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Hey there, Rasslin' nuts, I'm Sean Carless and welcome to the Royal Rumble! Wrestling's most predictable Pay-per-view! And probably the only "match" where a dude actually has a more realistic shot if he gets a completely terrible number. There's no love for number 30. The closest at this point has been 27, and believe you me, that's an advantage that's just not what it's all cracked up to be. And if you do draw number 27, and heaven help you (umm literally) win; well, I hope you got your ass a dark suit in your closet, because you just might need it....
We are LIVE from Philadelphia! The city of brotherly love! I always figured that'd be a better catchphrase for say the Ozarks, seeing how there's a serious shortage of women up in them there hills, and you make due with what you got. But hey, whatever.
Onto the show~!
Earlier on (no) HEAT, Victoria beat Molly Holly in a non-title match, with a particularly devastating Widow's peak, that saw Molly land hard on her knees. I could make a tasteless joke about Molly on her knees, but she's a PROUD VIRGIN, so honestly, the only experience she has in that position is tying her shoes. Oh well.
(C) Ric Flair & Batista vs. The Dudley Boyz; World Tag team Titles: TABLES MATCH.
This was your official opener here, and before the match, Batista got on the stick and went for some cheap heat by insulting the Eagles. Heh. It's just a shame North Carolina already has an NFL team, because I was hoping there'd be a chance that Flair would get himself a franchise. Who couldn't get behind the Carolina Saggyskins? I know I would.
Anyhoo, the story behind this one is that Flair & Pseudo Sid here surprised the Dudley's last month in a gauntlet match, and STOLE the titles... eventually leading to Evolution ending up with all the titles ala the Horsemen in 1988... which is what they're so obviously patterned after. In fact, I heard they were going to actually call themselves the Horsemen, but Batista took it a little literally and figured that'd mean HHH would shoot him with a shotgun and put him out of his misery because he keeps getting injured all the fucking time. And maybe that's for the best. I don't want to see Batista end up as glue anyway. Besides, I heard that it can't ever work, no matter many times it's used...
Glad we cleared that up.
With that said, this match was BEYOND terrible. In fact, I'm pretty sure the only thing more wooden than the tables here would be Batista himself, who worked this match like the Tin-man trying to walk through quick sand. Dudleys isolate Flair for most of the match, double teaming him, but for some reason COACH runs in, and distracts Bubba long enough for Batista to simply spinebuster D-Von through the tables for the win. Yup.
Winners and STILL World Tag team Champions: Ric Flair & Batista. Finally, Big Dave gets revenge on D-Von for that whole "Deacon Batista" phase. I always wondered what kind of Christian Church would allow a guy with a sleeveless suit who called himself "THE DEMON OF THE DEEP" to carry around their collection plate. I doubt that shit would fly. No wonder Reverend D-Von's ministries went under so fast.
-After the match, Coach catches a quick word with the Champs. Ric Flair yells that he told The Dudley's someone was going to get put through a table tonight. Umm, obviously. That's kinda the whole  point of the match there, Naitch. That'd be like someone saying after the Tour De France "I told you someone would ride a bicycle here tonight!"
-Backstage, John Cena is interviewed. He says to "bet on the kid who pumps up his shoes" to take the Rumble tonight. What, that annoying little black kid who lives next door to me? Why the fuck is he in the Rumble? Oh. Anyway, he is then interrupted by Rob Van Dam. Cena says that Rob's been talking to Mary Jane. Wait. He was talking to Spiderman's girlfriend? Holy shit. I knew RVD owned a comic store and everything, but I didn't know he was in that good! Oh, he meant. Umm, never mind....
(C) Rey Mysterio vs. Jamie Noble w/ Nidia w/  THE BLINDNESS.
Umm, ya. Nidia is still blind here. Who knew that getting koolaid spit in your face caused you to lose your sight forever. No wonder everyone died after that cult leader made them drink it. THAT SHIT IS LETHAL. Oh yeahhhhhhhh!
This was a solid match, but much like the first, it felt too much like a TV match; and the fact it barely eclipsed three minutes is a testament to that. After a lot of back and forth, Noble looks for the Tiger Driver (a hold invented by Siegfried & Roy, I hear. No wonder Roy got mauled! It was just a matter of time before the tiger's got sick of taking all those finishers!) but Rey countered out; and as Noble bounced to the ropes, Blind Nidia gets involved, tripping up Noble by *accident*. Damn you, Nidia! This just proves once and for all that you can never trust a blind person. I mean, look at that Stevie Wonder. His eyes are all shifty all the time. You can just tell he's up to something! Oh, that's a lack of muscle control brought on by perpetual blindness? My bad.
Anyway, this allows Rey-Rey to finish with a 619 and a dropping of the dime. Paul Heyman then runs out and puts it in his pocket.
Winner and STILL champion: Rey Mysterio, thanks to an assist from Blind Nidia. I guess she figured that if you're going to be blind, who better to associate yourself with than a dude with WHITE FUCKING PUPILS... who irregardless can still see. Perhaps Rey will share his secret with her?
Eddie Guerrero vs. Chavo Guerrero w/o Junior w/ Chavo w/ Senior. Confused yet?
The end of Los Guerreros. No more lying, cheating and stealing. Ah, what a shame. Who'd ever think a relationship built entirely on indulgences and being a really horrible person could go so wrong? What a head scratcher.
Chavo is of course accompanied to the ring by his father, Chavo Sr., and he still isn't called Chavo jr. How many Chavos have to be out there before he gets called that? Anyway, this match was clearly worked under WWE's new mantra of mat-based psychology, and it told the story that Eddie was staying in control of his emotions and grinding Chavo down through wrestling instead of brawling. Chavo senior ends up getting a cheap shot off on Eddie, as the crowd begins chanting "Chavo sucks". Which one? There's two out there! Cole then notes that "Chavo" deserves the chants... if you know what he means. No, I don't know what you mean, Michael. Are you outting Chavo? What the fuck is going on here? Anyway, Chavo, steals a page out of Eddie's book, (I hope it's not that chapter on him falling asleep in the shower, with Bradshaw backstage, who knows what could happen!) and starts the triple verticals, but Eddie blocks on the third. Chavo then tries to finish with his tornado DDT, which contrary to popular belief is completely useless on tropical storms, but Eddie counters out again, hits his own triple vertical suplexes, goes upstairs and squashes Chavo with the frogsplash to pick up the win. Good, but really short match.
Winner: Eddie Guerrero, who celebrates his win by "snapping" and beating the ever loving shit out of his brother and nephew. Cole and Tazz cry over the fact that this appears to be the end of wrestling's greatest family. However, there's some dead Germans down in Texas, and bitter Canadians up in Alberta that might disagree with that statement. Ok, the Von Erich's aren't really saying anything. If they were, that'd mean they'd still be alive... and probably wondering what they were doing in a fucking box right now. Poor bastards.
- Backstage, Chris Benoit is interviewed by Josh Matthews on his #1 draw, when Flair, Batista & Orton interrupt. Flair puts over Benoit as a great wrestler, but rubs it in that he can't win "the big one". My theory on that has always been that the company always wanted to put the belt on him, but since he's physically unable to reach behind his back with his arms to fasten the strap, it was just awkward for everyone. Ah, I kid ya, Chris. I love ya.
-Video package for Bob Holly vs. Brock Lesnar. You know what's worse than having to sit through a match you have no urges to ever fucking watch? Listening to a detailed 5 minute chronicle of that match. Dear god.
(C) Brock Lesnar vs. Bob Holly: WWE TITLE.
Thankfully, the only "Title" Holly earned tonight was "worst lame duck world title challenger ever", having ended The Patriot's amazing near seven year reign. Congratulations, Sparky! But seriously, has there even been a less credible challenger than Bob Holly? Man, the endings to Titanic and fucking Pearl Harbor were probably more in question than the result of this fucking match. But hey, who knows? Maybe this would FINALLY be the night that Bob Holly would find that same reserve he had when he lost 13,000 straight matches over the last decade, and pull it off? After all, if you can go toe to toe and *almost* pull out the "w" against a legend like the Goon, what's besting 300 lbs. dominant Collegiate champion? That's right.
 The story here is that Holly would rather "break Lesnar's neck" than win the Title, but since it is Sparky Plugg, the story means nothing. After all, if you were SO ANGRY that you really wanted to end someone's livelihood, would you do so with a FUCKING DROPKICK? Not that Lesnar was any better here. For a guy so terrified of a dude whose career highlights include knowing the location of every strobe light on every ceiling in every arena across the country, he opts to STOP THIS BY GAWD TERROR with a... BEAR HUG? Seriously. "I HATE YOU SO MUCH FOR STALKING AND PLAGUING ME WITH YOUR UNRELENTING REVENGE THAT I SHALL WRAP MY ARMS AROUND YOU FOR 3 STRAIGHT MINUTES DOING NOTHING, SO I MAY CATCH MY BREATH! FEEL MY WRATH!" Yup. Anyway, Holly eventually hits an Alabama Slam, but opts to instead snare a full nelson rather the cover; but Lesnar, a 300 pound guy, ROLLS TO THE FLOOR IN TERROR... from a 230 pound guy. Seriously. Maybe Holly should have given him a purple nurple. He'd have tapped out 5 minutes ago. Anyway, Holly doesn't let go of the hold, but once he does, he rolls back in, probably trying to remember just what he has left in his arsenal, now that he's unleashed the plague of horrors that is a standing dropkick. Lesnar then gets back up on the apron, so Holly applies a 2ND Full Nelson, but Lesnar counters out by dropping out of the ring to the floor, which snaps Holly's neck against the ropes. Lesnar then slips in and hits a quick F-5 to end the misery. Poor Bob Holly. Maybe he should have just jumped into his stock car and ran over Brock? That way he'd have bought himself a few more minutes until Lesnar just beat him anyway.
Winner & STILL Champion: Brock Lesnar. Who knows what jobber will come out of the wood work next looking for payback. Maybe we'll find out this coming Thursday night that Brock once really hurt Barry Horowitz's feelings in early 2000, and we'll get another REALLY AWESOME 3 month feud! I'm stoked!
(C) HHH vs. HBK; World Heavyweight Title match; Last Man Standing.
Hey, I think we have found the answer to why every match preceding this has only been given like 5 minutes. Either that, or tonight will introduce the first ever "20 minute intervals" between Rumble entries. And sadly, if that is the case, Benoit will only weigh 45 pounds by match's end if he does pull it off. But regardless I guess someone decided the rest of the card would take a back seat to Triple H's big title defense here. Man, who's this guy fucking? Oh.
They should of changed the name of this match to "No man Standing" because the ending ruined what was to that point a fantastic match. And speaking of matches, do you remember when this was considered a dream match? Me too. But that was 300 matches ago. I think by this point, HBK has spent more time on top of HHH then he has his wife Rebecca. Dear lord.
Anyway, HBK & HHH continue to be a master of ring psychology, and as the match progressed, they continued to draw fans into the story. One big spot saw HBK attempt an Asai moonsault to the outside, but HHH moves and Michaels flies into the Spanish Announce table. I could point out that it is kind of foolish to use a move that could potentially knock YOURSELF unconscious in a match that can only be won by , umm, knocking your opponent unconscious, but umm, I kinda just did. But seriously. That'd be like stopping a robbery attempt by pointing a gun at your own chest and pulling the trigger, hoping that it passes clean through and takes out the assailant. Or maybe I'm just putting too much thought into this....
Anyway, HHH takes advantage and batters HBK on the floor, and HBK is BLEEDING, and bleeding something fierce. Man, this guy bleeds A LOT. And it's always from the head, so you can rule out Stigmata. Oh well. Anyway, lot's more near ten counts from there (too many to count, plus, I umm, don't want to? Yup.) but eventually, HHH pastes HBK with a chair, and that looks to be all, but Michaels STILL gets up.
Eventually, HHH tries for a pedigree but HBK back drops out and HHH lands on the chair. HBK goes into his full offensive flurry from there; the forearm, the kip-up, and the flying elbow. He then begins to menacingly stomp his foot, as I start to wonder why the fuck no one ever seems to know what that pounding means. "Wait. What is that thumping sound? There it is again! and again! and again! and again! What could this be? Well, let's turn around at find out! Wait it's a su...BLARRRRRRRRGGGGH". You get the idea. HHH however, avoids the kick, and goes low. From there, Michaels recovers and gets a sleeper, before dropping HHH and demanding a count. He gets 8, before HHH staggers to his feet. HHH then comes back with a big DDT soon after, but HBK is up at 8. Both men then collapse on one another, and the ref counts both, but they're collectively up at 9. Just then, Trips hits THE NUCLEAR PEDIGREE~!, but it doesn't finish HBK, who's up at 9, because Kliq members, and ONLY kliq members possess the secret to surviving it's life obliterating fallout. Just ask Booker T. It took a team of scientists to reanimate him from his one at WM 19...
Anyway, Triple H, then walks right into some sweet chin music, and is down in out, but Michaels, collapses as well, as the effects of nuclear pedigree have finally caught up with him apparently. They always say the radiation gets you after a blast. I guess they were right. The referee starts his count and BOTH men get counted out, which didn't please the crowd to say the least.
Winner: No one! Everyone! Both! Neither! DRAW! Even-steven! Stalemate! Impasse! Tie! Deadlock! Dead heat!... and I've kinda run out of thesaurus words for NO ONE WANTED TO DO A FUCKING JOB HERE. That's right. The problem when you book two guys who don't ever fucking lose is, well, someone kinda has to lose. What a predicament. So, they just dusted off the old Rock/Foley St. Valentine's Day Massacre finish, and knocked each other out. Man, I wonder if this also happens in other games between these two friends. I can just imagine a spirited game of chess between them, with each about to have checkmate, when suddenly, they just look at each other and keel over simultaneously. Stephanie then runs out, clears the board quickly, calls it a draw; they wake up, pin Rob Van Dam, and everybody's happy! Good stuff.
- Eric Bischoff comes out and buries Philadelphia and Rival-GM, Paul Heyman. Heyman then comes out to a lukewarm response surprisingly, and the two begin to brawl. This of course brings out "Sheriff" Stone Cold Steve Austin, riding in his scooter o' justice. And by his display here, I think it's pretty safe to say, this particular "Sheriff" is no hurry to enforce those pesky drinking and driving laws. Someone's gonna be MAAD as hell!
Anyway, I don't think I need to tell you what happens next. But I will anyway. Stunners for both men. Actually, a stunner for Bischoff. Then he drank a beer with Heyman, then remembered Heyman forgot to sign his name on his one ECW pay-check in 1995, so he stunned him too. Huh. If one was a conspiracy theorist, one could say that this was a subtle burial of  WCW and ECW with WWE's biggest star obliterating both. But hey, the alternative is Vince restarting one of the companies, and running it into the ground just because he can. I guess we should be happy he hasn't  ever thought of that.
[Sean's note from 2007: Dear Lord...  ].
-Terri Runnels and her perpetually hard nipples since 1996 interviews Goldberg. Lesnar then enters and makes light of Bill for no longer having the World Title since they last met. Goldberg then says he's going to take the Rumble tonight, and says "ain't that right, Hardcore?" which spooks Lesnar... because umm, the prospect of having to defeat a fledgling midcarder in under 6 minutes again has him completely terrified? Brock then says "You, got me this time, Bill. But I'll have the last laugh. Ain't that right, JERRY FLYNN?" and Goldberg, completely stunned, yells out "Jerry Flynn?! I thought I had seen the last of you when we wrestled 74 straight times on Thunder! Dear God, it's happening again!". Ok, the last part of this exchange never really happened. But damn it, it should have. This impending rivalry clearly needs more panic-inducing jobbers. Clearly. 
IT IS NOW TIME FOR THE ROYAL RUMBLE~! Rules: 30 men. 29 go. One dude remains. He gets a Title shot. If only the ring announcer could learn from my sweet, sweet brevity here. I think the fucking tedious explanation of the rules here is the real reason we're only getting 90 second intervals.
#1 is.... Chris Benoit! Chris Benoit is here and he's really mad! Chris Benoit is here and he's really Ang-ry! Admittedly, this sounds better with kazoos. #2 is Randy Orton, the Legend Killer! Man, Christmas with his Dad and grandfather must have been real awkward this year. You never know when Randy might get the sudden urge to murder them by virtue of their status in the business. Yup. #3 is Mark Henry, the only man in the world whose pecs stretch around his entire body. #4 is Tajiri! The Japanese Buzzsaw! I ordered one of those on an Infomercial the other night, but had to return it, because it kept inexplicably spraying me in the face every time I used it.
No one's been eliminated yet. #5 is Bradshaw of the APA, which if you've seen their shirts, now stands for "Always Pounding Ass". Man, that joke's too easy even for me. Bradshaw however doesn't stick around too long and is eliminated by Benoit before the next buzzer even went off. Weird. That doesn't bode too well for him [Sean's note from 2007: Umm, ya. He only got the longest WWE Title reign in 9 years just 3 months later... Shows what I know...].
#6 is Rhyno, living proof that "F" wasn't the only letter to "get out" in WWE. "i" was also a casualty. Tajiri stupidly tries to put the Tarantula on Mark Henry. Ya, hanging upside down out of the ring is the best strategy in this match. Tajiri ultimately pays for that by being dumped out by both Henry and Rhyno. Mark Henry goes out next at the hands of Benoit, after apparently being misted by Tajiri, which if Nidia is any indicator, means that he's now completely blind. Oh noes! Now he'll be useless as a wrestler! *Ahem*.
#7 is Matt Hardy, Version 1. #8, is Scott Steiner!... fresh from guarding the sacred chalice of Christ as his part time job of Knight Templar! #9 is Matt Morgan, big and strong, but just not the same since his partner Nathan Jones took his umm, milk, and went home. Too bad, too. I was hoping Morgan could get himself a baker gimmick just so we could call their team "Milk & Cookies". Hell, Stacy KEIBLER could be their manager! This shit writes itself. #10 is The Hurricane, and the S.H.I.T. is on!..unfortunately he's tossed not even a minute later by Matt Morgan. "Stand Back!..So I can, umm, land safely on the floor without threat of injury!". Heh. Doesn't quite have the same ring.
#11 is Booker T. who goes right after Scott Steiner. A worm hole (not Scotty 2 Hotty's ass) then opens up and sends them back to March of 2001! Strange! Kane comes in at #12. Scott Steiner is dumped out by Booker. Holla, so he can hear you! He's getting kind of old now so you'll need to speak up! Kane destroys everyone in the ring. Undertaker's gong then goes off, and Kane freaks out. He gets dumped out by Booker T, soon after. #13 is Spike Dudley, who unfortunately never makes it to the ring, and gets obliterated by Kane. Hey, didn't this poor bastard just get off injury reserve? Man, that'd be like finding out you beat cancer, only to step off the curb and get mowed down by a fucking bus.
#14 is Rikishi. With all the hot women on this roster, it's Rikishi who has the real breasts and shows the most skin. That's thought provoking and completely terrifying. Benoit dumps out his Brother in arms (as in completely not proportioned) Rhyno. #15 is Rene Dupree, the wrestling sun-dial! Lay him flat on his back outside and you can tell what time it is!
Dupree and his erection dropkick Matt Hardy out. It's at this point I think one of those Internet Explorer "error" screens should pop up in honor of V1. Of course, that's just me. Rikishi then eliminates Dupree during his dance.  #16 is A-Train, the man who has the world convinced that NYC's public transit system could use a good shave. Take a taxi! They've had a Brazilian! Morgan goes out by Benoit, and Orton dumps both Rikishi and Booker T, soon after.  #17 is Shelton Benjamin. A-Train mysteriously disappears during Shelton's intro. My theory is someone threw a bucket of Nair on him and he dissolved like the wicked Witch in Wizard of Oz. Shelton goes out in like 35 seconds from there by Orton. World's greatest Tag team. World's Worst Battle Royal entrant, apparently. This just leaves Orton & Benoit, numbers 1 & 2 (not piss & shit) alone again.
#18 is "The Cat" Ernest Miller. He gets dumped out in almost record time. I'd say "someone call his Mama", but she's disowned his ass after that performance. #19 is Kurt Angle, a man whose probably kicking himself for having ever taken Scott Hall's advice on a neck surgeon. Knowing where to accost and sexually assault elderly women? Scott's your man. Everything else? Not so much. #20 is Rico, Former Las Vegas Police Officer and current latent homosexual. I'd hate to be thrown into the drunk tank at his Police Station. You'd have to wear a pair of pants with a hemorrhoid cushion sewn into the ass. Oh, he lasts about as long as it took me to write that joke, as Orton sent him up and over. Test was to be #21, but he's laying unconscious on the floor. Austin is then seen telling someone to get their ass out there. And it's MICK FOLEY~! Holy shit. Mark out time. Foley comes in like a psycho and goes after Orton! Cactus clothesline takes both he and Orton out. Fucking Awesome.
#22 is Christian. #23 is Nunzio, the last remaining F.B.I. member, as Chuck Palumbo and Johnny The Bull have apparently been put into the witness protection where NO ONE will find them, or "OVW' as it's more commonly referred to. Foley & Orton are brawling on the floor and Nunzio gets  Mr. Socko because he's in the wrong place at the wrong time. # 24 is Big Show, fresh from whipping himself up some dinner in his hands backstage. #25 is Chris Jericho. #26 is Charlie Haas. Christian gets eliminated by Chris Jericho. First he gets rejected by a woman for equating her worth to a dollar and now this. Is there no sense or justice? #27 is BILLY GUNN. Billy Gunn has drawn NUMBER 27! If there was ever a time to pull for Billy to win this thing, it's now! Or, maybe I just have my own selfish reasons for that.....
#28 is John Cena, complete with new marketing friendly Word life knux! Knowing WWE, they'll market this poor motherfucker to the point where we all turn on him. What's next ,a fucking blinged out Championship belt? [Sean's note from 2007:  ..... ]  # 29 is old Mr. Potato Hands himself, Rob Van Dam, and # 30 is homeless Bill Goldberg, who was just reactivated last week according to JR. (Wait. Reactivated? I KNEW HE WAS A ROBOT. The promos gave it away!). Goldberg eliminates Nunzio and Charlie Haas in short order. He then goes after Big Show, but Brock Lesnar runs in and ambushes him from behind with the F-5! Kurt Angle then dumps out Goldberg, who'll now head back to the Island he and Tom Hanks were stranded on for the last month. (Jesus, Bill. Is a fucking shave really asking too much?)
From there, everyone left in the ring (Jericho, Cena, RVD, Angle, Benoit) try to pitch out Show, who does all the Andre  tributes (except the dying part), but to no avail. The irony here was that it was all the IWC favorites teaming up to try and eliminate the hated "Hoss"... and the Hoss still prevails. DID I MENTION HIS HANDS ARE LIKE SKILLETS? Show then dumps out RVD, then Cena, who looks to tweak his knee on the way out. Clearly, the best way to have eliminated Show from this thing would be to dump a Little Debbie's snack cake on the arena floor, and when he bent over the ropes to pick it up, everyone could have just tipped him out. These guys need me out there~!
Anyway, your final 4 (8 if you count Show) are Jericho, Angle, Benoit and of course Big Show... for whom WWE never did tell us just exactly what that "show" exactly was. I hope for our sakes it's not Puppetry of the Penis. I wouldn't wish that fate on anyone. Big Show continues to rampage, dumping out Jericho, then Angle who tried an ankle lock (cankle-lock?) on the big man, but he just propelled him out. This just leaves Benoit and Show and one of these men is going to Wrestlemania!... while the other will likely make his FIRST EVER U.S. heavyweight title defense! You know, despite having the belt for OVER 4 MONTHS. Dear lord. Benoit and Big Show then circle each other as the crowd comes alive, knowing the end is near. It's at this point, I start to worry for Chris because I'm convinced Show once overheard Nash refer to Benoit as a "Vanilla midget" in WCW, and he now thinks he was literally made of fudge and will try to consume him by match's end. Of course, by this point, I'm completely drunk off my rocker so don't listen to me. 
Big Show dominates Benoit, but Chris gets a defensive front face lock. Show then drops him on the apron, but Benoit keeps his grip. Benoit then slowly starts choking Show out, and repositioning his own body under the ropes to give himself more leverage. Finally, after a titanic struggle, Show teeters out, and Benoit pulls him to the floor to win the match! Chris Benoit is going to Wrestlemania!
Fantastic Rumble, my ridiculousness aside.
Winner: Chris Benoit! Who'll finally headline Wrestlemania!... while hopefully not ending up under the heaving body of The Game. Because it seems, these days, the only person who gets to lay on top of Hunter for more than two seconds is Steph; so I'm not holding my breath... but I am keeping my fingers crossed. Now where did I put that kazoo?
End Show.
FINAL THOUGHTS: This pay-per-view was the equalivalent of a dying man suddenly resuscitated . It looked like things were curtains half way through, but thanks to two spirited matches, the corpse of this show quickly re-animated and came out stronger than it did before. Still though, there's really no excuse for a fucking THREE MINUTE match on a show I'm paying forty dollars of my not hard earned money for (fun fact: I cheat the government!) . However, the Rumble was so good, that by night's end, I completely forgot about how disappointingly short the undercard was.
So, TWO THUMBS OF UPPERY from this sarcastic motherfucker overall.

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, 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.).