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WWE SURVIVOR
SERIES
2007
(11/28/07)
 
Welcome, one and all, to WWE Survivor Series 2007... THE RANT. I'm Catherine Perez, this month's PPV Recapper. HEY, WAIT, DON'T RUN AWAY~! Anyway, yeah, welcome to Survivor Series, the pay-per-view where Chris Jericho most likely will not redebut. That's tomorrow night. In the meantime, you can enjoy the return of fellow Canadian and the only man to ever have sex with his alter ego(so says the title of his book, "Adam Copeland on Edge"), EDGE~! He's feeling a little bitter, you know. I think that's supposed to be a play on the word "better", but I wouldn't know. I really wasn't going to order this show, but I guess I just couldn't pass up the opportunity to possibly see Edge make his return while wielding that very chainsaw from the Survivor Series commercials, and slice the shit out of everyone a la Bruce Campbell from the Evil Dead series. Um, yeah.

Joining me tonight to occasionally add in his always-hilarious quips is the circle to my square, the salt to my pepper, the peanut butter to my jelly, and tons of other little 'je ne sais quoi's that I've never understood, Sean Carless! Thank goodness, too; chances are that I'll forget to make jokes tonight. Sean's basically just saving my ass here. What a guy.

The show begins with a retrospective on the last 20 years' worth of Survivor Series. The weird-voiced announcer guy from all the pay-per-views assures us that the tradition continues. Damn; this year, I was expecting a GOOD Survivor Series. Oh well. They go over some of the bigger matches on the card, like Michaels/Orton and Undertaker/Batista. Holy crap, that's a lot of pyro. And we are LIVE from Miami, Florida! Surprisingly, Joey Styles greets us, which probably means we're getting the ECW match first. Hey, what do you know?
 
Sean's note: YES. I have learned a whole new appreciation for John Morrison after his revelation that he is in fact Kung-Fu Jesus last Tuesday. And it's a good thing too, because Martial Arts ability is sure as shit going to come in handy when JBL finally catches up with him eventually. Man, you thought being raped in the shower was bad enough before? It's that much worse WHEN IT HAPPENS IN SLOW MOTION. This is obviously one time where Morrison's insane bullet-time movements are going to come back to bite him in the ass. Well, what's left of it anyway...
 
CM PUNK (C) vs. MIKE MIZANIN vs. JOHN MORRISON for the ECW CHAMPIONSHIP

Punk is out first with his shiny, plastic belt. Mizanin is out next... WITH A BELT? What the hell? Apparently Mizanin's a WWE Tag champ. Yeah, you just live with the fact that Mike fucking Mizanin's face will go down in the annals of WWE history, whoever booked that shit. Morrison makes his way out next with the other Tag belt, and I just shit my pants laughing at the slow-motion hair flailing he gets for an entrance. Too bad Morrison didn't follow that up with "L'Oreal. Because I'm worth it." And the match begins! Miz and Morrison both go after Punk in the corner, but Punk retaliates with a big kick to Miz's face. Miz and Morrison are thrown out of the ring, and Punk goes airborne~! A "CM Punk" chant breaks out. Miz blocks a top rope attempt from Punk, and Mizorrison double-team Punk. Mizanin turns on Morrison and tosses him out of the ring, and proceeds to put a chin hold on Punk. Morrison distracts Mizanin, and Punk delivers a sweet Enziguiri on the Miz. Morrison makes the first pin attempt after tossing Mizanin out of the ring, but only gets a 2-count. Japanese sleeper on Punk, and Punk is tossed out of the ring as well. Mizanin makes his way back into the ring for some one-on-one action against Morrison. Christ, Mizanin's pants sure are distracting with all that Bedazzlerness. Morrison delivers an awesome-looking split-legged corkscrew moonsault onto Mizanin. Punk reenters the ring and delivers a Huracanrana onto Morrison. Morrison flies right into a powerbomb from Mizanin, which just looked impressive. Wait... something Mizanin took part in actually impressed me? Amazing. Punk goes for the pin on Mizanin, but settles for a 2-count. I've gotta say, this match is moving pretty quick for me to type out everything they're doing. Punk goes for the GTS on Mizanin and retains the belt at about 16 minutes, so says my clock.
 
Sean's Note: Miz, done in by the GTS, eh? Personally, I'd have preferred if Punk debuted a new move called the GTA instead. You know, where he kills Miz with a slew of interchangeable weaponry that appears out of nowhere, before fleeing the Arena from directionless cops, all while desperately looking for a giant hidden white star to bring him back to status quo. But hey, maybe that's just me. I was just playing San Andreas and felt it apropos. Clearly, WWE needs to come up with a wrestling version of that Franchise. GRAND THEFT AUTO: PARTS UNKNOWN? YES! I mean, who wouldn't want to run over Ultimate Warrior with a stolen car, or hold up Papa Shango for all his pimping money? The possibilities are endless! Almost as endless as the pointlessness of this whole paragraph. Almost.

WINNER: CM Punk, because Morrison told JBL "fuck you", and Mizanin just plain sucks.

Definitely a good opening match, even for ECW. The best part? I'm still trying to decide between that Huracanrana into a Powerbomb and the "MIZ-ERABLE" sign in the crowd.

JBL and Michael Cole take over commentary, and go over the MVP/Hardy goings-on from last Friday. Some woman with an amazingly large drive-in movie screen forehead interviews MVP. MVP assures us that Matt Hardy will not be competing tonight, and is walking with a crutch, which resembles his entire career of needing a crutch to get through all his matches (those crutches being Jeff Hardy and MVP himself). Lovely.
 
 
Sean's note: For a guy who reptedly "cannot die", Matt hardy sure fucking gets injured a lot. My theory is that his immortality stems not from any sort of inborn inability to perish, but rather because he spends so much fucking time in the hospital, that there's a doctor always on hand to make sure he never has the chance to flatline. True story.


TEN-DIVA CLUSTERFUCK WITH LOTS OF DIVAS AND LITTLE ACTION

Beth Phoenix is out first, and the cameras cut to Jim Ross and Jerry Lawler. Lawler is, of course, licking his lips in a way that'll have LL Cool J want to sue for gimmick infringement. Layla is out next with shitty techno-ish music (though, not as shitty as Candice's music). Christ, these women walk fast. Okay, Jillian, Victoria, and Melina came out as I typed those last three sentences. Melina severely botches her split-legged entrance, but laughs it off. She decides like spread her legs a second time for her fans, with a big ol' smile on her face. Torrie makes her way to the ring next, followed by Michelle McCool, who I actually thought was Kelly Kelly. Yeah, she's out next looking like a skanky XFL cheerleader. Maria's out next. Can we just get this match over with? Christ. Here comes Mickie James, and this match is on! Victoria and Michelle start off the match, starting off with a few holds. Michelle knocks Victoria onto her back and goes for the pin. Barely a 1-count. Michelle tags in Torrie Wilson. Victoria delivers a side slam and covers for a 2. Victoria tags Layla in. Layla misses a roundhouse kick. Michelle tags Kelly Kelly in. Oh, God. Luckily, Layla tags Jillian in. Jillian screams hard enough to make my ears bleed. Kelly goes for some fancy-pants pin, but no cigar. Maria is tagged in, followed by Beth Phoenix. As I finish typing that, Layla tags in, then she tags Melina in. Melina gets caught on the ropes as Mickie James is tagged in. Mickie delivers a Lou Thesz Press onto Melina. There is quite a lot of interference in this match, and now the action has spilled onto the outside. Mickie gives Melina a... passionate kiss... and delivers a finisher I didn't even see for the win.

WINNERS: Mickie James, Kelly Kelly, Torrie Wilson, Michelle McCool, and Maria. Oh, and anyone with a penis, I guess.
 
 
Sean's note: Mickie James clearly possesses the most effective erotic wrestling finisher seen since George Hackneshcmidt gave Frank A. Gotch a combination handjob/ 3/4 Nelson in 1904. A hold that wouldn't be matched until Lou Thesz spooned Buddy Roger's testicles in 1950 before lulling him into a false sense of security, and pinning him with an Oklahoma roll. But of course, who could forget the historic Bruno Sammartino bearhug/rectal thumb insertion of 1975? He retained the WWWF Title and successfully checked Stan ''The Man' Stasiak for colon cancer. It was beautiful.

 
We now get the large mugs of Jonathan Coachman and William Regal staring down at a pacing Hornswoggle. Wonderful. Here's Randy Orton's giant mug to let us know that he's beating Shawn Michaels tonight. It went a little like this: "Tonight, I'm going to beat... (long pause)... tonight, I'm going to beat Shawn Michaels." Let's try to remember who we're feuding with, okay Randy? Now, we get to hear from Shawn "Skinner" Michaels, who was talking so low, that I could barely hear him over my keyboard keys clacking.

CODY RHODES and HARDCORE HOLLY vs. LANCE CADE and TREVOR MURDOCH w/ OUTBACK STEAKHOUSE THEME MUSIC for the WORLD TAG TEAM TITLES

Rhodes and Cade start off the match. Quite a bit of back and forth action between the two. I've gotta say, I couldn't care less about this match. I'm actually more enthralled with the size of Holly's ears. I think that, if Holyfield ever lost an ear chunk again, Holly would be more than happy to donate 1/16 of his ear, which should be enough to reconstruct Holyfield's ear AND construct a skintastic, lifesize replica of the Twin Towers. As if you didn't already guess, the crowd is quite dead for this match. I'm sure Holly's used to the silence, but with those giant fucking ears, I think it's safe to say that the silence he hears is deafening. Good Christ. Murdoch delivers a Canadian Destroyer (FORESHADOWING~!?!) on Cody for the win. Petey Williams is not amused. Neither am I... or the fans, I guess.

WINNERS: Cade and Murdoch.
 
 
Sean's note: Good to see Murdoch break out the old Canadian Destroyer. A hold, I, as a Canadian know all too well. It's true. You see, much like Germans can't help but suplex, Samoans drop people, Russian's leg-sweep, The Irish whip, Indian's deathlock, the Polish hammer things, Oklahoman's Roll, Europeans, as a unified continent, collectively uppercut, I, as a Canadian, cannot help but destroy. It's my biological urge as a Canadian citizen to leap through the air at anyone who dare bend over to say tie their shoes, and bellow out "STAY BENT OVER SO YOU CAN BASICALLY PILEDRIVE YOURSELF!". I can't help it. It's part of our genetic make-up. I'm thinking of becoming an American citizen just to shake this albatross. Wish me luck.


For some reason, my cable provider's TV guide is telling me that this show ends at 2 AM. Say it isn't so! I can't possibly sit through all this.

Todd Grisham is standing by with Triple H and his team. Kane somehow brings up the Katie Vick incident. Hunter apologizes with a meek "Um, yeah, sorry about that." Jeff brings up the fact that H put him in the hospital once, which gets a "Yeah, my bad." Hilarious.

It's time for the Survivor Series elimination match! I guess it's five-on-four tonight.

TRADITIONAL SURVIVOR SERIES MATCH; TEAM TRIPLE H vs. TEAM... who's leading the other team?


Sean's note: I love that the Heels here are apparently captained by Umaga, a dude who doesn't speak English (yet surprisingly was able to put his savage tendencies/language barriers aside to get a custom grill made) and thus would have no way to communicate with them. And even if he could? I'm starting to think he wouldn't be much help. Clearly, the dude has short term memory problems like that guy in the movie Memento, if he has to tattoo HIS FUCKING COUNTRY ON HIS STOMACH. I'm convinced that somewhere on him, he also has a tat that says "Remember Samu Jankis". But on second thought, that's probably not possible. Guy Pearce's character in that movie contracted his amnesia through HEAD TRAUMA. And well, we all know that cannot happen to a Samoan. Well,  if wrestling has taught us anything....
 
 
Kennedy enters first, and those viewing at home miss half of his old-school microphone introduction. Finlay is out next with his shillelagh. Here comes Big Daddy V and his handler, Matt Striker. What did Striker do to deserve that? The clock ticks, and MVP is out with his anti-snore strip. Here comes YOUMANGA, with a new tattoo? Well, it looks fairly new. Here comes the team of faces, starting with Kane, with an outie belly button and bologna tits! Out next is Rey Mysterio with the support of children all over the arena! Why does he always nuzzle his head into little kids wearing his mask? Jeff Hardy is out next with the support of thousands of 14-year-old girls. Last, but certainly not least, is Triple H, with water, fan support, glow sticks, fancy lighting, awesome music, thinning hair, his own watery pyro (now there's a hell of an oxymoron), and a spotlight! Man, this asshole gets everything. Haha, there's a guy in the crowd that looks like a Mexican Dante Hicks from Clerks. Lord, help me through recapping this match.

Kennedy and Mysterio start off by locking up. Kennedy takes Mysterio down to the mat. Mysterio retaliates with an arm hold, but Kennedy reverses into one of his own. Kennedy knees Mysterio in the face. He puts a stop to Mysterio's momentum with a clothesline. Mysterio gains the upper hand again and goes for the cover for a mere 2-count. Jeff is tagged in, and goes for a Poetry in Motion. Kennedy tags MVP in. MVP kicks Hardy in the back of the head, then seems to feign injury. Big Daddy V is tagged in. Good, I could used a break from typing so much. V steps all over Hardy's chest, then picks him up and slaps the crap out of his chest. Hardy makes it to his corner and tags Kane in. Kane quickly falls into a belly-to-belly suplex and kicks out of a pin attempt. MVP steps into the ring and eats a sidewalk slam for his efforts. Finlay interferes and eats a chokeslam. Wow, I'm hungry. Kane is quickly eliminated from the match. Triple H enters the ring and attempts to take Big Daddy V off his feet. H rolls out of a splash attempt. V tags Umaga in. Christ, between CM, V, MVP and H, there's a lot of letters in these names...

Belly-to-belly suplex on Hunter, and Umaga gains the upper hand. A Triple H chant breaks out in the arena. Umaga misses a flying headbutt (you'd think it'd be banned...) Hunter tags in Mysterio, who is quickly taken down. Mysterio dodges a giant ass to his face and delivers a Huracanrana, followed by a 619. Umaga kicks out of a pin attempt from Mysterio. Mysterio goes for a springboard crossbody, but is brought down to the mat FAST. Mysterio is eliminated from the match. This match is now a 5-on-2, with Triple H and Jeff Hardy left to represent their team. Kennedy tags himself in, and delivers several right hands and kicks to Jeff Hardy. Hardy clotheslines Kennedy twice. MVP blocks a corner maneuver from Hardy, and is tagged in. MVP gets Hardy in a head lock. I wish the crowd was a bit louder for this. Hardy kicks MVP in the stomach and eliminates him. Kennedy is back in the ring. Triple H is tagged in and delivers an atomic drop and clothesline on Kennedy. Kennedy gets a series of Irish Whips and clotheslines. Hunter goes for the pin, but Big Daddy V interferes and goes for an elbow drop. H rolls out of the way and Kennedy gets the drop instead. V is quickly disposed of and Kennedy is eliminated. V takes a double-DDT from H and Hardy, and Big Daddy V is eliminated to a chorus of high-pitched cheers!

Finlay enters the ring next, and gets Hunter in the corner to deliver some kicks. Finlay goes for the cover, but only gets a 2. Finlay delivers some knees to H's back, and goes for... well, he got on the top rope and just jumped off and landed on his feet. Right. Jeff Hardy is tagged in, and he quickly backs Finlay into a corner. Hardy goes for the pin, but also gets a 2. Two seems to be a favorite number tonight. COULD IT BE A SIGN OF CHRIS JERICHO'S RETURN?!1111 Nah, that's just my inner mark finding clues where there aren't any. Hardy is tossed out of the ring after a kick from Umaga. Hardy slowly makes it back in, and Finlay gets a 2-count. Finlay drills Hardy with elbows, and JBL reminds us that Finlay loves to fight. Is that so? So does every wrestler ever. Hardy delivers a Whisper in the Wind out of nowhere. Umaga is tagged in, and Triple H is in afterwards. I looked down at my keyboard, looked up, and Finlay was tagged in again. A spinebuster from H sends Finlay to the mat, and he goes for the Pedigree, but Umaga kicks Hunter out of the way. Finlay headbutts Hunter, then goes for the Celtic Cross before Hunter fights out and delivers a Pedigree. No pin here, and Umaga is back in the ring. H tags Hardy in, but delivers another Pedigree before Hardy executes his Swanton Bomb. And this match is OVER~! after Hardy pins Umaga for the win. My fingers hurt.

WINNERS: Team Triple H~!

Leave it to Triple H to pin every single man in the match except for Umaga and MVP. Hunter and Hardy pose for the crowd and hug - typical post-match stuff - while Umaga stares angrily from outside of the ring. Hardy claps along to his own music.
 
 
Sean's note: I echo Catherine's sentiments here. But God bless HHH anyway. He at least buried the hatchet with Kane... but not before making sure there was enough room for 3/5's of the Heel team in that hole as well.  Man. With HHH at Survivor Series, much like dropping the fucking bomb on Hiroshima, you're probably just better off  being dead then ever trying to survive here. But hey, what did we expect? I for one though find it hilariously entertaining. I don't dislike Hunter. Quite the opposite. I find him infinitely amusing. HHH appearances have now turned into a great new drinking game. You take a drink every time Hunter pins more than one guy in a single night. The only real problem is, you die of toxic alcohol poisoning before the show's even over. But it's a fun way to exit this mortal coil. I'm tellin' you.


Shaquille O'Neal and his kids... and a little white skater kid... are in the crowd. The kids all play to the cameras. Cute.

Back for some more Hornswoggle pacing! Mr. McMahon enters the office. It's time for a one-on-one talk with Hornswoggle.

MR. MCMAHON vs. HORNSWOGGLE in a FATHER AND SON TALK~! Wait, this isn't a match...

Mr. McMahon tells Hornswoggle that he made his match against Khali because he's a McMahon. McMahons always rise to the occasion, even if they're the underdogs. They're warriors. They have omnipotence. They've got grapefruits the size of the Grand Canyon. They have a knack for speaking in super-long-winded promos. He didn't say that last part. Whatever.

HEY~! It's Shane McMahon! Dancing and bouncing and whatnot. Shane grabs a microphone and tells us that it is his distinct pleasure to introduce his dad. That's it? Here comes Vince and his awkward walk from Hell. Vince and Shane hug. Awwww. Shane is privileged to introduce to his "little" (HAR HAR HAR) brother, Hornswoggle.

HORNSWOGGLE vs. THE GREAT KHALI w/ Arab Bischoff (TM Justin Shapiro and not some random WWE Creative asshole) in a HOW QUICK CAN THE CROWD GET TO THOSE BATHROOMS MATCH

Hornswoggle's pretty pumped up after that McMahon speech. Out next is Khali, and I'm glad that my fingers will finally be resting during this match. Vince and Shane leave the ring and request some chairs over at ringside. Arab Bischoff grabs a microphone and reminds us that this is a sanctioned WWE match. How unfortunate for us. How bad is this match going to be? Well, to put it this way, the crowd is chanting "WE WANT SHAQ." The chants are so loud that Vince just has to acknowledge it. He apparently doesn't care about what the audience wants. Believe me, we all knew once this match was booked. Hornswoggle tries to kick Khali in the legs, but Khali merely scares him off. More "WE WANT SHAQ" chants ensue. Hornswoggle spits green Tajiri mist into Arab Bischoff's face. Hornswoggle pulls a shillelagh out from under the ring and beckons Khali to the ring. Khali quickly disposes of the stick and kicks Hornswoggle, well, all over. He's got a giant foot, what can I say? "WE WANT SHAQ" continues. Finlay interferes and beats the crap out of Khali a shillelagh of his own. Khali gets a kick to the balls from Finlay. Khali actually sold the kick, too. Oh, this match ended in a DQ, but something tells me you don't care.

WINNER: Not us, that's for damn sure.
 
 
Sean's note: Got to love the irony of Miami fans chanting for Shaq over Great Khali. I love how they can so love and blindly support one uncoordinated marble-mouthed giant lummox, yet despise the other...


Some guy from the Chicago Cubs is sitting in the crowd. This guy from the Yankees that looks like this one guy who played Micky Dolenz in that VH1 movie about the Monkees is also there. Johnny Damon, I think. We get a recap of the Michaels/Orton match from Cyber Sunday, where Michaels got a superpunch to the balls. Cut to Raw the next night, where Michaels makes the funniest face after saying "...get my rematch, and I want it noooowww." We get to see all five of Randy's Monday night Superkicks, which, I believe, made for some good build-up to tonight's match, you know, despite the fact that we've already seen this match five times for free.
 
Sean's note: Tonight's WWE Title match marks the first time in ten year's HBK has wrestled for this particular title at this event. AND WE ALL KNOW WHAT HAPPENED last time. Many in my homeland of Canada are still reeling from this national tragedy. It's hard to believe it's been a decade since 11/9. I can still smell the burning sunglasses sometimes. In fact, I don't know if I ever told you this, but I was at Ground Zero. And boy was Patriot a fucking TERRIBLE World title challenger.  It's hard to believe two months later Bret would be gone. Destroyed by the Terrorists who commandeered Earl Hebner and made him ring the bell. NEVER FORGET 11/9. Unless it's that D.O.A. vs. Truth Commission Elimination Tag match. You can forget about that. It's Okay. 


RANDY ORTON (C) vs. SHAWN MICHAELS for the WWE CHAMPIONSHIP, WHERE MICHAELS CAN'T USE HIS PATENTED SWEET CHIN MUSIC FINISHER OR ELSE HE LOSES THE MATCH AND THE OPPORTUNITY TO CHALLENGE ORTON FOR THE BELT FOREVER, AND ORTON CAN'T GET HIMSELF DISQUALIFIED BECAUSE THAT'D BE A VERY DOUCHEY THING TO DO AT A DAMN PPV WHERE WE ALL PAID $40 DOLLARS TO SEE MICHAELS WIN ANYWAY. Dear God, where's my inhaler?
 
 
Sean's note: I think as an added caveat to this match, HBK should have insisted that Randy cannot use a single chinlock lest he forfeit his title. This would be amusing if only to see Orton just scratch his head, shrug his shoulders, and then hand the title to Michaels...

Michaels is in the ring first with his Skinner hat and facial hair. Orton follows next. I really didn't want to be the one to notice this, but Orton's massive bulge isn't exactly massive tonight. How about turning off the A/C in that arena? The bell rings, and we get... headlocks. I can already see where this match is going. Michaels takes Orton down to the mat and got himself a near-fall. More headlocks. Orton tries to counter, but to no avail. Orton's trying everything to get out of it, but Michaels just holds on. To quote the little midget from this one South Park episode, "Now you know how it feels." Orton finally breaks out. Michaels nearly goes for a Superkick, but remembers that really long stipulation. Oh, look, Michaels locks Orton in a body scissors and a chinlock. Orton tries to get to his feet, but quickly falls back down. What could be going to Michaels's mind right now?

Michaels: THIS MAN RUINED MY LIFE. NOW I WILL HUG HIS HEAD TO DEATH~!

Finally, the chinlock crap is over... for now. Orton falls to the outside, and Michaels delivers a sweet springboard moonsault. At his age, that's pretty impressive. The funniest thing about this match is the fact that JBL and Michael Cole look bored to tears watching it. Michaels gets Orton is a Sharpshooter. OOH, CHEEKY~! Quick, someone ring the damn bell! Where's Earl Hebner when you need him? Orton reaches the bottom rope, forcing Michaels to break the Sharpshooter. Damn. Orton delivers a Hangman from the ring apron. Back in the ring, Orton delivers a DDT to Michaels's head. This DDT, however, didn't nearly end Shawn's career. Jim Ross tells us he's glad to see some pure wrestling in the ring. Did I mention Michaels is now in a headlock? Michaels chops the crap out of Orton's tits. Michaels delivers a flying forearm, and an atomic drop to Orton's shrunken balls. Dear God, I just got the worst visual of Orton's balls actually being two of Bobby Lashley's heads. Don't ask me how or why I imagine things like that; I don't know either. Michaels goes to the top rope and delivers a flying elbow onto Orton's chest. Michaels begins to tune up the band. The referee reminds him that he can't, but Michaels tells him "I don't care." There's no Superkick after all. Michaels, and you won't believe this, puts Orton into a Crossface. His wife and kid must be fearing for their lives now. Orton delivers an inverted backbreaker, and assumes his weird stalker position. Orton thinks again about an RKO, and is about to go for a kick to HBK's head. SWEET. Nevermind. Michaels catches Orton in an ankle lock! Lots of moves from wrestlers who aren't with the company anymore in this match. Orton finally breaks out of the lock. Michaels takes Orton down again, but he gets kicked into the turnbuckle for his efforts. Michaels nearly goes for a Superkick, but drops his leg in sadness, and falls into an RKO anyway. Oh well.

WINNER: Randy Orton, and the creator of the headlock... chinlock... Someone please tell me what the difference between a headlock and a chinlock is.
 

 
Sean's note: Booo! Once again, the emergence of a potential BUDDY CHRIST SPINNER is DENIED. But I don't think these two have seen the last of each other. In fact, I racked my brain trying to think of further stipulations to give Randy Orton the advantage. Up first? Orton, at Armageddon, will insist on a match where CHARISMA IS BARRED FROM THE ARENA. You see, HBK won't stand a chance in Orton's natural habitat. It's a no brainer.
 



Randy takes his title and raises it in the air for everyone to ogle at. He leaves the ring, but slowly reenters to stare at the fallen Michaels. He lifts him up by the head and pants and drags him into the corner. He orders Michaels to say that he is the best. He turns away, and, upon turning back around, eats some Sweet Chin Music. What follows is the most hilarious fucking face in the history of post-Superkicks ever. If anyone out there is taking screenshots of this show, please send me a shot of that.

Here is a SAVE_US promo, complete with really dramatic music. Tomorrow night, folks! Don't act like you've lost your excitement.
 
Sean's note: Yes! 24 hours until Chris Jericho SAVES US. Well, unless it's from Diabetes. Insulin still works the best for that. Everything else? Y2J's your man.

BATISTA (C) vs. UNDERTAKER in a HELL IN THE CELL MATCH
 
 
Sean's note: The Devil's Duplex returns! YES! No doubt negotiated with an affordable mortgage (emphasis on the mort) by Undertaker himself; the man who has admitted that after wrestling he would like to GET INTO REAL-ESTATE! Yes sir. That's a fact. Need a deal on the Beelzebub's Bungalow of your dreams? Taker's got a DEAL for you. Got your eye (which is void of all pigment) on Satan's Semi-detached? Undertaker's your (dead) man! Just in the market for Screwtape's Studio Apartment overlooking a lovely maintained courtyard? Taker will hook you up. And not just on a cross  symbol. I mean, why not? Who knows more about YARDS, than Undertaker? After all, he spent 4 straight years telling us to stay out of his (just like other old people do!). Clearly, there's not a thing Undertaker can't sell! Unless it's the general offense and finishing holds of any of his opponents for the last 17 years...
 


This had better be good. They go over the build-up for this match, starting at Cyber Sunday. Bad Batista promos, typical Undertaker promos. "You said you want a rematch? Fine. You've got it." This loser gives in so easily. This video package basically plays up the fact that Undertaker's been in tons of these matches, so he may have the advantage here. I'm dying for a snack break here. See that? I starve myself to bring you all coverage of this show. I'd better get some feedback on this.

I WALK ALOOOOOONE, HUH~! Cancer nonsympathizer Batista is out first with his title. Next is the Undertaker, with a big, fire-filled, smoky entrance. I can't believe he doesn't ever walk down to the ring while coughing his ass off. There's more smoke on that stage than inside Scooby Doo's Mystery Machine. Speaking of which, can you imagine Undertaker high on weed? When he gets the munchies, he snacks on the souls of the damned. Fuck yes. Undertaker slams the cell door shut, and he and Batista are now locked in. Taker and Teest lock up, and Dave clotheslines Taker. Undertaker whips Dave to the ropes, and goes for the Chokeslam. Batista battles out with an elbow. Undertaker makes the first pin attempt, but we all know that a Cell match never ends in 2 minutes. Undertaker goes for the Snake Eyes, and it's obvious that Batista doesn't know how to sell it. Undertaker finds a steel chair under the ring and brings it into the ring with him. Batista spears Taker and grabs the chair himself. He runs at Taker in the corner, but Taker kicks the chair into Dave's face. Undertaker tries another pin, but Cell matches don't end in 5 minutes either. Batista escapes a triangle choke attempt. The action goes outside of the ring, and Taker grinds Batista's face into the chain-link fencing. Taker uses a chair to slam Batista's Adam's apple. Batista is now bleeding from the mouth. JBL tells Michael Cole "listen to the crowd, Michael!" I don't hear a damn thing, unfortunately. Undertaker goes for the pin, but, as has been well-documented throughout the night, he only gets a 2. Undertaker goes for the Old School, but Batista catches him and delivers a spinebuster. Batista goes for the cover after some back and forth action, but gets only a 2-count. A running powerslam gets Batista another 2-count pin attempt. Batista tosses Undertaker outside of the ring and slams his head (more like hands) onto the steel steps. Undertaker is whipped into a cell wall and clotheslined. During a replay, Batista is thrown into the steel steps. Undertaker brings Batista to his feet and drives him head-first into the cell. I think someone bladed too deeply here, because Batista is super red in the face right now. Undertaker slams a chair onto Batista's head. Back in the ring, Undertaker goes for the cover, but Batista kicks out at 2. Batista catches Undertaker at the top turnbuckle and blocks another Old School attempt. He delivers a Superplex and falls into a triangle choke shortly after. Batista is just bleeding profusely here. Undertaker grabs a steel step on the outside, but Batista blocks the attack. Batista goes for the step himself and repeatedly rams it into Taker's head. Undertaker is now bleeding as well. Minutes later, Undertaker goes for the slowest Tombstone piledriver ever, and goes for the pin. Batista kicks out~! Another Tombstone onto the steel step that's inside the ring, but... HEY, IT'S EDGE~!11 And he's got no chainsaw, but a camera. So much for the Evil Dead stuff. Edge is basically beating the shit out of Undertaker with anything he can find. He drapes Batista over Undertaker, who scores the pinfall.

WINNER: Batista

How the hell did Edge get into the Cell, anyway? Better question: why does Edge look like the guy from Puddle of Mudd? JBL and Michael Cole are baffled as to how Edge got into the Cell. I have an idea. Now, it's just a theory, but hear me out. Edge isn't really Edge. Edge is actually Undertaker, a well-known master of disguise. Undertaker is really Edge, who was medically cleared to wrestle anyway. Since Undertaker has awesome mystical powers of doom, he, as Edge, magically appeared in the ring. Holy shit, that'd make for an awesome storyline. I've just been informed that Edge was dressed as a cameraman. Oh. Fuck that, I still stand by my theory.
 
 
Sean's note:  Great match. I'm almost sad to see this Undertaker/Batista rivalry end. Or as I've coined it, "Dead man Walking..through a Pit of Danger".  But holy shit. Where did Edge come from? Some people are saying from under the ring, while others have stated that Edge dressed up as a cameraman. If it's the latter though, it at least makes sense why we wouldn't notice him. CAMERAMEN DON'T EXIST ON OUR PLAIN OF EXISTENCE. WWE has taught us this, if nothing else. Irregardless though, I can't think of a more apropos ending than Edge interfering here. I mean, he's clearly at home there. I mean, it’s not like this is the first time Edge has been inside a deadly giant  box for which men are never the same again. But enough about his relationship with Lita…
 
And yes, one year exactly to the PPV where Lita left the company forever, I'm still beating that dead horse. And only beating that. A year-long lack of Lita titty-shirts may have played a part. Oh well.


This show was much better than I expected. Hell, I even enjoyed the ECW match. To think that I wasn't going to bother ordering it... Sure, I just gave up 40 of my hard-earned dollars to see Edge return in the last six-or-so minutes of the show, and he didn't even bother to bring a chainsaw attached to his severed arm, but I can live with that. So should you. I give this show a thumbs up.
 
 
 
Catherine Perez is a proud owner of three e-mails from WWE's legal department, which she regularly prints out for when all the toilet paper runs out.  She was the first person to call the Ghostbusters after witnessing something strange in her neighborhood, and is thus immortalized in a song that was made popular four years before her birth.  Catherine enjoys collecting vintage WWF t-shirts, painting on her clothing, and the smell of crushed dreams in the mornings. She also shot J.R.
 
** Pictures in this Recap created by Sean Carless.

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TWF FLASHBACK

November 2006

SATIRE: DISCONTINUED WWE XMAS PRODUCTS!

by Sean Carless

With Christmas just around the corner, what better way to spend your few remaining dollars (left over after the seemingly infinite line-up of fucking pay-per-views ) then on the following "quality WWE merchandise!" After all, if they don't move this stuff, and fast, stockholders just might get time to figure out what "plummeting domestic buyrates" means!... and well, I don't think they need to tell you what that means! (Seriously. They're not telling you. Everything is fine! Ahem.).

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