Hey there, Fuckies, and welcome to The
Survivor Series. A night of survivors, surviving
and survival; not to be confused with a certain CBS
reality show that JUST WILL NOT DIE despite the fact
that people have been basically watching the exact same
fucking show for like 7 years straight. Not that
wrestling and Survivor don't have their similarities,
though. Both feature shirtless guys running around doing
ridiculous things, nonsensical stunts, and terrible
acting; however, no one eats rats in the WWE. They just
fuck them after the show.
Tonight's show comes to us from Detroit
Michigan, which I hear is just a stone's throw away from
Sabu's *no-at-all fictional* hometown of Bombay
Michigan. ECW so wouldn’t lie to
us.
Your announcers for this evening are
Joey “I swear, I’m just a fill in…..FOREVER” Styles,
Jerry Lawler, and The Coach for RAW; TAZZ and Cole for
SD; and Hugo and Carlos for our Hispanic friends, who've
never heard an entire PPV broadcast that didn't end in
an explosion then immediate dead air. It's a wonder
anyone orders pay-per-views anymore there. The last
thing they hear at 10:45 each month is "Welcome to the
our Mai Ev...BLARGGHH".
Onto the show~!
Booker T. w/ Sharmell
w/ bobbling head and twirling hand Vs. Chris Benoit w/o
tooth (and contract): First match in the Best of Seven
Series for the vacant U.S.
Title;
Obviously, Booker has been relegated
to the U.S. Title scene, because he ran out of fingers
in which to count potential World Titles with. So,
unless Booker can get his hands on some uranium or
something to radioactively produce that miracle
6th finger, I think we’ve pretty much seen
the last major Title for the Book-man. What a
shame.
Sean's Edit from
2006: Heh. Shows what I know. Not only did he
get another Title, but he still has only five
fingers. Although six would have definitely came in
handy, no doubt. Had he had that sixth digit, he'd
likely have been able to open that Wendy's till faster
and would have been able to easily make off with
the loot! AMIRITE OR
WHAT.
Anyway, this of course is the first
match of a potential seven, and as such, this one was a
much slower pace than what we’d normally see from these
two; if only because the psychology dictated that the
two were tentatively feeling each other out, instead of
just going to balls out like they normally would. For the record,
the previous sentence was never intended to come across
so homoerotic. But hey, when you religiously follow a
sport with sweaty dudes rolling around with one another
while wearing Speedos, you really have no logical
defense. WRESTLING: IT'S ONLY GAY IF YOU MAKE EYE
CONTACT.
In any event, things start to
pick up
around the ten minute mark, where there’s several close
falls, including a Booker small-package (so much for
that stereotype! Wait. Oh.) countered from a
Benoit unsuccessful sharpshooter attempt. Silly,
Benoit. Like that hold ever worked here. Ahem. Soon
after, Benoit rallies again after eating some Booker
spin-kicks, and dishes out the Rolling Germans!
Which sounds like the awesomest Polka band
EVER. I then ponder to myself if by proxy of
the name of the hold, if all German’s around
the world possess the inherent ability to suplex
people. I mean, fucking Austria doesn't have
any suplexes, right? Italy? Nope. Sure Ireland
has its whip, and Russia's known for its awkward leg
sweeping, but clearly Germany has the advantage in
tandem effort physicality. This is probably the
*real* reason the Allies had so much trouble in WW2. The
casualties at Normandy from suplexes alone were
astronomical. In fact, Potter's field is FILLED
with those poor souls who never had the good
sense to stop rolling after the first
suplex. True story.
Eventually, both men find each other
jockeying on the top rope, as Booker tries a superplex,
but Benoit headbutts out, knocking Booker to the mat,
and allowing Benoit the go for the flying headbutt....
HOWEVER~ Booker rolls clear, and gets a quick Oklahoma
roll- with a Sharmell rope-assisted leverage to pick up
win number one over Benoit! Damn those Oklahomans. They
strike when you least expect it. One minute you're tying
you shoes in Muskogee, and the next, some Okie's
flipping you into a cradle. It's why I never go there on
Vacation anymore.
After the match Booker and Sharmell
celebrate. Sharmell is then immediately whisked back to
the Ricki Lake Studio Audience...
Winner: Booker T. Ah, yes. He's
finally getting his due after all these years of
toiling. Who knew when he yelled "Can you dig it,
Sucka?" he was really referring to the hole WWE
keeps him buried in. You learn something new every
day.
/5
-Backstage,
we see Bischoff warming up for his “match” with Teddy
Long. He’s wearing his maternity Kung Fu (Kung food?)
pajamas tonight, so he obviously means business. Vince
then confronts Bischoff about tonight's match,
and Eric guarantees RAW will prevail over
SmackDown, and more importantly, that he’ll screw John
Cena. Heh. You know, Screwjobs tend to be a
"little more shocking" when you don’t tell people
they’re getting screwed ahead of time. That'd kind of be
like a Rapist telling a woman a couple of days before
that she was going to be violated, and then
her crying out "Why!!!" after it happens. Just
saying. Anyway,
John Cena of course overhears this,
and makes the obligatory Cena gay joke # 30567 at
the drop of the word “screwed”… as children around the
world break out in thunderous laughter and applause.
They then say “poop” to themselves and laugh even
harder. Dear God, Cena. Go, umm, Ruck yourself? That
sounds about right.
Anyway, from there, Vince sucks up
to Cena, and starts speaking “street” to him, even
calling Cena “My Nigga”. On the way out, Vince knocks
the yarmulke off Paul Heyman’s head, throws a head of
lettuce at Rey Mysterio, and insults the size of
Tajiri’s genitals. All in a day’s work. Seriously
though, Vince drops the “N” bomb and struts off, as we
then see Booker and Sharmell shaking their head, with
Book dropping
the “Tell me I didn’t just hear that” line. I’d
say the whole thing was
controversial, but if an obvious African
American like John Cena is Ok with it, who am I to
argue?
(C) Trish Stratus w/
Mickie James w/ glorious huge implants Vs. Melina w/
Nitro & Mercury: WWE Woman’s Title
match.
I
love how in wrestling, whenever a woman disappears for a
while, they reemerge with bigger breasts (see Mickie
James) than they've ever had before. It’s a shame
the real world wasn’t like this. I’d be sending my
girlfriend on vacation all the time. Anyway, these two
haven’t had a hell of a lot of time to really work
together, but the two manage to put together a fairly
entertaining match. They work really stiff here (Hey, me
too!) and in a lot of cases, Melina is full on kicking
Trish in the
head.
At one point, MNM get involved, but
are ejected from the ringside area. From there, Melina
and Mickie James get into it on the floor, allowing
Styles to break out his trademark “CATFIIIIIIGHT!” Back
inside, Melina counters the Matrix move by simply
dropping an Axe-handle on Trish’s midsection. Had Agent
Smith tried this all along, the Revolution would have
ended a lot sooner. Clearly.
The match ultimately ends when
Melina looks to spear Trish off the apron, but Mickie
pulls her clear, allowing Melina to spill violently to
the outside. Once back inside, Trish catches
the groggy Melina with a leaping top rope Bulldog
to retain the title. After the match, Mickie joyously
embraces her hero, as Trish sells it awkwardly. Bah. If
pornos have taught me anything ( and they've taught me
everything!) it's that *all* women really want to
give in to their lustful temptations and ravage one
another. And Doctors don't ever wear clothes under
their scrubs and frequently take on the nursing
staff two at a time. Stuff this awesome has to be true!
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go finish medical
school! Pussy here I come!
Winner and *STILL* Champion: Trish
Stratus. But we’re all winners, really. Except
you right there. There’s no hope for
you.
/5
-Video package for HHH/Flair airs.
Sometimes you just got to go behind the barn and put a
bullet in the horse's head, so says The Game. Sadly, I
didn't realize he meant this only as
a metaphor. And as a result I'm pretty
much banned from most Race Tracks in the
entire North east. Oh
well.
HHH Vs. Ric Flair: Last Man Standing
Match (Non-title)
As
I wrote this, news came down the wire that The Nature
Boy apparently had him a bit of “Road Rage” in
North
Carolina on the weekend, and has
since had a warrant issued for his arrest. The first
thing that crossed my mind though when I heard
this was “Isn’t he a
limousine ridin’ son of a gun? Why the fuck is
he driving his own car?" You know, if not for
the reason that this persona was all a bold faced lie!
Next thing you’ll tell me that he doesn’t
really fly jets and that Space
Mountain is a
completely archaic and outdated amusement park ride at
Disney World. Man.Say it ain't
so.
Anyway, from there, once I
came to terms with the fact that Slick Ric had sold me a
bill of goods, I pictured Ric emerging from his vehicle,
thumbing the other driver in the eye, then turning
around and mule kicking the door, before taking three
steps forward and falling face first to the asphalt. He
would then calmly stand up, strut several times, and
reenter his vehicle and speed away, but not before
breaking suddenly, slicking his hair back with his
hands, then proceeding on. Clearly, this is by far the
most plausible explanation, and the only one I'll
accept....
Still though, I’m sure the judge will let
him off with a slap (chop?) on the wrist once he learns
of the stress Ric was likely under preparing for the
grueling and brutal Last Man Standing match! I mean, who
could blame him? It shortens careers! Men are never the
same! Wait, maybe that was the steel
cage. Whatever.
Anyway, HHH
blindsides Ric Flair as he makes his entrance, and
begins pummeling Naitch before he can even get his robe
off. Had that stewardess in 2002 just utilized this
trick, she could have avoided a whole unpleasant
situation. Get your head in the
game!
Hunter dominates from there, and after a
brief flurry by Flair, the two spill to the floor, where
HHH takes control again, retrieving a screwdriver from
under the ring. He then digs it into Flair’s head and
opens him up. Man. Hunter is taking this whole Survivor
Series “screwjob” thing a little literally! [/got
nothing].
From there, Hunter looks to pedigree
Flair through the RAW announce table, but Flair
awkwardly back body drops Trips out and over, causing
him to, you guessed it, smash through the Spanish
announce table. Man. If I was Hugo, I'd have at
least installed an airside bag in the table. Or better
yet, MOVED THE FUCKER SOMEWHERE ELSE. Has there ever
been two bigger imbeciles and gluttons for
punishment than these guys? See you next month,
boys! Wear one of those inflatable sumo suits next time.
It might help.
From there, Flair gets back into the ring,
and the count begins, but HHH is up at nine. Both men are
hurting at this point, but Hunter once again regains the
momentum, and heads out and steals Lillian’s chair, in
hopes of pedigreeing Flair on it. Ric however, counters
that by dropping to his knees and blasting Hunter with a
low blow, before striking a stunned Triple H down with
said chair. Flair goes to work after that, repeatedly
smashing Hunter groin first into the post, before going
to work on the leg, battering his bad quad, before
subduing him with a rope-assisted figure four leglock.
Hunter taps out, but the Ref just shrugs since the match
can only end in a knock out technically. Once out of the
hold, HHH eventually regains the momentum, using the
steel ring stairs to clobber Ric, but he goes to the
well once too often, and this time, Ric is waiting with
a drop-toe-hold, which of course drives Hunter face
first into the steps. This however still isn’t enough to
put Triple H away. See, this is why I love wrestling.
Only in wrestling will you see a dude hold a cumbersome
huge weapon directly in front of his face, and charge
his foe, then be totally surprised when it goes to hell.
Flair Irish whips Hunter from there, but
makes the unfortunate mistake of lowering his head,
allowing Hunter to hit a quick pedigree. Still though,
Ric Flair somehow recovers, which infuriates Trips, so
he gives him a second. STILL, though, Flair recovers!
Man. Somewhere, Booker T. is crying a single tear down
his face that Ric gets to even live after one pedigree,
when he himself is still selling the single one he got 3
years ago. Now incensed, HHH hits a third, and as the
ref starts the count, Flair starts to stir, which panics
Triple H, who heads to the floor to recover a
sledgehammer under the ring, which of course is
kept there in the case one of the boys
spontaneously gets the urge to start mining for iron ore
between matches? I don’t know. What I do know is, Flair
struggles to his feet, but gets mowed down by Triple H
and said sledgehammer. It’s academic at this point. A
ten count later and Triple H is declared the
winner.
Winner: Triple H. Great match. After the
match, the medics rush out and strap Flair to a
stretcher. Flair is then taken to the hospital
Medical facility, where according to a HHH promo on RAW,
he’s got Naitch a nice room with a plasma screen TV.
Man, I didn’t realize the morgue had access to cable!
You know, the place where a guy who was BRAINED BY A 50
POUND HAMMER would go. Still though, I can only hope the
next time someone savagely crushes my skull in with a
blunt object that I’ll be shown the same generosity.
High definition ready if
possible.
/5
-Backstage,
Orton, JBL, Lashley and Rey are shown arguing. Randy
Orton claims he should be captain, and JBL
agrees. Just then, Batista who was apparently tp’d by
neighborhood children prior to the interview, comes in,
and claims the captain’s role for himself on the account
he’s the Champion.
Everyone reluctantly agrees. Mummified Batista
then turns into a huge whirlwind and ravages Egypt. IT'S
A DEATH CURSE~!
-Edge, accompanied by Lita, a case with
“Money in the Bank”, and in all probability a case of
herpes simplex to go with it, comes out, and announces
the debut of his new show “the Cutting Edge”. He spots
Detroit Tiger Dmitri Young in the crowd, and makes light
of him and baseball. Edge states that all baseball
players are on steroids and amphetamines. Just then,
Edge’s briefcase spills open, and about two hundred
syringes and somas spill out, as
this is
heard over the loud speakers. Ok, I lied. That didn’t
happen. But it’d be funny if it did considering the
hypocrisy. I guess from this point on Vince will just
insist Snitsky’s back looks like that because he hasn’t
done laundry in the last five years. Sounds good to
me.
Anyway, Dmitri ends up replying, and
points out Detroit’s various championships, and asks
Edge where his World Titles are. Edge then
answers, “Oh ya? Well, this is the city
that produced Kevin Nash.” Dmitri, replies
“Touché”, and then hangs his head in shame, broken and
defeated. Ok, just the first part of this paragraph is
true. But there is no comeback for Kevin Nash. It’s
true.
Kurt Angle Vs.
(C) John Cena; WWE Championship match: Daivari as
Special
Referee.
Fun fact: For a guy who’s supposed
to be WWE’s next big player, WWE CHAMPION, John Cena has
yet to main event even one co-branded WWE
PPV.
Sean's note from 2006: Dear
Lord. I pine for these
days.
Daivari is your special referee here. Oh, in
case you were wondering, the censors are still bleeping
out the “you suck” chants. Even on
pay-per-view. However, WWE has yet to explain to us just
how this keeps Angle from hearing the live crowd that’s
chanting it. I can’t be the only one who’d like a little
logic with my sport featuring guys constantly
returning from the dead and pre-planned homicides in
which no one ever get arrested. Or something like
that.
Right from the onset, the crowd is divided.
With some chanting “Let’s go Angle!” while The Chain
Gang (who for the record would be just about the worst
people to do heavy forced manual labor. Just saying.)
with voices suspiciously higher pitched, almost as if
they were under the age of 13, or lacked a penis, chant
“Let’s go Cena!”
Anyway, this is one overbooked mess of a
match, and rather than letting the two just go at it,
they litter it with nonsensical ref bumps as you’ll see.
Angle gets a quick takedown early, and applies the
ankle-lock, but Daivari strangely doesn’t ring the bell
immediately as is customary here for like the last 8
fucking years. Soon after, Cena rallies and hits
his crazy fisherman suplex, (when do fisherman have time
to catch anything if they're throwing all these
suplexes? ) but Daivari out and out refuses to
count.
From there, Angle once again applies the
ankle-lock, and once again Daivari doesn’t just call for
the bell. Man. Somewhere out there Bret Hart is
watching and wondering why this Daivari couldn’t
have been a referee in 1997. In any event, Cena
struggles in the hold, and is repeatedly urged to
“tap” by Daivari & Angle both. And I can only assume
by “tap” they mean Cena breaking out a tribute to old
song and dance man Sammy Davis Jr. Or maybe they’d
just like to see him give up. I don’t know. Anyway,
the awesome unadulterated power of hip-hop allows Cena
to break free of the ankle-lock, and soon
after, Cena catches Angle with a big spinebuster,
and slaps Daivari for his biased officiating. Daivari
then looks like he’s about to disqualify Cena for it,
but Angle intercedes and begs him not to do it on the
account that he cannot win the title on a DQ. In the
confusion, Cena nails Angle from behind, and this causes
Kurt and Daivari to collide, and as a
result, Daivari gets knocked unconscious to the
floor. The whole thing needed Benny Hill music to hammer
it home. Half nude women running in continuous circles
would also be
appreciated.
From there, another referee takes
Daivari’s place. Angle then goes on offense with a
belly to belly, and a combination STF/bow and arrow but
Cena doesn’t submit. Cena then rallies, and the crowd
really starts to boo as Cena he hits a DDT and
follow-up Five knuckle shuffle. Angle in desperation
then attacks the referee, clotheslining him out of the
ring. This brings out a third referee, and the match
continues. Angle hits an Angle slam and covers but the
sheer will to produce more PHAT beats compels Cena
to kick out yet again. Man, he’s just like Hulk Hogan
only black! (blacker?). This infuriates Angle, so he
does what any person would do in that situation; he
European uppercuts the referee. Angle then tries to
revive Daivari, who apparently has the same pain
threshold as Mr. Glass from Unbreakable, as he was out
for like 10 minutes on the floor from a
fucking SHOULDERBLOCK.
Anyway, at the same time as Angle is
rolling Daivari’s semi-conscious body back into the
ring, SD referee Charles Robinson runs in because
there’s no RAW referees left. Angle
then becomes distracted by Little Naitch’s
appearance, and Cena gets up, DDT’s Daivari back out
cold, and lays back down on the mat and plays
possum. Angle then picks up Cena off the canvas,
but is quickly scooped up and FU’d. 1,2,3. Cena retains,
as overweight
teenage girls across the country simultaneously wipe the
nervous sweat from their sizeable foreheads.
Winner and *Still* Champion: John Cena.
Meh. I don’t know. I like Cena well enough, but what
does it say when every crowd since the summer has been
pulling for the HEEL to “overcome all odds” and actually
beat Cena?
I’m convinced that right now, in another plain of
existence, there’s WWE booking out there that actually
makes sense. Jerry
O’Connell, we need you
buddy!
/5
Eric Bischoff Vs. Teddy Long: Battle
of the GM’s.
In this match, Fan interest will be
barred from ringside. All kidding aside, the crowd
absolutely TURNED on this match. But who can blame them?
When compiling my list of must see matches, I don't tend
to have an emaciated black guy who looks like a
half digested milk dud against an overweight ninja in my
top 10. What were they
thinking?
With that said, Teddy Long dodges
Bischoff’s charges early, and taunts his Karate prowess
with “the crane” from Karate Kid. Well, I guess
I can see the comparison. Karate Kid is known for
his trademark “Wax on, Wax off”, while
Bischoff is noted for doing the latter in the Gold Club
while his wife goes down on strippers. Close
enough.
Anyway, Bisch finally gets a hold of
Long, and starts choking Long out with his black belt.
Bisch than does Karate proud by struggling to apply a
sleeper on a one hundred and thirty pound man. At this
point the crowd is chanting “boring”, but they perk up
when the Boogeyman comes out. The referees then start to
argue (the match was officiated by both a RAW & SD
referee to guarantee we see a clear cut winner and umm,
get our money’s worth? Dear Lord). This allows Boogey to
sneak up behind Bischoff (well, as much sneaking you can
do when YOUR THEME MUSIC is blaring) and deliver a big
pump-handle slam to Easy E. before sliding out of the
ring and leaving through the crowd. Teddy then rolls
over and picks up the win. Man. Give me my
money dolla dolla bills
back.
Winner: Teddy Long. But hey, at
least Boogeyman finally, umm, "came and got someone".
About fucking time.
/5
-We then see Team Smackdown making its way
out of the locker room, getting well wishes from
guys who probably weren’t paid to be here tonight,
yet still have to pat them on the back. “Good
luck, tonight! Oh, and btw, I have to live in my
car!”
Team RAW: Shawn
Michaels, Kane, Big Show, Carlito & Chris Masters
Vs. Team SmackDown: Batista, Randy Orton, Rey Mysterio,
Bobby “Abobo” Lashley &
JBL.
Your announcers for this match
are…EVERYBODY. That’s right, FIVE people. At once. It was kind of
akin to taking a long car ride with your family where
everyone is talking at once. Only thing missing was your
idiot father not asking for directions, and getting
completely lost thus ruining your vacation completely. I
can't be the only dude this ever happened
to.
Orton and HBK start things off. From
there, HBK tags out to Masters, and Orton eventually
tags in Lashley. Masters tries to get the Masterlock on
Lashley, but Abobo slips out. Hot tag to Carlito by
Masters, and Lashley destroys him with a huge powerslam.
Carlito then tags HBK back in, who goes up top for a
body press, but is caught by Lashley; but before Abobo
can do anything with him, Carlito runs in, but eats a
dominator for troubles. All this distraction allows Kane
(who is on the apron) to goozle Lashley and chokeslam
him. HBK then quickly covers Lashley for the pin. So
much for Lashley’s undefeated streak. But hey, that
probably won't stop WWE from still saying he's
undefeated. They've obviously decided getting "defeated"
doesn't effect your undefeated record. Much like
playing baseball with retards, everyone's a
winner!
Sean's note from 2006: Turns
out they did claim he was still undefeated, until JBL
pinned him at No Way Out. Apparently if it happens
at Survivor Series, it never really happened. With that
said, clearly this is the perfect night to
have sex with an extremely ugly woman, guilt free. Hey,
just saying!
Rey
is in next and takes some huge throws by Big Show, until
eventually, all Hell breaks loose when
Mummy Batista gets tagged in and destroys everyone
on Team RAW. In the chaos, Kane walks into a big
spinebuster and DAVE gets the pin. From there, Show
catches DAVE with a chokeslam, but Batista kicks out at
“two”. Kane (who hasn’t left the ring yet) and Show then
hit their double chokeslam on Batista and Show covers to
put him out. Animal cruelty~! Kind of surprising
elimination, but sort of expected considered The
Animal's hurt. Quick, get this man to a
Veterinarian!
Anyway, having just lost their
captain, the three remaining members of Team SD all
bombard Show with their finishers in succession.
Clothesline from Hell by JBL, RKO by Orton, another
clothesline by JBL, and finally Rey hits a springboard
senton on the stunned Big Show to pick up the pin.
WELLLLLL, that Was the Big
Show.
From there, Masters and Carlito double
team Rey-Rey, but JBL sneaks a tag and
eliminates Carlito by flattening him with
the clothesline from Hell. I’d have marked out if JBL
had missed and just grazed the 18 inches of hair. But
that’s just
me.
Apparently, in the chaos, HBK
was taken out on the floor, so Masters is left to deal
with TEAM SD, and eventually succumbs to Rey who
drops the dime (Johnny Ace is then seen running out,
picking it up and putting it in his pocket, then
leaving. ).
This just leaves HBK for Team RAW. Rey-Rey
in, who then drop-toe-holds a somewhat woozy HBK into
the ropes, and then follows through with a 619. However,
HBK is ready for Rey’s inevitable springboard assault,
and catches him in mid-flight with some Sweet Chin
Music. HBK falls atop Rey and gets the pin. From there,
JBL in with a charge and potential clothesline from
Hell, but HBK ducks and hits another superkick to put JBL away.
This just leaves Orton & HBK to settle RAW and
SmackDown’s differences. Not much of an exchange here
other than countering each other’s finishers, and from
there, HBK rebounds with the flying forearm, and kip up,
to set up the sweet chin music, but we see JBL, who
hasn’t left the ringside area, try to re-enter with a
chair, distracting HBK and the referee long enough for
Orton to hit the RKO and win the
match.
Winner & Sole Survivor: Randy
Orton. Fun Fact: These two men battled in the finals of
the 2003 Survivor Series with almost the same exact
finishing sequence of HBK having to go through 3
consecutive dudes. Funner Fact: There isn't a
funner fact. And come to think of it, the first one
wasn't all that fun either. I think I'll stop
now.
/5
-After the match, the SmackDown locker room
runs out to congratulate Randy Orton, including Vince’s
latest masterstroke: The Dicks! (Hey I wonder if they
tense right up when people have them in grinding
headlocks?). The locker room then hoists Orton on their
shoulders, but Undertaker’s gong goes off. Orton goes
berserk trying to free himself from their clutches to
escape, but the obviously brain-damaged locker room keep
him hoisted as apparently he’s the only one who now
hears the Druid chanting over the sound system. A casket
is then wheeled out, placed upright, and lightning goes
off, setting the casket ablaze. X-Men Storm is then seen
fleeing the Joe Louis arena in the X-Jet. Ok, maybe not.
But hey, it couldn't have been Undertaker, because let's
face it, he never uses any of this shit when it matters.
I've said it before, but why use chinlocks and bodyslams
when you can project electric currents from your fucking
hands? That'd be like fucking Superman stepping into
that machine that eliminates your powers right before he
fights crime. Jesus.
In any event, the casket opens up, on fire,
and Undertaker emerges…and holy shit, he’s not wearing
pants! Just one big unitard. At that moment, I
contemplate if maybe the fire at No Mercy melted them,
or if in a fit off anger from having the family
relocated from Houston to uninhabitable “Death Valley”,
wife Sara purposely ruined them in the wash. It’s at
this point I realize I’m thinking far too hard about
Undertaker’s pants (or lack there of) and vow to never
speak of it again.
Undertaker then comes into the
ring, and Orton hightails it out of there, as Undertaker
begins destroying the entire SD
roster in... a show of SmackDown unity?! That’s
sweet. Taker first choke slams Brian Kendrick,
who obviously posed the biggest threat to him, as
was evident in the way Spanky tried to flee the ring in
complete terror. From there, Paul Birchill gets
punched in the face, but not before having to call
Undertaker “sir” and say “hello” to him in customary
Smackdown rookie protocol; and finally, William Regal
gets the tombstone, just
because.
Show closes with the lights going out and
Taker posturing, while Orton is seen leaving with a
panicked look on his face. No word on whether this is
really because Cowboy Bob just whispered in his
ear that WWE’s mandatory drug testing
program begins tonight. Just
kidding.
End
Show.
Final Thoughts: Decent, yet not
particularly spectacular show. Flair/HHH continues to
produce awesome matches and drama, and clearly between
them, they're just one mustache and pair of bushy
eyebrows from creating the best pair of novelty glasses
ever. So bonus points there. However, the
Cena/Angle storyline has faltered with yet another Cena
“against all odds” win. It’s hard to sympathize with a
guy’s plight if he wins all the time. After awhile you
start wanting to pull for the “real” underdogs.
Long & Bischoff was a clusterfuck, and
I cannot fathom why Vince & Co. would ever think we’d
want to PAY for this match. As for the main event, Good
match, but not a classic. I blame that however on the
“over Hossification” of the teams, and the lack of guys
like Matt Hardy, Shelton Benjamin or Chavo Guerrero that
could have carried more of the load as opposed to being
one like Chris Masters. Oh well. Might as well get some
of the muscle-bound dudes in there now. This time next
year they’ll all look like Trevor
Murdoch…
Still though, as always, I ultimately came
out entertained. I tend to take off my “smark goggles”
when I watch wrestling. I just put ‘em back on when I
write about
it…
Thumbs
up
WWE 