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The Dungeon
 
Lots of people can do observations. I mean, anybody whose dog doesn’t take them for walks can see. I observe that, if I had known about the Boogeyman’s talent for removing cancerous tumours, Kylie Minogue would probably now be giving me ass all the time.
 
Lots of people can be cynical. Take a look at TWF forums if you don’t believe me. Alternatively, watch an episode of Will and Grace, and write down the stuff that comes out of your mouth. See, anyone can be cynical.
  
I do not understand this. If Daivari and Angle already hated each other, how the HELL is it a double-cross! He hasn’t screwed Angle, he’s just done the obvious thing and sided against him! Bet Stephanie regrets hiring Rain Man now… although he is probably the brains of creative. He can count to five for a start…
 
And a fair few people can even do satire.  Imagine if the WWE did an American Idol…
 
Simon Cowell:- Next!
 
(Enter Lita).
 
Simon:- Okay… Lita, what are your talents.
 
(Lita pulls her trousers down, and removes a ping pong ball from her pocket)
 
Simon:- Okay! Okay… Jesus Christ okay.
 
Randy Jackson:- Dawg…
 
Paula Abdul:- Don’t be cruel. She’d be pretty with a little more make-up. And a few less steroids…
 
Randy:- Yo, bitch, y’all better quit yaw yappin up in the HISHOOOOOOSE! Y’all aint got no credibility since y’all did a song with a rapping cat, ya dig! ‘Sup wid dat, bitch? Racial stereotype , dawg! Man, you wack girl.
 
Simon:- So, what will you be singing for us?
 
Lita:- Like A Virgin.
 
(The judges piss themselves collectively. The laughter dies very suddenly when they realise she is serious.)
 
Simon:-… get out.
 
And that is why I wont be bothering with satire…
 

But NOBODY ON THIS FORUM HAS EVER ATTEMPTED TO DO WHAT I AM ABOUT TO. Yes, for the benefit of you kind, unkind, and plain fucking mean people… I am going to attempt to turn a non wrestling fan into a mark.
I roped a guy from my university in. Promised him a few bags of chips next time he got the munchies.
 
And so join me in this guest column, which shall now be known as THE DUNGEON. Because we like to stretch things here too. Namely jokes. Made up by Sean, Harry or James…
 
I decided I needed to show him an acclaimed match; one that had work rate, impact and  skill, but no major bumps or such, as that would be cheating. Anybody would mark out for Foley in HIAC, for example.
 
I decided upon Kurt Angle vs. Chris Benoit, Royal Rumble 03. Just to prove Benji Duncan wrong. (Nip down to the forum and check this shit out. It kicks all kinds of ass.) Benji, Todd Grisham is on the phone man, and he wants his fucking GIMMICK back.
 
I have used a bit of poetic license. I couldn’t write fast enough to take it down word for word…
 

   We start off the match with ‘You Suck’ chants being directed at Team Angle. Angle comes down to the ring wearing his gold, and all is well… until Michael Cole talks, at which point Paul cracks up and says, ‘wow, that guy sounds like he’s had his arse infiltrated by Heidenreich one too many times’. Well, no, he didn’t say that, but he made a comment about Michael Cole sounding gay. Told you I would use poetic license. Kurt, Shelton and Charlie all touch foreheads, and this is not going to plan at all. ‘Men in tights, and now they are kissing!’ The match hasn’t even started yet and I am seeing wrestling in a new light… one in which men in tights touching each other IS actually gay. I am tempted to turn it off, and give it up as a bad job, but I stick by my guns. I will convert this son of a bitch.
  
 Out comes Chris Benoit, and Paul says, ‘God, that guy has four shoulders!’. Never noticed that before, either, Chris‘ neck muscles are HUGE, where the hell does he inject that stuff… Hey, who the hell is converting who here! Back on task, Chris rolls into the ring, and… Charlie Hass pushes him. Like a girl.
Paul says, ‘What the hell is that! Punch him, you fucking queer!’, I die a little inside, and upon questioning, admit that Charlie Haas could have punched him, as the bell hadn’t rung at this point. Charlie, you may not have punched Benoit, but you punched me right in the soul.
 
   It is with squinted eyes I continue to watch one of my favourite matches, as three tiny referees eject two muscular wrestlers and Paul says,  ‘Okay, why don’t the ref’s wrestle if they are as tough as the wrestlers? This is bollocks.’ Tim White rolls in his grave… or he would do if he could actually reach it. If these skits continue for much longer, I’ll give the guy a hand. From the top of a very large building. With a very large gun… The bell rings, and we are off. Maybe now I can STOP agreeing with Paul. Jesus, it’s hard to suspend disbelief with Mr Lateral Thinking sat beside you.
 
 Major intensity here, as they lock up, everything looks very technically sound. Angle rolls out of the ring to buy a bit of time, and just as I think things could start to look up, Cole starts talking about a ‘scuttlebutt’. Thank you Cole, you are ruining my life. Paul laughs, calls Cole an arse, the intensity in the room is instantly lost.
 
   It is at this point I realise that I might as well be serving ham sandwiches at a Jewish wedding. (Sorry Witzdude). We have to face facts, as wrestling fans, the ability to suspend  disbelief is easy. But to some, it just doesn’t come as easy. The first person I asked to watch a match with me turned me down, and said, ‘now go away. I’m watching the X Files.’  And that is what we have to put up with on a daily basis, people. Prejudice. Blue isn’t the new black, wrestling fans are.
 
   Paul doesn’t seem to be seeing the magic in the technical wrestling, saying it is ‘just two men flailing around on the mat’ and begins to ask why they don’t just punch each other in the nose, when Kurt Angle makes the save, by throwing Chris shoulder first through the turnbuckles and into the ring-post. Paul actually winces, one point for wrestling.
   
   The guys are stiffing each other now. Inevitable gay joke when I use that phrase in front of Paul. Then he says, ‘when they bounce each other against the ropes… why don’t they just stop running?’ Because THIS ISN’T SUPPOSED TO BE REAL, YOU COCK MUFFIN! Instead I say something about momentum… and then Chris Benoit hit’s the SWEETEST DDT ever seen onto the ring apron, and Paul shuts the hell up. Deny that, bitch. Angle’s nose is fucked. Paul wants to say that he didn’t make contact, but they show a replay that shows he clearly did, and Paul wishes he had a Socko to shut him up, and somebody stood waiting with a towel to hide his shame. Well, there is always some daft twat with a towel for Mae Young!
 
   Paul seems to be hooked now. Kurt Angle hit’s a great looking belly to belly and throws Chris from the ring. It’s looking good now. I’m breathing sigh’s of relief. Kurt is DOMINATING now, Paul is smiling, I’m smiling, the job very may well be done! He even stifles a giggle when Tazz refers to Kurt as Kurt Benoit, and gasps when they hit a double stiff double clothesline. Only one thing holding me back now, and his name is Michael Cole. I HATE you, Cole. Paul says, ‘Why does he keep talking? The guy sounds like Matthew Perry on Helium’. I think to myself, ‘Let Sean Carless tell you the carnivore story!’, but said nothing.
 
  Chris Benoit unearths about half an ounce of nose juice into the ring, and Paul does a Grisham on me, questioning if it is fake, claiming, ‘nobody has that much crap up their nose’. Well, I wouldn’t say nobody. I’ll show him a Triple H match next week, and let him judge. Chris goes up to the top rope, Kurt does his Spiderman run up the ropes, Paul says, ‘FUCK’, and I know I have him now.
 
   Chris gets Kurt in the Cross-face, and Cole squeals, ‘he’s a finger away from the bottom ropes!’. Paul says, ‘you are one penis away from being a woman.’ Well, yeeeeees, Paul. We all are. Unless we are women. I start to think that wrestling fans are cooler than non-wrestling fans, and decide to get some-one wittier next time. This is like having a conversation with Canadian Bacon.
 
   And this is the point where Chris Benoit hit’s the best German suplex I have ever seen, Kurt flips ALL THE WAY OVER, and Paul marks out! Fuck yes, this match is tried and tested people. This shit works. It doesn’t get much better. Paul is actually really sat on the edge of his seat, saying HOLY SHIT, and now Benoit is flying fourteen feet across the ring. And I have done it. Mission fucking complete. I didn’t think it would be this easy, but Paul is actually loving it. All except Michael fucking Cole. DIE COLE, DIE A PAINFUL DEATH.
 
   The ankle lock is applied, Angle leg scissors, Benoit taps, and Team Angle come out. I was worried about this. Charlie Haas helps Kurt out of the ring, getting… a good feel of Angle’s ass. I actually have to show Paul a picture of Jackie Gayda to convince him that Charlie is straight, and even then he decides that it is all a huge cover up, and her name is the clue. DAMN YOUR STUPID NAME AND MY FRIENDS IMMATURITY! GO TO HELL!… or TNA, either way you will probably see Jeff Jarrett.
 
And  we have success people! You can convert a non-fan into a mark by showing him an Angle-Benoit match, as long as you mute the sound, fast forward over Charlie Haas, and suspend disbelief. Oh, and as long as Michael Cole doesn’t exist. Let’s hope for the future non-existence of Cole. Let’s hope he does a Jerry Lawler, and leaves because the WWE took his partner off the payroll.
We miss you Heidenreich.
 
 This has been The Dungeon, you have been kissing my proverbial ass, and I have been FUCKING great.

Pictures and logos 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.).