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By James Walker

The more things change, the more they stay the same. See, the last time a Saturday Night Main Event aired, I was in an awkward phase of my life, wherein my love of Ghostbusters was being shifted over towards Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Now, 14 years later, as the next installment is being aired, I’m shifting my love of alcohol to more alcohol, and I’m hoping it’ll help me get through what could be a great abomination of one of the few remaining legacies left in this sport. Let’s find out.


I’m James Walker, filling in for… no one… and while many of you expected Sean Carless to write this, give the guy a break. It’s his freakin’ birthday, and something tells me disease-ridden strippers grinding up against his Big Mac grease-laden chin sounds more appetizing than seeing what may lay before us tonight. Mmmm, mental imagery.


Anywho, the set looks like something from a PPV. A little too much flash for my liking, but whatever, it’s not like I’m part of their key demographic or anything…


The show feels vaguely like a PPV, especially with the neat little preview video. We all know that these are always awesome, so why should I tell you? Oh, it’s nice to see JR on commentary; though Tazz & Lawler kinda crowd him. I think I’d have preferred JR doing this solo. Oh well, let’s get to the first match.


John Cena & Triple H VS Randy Orton, Rey Mysterio, & Kurt Angle: Winner gets to job out at Wrestlemania.


On paper, this is an odd pick for the opening match – but it was either this or the HBK/Shane fight, which I’m sure will have bigger spots, so it’s probably for the best. We start off with Orton & Cena, and the WWE brass promptly spill their combined ejaculate all over their stock options. Frankly, I don’t see the attraction of this “Dream Match”. But hey, women say the same thing about my penis and their mouth, and that’s nothing a little GHB doesn’t cure, so as long as the WWE can send Marty Jannety over to my place when their eventual match happens, I think they’ll have sold me on this idea. It’s worth mentioning that the Cena-hatred has returned tonight, which probably makes him as confused as an 11 year old boy watching Brokeback Mountain. This match is chock full of what you’d expect – partners not getting along, unoriginal spots, and a general apathy towards the whole thing. Sounds a lot like my sex life.


ANYWAYS. Before I can type all that out, HHH saves Cena from a 619 and we go to a commercial.




I have to ask, what is the real point of St. Patrick’s Day? I mean, don’t go all history on me here, no one gives a shit. I honestly think the government mandated it, then people were sitting alone with their ‘holiday’, trying to figure out what to do with it, and some drunk in the corner said “LET’S GET CRUUUUUUUNNNNNK”. And so began the best holiday of all time.




I didn’t think it would begin so quickly, but we’re back with TRIPLE H BEATING UP HIS CHILD. I think he’s angry that Stephanie must have slept with their Mexican gardener and produced this child. .. Ok, I lied; he’s taking it to Rey Mysterio. Ha ha, FUNNY! These two men encompass the bulk of the match, actually, with Rey (obviously) playing the face in peril. However, Rey knocks HHH off the top rope, and lands a nice moonsault. Remember when this shit was common for Rey? Sigh. Anyways, Orton and Cena get the luke-warm tags, and Cena quickly lands the Proto-plex, 5 Knuckle Shuffle, and an FU. However, Haitch hits a Nuclear Pedigree (tm Sean) on his own partner, and … eventually… tosses Orton on for the cover. However, being a man of honour – despite that whole “illegal border crossing” thing -, Rey breaks the pinfall up at 2. This gets Hunter all mad and stuff, so he turns the Mexican Jumping Bean into refried beans with a pedigree as well. This leads to Angle and HHH brawling, and Orton RKO’s Angle just to further the clusterfuckness of it all. During this, Cena counters an RKO into a roll up, and we have an end to this madness.


Winners: Triple H & John Cena




James Walker Triv Bit: My current employment is Clinical Studies. No, that’s not a fancy area of study, but it’s actually me gettting injected with stuff, and I let doctors monitor my pulse rate & such. The last one was this stress inducing hormone, and I got paid $125. I totally spent that all on booze, too.




We’re back with Hall of Fame stuff, and I just have to say that I’m slightly miffed about Eddie Guerrero going in the same year as Bret. I mean, I love Eddie as much as any other fan, but did they have to induct him the year Bret was going in? I’m sorry, but this just soils the legacy of BOTH men, as neither man will get the spotlight they deserved. The ironic thing is, Dusty isn’t going in this year because, get this: Vince feels that Dusty Rhodes would take the spotlight from Bret Hart and Eddie Guerrero. The only way that I’ll agree with that is if he meant it literally.


In the locker room, we find out that Booker T tweaked his knee and needs an MRI, thus canceling his match. Darn, I was SO looking forward to that, too! You know, injury angles are alright once in a while, but when Booker pulls them every freakin’ month, they get more tired than road kill. Just sayin’.




I can’t help to notice that the IC, US, World Tag, WWE Tag, and Cruiserweight champions aren’t seeing action tonight – yet, Candice Michelle is. Something is very, very, very wrong with that.




We’re back with Lita & Edge coming down the ramp. (Notice the pun? It really wasn’t that good, but hey, I don’t get paid for this) Lita feels it necessary to introduce Edge, which just sort of Patronizes the audience. Edge points out that the ring is littered with hardcore paraphernalia... because NOTHING says hardcore like ALUMINUM TRASH CANS! Somewhere, Tommy Dreamer is rolling in his grave. He’s not dead yet? Oh well, when you’re working for WWE head office, you’ve got to be at least brain dead, sooo…


Edge points out that the weapons are supposed to inspire Mick Foley to become someone worthy of him beating up. Uhh, isn’t this the guy who just destroyed Goldust on Raw? Anyways, all these comments prompt Foley to come out with a bag of tacks. In maybe the biggest scene of WWE redundancy, Edge lights a table on fire... and a stage hand puts it out. What the hell, man. Anyways, we see a brawl, which thanks to a Lita chair shots, sees Edge land a face buster into the tacks! However, Foley no-sells it, chases Edge up the ramp, and there manages to land a one-man conchairto. Foley smiles, with tacks still riddled into his face. Looks like the Terminator going through puberty, if you ask me.




If you’re getting bored of this recap, go visit Joe, Derek, Justin, or Sean’s latest works. If you aren’t getting bored of this recap, please send me money. Those stress hormones have got me all uppity, and in the words of Ken Shamrock, I’M GONNA SNAP~!




We get a nifty video of the HBK VS Shane/Vince feud. Many people are questioning how in kayfabe did HBK produce that much urine that quickly, but I think that in his age, HBK actually has a colostomy bag that he simply emptied. And you thought that the idea of Chyna’s breast implants popping mid match was bad…


We see Booker T exiting the shower – why he needed to have a shower after a GRUELING segment of holding his knee is beyond me, but whatever – and bragging about pulling one over Teddy’s eyes. However, his celebration ends when Boogey uses his electrical wiring skills to get the lights all spooky & red, and then goes Batman on us by hanging down from the ceiling and being all creepy and such. Booker runs along, like a SCALDED DOG, BY GAWD.


A nice little Wrestlemania video sends us to another commercial break.




Did you know that shortest living animal is a Gastrotrich, which lives to about 3 days? Did you know that the WWE’s “Hirohito” character nearly beat that species out?




We’re back with JBL cutting a promo. And can you believe it, he’s actually INSULTING THE CITY THEY ARE IN! Well I never!


Aaaaand here’s Austin, out to a (rightfully deserved) monster pop. He comes out in a truck, burns out on the stage, and for a few moments, all is well in the world of wrestling. The crowd is going ape shit for the guy, and even the smark in me goes off to the bathroom while I reminisce about the Attitude era. Austin barely gets started into his promo, when he asks why JBL challenged him. Bradshaw retorts by saying that it’s because Austin didn’t consider him one of the great Texans, and that “In Texas, there are two things. The Alamo and JBL!” The two men ad-lib a little, and Austin says that JBL is bigger than him, so he needed to get some practice in this morning. To do so, he called room service, and ordered one egg, and two pitchers of beer. Unfortunately, when room service walked in, they say a beat-up hooker, and called the cops on him. Man, if only that last part were true.


JBL gets all angry, and drops a piece of soap, hoping that Austin will pick it up. He doesn’t, so I guess I can stop lying now. Anyways, he says he “got some good Canadian beer”, to which my garbage can from last night can surely attest to. The rules are 25 beers for each man, and whoever can drink the most wins. Though, I have to say, why bother with 25 limit? It’d be like Hitler telling his troops to only kill one family per day, and we all know how much JBL idolizes Hitler…


JBL says that this isn’t Brokeback Mountain, and that he’s a real cowboy. In a hilariously subtle shoot comment, Austin replies with “No Comment.” Couldn’t have said it better myself. la old west, the men start back to back, and chug as much beer as they can. However, the nefarious heel dumps the beer on his granite (whale blubber?) chest, and Austin catches him. JBL gets a cheap shot in, takes a hike, but Chris Benoit conveniently shows up to toss JBL back into the ring. Austin puts on JBL’s hat, and one stunner later, the fans are relatively happy.




I like traffic lights, I like traffic lights, I like traffic lights, no matter where they've been. I like traffic lights, I like traffic lights, I like traffic lights, I like traffic lights, I like traffic lights, but only when they're green.


He likes traffic lights, he likes traffic lights, he likes traffic lights, no matter where they've been. He likes traffic lights, he likes traffic lights, he likes traffic lights, but only when they're green.

I like traffic lights, I like traffic lights, I like traffic lights, that is what I said. I like traffic lights, I like traffic lights, I like traffic lights, but not when they are red.

He likes traffic lights, he likes traffic lights, that is what he said. He likes traffic lights, he likes traffic lights, he likes traffic lights, he likes traffic lights, he likes traffic lights, but not when they are red.

I like traffic lights, I like traffic lights, I like traffic lights, although my name's not Bamber.

I like traffic lights, I like traffic lights, I like traffic lights, I...Oh God!


... *whistles*




You know, it’s been over an hour, and we’ve only had one match. This ain’t your daddy’s SNME… your retarded cousin’s SNME.


Candice Michelle & Victoria VS Trish Stratus & Mickie James


So, on a card with now three matches, one of them is this? That’s like ordering some of those infomercial knives, and they says “You get all this, plus MUCH MORE”, but the “much more” turns out to be a cheap plastic key chain and 70 dollars more for shipping. Trish dominates Candice from the beginning (no complaints from me), but Victoria takes advantage of Trish (once again, no complaints) and gets in. Vicky even manages to bust out her slingshot somersault leg drop, which gets a 2. Hey, remember when these two had a great series of matches? Also, remember when the women’s title meant something? I wonder if those two things are related in any way. Vicky has control, and Trish gets the tag, but the ref was distracted by the massive amounts of silicone in this match – and really, who can blame him? Vicky and Candice go for a double suplex or something of the sort, but Trish counters into a nice double DDT. Vicky hits Mickie off the apron, but this allows Trish to land the Stratusfaction for the 3 count.


Winner: Trish Stratus and Mickie James – who did SO much in this match!


Post match, Mickie has a mic (shitty word puns are still cool, right?). Well, it’s gonna happen now. Either we get a heel turn, or a GIANT LESBIAN MAKE OUT SESSION. Guess which one I’m hoping for. Anyways, Mickie says it looks like it’s time for goodbye, so she shakes Trish’s hand... kisses her cheek… hugs her… lathers her up in baby oil as Barry White plays… oh, sorry, sometimes I fantasize while I masturbate. Anyways, this leads to Mickie turning around and nailing a Chick Kick, and then screams “DO YOU LOVE ME NOW?”, and I respond “ONLY IF YOU TAKE YOUR TOP OFF!” Seriously, I did.




So, the WWE had an incredibly successful (financial) quarter. And how do they spend this money? Why, be rehiring CHUCK PALUMBO. That’s like feeding your Thanksgiving leftovers to Scott Keith.




Apparently, Mickie said some stuff during the commercial break on WWE Unlimited. I spent the commercial break questioning why I sat alone in a dark room and watched wrestling on a Saturday Night. Then I drank a beer, and I was happy again. Funny how that works out.


Anyways, we’re back with Mark Henry flooding the ring with his sweat. Daivari cuts a promo for him, and then Henry takes the mic and cuts a promo, I think. But his lips are too big to actually say anything coherent, so he may have been ordering a pizza.


This brings out the Undertaker, who, I swear, grows a 5 O’clock shadow as he walks to the ring. Behind him is a casket getting wheeled by druids. I doubt these actors were hard to find – with Detroit’s high rate of murders, I’m sure their population is plenty adjusted to carrying coffins.


Eventually, Taker brawls with Henry, and then the two men end up at ring side. Taker ends up tossing Henry over the barrier, and Daivari eats a chokeslam on the Casket. That isn’t enough though, so Daivari gets Tombstoned on top of the casket.


Well… that was useless.




Looking at Daivari’s WWE.com bio (http://www.wwe.com/superstars/smackdown/daivari/profile/), there’s no mention of Muhammed Hassan. Fancy that.




Shane McMahon w/Vince McMahon VS Shawn Michaels w/Jesus; Street Fight


Whenever the WWE has a street fight, I always wonder if Blanka is going to run in and electrofry some people. One can dream. These two fire off from the beginning, with HBK attacking as Shane makes his entrance. They waste no time in getting to the hardcore aspect, as HBK grabs a chair from under the ring and lays it into Shane’s forehead. This gives Michaels a chance to set up a table. HBK goes back for Shane, but he eats steel post. Shane then grabs another table, and I have to wonder why so many tables are hidden under WWE rings. Maybe there’s a buffet after the show? That would explain why RVD isn’t on the card – he’ll be too busy dishing out potatoes later tonight. Anyways, Shane also grabs a ladder. Vince tosses Shawn on the tables as Shane climbs, but HBK fends Vince off, and climbs the ladder… Superplex of the ladder, through two tables! Shane, you’re freakin’ nuts, and I love you.




I’m sorry, but every time I write a show recap, I find it increasingly difficult to write these commercial ditties. It won’t stop me of course, but the fact remains, I spend just about as much time on these as the rest of the recap. You’d think I’d have better things to do – but I really, really don’t. Pity.




We’re back, and we see replay after replay of the table bump. The EMT’s get ushered away, and HBK climbs the top rope, and then up to the top of the ladder. But Vince reaches under the ring, and finds a kendo stick. You know, I could make a joke about how the WWE hired an all-ninja ring crew, but I won’t. Vince lays into HBK, and then Shane drops the ladder a few times on him for good measure. A stiff ladder shot follows, but it only gets a 2 count. Rest hold, and then HBK seems to have control, but a Vince distraction leads to DDT for yet another 2 count. HBK slowly gets up, and Shane meets him with a huge chair shot. He’s setting up for the “Coast To Coast”, which JR calls that “Terminator type move”. While Vince holds the trash can in place, Shane climbs.. but HBK awkwardly manages to switch positions, and Vince ends up eating the move. HBK begins his five moves of doom (forearm, kip up, atomic drop, body slam, elbow drop), and stomps his foot. I know we mention it a lot on this site, but why don’t people just roll out of the ring as he starts to tune up the band? And why is it called “Tuning up the band”? Sounds like he Michaels would be better suited for leading some uniformed trumpet players in an Independence Day parade or something.


Anywho, Sweet Chin Music lands, but only gets a 2 count thanks to Vince pulling out the ref. This distraction allows Shane to hit a low blow on Michaels, lock in the sharpshooter, and Vince calls for the bell. Wheee, haven’t seen that before.


Winner: Shane McMahon


Post match, the McMahons smile and stuff, while I sneer.


Show Highlight: Either the table-bump, or the beer drinking segment. The former for obvious reasons, and the latter because Austin and JBL really let loose on the mic and had a good time. Honourable mention goes to the Foley-face full of tacks.


Show Lowlight: It would be easy to pick out a lot of simple stuff, but I have to say the whole aura itself was the worst part of this show. It was more like a show as if the brand-split ended yesterday, not the SNME it should have been. They could have had an awesome throwback to the old style show, but the WWE stubbornly insisted that their “hip & slick” style is what people want to see. I think they’re wrong.


Overall, it’ll be interesting to see the ratings for this show; we really don’t know what to expect. In good conscience, I can’t give this show a thumbs up. However, the bright spots worked well, but still aren’t able to convince me otherwise. Thumbs slightly down.


Ok kids, I’m out. Don’t forget to send Carless some birthday porn wishes, he has nothing else to live for.

Send feedback to James Walker

James Walker is pretty much the best thing ever. I mean, sure, there's been Terminator, grilled cheese sandwiches, and naked women storms, but TWF's resident comic relief takes the cake. Seriously, he actually goes to children's birthday parties and grabs it just as it's being brought out. Never the less, a proud owner of a Golden Tenay and an incredibly large penis, James Walker strives for one thing in life: RACIAL EQUALITY, NIGGUH.

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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.).