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Hey there Fuckies, I'm your venerable host Sean Carless, and this is One Night Stand. The third, actually. Which normally, I'd think would make this a "relationship", but considering what WWE's done to ECW this past year, I'm opting to rechristen this Pay-per-view "Completely Loveless Marriage" instead. Makes sense to me.
First off, with our regular recapmeister James Walker apparently disappearing into the Bermuda Triangle, I somehow hoped for an EARLY FESTIVUS MIRACLE, and somehow, someway, a completed Rant would end up in my inbox one way or the other. Unfortunately though, days have past, no one gives a shit anymore, and my email inbox is collecting more dust and cobwebs than your grandparents genitals. In fact, the only thing I've seen in 4 days is a myriad of promises to enlarge my penis in 3 easy steps.  And once they get it down to one, I'll probably drop them a line. Anyhoo... this takes us to right now.  The One Night Stand Recapitation. And ultimately, it, like the ugliest stripper in the club, has somehow unfortunately landed in my lap. And as such, I shall now "recap" it... despite WWE hijacking the best
received PPV of the last two consecutive years, to bump out those pesky "energetic fans" and "5 star matches" so we could get our new "extreme" (Boredom?) with guys like MARK HENRY, VINCE MCMAHON & GREAT KHALI all headlining to a certain extent. Dear God. And to boot, WWE has decided to feature an ENTIRE card of gimmick matches. Because that always worked so well for WCW. It's just a shame they couldn't find fucking Zeus to throw in a triple cage with Khali , Umaga and 10 other swollen dudes to do a simultaneous job to John Cena & Lashley. Oh well. But hey, I'd be lying if I said I didn't still wish this was still an entirely ECW-centric pay-per-view. Even if it had to still be over-gimmicked. I mean, just imagine how convincing and realistic a casket match Mike Awesome would be capable of putting on! *Ahem*. Chances are I just wanted to use that joke.
So, anyway, here we are. And in honor of new ECW, I am vowing to put the least amount of effort into this Rant possible. And it's being done entirely as a LESSON to WWE, and not say, because I had no real notes, no time to prepare and am completely apathetic. Not even.
We are LIVE from the EXTREME capital of the world, Jacksonville Florida! Home of the most EXTREME fans on the planet... guaranteed to give to most EXTREME controlled reactions to EXTREMELY not-terrible match-ups like Mark Henry vs. Kane, without any EXTREME expectations like "quality". EC-DUB! EC-DUB! EC-DUB!
Your hosts are of course the same 6 schmoes we see every month. Not included within however is Hugo & Carlos, who were apparently turfed once this whole Tri-branded business began. And this was after breaking the fall of every asshole and his brother for the last 10 years straight, too. Is there no loyalty? Poor bastards. Maybe someone finally told them that their headsets haven't been plugged in for the last decade? I don't know. All I do know is I picture them walking down the side of a highway, dejected, holding the top part of a table as the sad Hulk music plays. Terrible.
Onto the show~!
As Orton makes his entrance, we get a video  of Orton's recent concussion inducing hijinx. And thank god he added the soccer kick to his repertoire is all I can say, because I doubt the vaunted CHINLOCK would be capable of such damage. Actually, I take that back. I get a concussion every time Orton wrestles, because I usually bang my own head on the table thanks to his completely tedious pace. I stand corrected.
Out next comes RVD, showing no effect of the concussion, but hey, that's to be expected. You're not exactly talking about a dude who's not used to walking around in a complete daze with a glassy look in his eye.  The only difference is Orton's version of that "experience" doesn't involve Rob first meeting somebody in a darkened alley out the back of their Volkswagen van. Glad I could clear that up.
The match is now underway, and RVD gets the immediate advantage as he does the R-V-D gesture, kicking Orton in the head before he gets the "Dam" in. I so have to try that next time I'm introducing myself to somebody. Anyway, RVD returns the concussion favor by kicking Randy Orton in the head several times, which is great strategy. What's not so great, is what happens next: going for flippy shit in a match where the idea is to batter your opponent into unconsciousness. I'd so love to try and use Rob's offense in real life fights. "LAY THERE STILL NOW, SO I CAN ROLL ON TOP OF YOU!" It'd be awesome. Anyway, Orton eventually gets the advantage after a straight shot to Rob's head which eventually causes him to lose his balance and fall off the top rope as he was attempting the Five-star Frogsplash. And speaking of which, how awkward does it have to be for the dude out there with the One Star Frogsplash? He might as well pack it in.
That said, Orton then goes to work on Rob's head, as I get the visual from his point of view that Rob's head has transformed into a hotel lamp, and this compels him to smash it. Anyway, Orton tries to Roll RVD (HIYO) onto the stretcher, but Rob falls off. RVD eventually rallies briefly, with a kick (SURPRISE~!), but back inside, Orton catches him with a great powerslam as RVD went for Rolling (papers?) Thunder. RVD however rallies one more time, and knocks Orton to the floor. RVD then goes for a Suicide Dive...but misses and lands violently on the stretcher himself. Ouch. Hey, maybe they should rename it the "Attempted Suicide dive"? I mean, the motherfucker's still alive right? What kind of message does this send to the kids? FINISH WHAT YOU START, MISTER.
Anyhoo, Orton, puts Rob on the stretcher, and begins to roll him to possibly dump his lifeless body over the white line (you know, the same way the U.S. health care system works) but Rob awakens, kicks Orton, and quickly puts him on the stretcher and rolls him over the line to win the match! SWERVE~! That sure showed us Smark fans who thought that Rob was actually losing his final match! VINCE SURE STUCK IT TO US... by actually putting a guy over we all wanted to win. I feel humbled. Truly.
After the match, Orton snaps and attacks RVD, laying him out on the "concrete floor", so sayeth JR, with a sick DDT. It's funny how concrete looks so much like a big rubber mat to everyone else. Huh. It's no wonder Tornadoes wreak the havoc they do in the south. Maybe if they stopped making house foundations out of this rubber concrete, they might hold up a little better! [/got nothing]. Oh, ya, RVD is put on a stretcher, and presumably loaded into the Cheech and Chong Van with a siren on top. Good bye, Rob. Thanks for the memories... that thanks to also following your lifestyle choices, I can no longer remember for more than a few weeks at a time. You'll be missed. Wait. what were we talking about?
Winner: RVD! Who if all goes well will at least get some medical marijuana out of this whole "concussion" deal. It's all a clever ruse! But hey, at least the dude (Duuuuuuuuuuude) is getting a well deserved vacation. Although, I can't picture Rob transitioning into normal life very well. I bet  the real-life Mrs. Szatkowski only takes about 15 running monkey flips in the living room before she INSISTS Rob get his (inordinately sweaty) ass back to work.
-Backstage, Vince is with Shane. He has a feeling something really bad is going to happen tonight. Hey you booked the card! Oh-- he meant, never mind. He says that he feels he's being eaten up with a slow cancer. (Vince vs. Cancer at Wrestlemania 24! Book it! Blood Cell in a Cell! Or something!). Anyway, I have no idea what this "slow eating cancer is" but I'm sure HHH and Steph do. When I heard him say it, I instantly got the visual of Steph and HHH high fiving each other, realizing that the Uranium pillow they bought Vince for Xmas is finally paying dividends and soon the company will be ALL THEIRS! Mwhahahaha! You know, before going bankrupt in under 2 years.
-Hey, look , there's the *Official* WWE NASCAR! That's just what the business needs to shake that whole Redneck image! I think. Let me MULLET over. No, I was right.
CM Punk , Tommy Dreamer & The Sandman vs. The New Breed: Elijah Burke, Marcus Cor Von & Matt Striker: TABLES MATCH.
Honestly, I don't know which team here makes less sense. The Straight-Edge dude hanging out of with the chain-smoking alcoholic or a preppy white guy hanging out with two intimidating bruthas. There's a reason you don't ever see your Biology teacher rollin' with the Crips or the Bloods. Just saying. Anyway, speaking of ridiculous, before we get under way, Joey Styles takes it upon himself to explain to us how CM Punk joined the New Breed only to infiltrate their ranks and purposely SABOTAGE them from within... before re-joining the Originals.  That's a pretty solid plan. Until you realize that he was only a member of the group for like one fucking week. Clearly, CM Punk should think about a job as an undercover cop with his success rate. It just better not be narcotics division, because I suspect that cover would be blown in about 5 minutes. "YOU WANT A REAL ADDICTION? TRY COMPETITION."
Oh, just in case you were wondering, this match only ends when just one member of a team goes through a table. The match starts off slow, but the crowd wakes up when Tommy spikes Matt Striker with a bulldog that he sells with a headstand which was awesome. Almost as awesome as Joey Styles actually having the restraint to not tell us that Matt was a "disgraced New York City School Teacher" for once. His career cut short for... something? I'm guessing maybe never wearing pants with his sweater vest. They frown on teachers practically freeballing it for whatever reason. Tommy Dreamer and CM Punk then shove each other, and Dreamer says "GET THE TABLES" as Punk says "Why the fuck do I have to be D-Von?". Ok, he didn't say that. But he should have. Maybe Tommy gets to be Bubba because he seems to have put on about 40 pounds in one week? Seriously. Tommy has to be wearing the smallest fucking T-shirt in recorded human history. He's one step away from being Philip Seymour Hoffman in Boogie Nights here. HIS BODY IS JUST TOO EXTREME FOR COMFORTABLY FITTING CLOTHES. Anyway, with the tables in the ring, Striker almost goes through, but Burke & Cor Von save him. Sandman, who looks like he's been locked in a Turkish Bathhouse for 6 weeks straight, goes up for a the Heinekenrana on Striker from there, but he gets pushed off to the floor. Seriously, Sandman looked like shit here. He looks like he went to the hospital to give blood and the nurse forgot to ever take the intravenous needle out. Dear god. Anyway, from there, The Marquis de Cor Von gives Punk an Alpha Bomb, before going back to shouldertacking those in 1700's France who don't appreciate his pornographic sadomasochistic writings. The New Breed then set up the table, to presumably drive Punk through it, but Sandman, now weighing 125 pounds, makes the save by caning Cor Von, while Dreamer actually PILEDRIVES Burke. Yes, a piledriver. I guess he missed the memo. Or maybe it's ok to use it when WWE Agents don't care if you die with it. I don't know. Punk then puts Striker on the top for a superplex, and Dreamer puts Burke on the table, and Punk superplexes Striker through Burke and the table to pick up the win. PEPSI FOR EVERYONE. Except Sandman. He needs a blood transfusion. And stat.
Winners: ECW Kinda/sorta Originals.
-Backstage, Orton confronts Edge. Thanks to the Draft, Edge could be NEXT. But hey, considering Orton's military past, I'd figure he'd go into hiding again until the draft was over. GET IT? HE WENT AWOL. Boy am I drunk. Oh, and Orton's match wrapped up like a half hour ago, why isn't he wearing pants? Who wanders around aimlessly in their underwear all day? Besides me?
Matt & Jeff Hardy (C) vs. Bacardi & Cola (Haas & Benjamin): Ladder Match for World Tag Team Titles.
YES. This is actually the match that convinced me to buy this Pay-per-view in the first place. And by "buy", I mean, sent in a check that I completely and totally *accidentally* forgot to sign. That's right.
Anyway, this is The World's Greatest Tag Team's big chance to get back on track. And they better because if WWE hyperbole is to be believed, they are the GREATEST TAG TEAM IN THE WORLD. A world that Vince McMahon thinks has no discernable cities in other countries, hence why every foreign wrestler has no hometown and simply represents their entire country, but the World nonetheless. It's not their fault that Vince McMahon's "World" is just the United States floating in the middle of a blue ball. What can you do?
We are now underway, and the ladder comes into play right away when The Hardys sandwich both Haas & Benjamin between the ladder and deliver Poetry in Motion. And much like I did with Backlash, I have written a new *really awesome* Haiku commemorating the maneuver:
Charlie Haas is trapped
So is Shelton Benjamin
Here comes a Hardy
Don't try this at home kids. Haiku's take YEARS to master.
Anyway, Haas & Benjamin regain the advantage by sling-shotting Jeff into the ladder.... The "100 pound" ladder as frequently reported by one Jerry Lawler. And if that's indeed true, they really need to sign this guy I know who works at Home Depot, because I once saw the dude carry like 4 at once to his truck. Look out Mark Henry, this guy will be nonsensically tearing thick books in half for no reason before you know it.
From there, the Hardys double team Benjamin and hip toss him onto a ladder, and then soon after, they launch Haas like a Rocket Launcher off the top rope stomach first onto the ladder. Normally, I'd say a rocket Charlie Haas wouldn't do much damage, but after the way Haas leveled Lillian like Hiroshima last year, I'm not so sure. Soon after, The Hardys break out the BIG LADDERS. YES. Now Charlie can actually climb up and change the arena lights instead of just counting them after EVERY match the poor guy is ever in. And speaking of Haas, the Hardys wedge the ladder between the apron and the barricade then suplex Haas belly first onto the ladder. He sells like his life depends on it. Or maybe his job. It's just then I picture Stephanie & Johnny Ace pointing and making the throat slash gesture behind the curtain as Ace holds a lighter under his contract. Maybe I need to stop thinking about these things....
Craziest spot of the match happens next when Benjamin gets back body dropped from the ring onto the propped up a ladder and just bounces off like ping pong ball. A game of ping pong with athletic black men instead of balls, that is. This is usually played right after Larry Zybysko's game of human chess, I heard. Anyway, Jeff places Shelton on the propped up ladder, and looks to go up top to potentially drive him through it, but here comes Charlie with a Super German (not this) off the top! Matt back in, side-effect on Haas, and Jeff eats a T-Bone via Shelton Benjamin. Some people call it an Exploder, but until I see all of Jeff's limbs fly off in opposite directions at once, I'm sticking with T-Bone, baby, on principle alone.
The WGTT regain the advantage soon after, and they create a new ladder prop on the floor where one ladder is propped on a ladder that is wedged between the rungs. Haas then grabs Matt and puts him stomach first on the elevated ladder and Shelton jumps over the top for their leap frog dealy. Worst teeter-totter EVER. I have a feeling Shelton is not welcome at children's playgrounds anymore. Not to be confused with the DEVIL'S PLAYGROUND~!... or "steel cage" to people who are not insane or Michael Cole. Haas tries to grab the belts from there, but here's Jeff, who superplexes Charlie off the top. SUPER-DUPER PLEX. [/Canadian Bacon]. From there, Matt sets up another ladder and climbs it, and Shelton attempts his patented crazy assed Spiderman springboard, but trips up on the top rope, but somehow  manages to still kick the ladder and knock Matt off. And with one adjustment, 12,000 dudes wanting to yell 'you fucked up' get cock-blocked. Haha. Shelton then tries to climb up, but Matt dumps him off and he spills into the ropes. Matt then strangely sets up two ladders instead of just one, as if this match is nothing more than a choreographed stunt show or something! Ahem. All kidding aside, it's funny how certain things in wrestling are so cliché now that no one even bothers to question it anymore. You know, stuff like setting up elaborate ladder configurations rather than just  grabbing the fucking belts. And oh, stuff like the Van Daminator. "Sure, I'll catch this steel chair RVD just threw to me. What's the worst that could happen? BLARGGGHH..."
That said, both Matt and Shelton begin climbing the ladder, as does Jeff & Haas, and both teams fight on top. From there, Shelton takes a NASTY spill out and over and pretty much through the ladder still propped outside. Back in the ring, Jeff hits a Swanton on Haas, and Matt climbs up and grabs the belts to retain the titles!
Winners & STILL Champions: The "Hardys"... and not Hardy Boys. Silly, everybody knows you have to be well over fifty in this company to still have a moniker with the word 'boy' in it.
-Backstage, The Great Khali and his translator Arab Bischoff are standing by for an interview. Khali says that he can beat Cena ANYWHERE. On a boat? Check. With a goat? You better believe it. In a house? Definitely. With a mouse? No doubt. Here or there?For sure. Anywhere? Absolutely. Good stuff. I'm just sad that Khali didn't have his translator say "You want some, come get some" again, if only because I find it hilarious that there is in fact a Hindi translation for fucking street slang.
Mark Henry vs. Kane : LUMBERJACK MATCH.
No truth to the rumors that Henry only agreed to this match because he thought he'd get the world famous Lumberjack breakfast out of it first. Seriously though, whose bright idea was this match? Ya, let's have a match where Mark Henry is forced to actually STAY IN A RING AND WRESTLE. I think secretly, we the viewing audience were booked in an I quit match. I don't know about you, but I'm ready to throw in my fucking towel in. Dear god. Anyway, the irony of this match is that apparently this slot was originally going to go with Benoit vs. MVP, but someone thought Mark Henry vs. Kane would be a BETTER IDEA. Man. That's like having a dinner party where you plan to serve steak, then instead decide it'd be better if you just took a shit on a plate and served that instead. And hey, I know, at this point Benoit has wrestled MVP so many times that he's probably spent more time mounting him than his wife Nancy, but I'm not lying when I say I'd rather watch Benoit vs. MVP looping FOREVER then watch Mark Henry wrestle. As a matter of fact, I'd rather be shot point blank in the face with a bullet filled with AIDS then watch Mark Henry wrestle.
That said, this is a Lumberjack match, so here comes the Lumberjacks! Featuring the likes of Carlito, Kenny Dykstra, Balls Mahoney, Stevie Richards(~!) Intercontinental Champion, Santino "I just moved to New Jersey from Italy, so I'll probably be jointing bodies in Satriale's basement by month's end" Marella and CHRIS BENOIT. Yes, Chris Benoit. Poor bastard. This is probably what his own personal Hell would be like if he led a life of indulgences. Give your heart to Jesus, Chris! It's not too late!
Anyway, we're underway, and you know what? I'm not recapping this. I'll just sum it up. Muscles bulged. Fat guys didn't budge. Then they did. No one fucked with Kane. Then they did. Mark Henry put Kane in a bear hug, then Kane escaped. Then he didn't. The ref stopped the match. I decided to put off suicide. It was a wondrous moment.
Winner: Mark Henry, the man Michael Cole stated insists on now being called "The Silverback". Ya, HE insisted on that. WWE: MAKING BLATANT RACISM SOMEWHAT LESS AWKWARD FOR OVER 30 YEARS. But hey, at least when they inevitably move the fat bastard over to RAW to battle The Marine John Cena, I can use the pun "GORILLA WARFARE~!" and not feel too shitty about it. Clearly.
-After the match, Kane sells the pain of wrestling Mark Henry, which I'm sure is almost equal to that of us who just had to watch it. Oh, and JBL puts over Mark Henry and his bearhug, and compares him to Bruno Sammartino. Yes really. I can see it. He IS just like Bruno Sammartino. A big, fat ,black talentless immobile Bruno Sammartino. It's so obvious. I don't know why I never saw it before...
-Backstage, Haas & Benjamin & The Hardys are being treated for injuries, and argue with one another. Rocky 2 this was not. Shelton states that it was not really an athletic contest unlike the NCAA. I beg to differ. I'd like to see those guys climb a ladder in slow motion as if they're bogged down with 300 pound sand bags instead of just grabbing a fucking belt that's like just 7 feet away. Wait. What were we talking about again?
-Video package for Bobby Lashley vs. Vince McMahon. A haircut gone awry. Clearly, if you're Supercuts, and you see Vince coming towards your store, it's best you just throw that closed sign in the window. Lest you be killed by a 400 pound savage who can afford 2 grand worth of gold in his teeth, but not shoes.
Vince McMahon w/ Shane and UUUUMMMMAGGGA (C) vs. Bobby Lashley w/o charisma: STREET FIGHT for ECW World Title.
Hey, when was the last time you saw a street fight where a giant scary black guy in his underwear chased somebody? That's more like Prison. Anyway, Lashley starts things by attempting to plancha Umaga, but he catches his foot on the top rope and almost kills himself. Ah, at least the guy's heart is in the right place. It's the size of a nickel probably, but it's in the right place. Anyway, Lashley recovers, comes in and press slams Shane. He's DOMINATING. He calls his finisher the DOMINATOR. All's that left for him to complete the Domination hat-trick is to put on a latex rubber suit and drip hot wax on Vince's balls while digging his high heels into his back. Dear god in heaven, Bobby Lashley as a Dominatrix is the fucking scariest thing EVER. Anyway, Dominatrix Lashley tries to powerslam Vince, but here comes Umaga and the world's most dangerous tiny limb...the THUMB. It's true, and if you ever go to Samoa, you might want to think twice about picking up a hitch hiker. It can only end in tragedy for you. Anyway, Vince, Shane & Umaga all take turns beating on Lashley, all culminating with a spear by Vince onto Lashley. But Lashley kicks out. LASHLEY DEFIES ODDS. Man, I gotta somehow kidnap this guy and bring his big ass to Vegas and get him to spin the Roulette wheel. I'll be a millionaire by night's end. Anyway, Vince and Shane hold Lashley down as Umaga goes for a splash, but Bobby sits up, and Vince gets squashed instead. Lashley then disposes of Shane & Umaga, and grabs a chair and brains Vince with it.  Normally, I'd make an unfunny pun on 'chairman of the board' but oh fuck I just did. Lashley then hits the running powerslam but Umaga makes the save. He then destroys Lashley and puts him on the ECW announce table, where Shane does a huge flying elbow that puts Bobby through the table. Just then I get the visual of Hugo and Carlos laughing and giving each other a high five, right before accidentally tripping and falling through their own furniture anyway. Yup.
Umaga wakes up Vince from there and they roll Lashley back into the ring where Vince covers for 2. They then look to set up the Shane-Terminator, after the Umaga ass o'doom in the corner to Lashley, but Lashley somehow pulls Umaga in front and he eats it instead. Lashley then chucks the spear (Tm. Joe Merrick) on Shane, and then gives one to Vince as well, before pinning Vince to regain the World title. Yes! The honor of ECW has finally been restored! Haha, even I can't say that with a straight face.
Winner & *NEW* Champion: Bobby Lashley! And by my count I've now spent 120 dollars on seeing some variation of this match. Oh my god. Maybe I should just sew a bull's-eye on the crotch of my pants. It'll at least make it easier for all the impending kicks.
-After the match, Lashley spears Vince again. How SOFT SPOKEN and HARD-HITTING of him. And hey, has there ever been a worse catchphrase than that? Let's try!: BADDEST MAN ON THE PLANET.... CANNOT MAINTAIN AN ERECTION. TOTAL BAD ASS....SUFFERS FROM IRRITABLE BOWEL SYNDROME. COMPLETELY UNSTOPPABLE.... HAS A LAUGHABLY SMALL PENIS. There we go. Don't say I never did anything for you.
-Backstage, Maria admires Santino Marella's accent. Be careful, Maria. Don't get too close. One wrong move and you'll find yourself on a drive to the country with Silvio Dante. It gets a little worse from there. Anyway, Tard Grisham, interrupts to ask Maria her opinion on the pudding match, because lord knows she'd have the insight here? and she switches over to being brilliant and explains the scientific ramifications of pudding. Just then, Candice comes in and asks for a kiss for good luck, so Maria gives it to her. LEZ BE FRIENDS. Cue Ron Simmons.
Candice Michelle vs. Melina : Non-Title PUDDING MATCH.
Just so you know, this is a NON-title match, because two women wrestling for a championship in 2000 pounds of pudding would be absurd. Clearly. Anyway, I hate to say it, but this one wasn't the catch-as-catch-can classic you'd expect from two half naked women swimming in a pool full of chocolate. They have a LONG WAY to go before they can even think of matching the war that was Stanislaus Zbyszko vs. Ed "Strangler" Lewis in a children's swimming pool full of pork and beans in the late 20's. A LONG way. Anyway, to bottom-line this CLASSIC, Candice ends up winning after Melina submits rather than be drowned in pudding. I heard that's how Lou Thesz lost his first Title.
Winner: Candice Michelle. A woman dripping wet covered with a brown liquid substance. Rumor has it, if Randy Orton had his way, every day would end like this.
- After the match, Maria comes out to interview Candice, but gets tossed into the pudding. The Referee eventually follows suit. Oh WWE. Do the laughs ever start?
Edge (C) vs. Batista: STEEL CAGE For World Heavyweight Title.
Ah yes, finally, the battle between a dude who walks a mile through a pit of danger, and another who once put his dick in one. Yup. I'm still beating that horse.
Anyway, answer me this: Why is Batista even getting another World Title shot? He's lost like every single title match he's been involved in for like 4 months straight. Dear god, Batista is slowly but surely becoming wrestling's answer to those douchebegs who play against the Harlem Globetrotters every game. That said, this is a cage match. And features a dude who calls himself an Animal, so expect Cole to explode into a myriad of really clever parables of how you should never cage an Animal.... while of course comparing the structure itself to meat eating animals. Unlike JR, who'd just think of ways to tie Satan into its origin. SATAN'S SPA OF PAIN AND SUFFERING~! Stay away from the facials. I heard they feel like burning!
Anyway, we're underway, and Edge is trying to escape, (or WINNING THE MATCH) which disgusts Michael Cole to his very annoying core. Fucking Cole. He'd probably be pissed off that a guy is riding his bicycle really fast in the Tour de France. NOT THIS WAY~!
So, that said, Edge continues to fight to escape but Batista keeps stopping him. Edge eventually gains the advantage, as JBL informs us that Edge smells like smoke because he's been through fire. Unlike Rob Van Dam who smells like smoke because, well you know how this sentence ends (I might as well get all my Rob stuff in now. *Sniffle*). Edge then works over Batista for a while, but Big Dave rallies, and delivers a superplex that gets two. Hey, remember when Superplexes actually finished people? And DDT's? Nowadays guys get knocked out by dancing karate chops and dudes pumping up their shoes. What's wrong with this picture? Anyway, Batista looks to climb out soon after but changes his mind, so Edge tries the spear, or as I christened it many years ago the FLYING HUG, but Batista doesn't feel like cuddling and just shoulderblocks Edge instead. He then hits the blackhole of workrate slam. Soon after, he tosses Edge into the cage, then charges Edge in the corner, but he moves and Batista hits the exposed turnbuckle. ANIMAL CRUELTY~! He'll definitely be hearing from PETAB there (People for the Ethical Treatment of The Animal Batista).  Edge then hits the flying hug but that only gets two. It's just then I get the visual of Copeland family get togethers being absolutely terrifying come time to say your goodbyes. Don't look now, but there's Grandma Edge in the corner of the room menacingly dragging her feet and hopping up and down. I think we all know what happens next. Anyway, from there, Edge tries to escape but gets tossed by Batista. Batista now tries for the Batista bomb but Edge scoots out and makes a leaping run for the cage, which prompts Cole to compare him to Spider-man. Well, I guess they both fucked irritating red heads. Only difference is, Edge only feels tingling when he urinates, and not from any discernable "Spider-sense". Close enough. Edge then gets pulled back inside, but hits Batista with three low blows, which surprisingly the big man sells... you know, despite having testicles the size of sun-dried raisins in real life. Edge then climbs up and over, as Dave goes for the door, but he gets his foot caught or something and can't escape so Edge hits first and retains. A farmer then comes by and puts Batista down. Hey, that's what usually happens when Animals outlive their usefulness, right?
Winner and STILL Champion: Edge, the Rated R Superstar! Not to be confused with Jerry Lawler whom I heard is the Rated PG-13 Superstar. But only because that's where he goes to pick up the umm, "ladies".  Maybe I just wanted to make that joke. Probably.
-Promo for Summer Slam airs. The Biggest Party of the Summer! Huh, I guess my invitation got lost in the mail or something....
-Build up for John Cena/ Great Khali. Featuring the really controversial way Cena completely cleanly beat Khali by submission. But hey, you're not supposed to remember it that way. Just file it in the Wrestling X-Files between the briefcase at King of the Ring 1999 and Booker T's "I know what you did" letter in 2003, and be done with it. Trust me. It's for the best.
John Cena (C) w/ hustling loyalty & respect vs. Great Khali w/ plodding, murdering and gibberish: WWE Championship match: FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE.
Hey, am I the only one would who'd like to see Khali adapt a faux rapper gimmick to stick it to Cena? Khali G, maybe? Tell me you wouldn't mark out for it. KHALI G INDAHOUSE! INDIA-HOUSE? I don't know. Anyway, this is the third time these two men have wrestled, or as I like to call it, Match 3 in the worst of everything series. Ah, I kid. Cena's improved tremendously, and has actually carried Khali to some surprisingly passable matches. Cena's actually turning into not a bad Ring General, which clearly adds another rank to his fake military career! It just makes sense.
Anyway, we're underway here, and Khali dominates early, trying to erase all memories of the Pun-JOB he did at Judgment Day from all our minds. It's just a shame I couldn't purge all of Khali's matches from my mind. Where's one of those flashing memory eraser things from Men in Black when you need one? Oh ya, the match. Khali controls the pace, which is apparently set to quicksand, with kicks, clotheslines, chops and boots, and Cena is VICTIMIZED by this baffling array of offense not seen anywhere since the last guy who had no business being anywhere near a ring. Anyway, it's at this point, I realize that even when I fast forward this match, Khali is STILL moving like fucking molasses. From there, out of morbid curiosity, I decide to put my DVR on frame by frame, and as a result, I actually travel back in time! Dinosaurs die. Man climbs out of the primordial ooze, creates fire, says his first word... and Khali is still wrestling in slow motion. Dear lord. Finally, Cena (thankfully) rallies, and hits a throwback after Khali misses a leg, umm, flop, but goes up stairs but is caught with a BRAIN CHOP. Which is DEVASTATING to everyone on Earth, except strangely the WWE Creative team who just shrug their shoulders after taking one, before ultimately going right back to writing hilarious television. Anyway, Khali goes for the one foot pin on the floor, but Cena kicks out at 2, because a hand, once described by JR as being the size of, and I quote "an animal" is not enough to put Cena down.  Fucking JR. Everything is cooking utensils and farm animals with this guy. "Stay away from this Giant, King! His feet are like Sides of Beef, and his hands are like frying pans, and together in unison they cook up a mighty delicious Supper!" From there, Khali then throws Cena over the barricade, and the two brawl into the crowd. Normally, I'd say I fear for the safety of people out there with Khali, but he'd actually have to make fucking contact to kill somebody. Did I mention his spinkick missed by like 12 inches? "By Gawd, King, the sheer centrifugal force behind his giant boot caused Cena to collapse~!". Cena eventually regains the advantage again by clobbering Khali with a monitor and then the camera boom. This only gets two, as Khali and his Punjabi Pajamas kick out. Cena then tries for the FU but Khali says "I don't think so!" (it only sounded like "Garbblle Hrmmmphhhh!!!" to us) and elbows out before pressing Cena onto a crane. With both men standing on the crane, Khali goes for the Tree slam, but Cena goes to the eyes, and manages to get the big man up for an FU, and drops him off the crane and straight to the concrete... that strangely shatters like a stuffed stage. It's a *new* kind of concrete~! Oh ya, Cena pins Khali. MISSION ACCOMPLISHED, SOLDIER. RETURN TO BASE (BASS? FUNKY, FUNKY BASS?)
Winner and *STILL* WWE Champion, and still overcomin' those odds yo, John Cena. But hey, I'd think at this point, the odds would be on him since a 75 year old Nun probably spends more time on their backs than this guy.
FINAL THOUGHTS: If you're having sex with a prostitute, say "Thank you" when you're finished. Whores are people too.
Not a bad show here overall. Nothing to really write home about, however. But hey, I don't think my family would appreciate me writing to them about fucking Mark Henry and Great Khali anyway, so no harm, no foul. Seriously though, the Ladder match delivered. Cena worked a miracle, Edge and Batista was decent, and Lashley & Vince was...umm, finished at least. It's just a shame they couldn't somehow combine the Mark Henry/ pudding match into one disgusting spectacle. Although, I guess they didn't want to risk Candice and Melina being accidentally devoured when Mizark inevitably turned the pool sideways a drank all the chocolate. Smart thinking there. So ya, thumbs of uppery ( in a tribute RVD pose in honor of his last match) here. And hey, here's to a WCW Reunion Pay-per-view! "WWE: Slipped a Roophie in your drink and fucked you while you were sleeping". It could be AWESOME. MAKE IT HAPPEN, WWE.
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.).