I know, I know, I was supposed to be ‘getting creative’ today,
but unfortunately, I have spent the majority of my evening in the hospital with my brother, so I have neither the time nor
the energy for it. So look out for that next week, and this week, put up with a ‘capsule review’. A ‘capsule
review’, in most circles, means a small summation. Unfortunately, on this website, it means I’m putting fuck all
effort in.
Out comes Edge. Cue ridiculous explosions and such, because now that Edge has beaten Taker in a 30 second
match for the championship, he is a hot commodity deserving of rockets. I remember when the sign of a great champion was hour
long title defences and representing your territory against an onslaught of monsters. Now if you win a match in half a minute
and have six ‘Screamin’ Bangers’, you deserve that damn belt. Edge reels of his usual, the rated R era has
begun etc etc. They HAVE to stop scripting these promo’s. It’s getting as repetitive as ‘Married With Children’.
Batista:-
Durr, Peggggg can we have… errrr… sex tonight.
Peggy:-… no.
(Outrageous laughter).
Batista:- Durrrr…
I’m gonna kick… Peggggggs… ASS.
(Outrageous laughter).
Anyway, Teddy brings his bad-ass self
out to say that the winner of a Fatal Four Way match tonight will face Edge at ONS. I remember when Number One contenders
were decided over a gruelling period of time in which a competitor would build his way up the ranks, earning victory after
victory until they could rightly say that they were good enough to get a title shot. Now apparently all you have to do is
hunt Arnold Schwartzenegger and Jesse Ventura through a jungle using heat seeking alien technology. Oh, by the way, the contenders
are Kane, Mark Henry, Finlay and Batista. How exciting. Sorry, typo there. How excruciating.
Now either Teddy
Long screws up here or he is a motherfucker.
Teddy:- ‘The winner faces Edge in a HELL IN A…. 15 foot high
steel cage‘ match.
Oh, well that’s ding dang fucking diddly doozy. Here’s me thinking we are about
to see pure brutality, but hell no, we get the same shit we had at WRESTLEMANIA TWO WITH KING KONG BUNDY! So much for ECW
being the innovators of violence, eh?
Match 1:- Londrick vs. Taylor and Regal
Should
be a strong little match that doesn’t in anyway involve Deuce and Domino. That is, until they drive out to ringside,
and I imagine the feeling of relief that would wash over me if my head was under one of those wheels right now. God, I hate
these two. Anyway, we start off with some technical wrestling, until Kendrick starts trying to fly, and is pitched to the
outside. Good selling here, as he looks to have twisted his knee. They get back into the ring, and Regal hits some DEVESTATING
looking stiff knees. GOD I love shots like that.
Some more stuff happens, but I find myself getting annoyed at the editor
who keeps deciding to show us the damn car in which Deuce and Domino are doing nothing. Whilst this is preferable to them
actually doing SOMETHING, like, I dunno, wrestling, I WANNA WATCH THE DAMN MATCH. Anyway, Sliced Bread Number Two in the ring,
but Kendrick lets go way too early and it looks meh-tastic.. London is tagged in, cleans house for a while, goes up top and…..
…Domino pushes him off. The ref calls for the bell and I think, ‘well, what a fucking crock.’ Then
I think, ‘At least Regal and Taylor weren’t facing Kane’. I then thank God in a solemn prayer. And then,
whilst I’m on the line, I ask him to kill Deuce and Domino, but unfortunately, a Symbiote drops from my ceiling, turning
me alarmingly into Spawn for no apparent fucking reason whatsoever. Screw you, I’m bored.
Six way brawl on the
outside. Could there be a six man tag match around the corner?
Okay, now we see Hornswoggle running through the
back with Edge’s belt. I wrote like four jokes here and deleted them all. One about the end of a rainbow. One about
RVD’s stash. But none of them can really compare to the sight of EDGE chasing a LEPRECHAUN through the back. Pure gold.
Anyway, Finlay hands Edge his belt back, ‘for now.’ For a man who loves to fight, that was a bit… erm…
gay.
Speaking of gay, Jillian Hall could turn Oscar Wilde tonight. And I’m not a big Jillian mark.
Reporter:-
Anything to declare, Oscar?
Oscar Wilde:- I have nothing to declare but my need to fucking bang the shit out of Jillian
Hall.
Moving swiftly on, Jillian performs ‘Jillatronic’. Which would be awful except I’m just
watching those titties bounce, and believe me, I would listen to Jillatronic daily for a Jillian Mountain Range sandwich.
With my penis being the meat. And her breasts being the buns. Oh, you got it.
Anyway, Boogeyman interrupts… what
is left of Jillian to bite off? LEAVE THOSE BREASTS ALONE, I GOT ONE SANDWICH WITH MY NAME ON IT. And the… erm…
meat is my penis etc.
Jillian escapes, McCool throws her back in, all the while Jillian is screaming into that mic, making
my job a little faster. You see, my fingers are the buns… and the meat is…
Little Boogey scares her some more,
they throw some worms on her, but by this point the only worm that matters has been sick and I feel completely satisfied.
God DAMN this episode of Smackdown is good.
Theodore Long gives Vickie Guerrero the Assistant General Manager job.
God DAMN this episode of Smackdown is bad.
Match 2.- Matt
Hardy vs. The Miz.
Let me give you the capsule review for this match. Literally, a capsule. A capsule
of poison, which upon swallowing, the death is quick and painless.
The Miz, as per, controls WAY TOO MUCH of the action
here, mostly with basic holds and wrestling 101, until Matt Hardy hit’s the Twist Of Fate. Which The Miz sells like
a swinging neck breaker. Good LORD.
Winner:- Matt Hardy.
I hate The Miz. I hate this new ‘attitude’
that he Is supposed to be portraying. He’s still Ryan Seacrest in a wrestling ring to me.
And out comes the
highest paid superstar on Smackdown!! No, not Taker. No! Not Batista. Oh, for god’s sake, not Benoit either. It’s
MVP. Whatever happened to keyfabe??
Anyway, there are lots of banners and shit, MVP is celebrating his title reign.
He cuts a killer promo about having finally proven himself, and then calls out Benoit, who obliges. OOH I SMELL TROUBLE.
Porter
asks Benoit to shake his hand.
Benoit shakes his hand.
SWERVE.
MVP says that isn’t enough and demands
he raise his hand, and accept that Benoit is the past and MVP is the future. This is REALLY good shit by the way. MVP may
VERY WELL be the future. Unfortunately, he’ll never be a world champion with the MVP gimmick in my humble opinion.
Benoit
has had enough, and hits him with the Triple Germans, and MVP runs for the hills. Awesome stuff that might just have stretched
out this feud a match or two more. Let’s hope the last is a gimmick. Ladder match, maybe? Because this feud has really
lended some prestige to a title oft looked down on, and it deserves a big blow off.
That Timbaland song is shown.
Do you know that he also did one with Fall Out Boy on that album. Oh the credibility that Timbaland has. At least Jay Z had
an excuse and kept it REAL short.
And then Kane used the names of the match and the Pay Per View to great effect in
his interview. Something like, ‘I can’t wait for my four way with these three strapping men tonight. Oooh, and
then on to a One Night Stand with Edge!’ Something like that.
Match 3:- Worthless vs. Pointless in a FILLER MATCH!! OH JOY.
This isn’t a title match,
so Chavo and Jimmy Wang Yang are fighting for fucking beans again in a feud that nobody has even recognised as a feud because
it is so worthless that the Million Deutzche notes in Germany after the First World War would have paid for three of these
matches, and had change.
Again, Yang looks money out there, reversals and shit abound, at a lightning fast pace, until
Chavo kicks him off the top rope and goes for the Generic Chavo Offence. Infact, let’s send Chavo’s offense to
the judges.
Randy:- I jus’ wasn’ feelin’ it dawg. Home-boy. Niggah.
Paula Abdul:- I…
erm… love the way you are dressed.
Simon Cowell:- Well, how do I put this nicely. Two out of ten,. And one and
a half of those marks are pity marks.
Well, there you have it from a ratty English twat, a token black guy and
a woman who is famous for dancing with an animated rapping cat. Because THEY are qualifications. Jeez.
Anyway,
Chavo with a surfboardy thing, which goes against ALL of his national stereotypes. Anyway, Yang builds back in with some amazing
sequences between the two, but he goes for the moonsault, and hurts the leg. Good psychology. Followed by… erm…
not so good psychology with the Three Amigo’s. OOH, that must have been truly DEVESTATING to the knee! The shockwaves
from landing so gently on his back surely JOLTED it with a tremendous amount of NOTHING!! And now, the DREADED MOONSAULT!
Such contact to the chest could only lead to the COMPRESSED AIR BEING THROWN TOWARDS THE KNEE IN A COMPLETELY UNDEVESTATING
MANNER!! Shockingly, this doesn’t work and JWY wins with a hurricanrana. Which ironically would have done a great deal
more damage to the knee than a frogsplash.
Winner:- JWY.
Good matches abound tonight. I know I’m bitching,
but these are GOOD matches. Except Miz.
Kristall is backstage with Batista. Tonight I will be listening to Batista’s
promo through the ears of a dog…
Batista:- ‘Warble oogle murble punderul WALK blurble ooble shurple.’
Roughly
translated, this means, ‘The match won’t be fatal for me’. Well, no. But your mic skills might. AGGGH.
Match 4:- MAIN EVENT FATAL FOUR WAY.
Bare with me here, this one will be tough. Oh wait,
it’s Kane, Mark Henry, Batista and Finlay! Set those dials to methodical kiddies! And this ‘methodical’
dial goes all the way up to 11!
Anyways, big brawl to start with, with Batista eating announcers table. This match
is basically a big ass brawl. I know I usually give some insight into the last match, but everybody is just beating the crap
out of each other, and there is not a lot I can say about that other than ‘these guys are plain beating the crap out
of each other’. Nobody has a clear advantage. It’s a massacre.
Shilleighleighleigh is brought in, and Henry
gets clocked, then Big Teest gets his leg battered… and then Finlay goes out of the ring to beat on Kane some more.
Wow. What a fucking twat.
Anyways, Batista decimates everybody to end the match with spears, and then a Bomb to Finlay
because he is the only one he can comfortably lift. That’s enough for the pin. I blame Finlay for his stupidity. Edge
vs. Teest again in a CAGE IN A CELL IN HELL OR SOMETHING!!!
I would officially give this match Three Niggah’s,
but Sean might lose the website. So I raise it two rape victims and a pregnant Catholic.
Stored
in the Swagbag:- I’m storing Jimmy Wang Yang, Matt Hardy, Londrick and MVP for their stellar work week after
week. This company has a future here if they look in the right direction.
Condemned to
the Dungeon:- Kane and Batista for what can only be described as bullshit. Kane CAN work a mic, so that was purely
horrible, and Batista needs to stay away from anything that enhances his voice and stick to the stuff enhancing his muscles.
Okay,
I’ll do the creative stuff next week if my brother doesn’t have an epileptic fit and hit his head on a desk on
the way down, splitting an eyebrow. Oh, you silly, silly epileptic.