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STUPID LOOK AT RAW! (10/01/07)

We are LIVE from the Quicken Loans Arena in Cleveland Ohio! Quicken Loans, huh? Perhaps one day the fine upstanding financial institution that is RIC FLAIR FINANCE will get its own arena. Which of course, will eventually house its own Ric Flair inspired Football team, The Charlotte Saggyskins. It'll be awesome.
We start things out with Vince with 3 pasty white fat guys standing in the ring. Part of me wonders if perhaps Rodney Mack is about to make his triumphant return and tonight would mark the glorious revival of the vaunted White Boy Challenge. You remember those, right? Rodney Mack would wrestle a random Caucasian because of his disdain for whitey? You know, despite the fact that he was usually paler than his opponents? Yes, that one.
Mr. McMahon then talks about his match tonight, in which he describes as "WRESTLEMANIA QUALITY". That statement right there is perhaps the most telling proof of Vince's current booking mindset. Vince then shows footage of himself defeating Triple H on several occasions, but unfortunately, stops short of showing the footage he took while wielding a hand-held on Trips and Steph's wedding night. Vince's excited cries of "What a Maneuver!" as HHH had his way with his new bride can still be heard today. Just not by us. Thank God.
Vince then turns his attention to these three by gawd athletes, who are a Karate, Amateur wrestling and Sumo Champion respectively. Ok, I can buy the Sumo guy. Motherfucker looks like he just ate Akebono, Sonny Bono, U2 's Bono, and any other Bono you wanna throw in there. I can also buy the amateur wrestler. But ain't no way this other lard ass is a karate champion. I'm telling you. And I say this as a guy with no concept of Martial Arts whatsoever. Ahem. Well, unless they've seriously changed the physical criteria it takes to be a Martial Artist these days. Martial Artist? Paha. A 'sandwich artist' at Subway? I'd buy that. Although, for shits and giggles I would love to attend a Karate class filled entirely with morbidly obese people. I imagine they use link sausages as nunchucks. Of course, that's just me.
Vince then calls out UUUUUUUMAGA, to show what Triple H has in store for him at No Mercy, and I'll be damned if the Samoan Bulldozer isn't back exactly 30 days to the day since he was injured by Triple H. What an odd coincidence. It'd be real strange if other guys that disappeared mysteriously on that RAW 30 days ago all suddenly showed up here tonight, too, eh?
That said, Umaga makes an example out of the three men, as HHH likely laughs backstage saying to himself "what a complete amateur this guy is when it comes to destroying multiple guys all at one time. There was only 3, and they have no futures to ruin". Of course, I'm just paraphrasing here...

COMMERCIAL BREAK. Fantastic Four comes to DVD tomorrow! You know, I'd like Invisible Woman a whole lot more if her spandex Unitard was the only thing that was Invisible. And I'd feel a whole lot more comfortable if Silver Surfer wore pants. You can't tell me he ain't suffering out there in the cold reaches of Space completely freeballin' it? Exactly.
We get our first match up next, as the Hardy Boy teams with the Hardly Boys against the Rednecks and black guy with Yellow hair. Man, I loved Shelton Benjamin in the 5th Element!
Bottom line here: FUCKING AWESOME spotastic spotfest goes down. Including London breaking out the most insane running Shooting Star Press in history off the apron onto Sisqo Benjamin. The sad part was the fucking cameras pretty much missed it completely. Back in the ring, Kendrick hits Sliced Bread number 2 on Cade, and Jeff finishes with a Swanton to get the win. I always wondered why Kendrick never bothered calling his hold "Sliced Bread number 1", to convey its true awesomeness; but then I remembered the first piece of bread in the package is usually that useless end piece that you can never do anything with. And speaking of which, I always secretly hoped that London would name his finish after Peanut Butter or maybe even Nutella spread, that way, working in unison, they could together create a delicious sandwich. I may have been stoned and really hungry at the time I thought of this, so don't listen to me.
We are backstage in the GM's office, and HOLY SHIT HERE'S WILLIAM REGAL. He's back too after being conveniently injured for exactly 30 days. Ahem. Mr. McMahon of course welcomes Regal back, and congratulates him on making a match between Mr. Kennedy (Who is also back exactly 30 days to the day since we last saw him. WAIT A MINUTE~!)  and the son of Mr. Cena himself, John Cena! The one and only John Cena that is, since admitting his father also has the same first name would confuse the kids in the crowd, and soon they'd be baffled and unable to differentiate between a giant muscle bound dude with a Frankenstein haircut and a pudgy middle-aged business man. True story. Vince then asks Regal to "baby-sit" his son Hornswoggle.  BABY-SIT A GROWN MAN WITH A BEARD. Of course, this WAS the same guy who tried to adopt out his grown son. According to WWE, you can in fact adopt adults. It's true. In fact, I myself am currently in the market to adopt the 22 year old college student who washes her car in her bikini every Saturday. She'll call me Daddy. One way or the other. This is my completely exaggerated vow. You can count on it.
Randy Orton is not here tonight, which is carny for he really is here tonight. It's like the bizarro world. Only there's no other plain of existence anywhere where Randy's multitude of chinlocks are entertaining. Oh well. Randy is in a "WWE STUDIO" in Chicago, which you figure out pretty quickly once you see the completely discarded camera equipment and light posts in the back that they never bother to like scoot out of the way come interview time. Randy says he enjoyed what he did to MISTER CENA. God bless, Randy Orton. He'll kick your father in the head, possibly causing irreparable brain damage, but he'll show the man the proper respect you always reserve for your elders by addressing him as Mister. That's so nice.
Randy then claims that he's INSIDE JOHN CENA'S HEAD. Wait, there's room for Randy AND the hamster on the wheel in there at the same time? AWESOME. Oh ya, Randy Orton will be your next WWE Champion so says he. Only he said it way cooler in a totally not-at-all quasi-retarded individual syllable enunciation. Now, if you'll excuse me, I. Have. To. Go. Take. A. Piss. Be. Right. Back.
Ok, I'm back. Ever take a leak and it splits off into two streams from one? No?  Ok then, I won't tell you how I pretended my urine was the Ghostbusters proton charge and the toilet was Stay Puft, and I kept yelling out not to cross the streams. Your loss. Clearly.
Hey, the Cleveland Indians are in attendance! I love how "Indians" and "Red Skins" are the last semblance of subtle racism in the United States still tolerable. I'd like to start a team called "the Harlem Black People" just to see what would happen.
Hey, there's MVP with the standard WWE PSA warning me "not to try what he does". And here I had a full body 1930's male bathing suit ready to go and everything. Way to ruin my dream, dick. On that note though, remember when it used to be just "Don't try this at home"? I used to laugh at the prospect that it's deadly dangerous to wrestle in and around your parents rattan furniture, yet perfectly acceptable anywhere outside your Mom's house. I guess WWE finally figured out how absurd that was, too.
More super exciting Diva Search coverage! Which by the way is completely exclusive to WWE.com! Which might draw the question of "WHY THE FUCK IS IT STILL BEING SHOWN ON RAW THEN?".
That said, we get to see the 6 remaining Divas tackle an OBSTACLE COURSE. You know,if they wanted to be truly legit about it, one of the things they could have feverishly avoided out there would be a pantsless John Laurinaitis. They'll face that one soon enough. But hey, a 'slip and slide' is cool, too. In fact, the next time they're on it, it'll be sliding out the office door of Titan Tower with their releases clenched in their teeth when Creative has nothing for them. True story.
Backstage, Regal is looking for the Leprechaun, but runs into two other completely WWE ignorance-induced stereotypes from the British Isles, The Highlanders! And since they're all evil and stuff now they're wearing BLACK kilts. I suggest they might regret wearing those because black shows all kind of stains, so they'll no doubt have to curtail their secret sheep lovemaking, lest they be unfortunately discovered. Ah, I kid The Highlanders.
Rory then cuts a pretty good promo about wanting their shot at the World Tag Team Titles. Regal should have answered though "Holy shit? We have Tag team Titles?". You know, before HHH steps out of the shadows and reassures him they do, before pinning the Highlanders simultaneously on principle and reminding them if they do win the titles, they can expect more of this. A LOT MORE. Of course, that's just me.
Hardcore Holly battled Cody Rhodes next. Apparently these two are going to eventually form some kind of tag team. Which makes sense if you think about it. I mean, Cody's last name is Rhodes, and Bob Holly used to be a race car driver and tore up the ROADS~! Coincidence? I think so. So, ya, hats off to this tandem. Hopefully, Cody can at least acquire some sort of mastery of a low impact hold no one on earth bar maybe Jim Brunzell cares about, and then claim to be the "Best in the business" at it. That'd be my goal.
Oh ya, that said, The Rookie Monster obliterates Cody again, catching the youngster in the corner with the Alabama Slam to get the win. WWE Thinks about the Future. Clearly. A future where new people can be brought up and subsequently pinned by guys who've somehow avoided being fired for 15 years straight. But a future nonetheless.
Beth Phoenix Promo. She's a Glamazon, you know. Hey, turns out that's not a real place either. And too bad. I had dreams of rowing a boat down the Glamazon river with a big stick, trying to fend off the harsh environment, piranhas and tall muscle-bound good looking women. I guess I'll have to settle for this "Denial" I've heard so much about.
Beth bullies Lillian into announcing her as the *new* Women's Champion, but Lillian defiantly states "if in fact you can defeat Candice" or some such. OH NO SHE DIN'NT. Beth then grabs Lillian by the neck and wonders how she'll be able to sing with a CRUSHED THROAT. Umm, better? I don't know. Candice however bounces out (and boy does she) and makes the save. THE MUSIC WILL LIVE ON. YES. Spanish love ballads for everyone. Lillian still looks sad, though. Ahhh. Why the long face? Haha.
Save_us 227! Our only hope to preserve the sanctity of WWE is to bring in the comedy stylings of Jackée~! Oh, it's 222. My mistake. This week, we get some new gibberish codes that people will no doubt read too much into. People like me. Ahem. But I'll be damned if this isn't the most interesting concept they've done in YEARS. This week's codes seem to read 8-2-11, which people have deciphered as "HBK" in numerology. Coupled with the word SAVIOR. Which is totally like Jesus Christ (you know, the other King of Kings?). IS HBK RETURNING AT NO MERCY? AND IS JESUS COMING WITH HIM? AND CAN HBK CONVINCE JC TO LAY HANDS ON HIS SCALP AND GIVE THE LAZARUS TREATMENT TO HIS TRAGIC HAIRLINE? AND WHY AM I TALKING SO LOUD?
We go backstage to watch Triple H drink some Evian. The sad thing is, this probably still scored a higher rating than anything on TNA. "Um, ok, we could watch HHH drink a bottle of water while awkwardly staring into the camera doing nothing... Or, we could watch 15 dudes pretend it's really hard to slide into a ring in a reverse Battle Royal. But, hey, that water does look kind of refreshing. I think I'll stick with this..."
Triple H versus Dad is next. He's got "two words" for Vince: "Still Married". Haha. 
Vince pulls out his Trump Card in Carlito, your special Referee, whom by the way is not wearing pants with his Referee's jersey. You'd think being an official would be a pants wearing occasion, but I guess not. Long story short, Carlito tries to screw HHH out of a win by hitting a backstabber as The Game attempted a Pedigree on Vince, and then gave him a fast count, but HHH still kicked out. It'll take more than that and 50 tag teams to get the job done, Carlito. You should know better. Carlito then DQ's HHH for shoving him. Ok, then. Here's my question. Who cares about being DQ'd? If you *really* hate a dude, why would you care about rules infractions? "OH NO. NOT THE SHORT END OF THE PURSE MONEY~!"
Umaga then comes out next, and HHH and Umaga give us a preview of No Mercy. Ok, that's a lie. If it was really a preview of No Mercy, HHH would have kicked out of the Samoan Spike then pinned him cleanly after a Pedigree. You'll have to wait for the PPV for that, silly.
Oh ya, Umaga destroys The Game because this is not an actual match where jobs count.
Marella at the Movies~! Santino comes out with the Roeper to his Ebert, Maria. And well, in honor of Ebert, normally I'd give Maria two thumbs up, but well, my hands are kind of occupied at the moment if you catch my drift. (I'M MASTURBATING TO HER~!).
Santino gives his review of the number one Action DVD in America starring hairless ex-wrestlers fighting on an Island with escaped prisoners for freedom. Santino interjects himself into the movie and declares that after watching Steve's acting "we truly are the condemned". I think I love Santino. Just then,the man who is known for his trademarked bald head interrupts! And by that, I mean an allegedly large penis, Val Venis! Val comes (cums?) to the ring, and my favorite part of the scenario is that he's wearing a t-shirt tucked into his towel. He's like that dude who flashes his genitals at neighborhood children while standing at his front door. Or Joe Merrick. Val says he'd like to see Maria starring in some Adult features with him, and well, I tend to agree with this sentiment. Val then compares Santino's "lovemaking" to another movie: "super bad". I myself, would compare this show's writing more to that title; but hey, Val is entitled to his opinion. Santino then snaps and attacks Val's leg and seemingly injures it. Oh no, how will he lose all his matches now?!!!! Ahem. Santino then leaves with his-ah Maria, and I laugh to myself that Val's fucking Towel managed to stay on the WHOLE TIME. Man, he's like the Super Calo of genital covering Bathwear.
Backstage, Tard Grisham is standing by with the WWE Champion, John Cena. John Cena talks about how "they" think he sucks and is played out and will lose this Sunday. But he will show them. They? Maybe these are the same "they" who called Vader, Vader? After all, he was "the man they call Vader". We just never found out who THEY were. Just like Cena never addressed who They are either. They sound like a bunch of assholes to me. Wait. What do you mean I'm one of the "they"? Oh, that clever bastard.
We get a flash(HIYO)back to last week where Hornswoggle caught Melina in the shower. Which of course HORRIFIED Melina.Unlike the cameraman standing right in front of her filming her nude body the whole time. I really need to apply for a job as a cameraman in the WWE. Sure, I'd have to never see friends and family again because I'd no longer exist or be remotely visible, but I think I'd get used to it. And not just because I'm almost virtually like that to them already. Not even.
Melina wrestled Mickie James next. Hornswoggle got involved and cost Melina the match by distracting her. He then chased her under the ring and apparently stripped her naked of her ring gear. Hey, why is it "hilarious" when Hornswoggle strips a woman of her clothes after tenaciously chasing her, but when I do it, I'm a MONSTER? Maybe if I had a dirty face and green bowler they'd appreciate it more. And not call the Police. Maybe.
After the break, Regal catches up to Hornswoggle who has Melina's gear. Steve-O of Jackass fame comes in next and encourages Horny to violently kick himself in the head, Wee-man style. Something makes me think Steve-O might not be guest starring on Little People, Big World anytime soon. Call me crazy. Steve-O then plugs his new show Dr. Steve-O, and says he basically needs a pussy to make over and he's going to go look for him right now. Umm, Kevin Nash works for the other company, Steve-O...
Hard-sell for No Mercy~! And I don't know if it's the fact that I just smoked a big fat bowl, but I'll be damned if I didn't just see a fucking huge dove fly out of my TV. I'm so terrified right now it's not even funny.
Backstage, Dr. Steve-O catches up with Ron Simmons and tries to say he'll make him over. Simmons then throws Steve-O out of the arena and earns his paycheck. For once, I'd have marked out if he looked at the camera and said "Fuck this. I'm not saying it. Go screw yourselves. I'm a human being, damn it!, err, darn it! I'm more than a one-syllable catchphrase! I was the first black World Champion in Wrestling history!"..and then WWE can just dub in "DAMN!" anyway over his promo and he can break down in tears. It'd be great TV. For someone. Somewhere. Probably.
Mr. Cena Jr. vs. Mr. Kennedy, Kennedy was next. No explanation was given for his absence. But I must say, he was looking WELLWELLNESS definitely surrounds this guy. I'm so happy for him. 
Kennedy does his intro and states that he "doesn't like Cena". Hey, who knew Ken Kennedy was a member of the IWC? Anyway, not a bad little match here. Ultimately won by Cena, cleanly, with the STFU. Or as its re-named for this one night "FU Mr. Kennedy for lying about steroids and blowing your complete 6 month story arc and Title run leading into Wrestlemania as Mr. McMahon's actual bastard son". Of course, that'd be called the "FUMKFLASABYCSMSAATRLIWMAMMABS" and well, once you go over like 20 letters, acronyms seem to sound pretty fucking silly. So I think we'll stick with STFU, after all.
But HOLD ON ONE SECOND, MISTER (not Kennedy or Cena). Here's Randy Orton, who apparently made the fastest commute from Chicago ever~! Maybe he rode that giant demon Dove to get the arena? Maybe? Orton then attacks Cena, and lays him out with a shot with the metal steps and an RKO onto the announce table. He then counts to ten to prove that he can in fact win the WWE Title this Sunday, and also to prove that he's capable of actually counting that high. And why not? Randy Orton always "starts what he finishes". Just ask him.
End show~!
Not a great RAW, in my opinion. But it had its moments. At this point, any joy I had about Triple H "freshening up the RAW Main Event" has died under the weight of Cade, Murdoch, London, Kendrick and Carlito's corpses. And Cena is, well, Cena. He's like having the same breakfast forever. Sure Bacon & Eggs are great sometimes, but sometimes you just want  some pancakes that actually do fucking jobs. Wait. That didn't come out right....
However, I did think the closing show attack on Cena by Orton was well done. And I was surprised to see Orton actually in Cleveland, as I had read that he was still on his honeymoon. But on second thought, maybe Mrs. Orton figured out that a PROLONGED STAY IN A HOTEL isn't exactly the best idea when it comes to young Randall, and thus she let him get his ass back to work early. Can't say I blame her.
-THIS JUST IN. Apparently, Cena has possibly legit injured himself. Perhaps it was the strain of having to carry this company on his back for the last year? But hey, I hope this is not the case. I actually respect Cena a lot. Loyally. And while hustling. Him going down with an injury right now means that HHH will take his place and get double the screen time. Trips is like that dude on Heroes who absorbs powers, only its fucking pushes instead. DON'T LET IT END THIS WAY. Quick, someone get Super Cena closer to the yellow sun of the Earth~! It's our only hope to stave off the inevitable.
I'm Sean.
Hey, while you're here, why not check out TWF's *OFFICIAL* MYSPACE PAGE Right HERE? LOL LEZ BE FRIENDS~!
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, Wrestlecrap, and Lethal Wrestling. He has also cured AIDS.

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November 2006


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.).