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By Catherine Perez


Ring the alarm (AND WE THROWIN' ELBOWS, ROFFLECOPTER~!111)! You are now reading a brand-spankin'-new edition of Deadface Walking! For those of you with short-term memory loss, I am Catherine Perez, your alpha, omega, Zeta Jones, and everything in between. That's right, Rey Mysterio isn't the only Hispanic person making a comeback in July, and what's better is I won't be getting my shit stomped in my hometown! After nearly a damn month with no TV, phone, or internet, I have finally returned from the land of the pseudo-Amish to... RAW RERUNS (wait, that's just piss-poor booking) and talks of ULTIMATE WARRIAHHHH BEING THE VOICE OF REASON ON A NEWS SHOW?! What the hell? Anyway, thankfully enough, I got my cable back just in time to watch Kane dance his way out to Edge's Mardi Gras celebration in a giant [Burger] king costume. Kane? Dancing? Ah, how I love WWE... Now that I've rambled on enough, on with the show!

Speaking of Edge's Mardi Gras celebration, a sign that read "WE PAID TO SEE FLAIR" was confiscated at the New Orleans tapings. When asked why, the recently resurrected Vince McMahon gave this statement: "No one pays to see Ric Flair, damn it! No one even pays to see Bobby Lashley! The crowd's stuffed to the rafters with Cena fans! YES, CENA FANS! HAHAHAHAHAHA! CENA FANS!!! HAHAHAHAHA!" Yes, Vince, I find that thought laughable too, but I digress. I find that the only way a "WE PAID TO SEE FLAIR" sign could be confiscated is if "JUST KIDDING. WE PAID TO SEE SOME BIG, SWEET TITTIES!" was scrawled on the back of the it. Ric Flair and his "big, sweet titties" are outraged, I'm sure.

Despite being the guy who is mostly in charge of every storyline we suffer through, Vince McMahon is blaming everyone but himself for the recent 10% drop in ratings. The feeling backstage is that, if things don't shape up, there will be a major shake-up in the "Creative" department with the only ones left being Stephanie McMahon, Kevin Dunn and, maybe, John Lauranitis (because he's an asskisser and the only man Vince has faith in to do his Director of Talent Relations job well even though he fucks up most of the time). What Vince doesn't see here is that, quite possibly, he, Stephanie, Kevin and Johnny Ace are more than likely the ones who are screwing up as far as storylines go. I'm willing to bet that everyone else in the Creative team writes crap to Vince's standards, and are only getting shit now because Vince's standards change oh-so-often. Why not hire a team of writers that are knowledgable in what goes on in WWE, a team unlike that one writer who got fired for going around Raw telling everyone "See you tomorrow at Raw~!". It's obvious that if the writers knew EXACTLY who they're writing these storylines for, they'd never use "Sorry, Creative doesn't have anything for you" as often as they do now. Freakin' duh, Vince. And they say fans wouldn't be able to run WWE...

With WWE obviously out to make fans shit themselves laughing, it seems that ECW is slowly but surely becoming the show to watch if one enjoys seeing Wrestlecrap in the making. Not only are ECW crowds subjected to witnessing the visual Holocaust that is Big Daddy V and his larger-than-life breasts, but now they get to see the unnecessary transformation of Johnny "Don't Call Me Monday (TM Jim Ross and everyone in the IWC)" Nitro to... HEY IS THAT JIM MORRISON?! No! It's JOHN Morrison, the estranged... nobody... of the late Doors frontman. Sadly, Joey Mercury was fired ages ago and couldn't team with John as Joey Hendrix. Surely Melina Joplin can still be used? Anyway, it's funny (only to me, I guess) how this gimmick change comes within days of reports that Jim Morrison might have died of a heroin overdose (as if no one saw that coming). I think if WWE wants Nitro to emulate the fallen rocker, they should go the whole nine yards. Yeah! Have him get completely shitfaced drunk and threaten to whip his little friend out in the middle of a wrestling match! Have him get arrested the next week for indecent exposure! Can you just imagine a drunken Johnny Nitro-Morrison during an interview? I've come to the conclusion that, if the creative team plays their cards right, John Morrison will be one of the greatest gimmicks ever based on humor alone.

John "Bradshaw" Layfield, or Jibble as he's known by wrestling fans who don't understand how initials work, has a huge announcement to make in a month or so. In a blog, Layfield commented, "Mama Juana is coming and it will change an industry!!!!!" Wait. Who the hell is Mama Juana? Well, seeing as I'm Puerto Rican, I'll let you all in on a little something. In Spanish, John can be translated to Juan, and Juana is the female derivative of Juan (obviously). Therefore, in a month or so, Mr. Jibble will be announcing that he will be getting a sex change operation. YES, YOU HEARD IT HERE FIRST, FOLKS. John Layfield is going to become Juana "Puta" Layfield in a month. Congratulations, Juana!

For obvious reasons, Vince McMahon has banned all choke and strangulation holds from WWE. This just in: Randy Orton and Great Khali just imploded from within after being told of the news. Check back next week when I report that wrestling of all types will be banned from WWE programming altogether. Dear God, what will we watch?! Well, obviously, Monday Night Raw will be revamped to the brand new Monday NigHHHt Raw, now with three times the H:

HHH: Now that I have made my much-anticipated return-UHHH, it is time for the obligatory 20-minute promo-UHHH, where I tell you just who the HELL I am-UHHH! Only this time-UHHH, the obligatory 20-minute promo-UHHH is now 2 hours long-UHHH! *Ahem* As a young boy in Greenwich, Connecticut, times were tough...

Oh, Hunter, you self-centered bastard, how we love you~! On top of this, WWE should ban anyone named Chris (with the exception of Chris Jericho, because I miss seeing him in WWE). It'll at least do a lot of us a favor in finally getting rid of Chris Masters. This choke hold ban is just ridiculous; just this past Sunday night, we watched Khali and Kane execute choking maneuvers left and right. I doubt that anyone in the crowd yelled, "WELL, THAT'S JUST INSENSITIVE!" and left the comfort of their $200 seat in the front row to go home. Honestly, though, here's hoping that no one dies from a suplex anytime soon.

Sonjay Dutt recently required an MRI for a shoulder tear, but TNA would not pay for it. Well, that's what Terry Taylor told him. Hey, wait. That name rings a bell... OH, I KNOW! That's Wrestlecrap inductee THE RED ROOSTER! Damn, does Sonjay got it rough in TNA. The guy is subjected to having one of the worst gimmicks in recent memory, gets injured, and is informed that TNA won't be paying any medical expenses by THE RED ROOSTER, a guy who once had, coincidentally enough, one of the worst gimmicks in recent memory. What's next? The Yeti of WCW shame informs Sonjay that he's got to team up with his non-snowy, mummy ass at the next TNA PPV as The Ding Dongs 2.0? Cut the poor guy some slack, TNA; pay the damn bill or give him a raise.

Speaking of crap, there is a rumor floating around that there have been talks of possibly bringing Sean Waltman back to WWE. You may know Waltman as the 1-2-3 Kid, Lightning Kid, Kamikaze Kid, Cannonball Kid, just plain The Kid, Syxx, Syxx-Pac, 6-Pac, or most famous(?)ly as X-Pac. I'm sure, if Waltman were to return, he'd return as Walt-6, a kamikaze robot from the year 2350. I bored myself just typing this up, so I won't blame you if you fall asleep right at this paragraph.

Here's another rumor (as if anything in this column ISN'T one...): Lance Hoyt has supposedly been calling WWE recently, saying that he could easily get out of TNA if WWE were to show interest in him. It has also been said that Johnny Ace has taken an interest to him. Hoyt, of course, commented on the situation: "I am confused as to where these rumors started." As far as I know, rumors start when reporters have slow news days, or when some dumbass on some message board wants to spark up some conversation. So, either this is a big, bullshit rumor, or Lance Hoyt is desperately, frantically dialing WWE's number as you read this. All I can say is... DON'T DO IT, LANCE. Lances don't exactly have the best of luck in WWE; just ask "Boring" Lance Storm and "YEEHAW~!" Lance Cade.

Konnan, who recently left TNA for AAA, has been sent a legal letter by TNA which states that he had been suspended for missing the last couple of shows without giving word of missing those dates. How much more word does TNA need besides "I QUIT"?

Konnan: Uh, hey, I quit.
Dixie Carter: That's fine. So... you're still showing up on Monday, right?
Konnan: No. I just said I quit. That means I'm leaving TNA, you know.
Dixie: That's fine if you quit, but you still have to show up on Monday. I mean, who else is going to wear this chicken suit so we can one-up WWE's Gobbledygooker next week?
Konnan: ...I hate you.

TNA's actually going so far as to state that Konnan can't say anything negative about TNA while he's "suspended". Or what? Or he's "fired"? Dear God. Oh, and TNA wants the money they loaned Konnan for his hip replacement surgery. Way to make a guy feel better after a kidney transplant. Bastards. Well, at least his surgery went well. Get well soon, Konnan!

Now for some news on former WWE stars making their returns... to other shows! First up is "Macho Man" Randy Savage, who will be appearing on VH1's Surreal Life 7. If this isn't funny enough, Savage will be co-starring with the likes of wannabe funny man Carrot Top and fraudulent psychic Miss Cleo, who, as we all found out years ago, does not have a Jamaican accent or psychic ability. I won't be watching, but if any of you readers are, please let me know if Savage and Miss Cleo get into an argument; it might be as funny as the thought of Dustin "Screech" Diamond seeing himself as a legitimate porn star (HAHAHAHAHA, what a joke!). Then there's Rosey, everyone's favorite former S.H.I.T., who will be taking part in ABC Network's FAT MARCH. What is the Fat March? It's a show where you watch a few fat men and women make their way from the starting line of the Boston Marathon to Washington D.C. Being a fat girl myself, I just can't fathom making my way through 570 miles across nine states; back in 8th grade gym class, I had to make myself cry just to get out of jogging one mile! Well, I had to jog it the week after, but I'll be damned if I run anywhere when there isn't a guy holding a gun or knife behind me. Needless to say, the one-mile jog took me twenty-four minutes to complete... because I walked it. I digress. Good luck to Rosey and all the other fat people, because I'm predicting a heart attack somewhere down the line.

Sure, I mentioned this back in May, but I'd like to rant about it again: As if 2006's competition wasn't mindnumbing enough, get ready for the return of the world's most worthless competition to date, the SLUT HUNT DIVA SEARCH~! This year, to protect the Diva hopefuls from the resounding boos of every WWE audience, the Search will be pretaped and edited into each live broadcast. You know what that means! The 2007 Diva Search will be the most "popular" Search yet (at least that's what Jim Ross and all the other commentators will tell us) thanks to major editing of the audiences' reaction. I don't mind the fact that WWE want to fool themselves into thinking this drivel makes for good television, but if Mike Mizanin hosts this crap again, I might have to gouge my eyes out... or change the channel, but gouging my eyes out gives my hatred for the Diva Search and Mizanin that much more oomph. Besides, rubbing my eyes out with sandpaper didn't seem to help last year. Well, looks like we'll be bidding adieu to quite a few wrestlers to be making room for these no-talent skankwads. In that case, let's all wave goodbye to Mike Mizanin! No? Ah, fuck this.

This week's least interesting news bit goes to two men of the "-berg" persuasion. Gillberg, yes, GILLBERG, has been added to WWE.com's Alumni roster, with praise of being the longest reigning Light Heavyweight Champion in history. Now there's something to be proud of... Says WWE.com, "So what if the title was rarely – if at all – defended during his nearly 15-month reign?" WWE.com also takes a couple of shots at Goldberg, even going so far as to ask, "Who was tougher, Goldberg or Gillberg?" The answer is neither; the toughest is actually me - Cathberg. Honestly, being known as the longest-reigning WWE Lightweight champ is like being known as the greatest French soldier in the history of war. Nobody cares. Since we're on the subject of not caring, Spike TV has cancelled Goldberg's "Bullrun". As of this writing, I still have no idea what the hell that show was about. No need to fret, though; I doubt anyone else does either. Now let's groove on down to a segment that's all about having laughs at someone else's expense. Take it away, me!

Thanks, me. How about not using the phrase "groove on down" ever again, huh? Dumbass. Now that every reader is properly confused, I'd like to say how great it is to get back to interviewing pro-wrestling's finest stars after my little vacation. Sure, there was a minor setback with Batista and that idiot Josey Scott a few weeks ago, but this week I've got a guest that can't possibly make me or herself look like an ass. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you... LILIAN GARCIA~! Lilian, please, have a seat.

Lilian: Thanks for having me, Catherine! It's great to be here.

(She proceeds to sit down, and, amazingly, every leg on the chair flies off as Lilian falls to the floor and breaks her ankle.)


Glad you could make it, Lilian. It's great to have you. So, you've recently returned to ring announcing after suffering an injury when Charlie Haas missile dropkicked you into oncoming traffic... or something. How's the healing process been?


Hey! That's a pretty good impression of those skater kids on Scarred. I tell ya, I gotta watch that show with my eyes covered most of the time. Did you see the one with the guy who split his ass crack open? Brutal stuff. Speaking of brutal, in your absence, we were subjected to watching Justin Roberts take over Raw's announcing duties for three or so months. I wouldn't know, I think I blacked out after throwing myself into a ton of bricks. My question here is, why would you do this to the Raw audience? Why would you leave and let Justin Roberts, that turtle-wax-haired bastard, take your job?

Lilian: CATHERINE?! MY ANKLE?! Oh, god, it's getting numb...

Good, maybe you'll stop yelling at me. Sheesh. But seriously, I have to know, Lilian. Why?

Lilian: I didn't have any choice! I messed my leg up - badly, might I add! KIND OF LIKE NOW. Someone had to take over for me! You should be glad it wasn't Candice Michelle!

I should be, but I'm not. I mean, God, it's Justin Roberts we're talking about. I'd rather have a deaf-mute take over announcing.

Lilian: Oh, my God! You're awful!

So I'm told. So, what's your take on Big Daddy V? Does the V stand for Virginia Ham, which is what his giant breasts are obviously smuggling?

Lilian: ...Viscera? I loved Viscera once... so long ago... then he left me for some Godfather hooooooooooes!

(Lilian then begins to sob uncontrollably.)

Pathetic. Calm the hell down, Lilian; in case you haven't heard, Big Vis ate those Godfather hoes the exact same night he slept with them. Be glad that it wasn't you. Besides... oh, hey, is that Charlie Haas? What the balls are you doin' here, Charlie?

Haas (running towards Lilian): Haasinator C-2000 is programmed to terminate! I must terminate Lilian Garcia!

(Haas missile dropkicks Lilian out of the studio and into a busy freeway, where the sounds of cars colliding, cats yelping, and Brooke Hogan singing intertwine. Luckily, NewsCenter 5's chopper guy was there, and flying low enough, to take a picture of Charlie and Lilian just before the collision:

Miraculously, Haas reenters the studio and takes a seat.)

Haas: Listen, I need about $3.50.


Haas: I'm broke. Come on. I was programmed to always have insufficient funds. Please?

Eat me. That does it for this week's edition of--

Haas: Aren't you going to ask me a question?

Here's one: why aren't you gone yet? You messed my interview up. Piss off, you homeless troll. That's all for this week's Hey Man, Nice Shoot! Join me next week when I sit down for a heart-wrenching one-on-one interview with Jeff Hardy! Now, I'm going to go watch the big commotion outside!

Thank you for reading the RETURN~! edition of Deadface Walking! You're too kind. Now keep up that kindness by sending me some feedback via e-mail or
MySpace. Then, if you can bear to wear a smile for another while (what the hell is all that Mr. Rogers rhyming crap?), C-walk your ass over to all the funny updates of the week, which includes Dustychode's guest column on Rejected Gimmicks for Johnny Nitro, Neil Cathan's TNA Victory Road 2007 recap, Anvil's Swagbag's WWE Great American Trash Bash recap, and Cameron Burge pulling double duty with the RAW and ECW rants, the poor guy. I'm Catherine Perez, and remember: always make sure that no one dropkicks you into oncoming traffic - you might be replaced by Justin Roberts.

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.

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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.).