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Hey there, Fuckies, I'm your venerable and obscenely important party host Sean Carless, and this is the TNA Recap..itation. I think. Maybe. Anyway, in lieu of our friend British Bullfrog no longer being head TNA recapmeister, yours me'ly has stepped in this week for a one time how's your father.  And even though I do not have a really cool nonsensical animal moniker like Bullfrog, (although my ex-girlfriend described me as an "animal in bed" once. Unfortunately, that animal was a sloth, so umm, ignore this part) I will do my absolute best... to make you really really hope he comes back. Hey, I could lie, but at this point, why bother?
Anyway, here's the deal. I'm giving up a Thursday night for this, a Thursday I'd probably do nothing with, but hey it's the principle of thing; so that said, I've decided to get righteously pissed to the gills as I watch and in turn type this, if only to see much like I did with ECW earlier this year , if a dangerously quasi-toxic level of alcohol poisoning will somehow make what I'm about to watch more tolerable. So, there you go. And just so you know, I've been told I'm quite awesome when I'm hammered (by me, but whatever) so brace yourself for shit I won't ever even remember writing and probably won't ever read again. Yup.
Onto the show~!
The show opens up with highlights of No Surrender. And guess what? Someone fucking surrendered. Abyss. That's right, Abyss tapped out, thus completely negating this Pay-per-view's bold claim. Bah, I say. That's just false advertising. Next thing you'll tell me, no one was really anally violated under the auspices of harsh prison rehabilitation during Hard Justice.
Earlier, JB caught up with Christian's Coalition, which ironically enough is made up of Tomko and AJ Styles, and not bible thumping suburbanite followers of Christ. It's probably Tomko's Beelzebub goatee. For whatever reason, church going folks frown on guys who look like high Warlock's in the church of Lucifer. Imagine that. Anyhoo, Christian says that he's here to solve the Matt Morgan problem. If two Matt Morgans are going in opposite directions at the same time, which Matt Morgan will reach it's destination first? It's a real head scratcher. Or maybe it was something about Morgan getting involved in his match at No Surrender. Whichever. Christian then says that he's looking for a Samoan challenge, and will take on any Samoan Jim Cornette can dig up. And by dig up, I'm assuming he doesn't mean literally, so that excludes Yokozuna from consideration. Yup.
Opening Credits~! I think I may have Epilepsy. Don't hold me to that, though. All I know is, in the slew of Action, that I dare say was Total and non-stop, I saw my life flash before my very eyes. Basically it was just me sitting at the computer writing jokes maybe 20 people would appreciate. I'm depressed now. BUT BOY IS THERE A LOT OF ACTION HERE. IT'S NON-STOP. TOTALLY.
Tonight's show comes to us from Orlando Florida! Holy shit, you don't say? We are live, if by live you mean taped from the Impact Zone, which ironically enough also shares the same nickname as my girlfriend's ass. It's probably why she won't return my phone calls.
We are welcomed to the program by our hosts, who are of course the vaunted and celebrated Mike Tenay, the man who's responsible for more facials than Ron Jeremy and John Holmes combined! And by facials, I mean expressions, and not firing one's load into the prone face of starry-eyed silicone-enhanced leading ladies. Although, who am I to doubt Mike Tenay? There's nothing this man can't do! Except maybe tell the difference between the actual name of Jimmy Hendrix's most famous tune, and a hot bean filled paste. Your other host is of course the comically huge face of Don West, in conjunction with his regular sized body. That's right.
Karen Angle opens things up. Or as I like to call her, Karen Anal. You see, last year on a radio show, Kurt Angle admitted that his loving better-half likes it when he Angle-slams her in the ass. YES. Man, who knew that Kurt Angle was a master of two rings? WHO KNEW. Who knew that the fourth "I" was "Brown Eye". WHO KNEW. All, I do know is by this admission alone, and by the precedent already set, Karen Angle has a HUGE future in this business! *Ahem*
In any event, Karen makes her way to the ring, as Mike Tenay switches over to EXTREME HYPERBOLE mode and puts over Karen's, and I quote "Academy Award winning performance" at the pay-per-view. Holy shit, I must have missed that Oscars. I'll definitely have to go out and rent "Incredibly bad wooden acting and no business being given so much TV time" when it comes out on DVD. Definitely. Karen gets on the mic, and calls out the man who "worked his little ass off", and if Angle was to be believed, I'm sure returned the favor later, The TNA Champion, Kurt Angle~! Who kind of looks like Sting. WAIT A MINUTE. THAT IS STING! If it wasn't for the make-up, different build, hair, tights and Scorpions all over him, I'd have never noticed. He's that convincing. Sting comes out and wants to know why Karen cost them the tag team titles at No Surrender. Wait. What? Why is Sting so attached to a belt he only got like 4 days before with a partner he already hates? Ya, thanks a lot, Karen. You clearly ruined the man's life. Karen then accuses Sting of slapping her in the face, which Sting claims never happened. Karen then says she can't actually remember what happened. Holy shit, clearly Steve Austin married the wrong woman! There's still time, Steve! She already digs bald dudes with broken necks! All you have to do is stick it in her ass after you whip it, and you're good to go! Wait. What were we talking about again? Oh ya, Sting. Sting claims she's a liar, and walks up the ramp where there's a secret man hiding under an American Flag. Holy shit, WHO COULD THIS BE? Oh my god, it's Kurt Angle! The ruse is up! He nails Sting with a chair! Who saw this coming! What better way to disguise yourself if you're an admitted American Hero then to shroud yourself in the very symbol of the country you openly and completely celebrate? Who'd see him coming? IT'S BRILLIANT!
So ya, Angle hits Sting a few times with a chair and then handcuffs him in the ropes where Angle beats him down. Just then, a female friend of my brother's walks into our living room, looks at the TV, and asks why Lex Luthor is attacking a clown. (seriously). I tell her that Angle is a bad guy and Sting is beloved and this is by gawd chicanery. She then questions why anyone would support a grown man who dresses up like a mime, then says that in her eyes, Angle (or the bald guy as she put it) is really the good guy for ending the life of arguably the most irritating profession on earth. Kurt then asks Karen to slap Sting, which she does, to which Sting growls and spits on them. "I can totally see his lips moving!" says my brother's friend. "He totally sucks as a mime". I think I may marry this girl.
After the commercial, Tenay promotes tonight's main event of Kurt Angle vs. Abyss in a Submission Six Sides of Steel. Tonight's main event is brought to you by the letter S. And is written by douchebags. Just thought I'd mention that last part. Borash is backstage with the Monster, Abyss. I'd love to be able to precede my name with a handle like that. Me: "Hi, I'm the monster, Sean Carless". Everyone else: "Umm, sure you are." It'd rule on so many levels I lost count after one. Tonight Abyss put his career on the line because he submitted at the PPV. And if he wins he gets nothing. So what pray-tell is the fucking point here? To just prove you're not a quitter? You already fucking quit. You ARE a quitter! There's no going back now! But irregardless, Abyss puts the icing on the cake by growling, the yelling "click, Doomsday!" It doesn't make any fucking sense, sure, but boy does it sound cool. Trust me on this.
Black Reign vs. Sharkboy;
Hey, it's Goldust! Who apparently skinned a fucking Zebra and Derek Zoolander! And look, he's got a little cage with a rat in it. How apropos. This whole arena is filled with rats. And some even put out for David Young. It'll fit right in here. Anyway, this is our first match, and by my count, we've gotten like almost ten minutes and no action thus far. I guess "Total Non-stop" really means, umm, the complete opposite of that. Anyway, Black Reign demolishes Sharkboy in short order, finishing him with a running stunner that he calls the "Schizophrenic". Ha. Awesome. You know what's funny about Schizophrenics? THEY DON'T KNOW THEY'RE SCHIZOPHRENICS. That's what makes them insane, you see. They wouldn't name their holds after conditions they wouldn't have any idea that they actually have. What amateurs TNA is when it comes to properly exploiting the mentally handicapped. You'd think they'd just follow the example of whoever's idea the fucking Reverse Battle Royal was. That guy is the REAL deal.
Winner: Black Reign. Whose black unitard at the very least covers up the perpetual disturbing semi he's always harboring. Jesus, between his junk, and Ex-wife's Marlena's nipples, they must be the most sexually charged people EVER.
After the match, Reign grabs a little Axe, and jabs it into the head of Sharkboy, but not before turning the blade inward so not to actually injure the young man. How completely responsible and not-at-all insane of him. Reign then pulls off Sharky's mask, and tries to put the rat in it? It makes sense, I swear. From there, Eric Young comes out to save SharkBoy from any more possible diminutive domesticated pet-shop rodents nonsensically stuffed into lycra spandex masks, and drags poor Skarky out, but makes sure to quickly cover Sharkboy's head with a towel so not to reveal his actual face. I don't get it. Maybe if he was fucking Spiderman or something I could buy the heartbreak of having your true identity revealed. But would the world *really* be a worse place if we saw fucking Sharkboy's face? I mean, really?
We are backstage with Team Pacman. By any chance is there any disgraced NFL players with the nickname Q-Bert? I don't think the little guy ever got enough credit. What about Dig-Dug? No? Ok, then. Ron Killings tries his best to put the team over, but unfortunately for him, finding Pacman Jones charisma is like the world's longest game of Where's Waldo. Killings says they'll beat Tomko & AJ at the pay-per-view. Ya, we'll see about that. From what I've heard, they have a pretty foolproof plan. From what I've heard, AJ styles & Tomko are going to wear ghost costumes at the PPV, and then lure Jones into a false sense of security by feeding him a convenient trail of pellets, before ultimately cornering him. See? Completely FOOLPROOF.
"Black Machismo" Jay Lethal w/ shell of Sonjay Dutt vs. Christopher Daniels w/ XXX (XX?): Non-title match.
Just think, had I just sent in my TWF Radio Randy Savage impression to TNA in early 2006, I myself would be X-Division Champion right now. That'd rule. I'd totally re-write their whole division. Soon, their mantra of 'No limits' would soon give way to the new credo of "Limits. Quite a few actually." Then I'd go home and type up how shitty a wrestler I am, and I'd get all mad at me, and send a scathing reply email to myself how I'm just an idiotic nerd on our Mom's computer. I'd then never talk to myself again. That'd be it. Relationship over. I don't know about you, but I've put too much work into me to have me turn on myself like that. It's just not worth it.
Anyway, the match is underway, and it's actually quite awesome. Although, to be honest, in my drunken state I'm somewhat distracted and equally fascinated by Senshi at ringside whom appears to be wearing  the top half of a sweet pair of long johns. God bless Senshi. He can kick your ass all while simultaneously empowering you to possibly look to the 1800's for all your undergarment needs. Anyway, as for the match, Lethal mimics a lot of Savage's best moves, bar locking his current girlfriend in a room to keep her safe from the potential bright orange lust of that Stark Ravin' Hulkster, dude. Daniels then comes back with a Blue Thunder Driver, and the BEST MOONSAULT EVER. Which is awesome. I applaud the guy out there who has judged the some 500,000 moonsaults to fuel this bold claim. If he says it's so, then it be so. It's science, you can't fight it. This however only gets two. One could maybe make the argument, that a moonsault proposed to be the best EVER would get a three count, because if not this would completely negate his claim. But that one is not me. I don't know who that man is. But boy does he sound like an asshole. Anyway, soon after, Lethal attempts his Lethal combo, but that's blocked by Daniels, who then finishes Lethal with the Last Rites. Which last time I checked wasn't a version endorsed by the Catholic Church. But hey, why not? If you're going to die anyway, why not go out with a wicked twirling bump? That's how I want to exit this mortal coil. I'm telling you.
Winner: Christopher Daniels! Whose current quasi-homeless beardy look at least somewhat covers the disturbing length of his neck. Seriously. Fallen Angel is the only guy I know who could wear Smackdown's Big Gold Belt as a bow tie. It's true.
-Backstage, Borash hypes the TNA Mobile text service. Last week, it was TNA Mobile carrier pigeon service. But then they fired Test, and that freed up a few million dollars. True story. Jim Cornette comes in and promotes Bound For Glory. He announces an Ultimate X match between XXX and LAX, and also announces that the pay-per-view will mark the return of the REVERSE BATTLE ROYAL. Dear lord. And yes, that's the Revere Battle Royal, and not the reverse PPV buyrate system, that they already have in place under the writing prowess of Jarrett, Russo & Mantel. Just thought I'd clear that up. 
Cornette also announces that Angle will meet Sting, and there'll be a 10 woman battle royal. Just then, Matt Morgan comes in, and get this, Morgan actually speaks perfect sentences and has no discernable stutter! Holy shit, it almost makes you think WWE saddled the guy with a pointless worthless gimmick for no reason. *Ahem*. Could be worse, though. He could have been called Gunner Morgan....
- Commercials! It's SpikeTV! The first network for men! Built completely around dudes in uncomfortably small trunks grinding each other in cages. Spike TV. The first Network for Men who love Men.
-After the commercial, Christian Cage, Tomko and AJ Styles are in the ring. Christian calls out the "7 foot Matt Morgan". At my count though, he has only 2, so I'm casting seriously doubt at the validity of this statement. Oh.
Anyway, Morgan comes out, and Christian blames him for not coming out to prevent Joe from choking the life out of him at No Surrender. He then basically tells Morgan that the three of them are going to kick his ass, but Morgan doesn't back down, and grabs the mic and says he'll be the Enforcer in the Joe/Christian rematch, before referring to HIMSELF as the "7 foot Matt Morgan".  Holy shit, you've gotta feel pretty stupid pulling that liner off. Now that I've said that, the 6'2 Sean Carless needs to go take a piss. Here's some Music to keep you occupied while I'm gone:
Ok, I'm back. Where was I? Oh ya, The Coalition attacks Morgan, but here comes Samoa Joe, who makes the save, with some not-at-all uncivilized fury. Some people might suggest that this is because he's actually from Los Angeles and not the Isle of Samoa itself, but if that were really true, he'd be Los Angeles Joe, wouldn't he? I mean, wouldn't he? And boy would that sound stupid. Just then, Cornette comes out and introduces Christian's Samoan opponent for next week: JUNIOR FATU! Which for the record is the former Rikishi, and not some fucking Children's sandwich at McDonalds. Just thought I'd clear that up. So ya, it's Christian vs. Rikishi next week. Hey, is it just me, or is this whole fucking company turning into the season mode on fucking SmackDown 2 for original Playstation? And hey, how long before Russo has Rikishi turn on Joe, to SWERVE US ALL? "All these Samoans are related! What gives?!" they won't be saying. And speaking of Joe and Rikishi err, excuse me Junior Fatu (...with ketchup and mustard. No pickles), just what does Rikishi call Samoa Joe? Joe? I mean, they're BOTH Samoans! I mean, come on. That shit'd never fly here.  "Canadian James, would you mind passing the salt?"  "No problem, Canadian Sean." "Thanks, Canadian James. That's mighty Canadian of you." "No problem."
But hey, you can't blame Joe for putting Samoa in front of his name. Maybe Joe felt the need to point out his ethnicity because there was some confusion? I mean, the guy wears shoes. Speaks perfect English. Doesn't need another completely unrelated foreign guy in a hat/mask to point out who he's supposed to randomly demolish. When he bumps his head it actually fucking hurts. And his thumb is brittle and possesses no unique constitution that makes it destructive, just like you and I. I can see where confusion could abound.
Main Event: Kurt Angle vs. Abyss in a non-title submission six-sides of steel match and holy shit this is a tongue twister.
So ya, once again, this is not for the title. And if Abyss quits, he has to leave TNA. You see, Abyss is a moron. Because the whole point of this is some convoluted need to prove to himself that he indeed can make it through this without submitting. He HAS to prove it to himself, you see. Actually, this reminds me of the time I worked at Taco Bell ten years ago, and didn't get the order completed in the allotted time. I went out and made the claim that if I could not complete a Bean Burrito in the next 30 seconds, I would NEVER ever attempt to make another Bean Burrito again and would leave Taco Bell forever. This may have been a really awkward way of quitting my job. I'm not sure. But hey, the similarities are there. Somewhere. I'm also now craving a Bean Burrito. Thanks a lot, Abyss. The Bell is closed now. I'm holding you personally responsible.
Abyss dominates early, putting Angle in a Boston Crab, but Angle gets the ropes. In a cage match. It's ridiculous. Almost as ridiculous as the real life crabs found in Boston that look like anguished men crying out in pain with legs behind their backs. True story.  Abyss continues to dominate from there, and gets a superplex of the top of one side of the 6 sides of Steel. God bless this six-sided ring. I actually invented the 2 sided ring back in the 80's, but it kept tipping over. Stupid fucking physics.
Commercials~! But since I don't remember any of them, you get DINOSAUR JESUS~!
After we return from the commercials, Angle pulls off a sweet moonsault, and hey, where the fuck did that random chair in the ring come from? Just then, I get the visual of Star Trek's Scotty high fiving TNA owner Dixie Carter on the purchase of the matter Transporter, obviously bought with all the money they saved from lucrative multi-million dollar signings of the Bashams. Just then, I remember that Scotty died last year and that ruins my joke. But then I remember that Scotty appeared on Star Trek The Next Generation once, and that's like 400 years from now, and he's still alive then, so obviously THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE. Or something.
From there, Angle tries to use the mystery chair, but Abyss punches it in his face. I do that to my grandfather every Thanksgiving when he brings up the extra seats from the basement. I don't think I'm invited this year.  Abyss then attempts the Shock treatment, but Angle floats out and applies the Ankle lock! However, Abyss somehow counters out and gets an anklelock of his own! But hey look, somebody's using a sword to cut through the ring! Nothing potentially dangerous about that. Soon we see it's Judas Mesias emerging from the mat, son of James Mitchell, hell-bent on revenge. Huh. It sure is ironic how these evil manager types always seem to have gigantic brooding sons with flames on their tights and white contacts who exact revenge on their former charges. Anyway, Judas destroys Abyss, as Tenay and West have a coronary at the by gawd shock of it all. But seriously, who the fuck hides under the ring? At least Kane had the common sense to just casually walk out and rip the door off when he was good and ready. Random attacks seem to lose their intimidation edge once you realize the motherfucker in question has been under the ring reading a newspaper and sipping coffee, waiting for his cue for like an hour. This is as bad as having pre-cued theme music when you're *spontaneously* debuting. Anyway, Judas takes a little black bag of glass and dumps it out, and uses a shard to cut the arms of Abyss. And he does this all while wearing the smallest trunks possible. You'd think being a potential emissary of Satan would merit a heavy pair of slacks, but you'd be wrong. The whole thing is being sold as devastating, and the blade jobs definitely were, but at the end of the day, Judas is just basically Chuck Palumbo with contact lenses. (Chuck Hellumbo?)
Winner: NO-CONTEST. Although, no one quit, so shouldn't this shit still be going on? "Well, here comes a blood spitting demon in his underwear with a bag of glass. Let's just call it a night".
-We close with a video montage. Suspiciously of all the stuff I just watched. Man, it seems like only an hour ago I saw this.
End show~!
FINAL THOUGHTS: If you're making a sandwich, it's actually a pretty good idea to put your mustard on the bread first. It gets all sloppy when you just blob it right on top of the lettuce.
That said, to be honest, this was my first taste of TNA in a quite a while, and I have to say, much like a 3 day old sub you accidentally left in the lazy susan, it tasted pretty good at first, only to repeat (on Saturday) soon after and leave me with some tremendous pain. You see, the announcement of the "Fight for your right... to party, and like pretend it's really not easy to just slide into a fucking ring" battle royal is like suffering to me. Why would they bring this nugget back? It is by far the single dumbest concept not created in the AWA ever devised in pro wrestling. Therein lies my problem with TNA. It's got great wrestling and wrestlers, but most of this stuff doesn't make sense. It happens with like zero logic. And when you're hammered to such a high degree that you've become convinced that you're in fact having a conversation with the rabbit from Donny Darko, yet you STILL realize what you're watching on TNA makes no sense, well, clearly it's time to do whatever it was I forgot I was going to say here. Yup. Vagueness and temporary memory loss FTW.
Still though, I'm nothing if not whatever this expression is, so I'm giving it a thumbs up. Mostly because I just caught a glimpse of myself giving one, and man, do I look real cool doing it. Thumbs up~!
I'm Sean.

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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.).