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By Catherine Perez


Good day, wrestling fans~! I'm Catherine and this is Deadface Walking, which may or may not be Pope Benedict XVI's #1 source of literary asskickery... and probably beat out Mein Kampf for said #1 spot. Between laying in bed for days like that 1,300-pound Mexican guy from one of those I'm Insanely Fucking Fat shows and mindlessly bobbing my head to the musical stylings of bands like Megadeth and Chromeo while writing boring essays on whether Psychology is a science or not, I have no idea where the hell my week went. Well, I'm in an animated GIF mood this week, so most or all of my Photoshoppery will be animated for your enjoyment. And I decided to tweak Hey Man, Nice Shoot's format just a teeny bit to celebrate a certain show's imminent return to television. Just thought I'd mention that.

I'd like to say up front that I won't be commenting on the miserable plight of Jake "The Snake" Roberts, 'cause that shit's just a huge mess that's ready to turn into a huge legal mess. There are dozens of children who now know what Jake's snake looks like, and, sadly, I'm not talking about Damien. However, allow me to take the time to thank Jeff Hardy for providing this column with replacement hilarity. Hardy was detained at the Nashville Airport early Wednesday on his way home from Tuesday night's Smackdown tapings. At first, this was all anyone knew of the situation, so you bet your ass this was the subject of much discussion on message boards all over the IWC. Of course, nearly everyone was jumping to conclusions about Hardy getting a third strike against him; even I was inspired to use my mad Photoshop skillz for evil over at one of the WrestleCrap Forums' many Photoshop threads:

So, as it turned out, Hardy was denied boarding his flight to North Carolina because he "appeared intoxicated". Yep. That's it. No drugs, no argument, no violence, no arrest. You know, I stupidly decided to hold off on sending this column in on time for once just to wait on what could've been a shocking, really awesome story. So how did this story end? Jeff took a later flight, and, according to Matt Hardy's blog, ate some fucking hibachi and sushi for dinner. Fantastic.

During TNA's No Surrender pay-per-view show on Sunday, someone made Tyler Durden proud when approximately four seconds of porn flashed on viewers' TV screens after they went black during the AJ Styles vs. Frank Trigg match. I'd joke about this match now being widely regarded as the best in TNA history, but I think most people still feel the exact opposite about it. I can only imagine that the following happened when the black-out went down:

PPV Feed Worker Guy #1: Aw, shit... hey, what was playing on this channel again?
PPV Feed Worker Guy #2: That, uh, TNA show.
PPV Guy #1: Right, right. *Accidentally grabs and plays One Night In China: Intense Fucking Close-Up Edition*
PPV Guy #2: NOOOOOO!!!

How tragic. To top this off, the show's crowd wasn't enjoying the match much, if at all, choosing to amuse themselves instead with "We Want Wrestling" and "Fire Russo" chants. TNA's James Earl Jones sound-alike then commented, "But... but... we... are wrestling!" Strangely enough, the big gimmick match of the show, the Ladder of Love match between Jay Lethal and Sonjay Dutt (which even included a SWERVE~!), completely stole the show with a stellar performance from both wrestlers. Imagine that.

What is WWE's problem lately with coming up with ring names for the wrestlers of tomorrow? In case you haven't noticed, not that I blame you, FCW's website roster is now reflecting WWE's ring name changes for several of their developmental wrestlers. Some of these names include Carson Oakley, Sebastian Slater, and Tyson Tarver. So let's just say, hypothetically speaking, that it's 2019 and most of our favorite wrestlers are long gone from WWE. How can the creative team be so cruel as to leave us with all these generic fucks with their black trunks and boots to carry the company? What happened to cool names like THE UNDERTAKER? What the hell does THE ALL-AMERICAN AMERICAN even mean?! On a sidenote, Jack Swagger totally looks like a scary mash-up of Gary Busey and Rocky Horror. Anyway, Adam Copeland got over using a standard geometric term, EDGE~! It's not hard to come up with a cool name; thousands of wrestling fans come up with them for use in e-feds. Quick, come up with your very own porn name
HERE! Mine would be Trixie Bustierre. I'm sure most of you caught the new ring name Nicky from the Spirit Squad got on Monday. For those of you who didn't, I'll give you a hint:


It's like Dolph Lundgren! It's kind of like Dirk Diggler! It's completely like epic failure~! Another small complaint I have is these new wrestlers' entrance themes. I'll use Primo Colón's song, "Parrandero" (which basically translates to "party animal"), as an example. I recently discovered that WWE didn't even bother to create the theme themselves, instead opting to buy it off of a stock music website. It's a 2-minute Reggaeton tune with spanish lyrics consisting of shit like "I'm a drunk, I'm a dog". Great job, guys; you sure know how to pick 'em. I refuse to give these generic wrestlers anything but my apathy until this porn name bullshit is resolved, especially after learning that the creative team is completely unmotivated and unexcited by the wave of new wrestlers. Why should any of us be excited, then?

Speaking of apathy, WWE road agent Arn Anderson was reportedly sleeping on and off during WWE's Raw house show in Texarkana, Arkansas. Man, this reminds me of the time when FGTBKJBHDSDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD--- oh, I'm sorry, I fell asleep on the keyboard. What I was trying to say is YTHHHHHGFGHGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Monday Night Football absolutely destroyed Raw this week, pulling in a 12.4 rating against Raw's 2.6. Usually, getting trounced by a football game in the fall is nothing new for WWE, but this 2.6 was said to have been met with variations of "Holy shit!" after most people backstage found out about it on the interwebs. I'm sure the ratings will reflect some kind of normalcy next time around, but in the meantime, "holy shit," indeed.

Heeeeeee's hot! Heeeeeee's spicy! He rapes greeeaaaaaat! Wait, what? Now, I only just got back to watching iMPACT~! after three or four weeks of being too lazy to change the channel to Spike TV, but from what I can gather from recaps, Curry Man is currently in love with Christy Hemme or something. Considering all the not-so-subtle hints TNA's been dropping about where Christy's cunt has been, this is definitely one chick I'd steer clear of. Think about it: her leg drop is called the Fire Crotch Guillotine, and is probably the only wrestling move in history that makes the ring mat itch. Gross. Also, her team, the Rock and Rave Infection, consists of a guy named Lance Rock, and a guy named Jimmy Rave; that makes our little redhead here Christy Infection, doesn't it? Again, GROSS. I'd guess this means we're a few broadcasts away from getting a segment where the Prince Justice Brotherhood take Curry Man to a doctor because he's complaining about a suddenly hotter and spicier-feeling dick. RAMPANT GALLOPING COCK ROT IS FUNNY, so says the TNA creative team... and no one else.

Speaking of Christy and crotch and whatnot, what exactly is the deal with TNA's blatant sexism lately? We got Jim Cornette joking about Traci Brooks' massive tits, saying she'll never drown, on 8/28. We got a BIMBO BRAWL~! between Roxxi Laveaux and Awesome Kong on 9/11. Classy! We got a bikini contest on the same broadcast as the Bimbo Brawl, where Mike Tenay commented, "The only thing missing is a stripper pole." We also got an "oral presentation" from The Beautiful People. See, it was super funny wording because you'd think they were going to fellate some guy but they actually just recited poetry and sang a song and... yeah, what-fucking-ever. For a company that's always putting the Knockouts over at the WWE Divas' expense, they sure are going out of their way to make sure WWE's got classier ladies by comparison. Hey, I'm in no way one of those crazy anti-men feminists, and I won't hesitate to call a nasty bitch what she is, but it's like TNA seems to be really trying to make sure people notice what they really think of the ladies. I guess that was to be expected from the company that brought us whores dancing in cages, though.

Wow, three TNA reports in a row? Look who graduated to moderate relevance this week! Much like the show itself, TNA's new iMPACT~! video game isn't exactly the groundbreaking alternative to the Smackdown vs. Raw series. It lacks referees, Petey Williams (despite plugging the Canadian Destroyer in the ads), blood, rope breaks, Gail Kim and Awesome Kong. Along with Jeff Jarrett's arsenal of genital molestation, Jarrett supposedly playing the Mike Tyson to TNA's Punch-Out, and the ridiculous Suicide story mode - which, I think, ends with you throwing down your controller and violently removing yourself from this mortal coil - you get Christy Hemme, who offers advice on how to improve your wrestling. Yes, seriously. IGN has given the game a rating of 6.4 with a label of "passable", while tallying the press average at about 6.5. But that's not to say that I don't appreciate TNA's efforts~! Personally, I like that guys like Samoa Joe and AJ Styles helped to make the game much more believable, 'cause the graphics are pretty sweet and the moves execute nicely. So, I guess rent before you buy, readers.

Since we're surprising ourselves here with all this TNA news, here's the quote of the week, from a returning Jeff Jarrett:

"Sting, this ain't WCW... this is T... N... A~!"

Really? Could've fooled me, what with the inclusion of Sting, Booker T, Sharmell, Scott Steiner, Kevin Nash, Jarrett himself, the poor man's Millionaires' Club vs. New Blood angle... The list goes on and on. I guess I'll end this half of Deadface here before TNA decides to do more newsworthy shit.

[The reanimated corpse of Robert Stack from Unsolved Mysteries is standing in an alley, wearing his signature trench coat and just basically looking like his usual scary self. That really fucking creepy Unsolved Mysteries theme is playing in the background.]

Stack: On September 1st, WWE wrestler Rey Mysterio made his grand return to Monday Night Raw with a clean bill of health despite the fact that fellow wrestler Kane had been assuring everyone that Mysterio was broken physically and mentally. No band-aid over the forehead, no bandaged ribs, nothing. Many wrestling fans have even pointed out that Mysterio has been, quote, "pwning" Kane since his return. Despite all this, Mr. Mysterio did admit that Kane had done something to him, though he didn't quite get into what. Tonight, a brave woman by the name of Catherine will attempt to solve this unsolved mystery.
Catherine: .....didn't you die like five years ago?
Stack: What's it to you?

[We cut to a reenactment of Rey Mysterio's return, where Kane is played by the guy who played Private Pyle in Full Metal Jacket, and Mysterio is played by Verne Troyer.]

Stack: Here, Rey Mysterio is seen getting the upper hand on Kane a mere few seconds after his return. The extent of his injuries at the hands of Kane are nonexistent.

["Mysterio" goes for the 619 on "Kane" and misses completely, due to his incredibly short stature. Nonetheless, "Kane" flies backwards like a bomb blew up in his face. Cut to Catherine sitting down with Kane.]

Kane... did you really kidnap and beat the shit out of Rey Mysterio?
Kane: Hahahaha... I sure did. I maimed his miserable little body and beat him within an inch of his life.
Catherine: Why the fuck is he running around like he just got back from vacationing in Hawaii, then?!

Stack: Why the fuck, indeed. A week later, resident punching bag Todd Grisham questions Mysterio about his ordeal, completely oblivious to the fact that Mysterio seemingly walked away from his beating without a scratch.

I... I guess I hadn't noticed that he was completely healthy. I mean, he's always getting beaten the hell up in like San Diego and stuff, and he's usually fine afterwards. I didn't really see this time around to be any different.

[A reenactment of Mysterio's interview plays, with Grisham being played by Topher Grace from That '70s Show.]

Hey, um, I'm getting paid for this, right? Okay. Rey, you happened to take some time off after... line?
"Mysterio": [Can't be heard 'cause he's far below the microphone. HAR HAR HAR SHORT PEOPLE ARE FUNNY.]

Stack: With very few answers to her questions, Catherine sought out the knowledge of The Undertaker, Kane's more popular, famous, and good-looking brother.

Would Kane ever lie about inflicting harm on a little Mexican man?
Undertaker: Honestly, Kane's done a whole lot worse in his career. I'm a bit disappointed that he's picking on little kids now.
Catherine: Alright, so what's with Kane asking for weeks whether Rey was alive or dead when we're now supposed to believe that Kane basically killed the little guy beforehand?
Undertaker: Hey, is this interview being taped?
Catherine: You can't tell from the dozens of cameras around us?
Undertaker: Aw, shit... um... Do you dare to stare into the eyes of the dragon? Um... REST... IN... PEAAAAAAACE!

Stack: Talking to The Undertaker proved to be, as Catherine had told the Unsolved Mysteries producers, "fucking useless." In the meantime, Rey Mysterio also began an alliance with small-faced ECW wrestler Evan Bourne, who has interjected himself into Kane's business for God knows what reasons.

What's the story between you and Mysterio, Evan?
Bourne: Um, h-hi.
Catherine: Hi.
Bourne: I'm Evan Bourne.
Catherine: Damn it, Bourne, cut the shit! What's the story between you and Mysterio?
Bourne: I... I'm not contractually obligated to answer that question... or something.
Catherine: Then answer this: how did you know where Kane's secret hideaway was?
Bourne: I thought it was the bathroom, I swear. There was a sign on the door that said "Not Kane's Secret Hideaway", but he could've changed that sign to anything by now!

Stack: We found Kane's hideaway approximately six minutes later, with a sign on its door that read "DEFINITELY Not Kane's Secret Hideaway". WWE Chairman Vincent Kennedy McMahon and a team of FBI investigators were already at the scene.

Vince! Wow, I thought you couldn't walk or something.
McMahon: You're talking to the guy who recovered from two torn quads in three weeks.
Catherine: Good to hear, but this is my investigation here, so if you and your indy wrestlers here would please step aside, I'd appreciate it.
McMahon: Excuse me? I'm Vincent Kennedy McMahon, damn it! NOBODY tells me to step aside!
Catherine: Come on, man! I'm trying to get to make sense out of this storyline, for my loyal fans and whatnot!
McMahon: Gentlemen, if you'd please escort Miss Perez out of here...
Catherine: Hey, cool, is that Randy Savage standing out in the hall?

[A reenactment depicts Vince and his indy wrestlers FBI investigators fleeing the room in pursuit of the Macho Man. McMahon is played by Ed O'Neill. Catherine, sadly played by Janeane Garofalo, finds nothing of value in Kane's hideaway and leaves, walking past Vince beating the shit out of Savage, played by Billy Mays. Robert Stack and his bad-ass trench coat walk out of Kane's hideaway, completely oblivious to the reenactment scene. How the fuck did he even get in there?]

Stack: At this point, Catherine's investigation is at a stand-still. She blames this solely on Evan Bourne, his hilariously microscopic face, and his reluctance to answer simple questions. If YOU or anyone you know has any information on what really happened to Rey Mysterio, contact Catherine via e-mail immediately.


Thanks for reading this week's Deadface Walking! Feel free to boost my happiness level just a tad by sending feedback via e-mail or
MySpace. Make sure to also check out all of TWF's great updates of the week over on the main page. Our hard-working staff deserves some love, damn it, so stop wanking to pictures of E.T. look-alike Tila Tequila and give them the love they need. Then e-mail them with cheesy love song lyrics. ALL I WANNA DO IS MAKE LOVE TO YOU, SAY YOU WILL, YOU WANT ME TOOOOO~! Something like that, only less frightening. And like your mom's nipples on a cold day, I'm out! I'm sorry, everyone's moms...

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.).