Hey there, Rasslin nuts, I'm your venerable host Sean Carless, and welcome to Summer Slam! WWE's answer to the summer games! Only unlike the Olympics, Batista won’t be expected to piss into a cup before he's allowed to compete. Lucky him.
Anyhoo, tonight’s pay-per-view comes to us from Toronto-- the land that once convinced Vince that another Hulk Hogan World title reign was a good idea. Meh. Why couldn't Bin Laden have aimed for the CN Tower in 2001 and saved us that grief? I mean, come on, it's a bigger building! Ahem.
Onto the show~!
Paul London, Billy Kidman & Rey Mysterio vs. The Dudleys (Spike, D-Von and Bubba Ray)
Am I the only one who’s noticed that “Boyz” has been dropped from the Dudleys intro? Am I the only one who cares? Probably. Apparently you're only allowed to have the word "boy" as your moniker in this company if you're well over forty years old. Makes sense to me.
Anyway, Kidman and London are apparently the "real deal" as a team now, because they finally have matching outfits . Only they looked like they mugged AJ Styles to get them. How very un-phenomenal of them. Poor AJ. I get the visual of him laying somewhere, naked, face down on the floor, unconscious, and alone. He's just lucky he works for TNA and not WWE. There's a few people here whose names rhyme with Pat Patterson who just might take advantage of a situation like that. Penis.
Wait, there’s a match going on here! And it’s very good! London actually stands out here, and in turn actually manages to get a few "oohs" and "ahhs" out of a crowd who probably throws their own grandmothers down the stairs for fun. Then they take the insurance money collected from her death and buy a few Hulk Hogan T-Shirts... BECAUSE THEY'RE LIVING IN THE PAST, BRUTHER.
From there, London pretty much plays Ricky Morton in peril, only sans mullet, and a wallet full of cash, and not having a running taxi waiting when child support payments are due, taking the majority of the punishment. It's just then I realize that the babyface team is arguably the lightest six-man tag team in history, and I laugh at the irony that all 3 men combined still weigh less than most of the writers in the IWC by themselves. I then remember I'm a part of that very same IWC and die a little inside. While eating and not getting laid.
Eventually, a hot tag is made, and a virtual cornucopia of cruiserweight funneries batters Little Spike into semi-submission, leaving him prey for a Rey-Rey 619 and a follow-up Kidman shooting star press. And since it's not Wrestlemania, it ACTUALLY CONNECTS~! Kidman then goes to cover, but gets pulled out by a swollen D-Von to break the pin attempt. Long story short, Kidman eats a 3D by the brothers Dudley, and Spike collects the pin. I'd point out the irony of an incredibly one dimensional Billy Kidman jobbing to a Three dimensional finish, but I'm not that kind of guy. Oh wait. Yes I am.
Winners: Bubba, D-Von and. our friend, Spike Dudley-- 150 pounds, no shirt, unruly facial hair and a load of trouble. You may have seen that episode of Cops. Every week. Forever.
-Video package for Kane/Matt Hardy/Lita. WWE teaches us the life lesson that in order to save your boyfriend's life, it's always smarter to barter yourself for sex with a stalker... and don't even bother to insist the guy wear a condom. What could go wrong? (and hey, since when do they sell maternity pants at Hot Topic?).
Matt Hardy w/ Pajamas (and Lita) vs. Kane w/ the glow of a proud papa via blackmail rape; "Till death do us part match."
As Lita + her toasted bun in the oven makes her way to the ring, Jerry Lawler astutely points out that a now several month pregnant woman is starting to “show”. It’s been three months, Jerry. This shit does happen. Jesus Christ. Obviously, someone never read “Our Bodies, Ourselves”….then subsequently masturbated to it because he couldn’t find his Dad’s skin mags anywhere, and the Sears catolgue was sealed closed. Wait, forget I said that….
Anyway, Matt decidedly takes it to Kane early-- to save Lita the indignity of having to marry a seven foot demon--by using a flurry of wrestling action! Yes, I’d think if my woman's indentured services as a cock puppet was at stake, I might just do a little more than that; like say running over Kane with a fucking truck or something. But hey, why murder a monster who raped your girlfriend when you can apply HEADLOCKS. That's clearly the better discourse. Cauliflower ears > pulling a nine, clearly.
That said, te match itself is relatively short, but this is to be expected considering Matt’s injured knee.
After a few hope spots, (and not just "I hope this feud fucking dies already") the match finally ends when Matt, like a total trooper, takes a very stiff top-rope chokeslam to lose the match... and his girlfriend, as is customary in all walks of life. It's true. Just the other day, I saw this happily engaged couple, so I surprised the boyfriend with a quick Oklahoma roll, and now I'm the one getting married! And you're all invited! True story.
But seriously, poor Matt. I feel for you, buddy. But hey, think of the money you’ll save on child support, dude! And hey, there was still a 50/50 chance your first born would be delivered into this world wearing a lucha mask anyway (FISHMAN'S BOYS CASN SWIM! IT'S NOT JUST A NAME!), so no harm, no foul. Or fowl. ' Cause she probably fucked Hector Guerrero at some point, too. Those Mexicans all look alike~!
So, ya, there are no losers here! Except the woman who has to give birth to a one eyed baby who can produce fire from his hands. I'd maybe take having a cesarean into consideration. Just saying.
Winner: Kane. (and he didn’t have to blow money on a fucking ring, either!). You are the MAN, Kane. Don’t let anyone ever tell you any different.
-After the bout, Kane tries to embrace his future bride, but much like most women with my advances, Lita chooses to run away in complete horror. Maybe it's because I'm wearing all black, carrying rope, duct tape, it's midnight and they don't know me? Who knows. I'm not a mind reader.
-Randy Orton is interviewed backstage by Tard Grisham, but stops in mid-promo, and like me, I automatically assume he’s taken aback by Todd’s stylish emo-glasses for which I too am fascinated. But no, it’s John Cena, and the two share a moment. Wow, can a match between these two be far behind? Can it be? Please?
Booker T. vs. John Cena, First match in the Best mediocre of seven series (No U.S. Title at stake)
Here were go, a battle between my two favorite African American WWE Superstars!
All kidding aside, I like Cena, I really do, but West Newbury ain't exactly "the 'Hood", despite what WWE will have you believe now. In fact, the only Drive-by's you'll see there, is aging white suburbanites looking for the best garage sales in the neighborhood. And the only "pieces" they have, are their toupees, which you can spot a mile away on their negro-free golf courses. Yup.
Anyway, T.O. crowd is really behind Cena here, and the two talk trash to start. It's true. John Cena argues the benefit of biodegradable bags while Booker defends the continued practice of using landfills. Or not. I don't care.
As for the match? I don't know. I went to go eat cookie dough straight from the tube and missed 3/4's of it. I think it went something like this, though: SPINEBUSTER, THEN UNREALISTIC GIMMICK MOVE WHERE YOU POSTURE FOR THIRTY SECONDS THEN HIT A NON-IMPACT BLOW, AS A DUDE DOES NOT JUST MOVE OUT OF THE WAY.
So, anyway, after attempting the lethality that is the spinaroonie, Cena pretty much just scoops Booker's ass up and FU him out of nowhere to get the win. When will black on black crime end, yo? YOU'RE BROTHERS. Start acting like it.
[Sean's note from 2007: They actually shortened the series mysteriously to just a "best of 5" soon after, with two falls mysteriously disappearing from recorded history. Perhaps they took place in Rio De Janeiro? That place seems to always get the big matches~! What gives!].
Winner: John Cena. (only 6 more matches to go, yo!). Loser: Some dude I just saw in the crowd with inflatable Cena Word-life hands. I guess the new "WWE, guess who's never been laid?" T-shirt was all sold out? Pity. I'd love to own a piece of clothing that made it official.
(C)"Triple Edge" vs. Batista vs. Y2J; Triple threat match for Intercontinental Title;
Huh. I guess Edge *finally* figured out that perhaps the best way to get a huge push in this company is to actually PHYSICALLY TRANSFORM ONE'S SELF INTO TRIPLE H. Dear lord, the transformation is scary. And as for Triple H himself, well, if Edge all of a sudden gets the hankering for some "big-boned ladies", we may FINALLY see someone else in a World Title match~! Beware, Steph. If you see him bouncing on the spot in the corner of the room waiting for you to turn around with no pants, just run!
[Sean's note from 2007: I don't know what I was thinking there. Edge, steal another man's woman? Like That'd NEVER happen!].
Anyway, first and foremost, I must say that Batista looked uncharacteristically oily tonight. Kind of like what a piece of KFC first looks like when they pull it out of the fryer. Edge & Y2J probably didn't know whether to pin him, or have him served with a blob of potato salad. That being said, this was another short but good match, but in my opinion the whole “triple threat” shtick is getting old, fast. Why is standard offense so much more lethal when there's one other fucking dude out there? If I was booked in one of these, I'd wear tights made entirely out of whatever the black boxes on airplanes are made of, and carry some Nodoze on me when I get LETHALLY tossed over the ropes, just to be careful.
By the way, it has to be said: the crowd absolutely SHIT on Edge... and this was his HOMETOWN! Fucking Toronto. Hell, even ECW crowds circa 1995 are saying “Hey, what a bunch of assholes these guys are! Show some respect! They're working hard out there!" Good luck ever getting that chant started again, though.
A good little match here anyway that saw all three men get their stuff in, including Batista's CLOTHESLINE OF DEATH on Jericho. Edge then takes Batista down with a tornado DDT. Animal cruelty! Edge looks for the flying hug from there, but Jericho intervenes and stops it, because Edge's hugs are DEADLY. Christmas-time is always the most awkward day of the year in the Copeland house. He kills 2 or 3 relatives a season with it. It's true!
wants a hug from their Uncle Adam?"
Nephews: " Please, No!!! They feel like dying!!!..."
Anyway, the c rowd seemed rabid for a Y2J win (or even a Batista win) so of course they get Edge, who pins Jericho with the spear to retain the title afterJerichohad just spring-board dropkicked Batista off the apron and back into the Colonel's two piece combo.
After the win, Jerry Lawler tries to explain that this reaction is only happening because Toronto is the Bizarro World. But if that was reallythe case, that'd mean there'd have to be a Jerry Lawler living here that was repulsed at the very thought of having sex with 14 year old girls, AMIRITE? I'm surprised he'd even bother bringing it up...
Winner & STILL Champion: Edge, who likely is putting on his "I love Tampa" T-shirt as we speak and having no second thoughts about it. You thought you knew him.
Kurt Angle w/ Luther vs. Eddie Guerrero w/o Dobber.
This was a FANTASTIC match and watching it you’d never even known Kurt was off for almost 6 months. You remember , from being "THROWN TO HIS DEATH" by the Big Show? Funny, usually when I'm tossed thirty feet head first onto concrete, I tend to die, and not return to action a handful of months later like nothing happened. But, hey, who knows? Maybe Show whispered in his ear on the way down his super-secret way to survive plunges off roofs?
Anyway, they start with a lot of mat work which Eddie surprisingly dominates, but Kurt regains the advantage after Luther gets involved and kicks Eddie in the head... and since Reigns last name isn’t “Jones” or “Tomko” the kick actually connects ! Keep this Horshu around, he’s good people!... good people and an anal rapist, hopefully. But only because I want to hear the expression "He has a horshu up his ass!" and laugh and laugh and laugh because it'd be true, you see.
The story here itself is Eddie’s “boot” in any event. (at WM 20, Eddie slithered out of the Anklelock when it came off, eventually winning the match, and they tried to use the same psychology here). As the match progressed, Angle finally removed it himself to add pressure to the ankle lock, which is a hold he kept going back to. I'd have maybe tried deportation papers myself. Why not? Fucker is an admitted thief and liar! That shit has to break some sort of immigration rule!
Finishing sequence from there ended up seeing Eddie first miss a frog splash, (No water in the pool! And there wasn't even any relatives waiting with a dinghy either!), and Angle gets the Angle Slam from there-- which I always assumed was mastered by all members of his family, lest it best be known as the "Kurt Slam" ....
Kurt: "Hi Mom. It's been a while. Wait, why are you floating behind? oh sh..BLARRRRRRGGGH".
....Oh ya, the Slam connects but Eddie kicks out at two. (dos?). Angle then accidentally bumps the ref, so Eddie takes the boot and nails Kurt right between the eyes. He then goes up and frog splashes Kurt...but he STILL kicks out! "Your splash may work on other Amphibians, Eddie Guerrero, but it's no match for a human Kurt Angle!" Kurt then suddenly grabs Eddie's foot and applies the anklelock, and uh oh, there's the heel hook. Good bye (Adios?), Eddie. Tap out. And if you listen close enough it was to the beat of Calienete music. Only with more anguish and suffering. But not much more.
Great match. And it was probably best to have Angle go over to re-build his stock. Now if only they could rebuild Kurt himself. Motherfucker's head is probably just being held on by duct tape now.
Winner: Kurt Angle; the man who made us believe all guys in wheel chairs are secretly feigning their condition! Quick, someone tip Christopher Reeve over and see what happens!
HHH vs. Eugene;
Cerebral assassin vs. cerebral….cortex damage ? I don’t know.
Anyway, like I suspected, Toronto turned on Eugene, proving they don’t even have sympathy for retards here either. In fact, after they got done booing Eugene, they probably beat up the guy who played “Corky” from Life Goes On and dumped his lifeless body in an alley behind the A.C.C., then went and pushed a blind guy onto the subway tracks, rubbed an ice cream cone in a diabetic's face, hand-cuffed a deaf guy so all he could do is mumble before going back home and watching Hulk Hogan vs. The Rock looping over and over again on their VCRs and masturbating to it whilst cupping their hands to the ears. I know I did.
In Eugene ’s defense, though, he remained steadfast in his character and pretty much ignored the crowd. Funny, in real-life, disabled people have a bit harder time ignoring their tormentors. Of course, I'm usually chasing them with my car at the time. But my point still stands. Even if they don't when I'm done.
WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE IN THIS RANT!
Anyway, the match goes on, goes back and forth, and nothing is getting over. Even HHH re-enacting pages 1-300 of the big book of generic heel offense (shoving a woman and “feigning” an injury) did not work. They still chose to cheer HHH anyway. Although, HHH is big and orange, so that may explain the love somewhat...
From there, Eugene took it to HHH after escaping several Pedigree attempts by Trips, then hit a flurry of moves, including the Rock bottom, the Stunner (Stone Cold Steve Autism?) and finally a PEDIGREE of his own-- but HHH still kicked out; because he, and he alone is impervious to its nuclear-like power. And he didn't even have to wear on of those Homer Simpson nuclear suits either. Go figure.
At this point, Ric Flair now makes his way to the ring, but so does William Regal! Flair ends up getting K.O.’d by William Regal from there, who drops Slick Ric with the “power of the punch”. Unfortunately though, Regal wasn’t quick enough to save a distracted Eugene from HHH’s ‘power of the paunch” and Eugene eats a pedigree from pudgy Hunter and gets pinned.
Winner: HHH. Loser: Anyone who thinks raising a special needs child in Toronto is a good idea…
Well, we featured a pregnant woman earlier, so it's only natural we get our ABORTION. You gotta know I’m talking about Diva’s dodgeball! A.K.A.: the reason why RVD is passed out in bowl of Fritos backstage and not actually wrestling on the PPV. Although, in 30 minutes, he'll still insist he did. DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDE~!
With that said, team captain Carmella De(someethniclastnameIcan’tremember) is surprisingly missing from her squad-- which stinks, because if anyone knows about trying to avoid having balls slap them in the face it’d definitely be a Playboy model. They could have really used her out there! Or had all had taudry group sex. I'm open either way.
Anyhoo, it was at about at this point that I realized I’m recapping a FUCKING DODGEBALL GAME and stop.
Bottom line is, the Diva hopefuls actually wipe the floor with the “divas”, as I laugh at the fact that Gail Kim even blows spots in fucking Dodgeball. Haha, her hat fell off. This sucks. I’m done.
That said, after the game, Trish and Victoria finally get into it, and a FEUD is actually birthed from a game of DODGEBALL! Much like it was in the early turn of the century with Hackenschmidt and Gotch. True story.
Winners: The Diva Search girls. And I didn't even get to make my sexist joke about the Five Double D's of dodgeball. But hey, look , I just did. Ya. This match still needed more Rip Torn and dodging wrenches, though, and less, well, everything else.
Undertaker vs. (C) JBL w/ Orlando Jordan ; WWE Championship;
Ah, the battle between two men best known for burying “stiffs”. With Taker being dead bodies, and Bradshaw unfortunately choosing to bury his in the tender asses of the rookie WWE locker room. (HIS FINGERS SMELL LIKE BILLY SILVERMAN AND DESPERATION!). But hey, all joking aside, I realize he probably never went that far , but hey, once you soap a dude's ass, you pretty much open the floodgates (ass cheeks?) for these kinds of jokes FOREVER. Seriously.
Anyway, a very old time feel to this one--and by that I mean 'original man first crawling from the priomordial ooze'. That was the pace. Seriously. I think I just saw wooly mammoths stop existing.
That said, in this match, the two actually work body parts…despite it eventually having no bearing on the result of the match. Some people might ask "then why do it?", but you know, once you RECAP A FUCKING DODGEBALL GAME ON A WRESTLING PAY-PER-VIEW, small things like this tend to lose their meaning. Kind of like my life right now. And for the record, I think Undertaker honestly needs to decide once and for all if he is a “zombie” or an MMA fighter. I mean, isn't he supposed to be a monster? When was the last time you saw Jason Voorhees or Michael Myers explode into a fucking triangle choke? ( And good luck wielding an axe with those big assed gloves, too.).
Anyhoo, a very boring match-- so much so, that the crowd would rather do the wave then even watch. Clearly this means WWE has chosen the right man to hold their (used to be) most prestigious Title! I mean, he's self-made, obnoxious, rich, and a bully. I wonder what Vince even sees in him! Oh.
As for the match itself, eventually, the ref gets bumped (which is the law in WWE Title matches) allowing JBL's Chief of Staff, Orlando Jordan-- the only rookie in wrestling history to VOLUNTARILY agree to sit on JBL's staff-- to get involved, *distracting* Undertaker so JBL can then hit the Clothesline from Hell's Kitchen on him. Jordan then physically forces the unconscious ref to make the count. 1... 2... Come on. Really? You know Taker still kicks out, because, you know, he's a corpse and stuff and can't die or something! It's true, and I don't even know why he even bothers to sell anymore. I mean if being lit on fire, crushed, buried, suffocated and god knows what else can't kill him, your little colthesline's gotta a real shot this time! Keep reachin' for that rainbow!
From there, Undertaker ends up eventually rallying, and gets a modified “Last Ride”... but Super Bradshaw still kicks out. HAVING A BIT MORE MONEY has suddenly given him the ability to not be pinned by people's lethal finishers? Ok then. Taker then retrieves the title belt brought into the ring by Orlando Jordan and stupidly hits JBL with it to draw a DQ-- because God knows, when a match is bombing this fucking bad, it's always best to give the already infuriated fans a screwjob finish, too! What the shit.
Winner by DQ: JBL. Immediately after the match, to add to the Toronto's screwjob, Vince prank calls Bret Hart and pretends to be an still-alive Owen, HBK sneaks into the Hart house and applies sharpshooters to all his relatives as Earl Hebner rings a makeshift bell, and Shane McMahon runs over Hulk Hogan with a limo as HHH rapes the corpse while tearing off his shirt. All in a day's work, T.O...
- Oh, ya, after the match, Taker destroys JBL, throwing him through the windshield of his limo before choke-slamming him through on the roof altogether. I'll have to try that on a rich guy sometime for shits and giggles. Well, if I can convince him to jump with my with chokeslam. STOP SANDBAGGING, YOU.
-Wrestlemania XXI vignette. WRESTLEMANIA GOES HOLLYWOOD. Well, if by "Hollywood" you mean fucking Jonathan Taylor Thomas, Nick Turturro and Elvira. I guess "Wrestlemania Goes To That Part Of The Video Store You Forgot Existed" doesn't have the same ring. Go figure.
(C)Chris Benoit w/ home country crowd support? vs. Randy Orton w/ a helluva lot of chinlocks; World Heavyweight Title match;
Fun fact: This is the first RAW World Title match without Trips to main-event a PPV.
Funner Fact: There's nothing we can ever do to change that.
Funnest Fact: This and the previous facts are in no way fun. In fact, they're completely fucking depressing.
The obvious premise of this match was to make a “star” out of Orton much like they did with Brock Lesnar. And it worked-- at least on this night. I guess we should begin to worry though if by this time next year, we catch Orton clutching an NFL program to his chest, and asking Vince what the market value of a plane is these days...
Anyway, the crowd seemed kind of dead by this point, as even the appearance of the Home Country boy-- who loved this winter wonderland so much he packed up for Atlanta, never to return-- didn't do much to sway them unfortunately. Imagine that.
Great back in forth match here, though, that really did a good job putting Orton over as credible, while Benoit remained tenacious like the noble fighting squirrel he is. Or Wolverine. Or whatever. Does Atlanta even have Wolverines? White people?
Anyway, from there, Benoit ended up taking a couple of sick bumps in this one with the first being a tope to the barricade, and 2nd being a diving head-butt attempt face first into Randy’s boot. YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG. Eventually, Benoit rallies, and looks to have things wrapped up himself when he delivers more Germans than a Hasselhoff concert, then applying the crossface--but don't raise Benoit's arm yet!--and not just because it's only 6 inches long and it'd be awakward -- because Orton is not done! Somehow, he escapes the crossface, and once both are vertical, they exchange several counters before Randy suddenly spins Benoit into the RKO. 123. Over. And if you listen close enough, you can actually hear Scott Keith running a hot bath and rifling through his drawers looking for a razor.
After the match, Benoit returns to the ring and extends his hand. I think he does anyway. It basically just looked like the Hamburger Helper mitt growing out of his shoulder. Benoit then demands that Randy shake it and "be a man!"; although, it could be that Benoit just really enjoyed the rap-stylings of one Randy Savage. And who can blame him? Those beats are dope. Or at least require copious amounts of it to tolerate.
Anyway, long (long) story short, Orton finally accepts; a show of respect is seen, and Randy continues his celebration with the obligatory tears of joy, celebrating the fact that he’s now the fake youngest World Champion EVER!!! (It was really Tommy Rich, but it’s probably best we forget about that).
Winner: Randy Orton. Loser: Any overweight teenage girl online who makes RKO message board banners and thinks Randy would ever even talk to them. Why is it that most semi-good looking celebrities tend to have the ugliest fans? (It's mean, but it's true.), you know, while the ugliest celebrities seem to attract some of the best looking trim out there? It's a MYSTERY..... Full of changes no one sees. God makes a fool of history. I see the line in the sand, time to find out who I am. OK, I'm just singing the Evolution theme song now, and have completely segued out of my previous useless statement. Whatever. But what the hell, it is a catchy tune, so I feel little guilt. EVOOOOOLLLLUTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTION!
Final Thoughts: Retards getting sacrificed, hometown boys being run out of town on a rail, wolverines euthanized, grim reapers assaulting millionaires, strippers getting balls in the face, and the crowning of a fake youngest champion ever. What more could you want? A crowd that'd respect what they are watching, instead of doing the fucking wave? A Recapper who'd call the matches instead of just making jokes because he was so stoned he can't remember one actual hold on the show? Umm, probably. Good show, though...if you watch it on mute. And for once, I'm not saying that because of the commentary. Thumbs up.
THE TWF "MENTAL WELLNESS TEST!"
With Christmas just around the corner, what better way to spend your few remaining dollars (left over after the seemingly infinite line-up of fucking pay-per-views ) then on the following "quality WWE merchandise!" After all, if they don't move this stuff, and fast, stockholders just might get time to figure out what "plummeting domestic buyrates" means!... and well, I don't think they need to tell you what that means! (Seriously. They're not telling you. Everything is fine! Ahem.).