, and thinks better of it. Ok, maybe not. HBK just goes out after him, but ends up eating a spear on the floor.

 

Michaels eventually makes it back in, but Edge is waiting, and HE tunes the band, and hits a HUGE spear on Michaels…but Shawn kicks out at two. Man, you'd think after all of his own menacing stomping in the corner for like 12 FUCKING YEARS STRAIGHT, that HBK would have known there was nothing but pain waiting for him if he turned around. "Hey, that stomping sound sounds real familiar! And well, I'm standing here, so it's not me. Huh. Maybe I better turn around and see where it's coming from?...BLARRRRRRRRRRGGGH".

 

Anyway, after HBK kicks out of his patented flying hug of death, Edge is distraught, and begins to rip his own hair out, although I think it’s done to just make HBK feel better about his own follicle situation. Maybe? from there, Michaels rallies, and gets the top rope elbow, and tunes up the band himself, but I guess he lost his little Orchestra baton, because as he looks to connect with the chin-music, Edge ducks out and scoops HBK up on his shoulders and nails him with a quick electric-chair drop. This is how Ted Bundy was executed I heard. His Uncle "King Kong" is still distraught about it to this day.

 

From there, Edge then applies the “edgecator” leg lock, that JR calls… well, nothing, again. Come on, Jim! You know every single sun-fucked college football player on earth, and what fucking hat size they wear over their fucking swollen noggins, but you can’t just ASK Edge what his fucking hold is called? What gives? Michaels ends up getting to the ropes, but Edge pulls him back into the middle where Michaels gets a quick two off a counter into a small package. Michaels then tries to cradle Edge, but Edge rolls through, and grabs the ropes for the win. Michaels stares a hole through Edge as he leaves.  Oh, come on, Shawn. Let he who hasn't sinned get stoned on GHB. Wait, that's not how it goes...

 

Winner: Edge. You think you know him? You know what he allows you to know. You're just a puppet. And a pretty damned life-like one if you ask me. Wait, what were we talking about again?

/5

 

-Backstage, respective GM’s Eric Bischoff and Teddy Long argue over whose brand will prevail tonight. Torrie and Christie Hemme are here, and are your *official* ball-handlers this evening; and even for me, this joke is too easy to comment on.

 

-Eddie Guerrero, wearing the 2^nd greatest suit in wrestling history, (Nikolai Volkoff’s post cold-war threads still rank number one with me. When communism fell, apparently so did every reputable Big and Tall store in the country) comes in to pick his number. Ric Flair then also comes in, and they both draw their respective numbers. Flair is happy with his number, but Eddie is apparently not. Guerrero then gives Ric a congratulatory hug…where he picks Flair’s pocket and switches numbers with him! Eddie quickly leaves, and Flair braggingly displays his number (not realizing Eddie switched) to Christie and Torrie, who then shoot him a look like he had just been swimming in a cold pool. Flair then looks at the paper and freaks out as he sees that he accidentally has Eddie’s prescription for Somas! Ah, I kid.

 

- Gene Snitsky approaches Heidenreich in the locker room, and tells him that he “likes” him. Snitsky then reveals that he too, like Heidenreich, doesn’t like caskets (yet, is surprisingly ok with putting children in them). Bottom line is Snitsky has a plan. (which I'd assume doesn't involve him washing his shirts...EVER. That's some nasty shit going on there).

 

Undertaker w/ druids vs. Heidenreich w/ the lost dignity of Michael Cole: CASKET MATCH

 

The Druids roll the casket to ringside on behalf of their master, The Undertaker. Although, I never realized that Houston Texas actually had a druid population. Bass fishin’….Rodeo….and witchcraft? What the fuck is wrong with this picture? Anyway, Taker’s 30 minute intro aside, this match finally gets underway. These two have wrestled almost every night for the last two months, so no one embarrasses themselves…too badly. Taker dominates early until Snitsky runs in for the assist, and the two double team the Deadman. Heidenreich: “I like what you do to babies!” Snitsky: “ I like what you do to…  rectums?” Ok, maybe not.  Anyway, Team Abortion looks to roll Taker into the casket, when Kane all of a sudden emerges and takes out Snitsky. But hey, logically speaking, did  Kane just lock himself inside the casket in the random case some shit went down? I mean, seriously? It's times like this that I start to really get the inkling that wrestling may be predetermined. Then I see Undertaker make some magic and I am convinced of its legitimacy again.

 

....At this point, a sudden case of the munchies (go figure) caused me to quickly duck out and grab a Submarine sandwich. I asked for mustard, and as the guy squeezed the tube, about half a pound of oil squirted all over my sandwich first. I hate it when that happens. But it is kind of a metaphor for this night so far. I don’t know exactly what metaphor that would be, but an oily sub has to mean something bad.

 

-Anyway, thanks to the miracle of videotape, I now continue on with this recap….

 

Both Kane and Snitsky depart the scene, leaving Taker and Heidy, one on one. With both men on the floor, Heidenreich pulls back the outside mat and rolls the casket into Taker’s head as he lay hunched against the ring apron. The crowd chants holy shit, and I feel sorry for them for that. Back inside, Heidenreich tries to apply a cobra clutch… but forgets how to do it for a second. Never a good sign when it’s your fucking finisher. “Excuse me,  Mr. Opponent, but could you maybe stay stunned so I can try and figure out how to do this properly? Awesome. Wait. That's not it. How but this? Damn. Hold tight, there. I'll be right with ya. Thanks a bunch.” Anyway, Heidenreich tries to roll Taker into the casket, but Taker returns from the dead (HIYO), and makes his comeback. He sandwiches Heidy’s head in the casket, and drops a leg drop on it. For whatever reason this is frowned upon at most funerals. Strange.   Heidenreich briefly rallies and hits the blackhole (of workrate) slam, then goes for a pin. YES, A PIN. I guess 2/3rds of his brain haven't thawed out yet from being cryogenically frozen since 1945. Oh wait. they aborted that gimmick. Now he's just a poet who enjoys anal sex (Does Lanny Poffo know about this blatant trademark infringement!?). Still though, Taker comes back, hits a slippery chokeslam (Heidenreich and his buttery turkey-like skin slipped from his grasp in mid-lift) and finally finishes Heidenreich with a tombstone and rolled him into the casket, to get the win. Hopefully by the time Heidenreich reaches the morgue, someone will have the good sense to get this guy some pants. I can't imagine being laid to rest for Eternity in fucking tiny red Speedos.

 

In a side note, I finally realize why Taker has worn long pants for 15 years. He has my grandfather’s legs. (and the black ankle socks aren’t exactly helping his cause either. Just saying).

 

Winner: THE UNDERTAKER and elderly foot apparel stores across the country!

/5

 

-Backstage, Teddy Long makes Eddie give back Flair’s number. But if Teddy really wanted a SD! guy to win so badly, why wouldn’t he just go along with the scam? IT MAKES NO SENSE. Anyway, Flair vows revenge, and HHH (who’s on the scene along with Batista) calls Eddie a “jumping bean.” He then high fives Ultimate Warrior, and the two walk away hand in hand knocking over Mexicans as they leave. Ok, maybe this just happened in my version.

 

-Anyway, HHH wants to go over Evo’s strategy for Randy Orton with Flair and DAVE, but Batista wants to go draw his number instead. TENSION. Clearly, a trip to obedience school is order for The Animal here. Think about it, HHH. He'll not only come when you call, roll over on command, and no longer require a leash; but he'll even soon be able to groom himself! Thank the lord for that last one.

 

-Backstage, Christian draws a number he’s happy with, when John Cena enters and the two have words. Christian declares that anyone can freestyle rap, and asks Tomko to give him a beat…to which he hilariously says “no.”  Christian then goes into a Barney Rubble-esque rap (You know, “I’m Barney Rubble and I’m here to say..I love fruity pebbles in a major way.”  And if you haven’t ever seen that commercial, I’m either really old, or pathetic…or both.) Cena then retorts with one of his own, complete with a slew of gay jokes. Man, I just hate lowbrow comedy like that! *Ahem*

 

Big Show w/ hands like FRYING PANS vs. Kurt Angle w/ head shaped like a bowling ball vs. © John Bradshaw Layfield w/fingers that smell like Billy Silverman. WWE Title match.

 

Personally, I think they should have just had Big Show vs. JBL one on one, and saved Patch Angle from having to completely disintegrate in the middle of the ring. I mean, really, rather then having another Divas Search, they seriously need to use that money to hire that medical team that turned Lee Majors into the fucking six-million dollar man. “We can rebuild him…we have the technology!” Or, maybe, I just want to hear THIS sound as he transitions into the ankle-lock....

 

Anyway, as per every JBL match, gimmicked spots like tables breaking are peppered through out to disguise the fact that he can’t really work a great main event match. Typical three way stuff here, where two men go at it while the third man lays unconscious on the floor. In this case, it’s Big Show, who attempted to choke-slam JBL through the announce table, but Angle makes the save, causing Big Show to take the ol’ King Kong back bump through said table to temporarily incapacitate him. Show eventually recovers and manhandles both men, even slamming Angle on top of JBL at one point, probably marking the first time someone’s turned the tables and actually forced a man on top of Bradshaw….

 

JBL and Angle however block a double choke-slam attempt by Show with a kick to the knees. The two then connect with a stereo chop block/clothesline from Hell combo from opposite sides to take the big man down. Angle then hits the Angle slam (who else’s would it be?) on Show, and follows that up with a big German (not this) on JBL that almost does him in, which is kind of ironic if you think about it. Angle covers Show but he kicks out. Show then disposes of Angle,  then choke-slams JBL, but he gets his (das) boot on the ropes.

 

Outside the ring, Show tackles JBL through a gimmicked part of the ringside barrier and returns into the ring where Angle has a chair…but Kurt miffs on a shot and ends up landing headfirst on the chair himself courtesy of Big Show.  Just then, Orlando Jordan, and JBL's "Secretaries of defense" The Bashams run in. I'd question what would possess JBL to ever hire these guys as his secret service, but then I remembered that at this time last year, Shaniqua was violating them with a fucking cat o' none tails. After that, taking a bullet for the boss is a mercy killing. Clearly. Anyway, they all get involved, and this brings out Angle's charges,  Luther Reigns, the man who can't be killed by blade nor bullet, and Mark Jindrak, whom I'd like to personally find out if he too possess the very same ability. And if not? Well, no harm no foul. Anyway, as 5 of the most heatless schmoes on earth all battle it out with Big Show, JBL is rolled back into the ring and he hits a quick clothesline from Hell's Kitchen on Angle who shatters into pieces like C-3PO, and JBL gets the pin. Luther then carries his master's remains backstage to try and reassemble him.

 

Winner and STILL Champion: JBL.

/5

 

-Sideshow Carlito approaches Batista about signing his "get Teddy Long fired" petition. Batista declines and stares down Carlito, who began chewing his apple. Batista then said “I LOVED you on the first American Idol! That Kelly Clarkson ROBBED you!” Ok, he didn’t really say that, but I’d have marked if he had. Actually, he reminded Carlito what he did to La Resistance with their Quebec flag. And with the latter in mind, if only we had men like Batista here in Canada. I’m pretty sure he’d have much more interesting solutions to our separatist problem. Even if they did involve anal penetration. (no wonder Patterson lives there!).

 

-Bischoff accuses Teddy Long of having too much interference in the previous title match, and promises the same won’t happen next, because Evolution is BANNED from ringside. That's right. There'll be no talk of man evolving from apes in his arena! Wait. He meant. Umm, never mind.

 

- A funny Wrestlemania 21 vignette airs with Eugene as Forrest Gump. Would have been a lot better with the supporting cast of Shelton Benjamin (Bubba) and Robert Conway (Lt. Dan) though.

 

© HHH Vs. Randy Orton  World Heavyweight Title

 

Turns out this is to be the big blow-off  between the former Evolution partners, instead of Wrestlemania. And speaking of "Evolution", clearly that is what has clearly played a part in getting us to this moment.  You see, originally, the organism known as Randy Orton, or "Chinlockus Maximus" as its better known, despite being somewhat hindered by its inability to hunt without the use of copious prolonged restholds, eventually evolved to the point where it was able to stand on its own two feet. Feet that could leap into the air and deliver picture-perfect dropkicks, but feet just the same. This of course made him it a threat to certain animals at the top of the food chain. You see, though natural selection is decidedly non-random in its manner of action, other more capricious forces have a strong hand in the process of evolution. Namely the creature known as "Triple H", or it's more common Latin derivative: "Title-Reignus Uninterruptus". This organism has a profound influence, and in many instances it overwhelms the effects of natural selection, and sabotages it by evolving or adapting itself. In this case, the Title-Reignus Uninterruptus has physically adapted to the point where its shoulders have evolved and grown to the point where it's virtually impossible for them to be laid flat on the ground for more than two consecutive seconds. This phenomenon, has made the Orton organism an endangered species, and fair game. GAME. TIME TO PLAY THE GAME. Bwahahaha.

 

I live to inform.