By Sean Carless
Anyway, onto the show!
The PPV opens up with Stone Cold Steve Austin. Austin cuts a by the numbers promo on how he's here to enjoy the matches, and states he'll do so from his private box. (not Debra).
Chris Benoit, Rhyno & Spanky Vs. John Cena, Chuck Palumbo & Johnny Stamboli:
This is quite the transition for old Chuck Palumbo. One year ago, he was ready to trade man vows with his "life partner" Mr. Ass (and boy did that name suddenly make a WHOLE LOT more sense) and this year, he's putting bombs under people's cars and running completely "legitimate businesses". Strange world.
Anyway, what a waste of Chris Benoit and John Cena this was. It's hard to believe that these two guys were main-eventing the last couple of months, and now they're stuck working with fucking Johnny Stamboli. Anyway, this really was just your typical TV Match with nothing really of note taking place; and was also a very short match to boot, ultimately won by Cena & F.B.I. when Spanky was pinned after a "kiss of death" double team legdrop by Stamboli & Palumbo. And a more apropos name for a finish I cannot recall. You know when you're counting the lights for fucking Johnny the Bull that maybe it's time to pack it in.
Winners: John Cena & The F.B.I.; Hey, am I the only one who would find it hilarious that if in lieu of the F.B.I.'s mob gimmick, WWE brought in RICO to feud with them? Haha. Could I make any more terrible mafia puns? YOU BET I COULD.
-Meanwhile, Steve Austin is in the private box, when he's confronted by Eric Bischoff, and hilarity ensues. And by "hilarity" I mean the complete dictionary opposite of the word. Unfortunately, these skits would continue to happen on and off all evening. Normally, I wouldn't mind a TV skit like this, but this shit is costing me 35 dollars.... thirty five dollars that could buy a lot of porn, err, I mean, umm, groceries? Ya, that's right. Anyway, Austin offers to share his hotdog with Bisch, then douses him in beer while toasting him. Your WWE dollars at work ladies and gentlemen!
La Résistance Vs. Canadian Club (foot that is) AKA Scott Steiner & Test:
This is the big PPV debut of La Résistance. And I still don't know what it is that Grenier and Dupree are supposed to be "resisting". Although, since they are French, there's a pretty good chance it's basic personal hygiene. Oh, I kid the French. I love your women, your wine, and your, umm, fries. And often all at the same time. Flying too close to the sun on Wings of Pastrami~! (Those who watch Seinfeld will know what I mean. While the rest of you, well, I'm sure you've already skipped ahead already. Good thinking.).
Anyway, nothing too horrendous here, as Scott Steiner for once seems to be wearing his working boots tonight (albeit cushioned with an orthopedic sole.) Anyway, the Green-Frogs end up winning, after miscommunication is aFOOT...LITERALLY... when Test accidentally hits the "Aboot" on Scott, allowing La Rez to utilize a double spinebuster on Steiner to pick up the win, and bring honor to France!... instead of just submitting during instructions like you'd think they would. Oh well.
After the match, they tease Stacy's sympathy for Steiner, and this apparently makes Test's back-bacon boil. Good. Stacy can do a lot better than a misogynistic steroid abuser. Thank God she found Scott Steiner to take her away from that!
Winners: La Résistance. The "resisting" however ends when Pat Patterson feels randy (Not Orton. Although, it could be. He did take a shining once to his Uncle Barry after all.).
-Backstage, Mr. America and The Hurricane have a skit, where they play up on not really being their alter egos. Although, when you call yourself Hurricane HELMS, it tends to lessen the mystery somewhat. (Hey, there was a reason why Superman wasn't known as "Superman Kent"...).
-Eddie Guerrero is interviewed backstage. He puts over the fact that he had to find a new partner since Chavito went down, and he's happy it's Tajiri. Mostly because those baggy pants of his make shoplifting a WHOLE LOT easier. OK, he didn't say that. But he should have. Although, who am I to question the WWE creative team? How many episodes of fucking Two And A Half Men have I wrote?
- Kurt Angle comeback video airs. Holy shit, this dude is a fucking terminator. Now if only I could convince him Stephanie's real name is Sara Connor. If only.
Eddie Guerrero & Tajiri Vs. (C) Bacardi & Cola (Shelton Benjamin & Charlie Haas) in a Ladder match for WWE Tag team Championship.
Tajiri was announced as Eddie's new partner in the absence of Chavito, and the two gelled pretty decently for a first time team. I tried racking my brain trying to figure out just what a Mexican and a Japanese guy would ever have in common; and eventually figured, when you're picking lettuce in a field, who better to assist you than a man whose martial arts training provides you with super fast reflexes? If he can dispatch like 20 ninjas at once (the Ricky Steamboat factor) you just watch how fast he launches those lettuce heads into the back of a pickup truck. Ignorant stereotyping FTW! Anyway, both teams worked really hard here, and managed to put on a good show with some solid wrestling, sprinkled with a few crazy ladder high spots, including Charlie Haas taking a really mean bump to the floor. Any closer there and brother Russ would have been helping the poor bastard cross the fucking river styx right now.
Anyway, the end came when Tajiri blew his mist into the face of Shelton (as if wrestling needed anymore gay symbolism) directly through the rungs of the Ladder, allowing Eddie to secure the belts and crown new Tag team Champions! Great match, and easily the best of the night so far.
Winners and new champions: Eddie Guerrero & and honorary Guerrero, Tajiri! He Ries, He Cheats, He Stears!
- Backstage, Chris Jericho, talks about how he's going to become Intercontinental champion tonight when he's interrupted by Roddy Piper. The two trade barbs, with Jericho surprisingly making Piper look like an amateur. Although, in Piper's defense, who knew how many Chris Jerichos he was actually seeing here, so I'll cut him some slack....
-Back in the skybox, Austin chastises Bischoff on the faggoty-assed way he drinks a beer. Silly Austin. If he had done his homework, he'd learn that the best way to loosen Bischoff up in a drinking establishment is to go down on his wife while he jerks off in the corner. Maybe he'll keep that in mind for the next time.
Intercontinental Title Battle Royal;
Ah, the good old Intercontinental Title; not seen since HHH took a monster shit on it last October. Anyway, Pat Patterson comes out to present the Intercontinental belt to the winner of this battle royal, coming out to Fabulous Moolah's theme as opposed to "Real American" which he had previously used during the non-Hogan-friendly times in the WWE. And you know what? It's a good thing too, because clearly it'd be EMBARRASSING for an old broken down man, living off his past glories, and really unable to physically cut it in the ring anymore, to actually come down to that song. Oh Wait.
Anyway the cool thing here is that this match features a slew of RAW's former Intercontinental Champions (well, except HBK and Nash, cause the KLIQ are MAIN EVENT, baby!). Some of the former champions here include: Christian, Y2J, Lance Storm, a rechristened Val Venis, Goldust, RVD, Kane, Test and... oh ya, BOOKER T. You remember Book's HISTORIC intercontinental Title reign don't you? You don't? Well, maybe all his Title matches took place in Rio De Janeiro? That place always seems to get the best matches! *ahem*.
Lance Storm gets tossed out by Kane, who is then eliminated by everyone else in the ring. Kane then goes berserk, choke-slamming everyone including his partner in "Roasted Potatoes" RVD. Huh. Maybe the smell of smoke coming from Rob's dressing room brings back bad childhood memories for the Big Red Machine? I don't know.
Anyhoo, Booker eliminates Test, Goldust dumps Venis, and Jericho pitches out RVD. RVD then returns to the locker room, smokes a bowl, and asks Kane what time the PPV starts tonight. Anyway, the final four end up being Goldust, Booker T., Y2J and Christian. Booker throws his partner Goldust out, and Goldust just smiles and gives him the "Ohh you" look. Of course I don't blame Book for dumping him though. If I was in this battle royal, I'd want the dude with the perma-erection gone as fast as possible too....
Now down to three, and in the spot of the night, Christian eliminates Jericho, after Y2J went for the Lionsault, and Christian flipped him over as he sprung on the middle rope. At this point, this just leaves us with Booker & Christian. Anyway, the Ref gets bumped (yes in a Battle Royal) and Booker eliminates Christian to seemingly win the title,...but nuh-huh, 'cause they channel the Bret Hart and Steve Austin's '97 Rumble finish, as Christian re-enters, clocks Book with the IC Title, and dumps him in the referee's sight to REALLY win the title in a sportz entertainment finish. Ah, poor Booker. At least he'll always have the memories of his completely imaginary title reign to fall back on.
Winner and Intercontinental Champion: Christian; well, until Hunter decides to randomly pin whoever's champion and "put over" the belt again by never mentioning it ever again.
-Backstage, Sable tries to play mind games with Torrie Wilson, but that's kinda like arm wrestling a quadriplegic. Sable tries to intimidate Torrie by telling her that she's never lost a bikini contest before. YA, TORRIE. PAY YOUR DUES. You just can't walk off the street being all blond and fake titted and expect to get a push in this company despite not really having anything else to fall back on! Ahem.
Torrie Wilson Vs. Sable, Bikini contest! (HEY! Haven't I already seen both of these women naked?)
Ah Yes, the dreaded Bikini contest. A competition that requires the soundest of minds and the most acute athletic timing.
An off-key Lillian Garcia sings Torrie to the ring in a totally cornball entrance. Sable then comes out next and the shit is on. And I almost mean this literally.
Anyway, Tazz is your MC for the event. Strange, considering Lawler would clearly be more adept at the job. But then again, clearly, it's easier to secretly masturbate behind your desk, then in front of a crowd. I learned this the hard way. Most awkward talent show I ever attended. ANYWAY. Sable goes first, and gets a fairly decent pop once she drops her robe. Torrie then goes next, wearing the old same boxy bikini she always does, and even elicits some boo's from the crowd (the smart fans are sick of being force-fed Torrie as the end-all Woman all of the time.). Torrie then ends up stripping down to a thong and a barely there bikini top, but even this doesn't elicit much a reaction from the crowd, but you know, that might be because EVERYONE HAS SEEN HER FUCKING NAKED. Regardless, as is accustomed with "Torrieberg" (Kidman is the only one she lays down for seemingly) Tazz doesn't even bother asking the crowd the winner, and just declares Torrie the victor. ....And oh yeah, Torrie kisses Sable after the "contest". BY GAWD, KING! THEY'RE BIG OLD DYKES! Anyway, normally I get off on two chicks going at it, but there was just something missing here...oh ya, pudding and monster dildos. That's it. Get on the ball, WWE.
Winner: Torrie Wilson (SURPRISE~!). Now if you don't mind, while I still have these women in mind, I think I'll take a page out of Tazz's book and go choke something out. Hey! Maybe that's the reason he always wore a towel on his head? It'd definitely come in handy for times like this!
-Back to the box. Bischoff is bombed and queasy. So Austin gives him a hot pickle. And despite that sounding like something kinky that involves you potentially shitting on your girlfriend's chest, in this case, it's literally a hot pickle. Bischoff then chokes and looks ill. You and me both, buddy.
-In the back, Piper laments over his argument with Jericho earlier with Sean O'Haire. Vince comes in and puts over his choice of Piper to unmask and PROVE that yes, the strange orange man with a peroxide stained walrus-mustache billowing from his mask is indeed Hulk Hogan. Holy shit. Clearly, F. Lee Bailey should have chosen Vince to be on the OJ Simpson jury. OJ would've been hitting the links by the weekend.
Mr. America w/ Zach Gowen w/o leg vs. Roddy Piper w/ Sean O'Haire w/o conscience.
If you thought that you knew what complete rockbottom looked like, allow to me introduce you to my friend. This match actually made the infamously bad Piper/Hogan 'Age in a Cage' 1997 match look like Flair/Steamboat in fucking comparison. I don't know, maybe it was because the only guy who actually looked like he belonged in the ring (O'Haire) was just standing on the floor with his thumb up his ass.
Anyway, despite the fact that copious drug use is SUPPOSED to make you thinner, Piper still looked bloated (and he was wearing black... isn't that supposed to be slimming?). At one point, Zach Gowen, who could no doubt teach Hulk something about really dropping legs, prevents the evil Mr. McMahon from getting involved, which allows Hogan to hit Piper with a pipe (heh, heh. live by the pipe, die by the pipe) and drop the leg (a legitimate one...sorry, Zach) to get the "shocking" pin... 20 fucking years after anyone gives a shit.
Winner: Mr. America. Hey, maybe Sean O'Haire needs to tell Roddy something "he doesn't already know"...namely, please never take you're shirt off again. Thanks.
-Backstage, HHH's "ex-wife" Stephanie (wink*wink) shows concern, and tells him to be CAREFUL against Nash tonight. Huh? Well, actually, I guess there is a chance Nash could accidentally fall on you while tearing his quads....
(C) HHH vs. Kevin Nash: World Heavyweight Title at stake!
TONIGHT, THE KLIQ EXPLODES! Although not literally as I had originally hoped. Anyway, this one didn't disappoint, and by that I mean it sucked as much as I thought it would. Hey! Nash is yelling, so he obviously means business! Anyway, they get rid of HBK and Flair from the get go so Flair (whose hometown this is) doesn't steal any of the heat from THIS EPIC AND NOT AT ALL MANUFACTURED RIVALRY!
If you saw Royal Rumble, then you saw this EXACT match; and if you saw that match, then you no doubt banged your head on your coffee table until you drew blood. The only difference here is that they've replaced one ploddingly slow motherfucker (Steiner) with another (Nash.) With that said, HHH & Nash do the "Blarrggh angry brawl" until Nash gets the advantage, causing a panicked HHH to manhandle referee Earl Hebner until Baby Earl called for the DQ.
After the match, Nash gets his "Heat" back by powerbombing HHH through the RAW table as Hugo Saminovich is seen sitting down at ringside, unscathed for once, wiping the worried sweat from his sizeable Spanish forehead. Anyway, the shmazz here can only mean ONE THING: REMATCH. This rivalry is SO INTENSE, no ring can hold these men!!!!! Meh. Rumors actually persist that the rematch will be a HELL (dramatic pause) IN A CELL. However, I'm convinced that Nash is only capable of Heck in a Cell at this stage. (He makes Mr. Glass from Unbreakable look like fucking Mick Foley...)
Winner: Not us, that's for sure.
Trish Stratus vs. Victoria vs. (C) Jazz Vs. Jacqueline: This was a four-way for the Women's title;
Jazz is now managed by Theodore Long who has taken it upon himself to help Jazz in her quest to "not be held down by the man." But you know, considering Jazz's face, I find it hard to believe any man would want to do that......
Anyway, they might as well have threw a big shirt on Jackie that read "PIN ME" in huge letters, because it was fairly obvious from the get go who'd be taking the fall here. Anyway, not a bad match, but nothing to write home about. One dangerous spot saw Trish take a particularly nasty spill over the ropes, after having her "Stratusfaction" countered by Victoria... but thanks to her dual airbags she was spared any serious injury. Anyway, with both Trish and Victoria "predisposed", Jazz finishes Jacqueline (SURPRISE~!) with a vicious DDT to retain her title. Blee Dat.
Winner and still champion, Jazz.
Main Event, (C) Brock Lesnar Vs. Big Show; Stretcher match for WWE Title.
We finally find out the stips here, as basically you have to incapacitate your opponent, then place him on the stretcher and dump him over a white line. You know, just like they do with patients in HMO's across the country.
Anyway, it took the crowd a while to get into this one, most likely due to the Nash/HHH snorefest that sucked all the heat out of the arena like opening an airlock door in outer space. However, thankfully, Brock's intensity and hard-work eventually won them over. Anyway, this was actually the best match these two have had with each other thus far. At one point, Mysterio got involved, trying to seek revenge for Show swinging him into the ringpost while tied to a gurney (I SO have to try that next time I'm visiting the hospital), however, Show quickly squashed him. This distraction though allowed Brock to get a Forklift (good thing someone just left that back there!...) and drive it to the ring. Brock then hits a wicked clothesline off the forklift, followed by an F-5, before rolling him onto the lift. Lesnar then wins the match after pressing Show about 10 feet in the air, and driving the lift with Show elevated over the line. Funny, I always get fired whenever the foremen catches me driving with a lifeless body on a lift. What's Brock's secret? Good match.
Winner and still champion: Brock Lesnar, the figurative and literal fork-lift that carried Big Show to a great performance. (Hard) Hat's off to him.
Final Thoughts: This PPV was not good by any means; however it certainly was not as bad as it could have been. My main problem is with booking TV angles on a Pay-per-view broadcast, when a PPV should only contain extended matches. TV is for building Storylines and PPV is for the payoff. Hey, look at me! I sound like I know what I'm talking about! Still though, if I had to (and I guess I do), I'll give it a thumbs up. But Hogan vs. Piper will haunt my dreams forever. Sure they didn't blow any spots, but maybe if they had, they might have accidentally delivered an entertaining move. Dear lord.
THE TWF "MENTAL WELLNESS TEST!"
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.).