Hey there, Fuckies, and welcome to The Survivor Series. A night of survivors, surviving and survival; not to be confused with a certain CBS reality show that JUST WILL NOT DIE despite the fact that people have been basically watching the exact same fucking show for like 7 years straight. Not that wrestling and Survivor don't have their similarities, though. Both feature shirtless guys running around doing ridiculous things, nonsensical stunts, and terrible acting; however, no one eats rats in the WWE. They just fuck them after the show.
Tonight's show comes to us from Detroit
Michigan, which I hear is just a stone's throw away from
Sabu's *no-at-all fictional* hometown of Bombay
Michigan. ECW so wouldn’t lie to us.
Your announcers for this evening are Joey “I swear, I’m just a fill in…..FOREVER” Styles, Jerry Lawler, and The Coach for RAW; TAZZ and Cole for SD; and Hugo and Carlos for our Hispanic friends, who've never heard an entire PPV broadcast that didn't end in an explosion then immediate dead air. It's a wonder anyone orders pay-per-views anymore there. The last thing they hear at 10:45 each month is "Welcome to the our Mai Ev...BLARGGHH".
Onto the show~!
Booker T. w/ Sharmell w/ bobbling head and twirling
hand Vs. Chris Benoit w/o tooth (and contract): First
match in the Best of Seven Series for the vacant
Obviously, Booker has been relegated to the U.S. Title scene, because he ran out of fingers in which to count potential World Titles with. So, unless Booker can get his hands on some uranium or something to radioactively produce that miracle 6th finger, I think we’ve pretty much seen the last major Title for the Book-man. What a shame.
Sean's Edit from 2006: Heh. Shows what I know. Not only did he get another Title, but he still has only five fingers. Although six would have definitely came in handy, no doubt. Had he had that sixth digit, he'd likely have been able to open that Wendy's till faster and would have been able to easily make off with the loot! AMIRITE OR WHAT.
Anyway, this of course is the first match of a potential seven, and as such, this one was a much slower pace than what we’d normally see from these two; if only because the psychology dictated that the two were tentatively feeling each other out, instead of just going to balls out like they normally would. For the record, the previous sentence was never intended to come across so homoerotic. But hey, when you religiously follow a sport with sweaty dudes rolling around with one another while wearing Speedos, you really have no logical defense. WRESTLING: IT'S ONLY GAY IF YOU MAKE EYE CONTACT.
In any event, things start to pick up around the ten minute mark, where there’s several close falls, including a Booker small-package (so much for that stereotype! Wait. Oh.) countered from a Benoit unsuccessful sharpshooter attempt. Silly, Benoit. Like that hold ever worked here. Ahem. Soon after, Benoit rallies again after eating some Booker spin-kicks, and dishes out the Rolling Germans! Which sounds like the awesomest Polka band EVER. I then ponder to myself if by proxy of the name of the hold, if all German’s around the world possess the inherent ability to suplex people. I mean, fucking Austria doesn't have any suplexes, right? Italy? Nope. Sure Ireland has its whip, and Russia's known for its awkward leg sweeping, but clearly Germany has the advantage in tandem effort physicality. This is probably the *real* reason the Allies had so much trouble in WW2. The casualties at Normandy from suplexes alone were astronomical. In fact, Potter's field is FILLED with those poor souls who never had the good sense to stop rolling after the first suplex. True story.
Eventually, both men find each other jockeying on the top rope, as Booker tries a superplex, but Benoit headbutts out, knocking Booker to the mat, and allowing Benoit the go for the flying headbutt.... HOWEVER~ Booker rolls clear, and gets a quick Oklahoma roll- with a Sharmell rope-assisted leverage to pick up win number one over Benoit! Damn those Oklahomans. They strike when you least expect it. One minute you're tying you shoes in Muskogee, and the next, some Okie's flipping you into a cradle. It's why I never go there on Vacation anymore.
After the match Booker and Sharmell
celebrate. Sharmell is then immediately whisked back to
the Ricki Lake Studio Audience...
Winner: Booker T. Ah, yes. He's finally getting his due after all these years of toiling. Who knew when he yelled "Can you dig it, Sucka?" he was really referring to the hole WWE keeps him buried in. You learn something new every day.
-Backstage, we see Bischoff warming up for his “match” with Teddy Long. He’s wearing his maternity Kung Fu (Kung food?) pajamas tonight, so he obviously means business. Vince then confronts Bischoff about tonight's match, and Eric guarantees RAW will prevail over SmackDown, and more importantly, that he’ll screw John Cena. Heh. You know, Screwjobs tend to be a "little more shocking" when you don’t tell people they’re getting screwed ahead of time. That'd kind of be like a Rapist telling a woman a couple of days before that she was going to be violated, and then her crying out "Why!!!" after it happens. Just saying. Anyway, John Cena of course overhears this, and makes the obligatory Cena gay joke # 30567 at the drop of the word “screwed”… as children around the world break out in thunderous laughter and applause. They then say “poop” to themselves and laugh even harder. Dear God, Cena. Go, umm, Ruck yourself? That sounds about right.
Anyway, from there, Vince sucks up to Cena, and starts speaking “street” to him, even calling Cena “My Nigga”. On the way out, Vince knocks the yarmulke off Paul Heyman’s head, throws a head of lettuce at Rey Mysterio, and insults the size of Tajiri’s genitals. All in a day’s work. Seriously though, Vince drops the “N” bomb and struts off, as we then see Booker and Sharmell shaking their head, with Book dropping the “Tell me I didn’t just hear that” line. I’d say the whole thing was controversial, but if an obvious African American like John Cena is Ok with it, who am I to argue?
(C) Trish Stratus w/ Mickie James w/ glorious huge implants Vs. Melina w/ Nitro & Mercury: WWE Woman’s Title match.
I love how in wrestling, whenever a woman disappears for a while, they reemerge with bigger breasts (see Mickie James) than they've ever had before. It’s a shame the real world wasn’t like this. I’d be sending my girlfriend on vacation all the time. Anyway, these two haven’t had a hell of a lot of time to really work together, but the two manage to put together a fairly entertaining match. They work really stiff here (Hey, me too!) and in a lot of cases, Melina is full on kicking Trish in the head.
At one point, MNM get involved, but are ejected from the ringside area. From there, Melina and Mickie James get into it on the floor, allowing Styles to break out his trademark “CATFIIIIIIGHT!” Back inside, Melina counters the Matrix move by simply dropping an Axe-handle on Trish’s midsection. Had Agent Smith tried this all along, the Revolution would have ended a lot sooner. Clearly.
The match ultimately ends when Melina looks to spear Trish off the apron, but Mickie pulls her clear, allowing Melina to spill violently to the outside. Once back inside, Trish catches the groggy Melina with a leaping top rope Bulldog to retain the title. After the match, Mickie joyously embraces her hero, as Trish sells it awkwardly. Bah. If pornos have taught me anything ( and they've taught me everything!) it's that *all* women really want to give in to their lustful temptations and ravage one another. And Doctors don't ever wear clothes under their scrubs and frequently take on the nursing staff two at a time. Stuff this awesome has to be true! Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go finish medical school! Pussy here I come!
Winner and *STILL* Champion: Trish Stratus. But we’re all winners, really. Except you right there. There’s no hope for you.
-Video package for HHH/Flair airs.
Sometimes you just got to go behind the barn and put a
bullet in the horse's head, so says The Game. Sadly, I
didn't realize he meant this only as a metaphor.
And as a result I'm pretty much banned from most Race
Tracks in the entire North east. Oh well.
-Video package for HHH/Flair airs. Sometimes you just got to go behind the barn and put a bullet in the horse's head, so says The Game. Sadly, I didn't realize he meant this only as a metaphor. And as a result I'm pretty much banned from most Race Tracks in the entire North east. Oh well.
HHH Vs. Ric Flair: Last Man Standing Match (Non-title)
I wrote this, news came down the wire that The Nature
Boy apparently had him a bit of “Road Rage” in
Anyway, from there, once I came to terms with the fact that Slick Ric had sold me a bill of goods, I pictured Ric emerging from his vehicle, thumbing the other driver in the eye, then turning around and mule kicking the door, before taking three steps forward and falling face first to the asphalt. He would then calmly stand up, strut several times, and reenter his vehicle and speed away, but not before breaking suddenly, slicking his hair back with his hands, then proceeding on. Clearly, this is by far the most plausible explanation, and the only one I'll accept....
Still though, I’m sure the judge will let him off with a slap (chop?) on the wrist once he learns of the stress Ric was likely under preparing for the grueling and brutal Last Man Standing match! I mean, who could blame him? It shortens careers! Men are never the same! Wait, maybe that was the steel cage. Whatever.
Anyway, HHH blindsides Ric Flair as he makes his entrance, and begins pummeling Naitch before he can even get his robe off. Had that stewardess in 2002 just utilized this trick, she could have avoided a whole unpleasant situation. Get your head in the game!
Hunter dominates from there, and after a
brief flurry by Flair, the two spill to the floor, where
HHH takes control again, retrieving a screwdriver from
under the ring. He then digs it into Flair’s head and
opens him up. Man. Hunter is taking this whole Survivor
Series “screwjob” thing a little literally! [/got
From there, Hunter looks to pedigree Flair through the RAW announce table, but Flair awkwardly back body drops Trips out and over, causing him to, you guessed it, smash through the Spanish announce table. Man. If I was Hugo, I'd have at least installed an airside bag in the table. Or better yet, MOVED THE FUCKER SOMEWHERE ELSE. Has there ever been two bigger imbeciles and gluttons for punishment than these guys? See you next month, boys! Wear one of those inflatable sumo suits next time. It might help.
From there, Flair gets back into the ring, and the count begins, but HHH is up at nine. Both men are hurting at this point, but Hunter once again regains the momentum, and heads out and steals Lillian’s chair, in hopes of pedigreeing Flair on it. Ric however, counters that by dropping to his knees and blasting Hunter with a low blow, before striking a stunned Triple H down with said chair. Flair goes to work after that, repeatedly smashing Hunter groin first into the post, before going to work on the leg, battering his bad quad, before subduing him with a rope-assisted figure four leglock. Hunter taps out, but the Ref just shrugs since the match can only end in a knock out technically. Once out of the hold, HHH eventually regains the momentum, using the steel ring stairs to clobber Ric, but he goes to the well once too often, and this time, Ric is waiting with a drop-toe-hold, which of course drives Hunter face first into the steps. This however still isn’t enough to put Triple H away. See, this is why I love wrestling. Only in wrestling will you see a dude hold a cumbersome huge weapon directly in front of his face, and charge his foe, then be totally surprised when it goes to hell.
Flair Irish whips Hunter from there, but makes the unfortunate mistake of lowering his head, allowing Hunter to hit a quick pedigree. Still though, Ric Flair somehow recovers, which infuriates Trips, so he gives him a second. STILL, though, Flair recovers! Man. Somewhere, Booker T. is crying a single tear down his face that Ric gets to even live after one pedigree, when he himself is still selling the single one he got 3 years ago. Now incensed, HHH hits a third, and as the ref starts the count, Flair starts to stir, which panics Triple H, who heads to the floor to recover a sledgehammer under the ring, which of course is kept there in the case one of the boys spontaneously gets the urge to start mining for iron ore between matches? I don’t know. What I do know is, Flair struggles to his feet, but gets mowed down by Triple H and said sledgehammer. It’s academic at this point. A ten count later and Triple H is declared the winner.
Winner: Triple H. Great match. After the
match, the medics rush out and strap Flair to a
stretcher. Flair is then taken to the hospital
Medical facility, where according to a HHH promo on RAW,
he’s got Naitch a nice room with a plasma screen TV.
Man, I didn’t realize the morgue had access to cable!
You know, the place where a guy who was BRAINED BY A 50
POUND HAMMER would go. Still though, I can only hope the
next time someone savagely crushes my skull in with a
blunt object that I’ll be shown the same generosity.
High definition ready if possible.
-Backstage, Orton, JBL, Lashley and Rey are shown arguing. Randy Orton claims he should be captain, and JBL agrees. Just then, Batista who was apparently tp’d by neighborhood children prior to the interview, comes in, and claims the captain’s role for himself on the account he’s the Champion. Everyone reluctantly agrees. Mummified Batista then turns into a huge whirlwind and ravages Egypt. IT'S A DEATH CURSE~!
-Edge, accompanied by Lita, a case with “Money in the Bank”, and in all probability a case of herpes simplex to go with it, comes out, and announces the debut of his new show “the Cutting Edge”. He spots Detroit Tiger Dmitri Young in the crowd, and makes light of him and baseball. Edge states that all baseball players are on steroids and amphetamines. Just then, Edge’s briefcase spills open, and about two hundred syringes and somas spill out, as this is heard over the loud speakers. Ok, I lied. That didn’t happen. But it’d be funny if it did considering the hypocrisy. I guess from this point on Vince will just insist Snitsky’s back looks like that because he hasn’t done laundry in the last five years. Sounds good to me.
Anyway, Dmitri ends up replying, and points out Detroit’s various championships, and asks Edge where his World Titles are. Edge then answers, “Oh ya? Well, this is the city that produced Kevin Nash.” Dmitri, replies “Touché”, and then hangs his head in shame, broken and defeated. Ok, just the first part of this paragraph is true. But there is no comeback for Kevin Nash. It’s true.
Kurt Angle Vs. (C) John Cena; WWE Championship match: Daivari as Special Referee.
Fun fact: For a guy who’s supposed to be WWE’s next big player, WWE CHAMPION, John Cena has yet to main event even one co-branded WWE PPV.
Sean's note from 2006: Dear Lord. I pine for these days.
Daivari is your special referee here. Oh, in case you were wondering, the censors are still bleeping out the “you suck” chants. Even on pay-per-view. However, WWE has yet to explain to us just how this keeps Angle from hearing the live crowd that’s chanting it. I can’t be the only one who’d like a little logic with my sport featuring guys constantly returning from the dead and pre-planned homicides in which no one ever get arrested. Or something like that.
Right from the onset, the crowd is divided. With some chanting “Let’s go Angle!” while The Chain Gang (who for the record would be just about the worst people to do heavy forced manual labor. Just saying.) with voices suspiciously higher pitched, almost as if they were under the age of 13, or lacked a penis, chant “Let’s go Cena!”
Anyway, this is one overbooked mess of a match, and rather than letting the two just go at it, they litter it with nonsensical ref bumps as you’ll see. Angle gets a quick takedown early, and applies the ankle-lock, but Daivari strangely doesn’t ring the bell immediately as is customary here for like the last 8 fucking years. Soon after, Cena rallies and hits his crazy fisherman suplex, (when do fisherman have time to catch anything if they're throwing all these suplexes? ) but Daivari out and out refuses to count.
From there, Angle once again applies the ankle-lock, and once again Daivari doesn’t just call for the bell. Man. Somewhere out there Bret Hart is watching and wondering why this Daivari couldn’t have been a referee in 1997. In any event, Cena struggles in the hold, and is repeatedly urged to “tap” by Daivari & Angle both. And I can only assume by “tap” they mean Cena breaking out a tribute to old song and dance man Sammy Davis Jr. Or maybe they’d just like to see him give up. I don’t know. Anyway, the awesome unadulterated power of hip-hop allows Cena to break free of the ankle-lock, and soon after, Cena catches Angle with a big spinebuster, and slaps Daivari for his biased officiating. Daivari then looks like he’s about to disqualify Cena for it, but Angle intercedes and begs him not to do it on the account that he cannot win the title on a DQ. In the confusion, Cena nails Angle from behind, and this causes Kurt and Daivari to collide, and as a result, Daivari gets knocked unconscious to the floor. The whole thing needed Benny Hill music to hammer it home. Half nude women running in continuous circles would also be appreciated.
From there, another referee takes Daivari’s place. Angle then goes on offense with a belly to belly, and a combination STF/bow and arrow but Cena doesn’t submit. Cena then rallies, and the crowd really starts to boo as Cena he hits a DDT and follow-up Five knuckle shuffle. Angle in desperation then attacks the referee, clotheslining him out of the ring. This brings out a third referee, and the match continues. Angle hits an Angle slam and covers but the sheer will to produce more PHAT beats compels Cena to kick out yet again. Man, he’s just like Hulk Hogan only black! (blacker?). This infuriates Angle, so he does what any person would do in that situation; he European uppercuts the referee. Angle then tries to revive Daivari, who apparently has the same pain threshold as Mr. Glass from Unbreakable, as he was out for like 10 minutes on the floor from a fucking SHOULDERBLOCK.
Anyway, at the same time as Angle is rolling Daivari’s semi-conscious body back into the ring, SD referee Charles Robinson runs in because there’s no RAW referees left. Angle then becomes distracted by Little Naitch’s appearance, and Cena gets up, DDT’s Daivari back out cold, and lays back down on the mat and plays possum. Angle then picks up Cena off the canvas, but is quickly scooped up and FU’d. 1,2,3. Cena retains, as overweight teenage girls across the country simultaneously wipe the nervous sweat from their sizeable foreheads.
Winner and *Still* Champion: John Cena. Meh. I don’t know. I like Cena well enough, but what does it say when every crowd since the summer has been pulling for the HEEL to “overcome all odds” and actually beat Cena? I’m convinced that right now, in another plain of existence, there’s WWE booking out there that actually makes sense. Jerry O’Connell, we need you buddy!
Eric Bischoff Vs. Teddy Long: Battle of the GM’s.
In this match, Fan interest will be barred from ringside. All kidding aside, the crowd absolutely TURNED on this match. But who can blame them? When compiling my list of must see matches, I don't tend to have an emaciated black guy who looks like a half digested milk dud against an overweight ninja in my top 10. What were they thinking?
With that said, Teddy Long dodges Bischoff’s charges early, and taunts his Karate prowess with “the crane” from Karate Kid. Well, I guess I can see the comparison. Karate Kid is known for his trademark “Wax on, Wax off”, while Bischoff is noted for doing the latter in the Gold Club while his wife goes down on strippers. Close enough.
Anyway, Bisch finally gets a hold of
Long, and starts choking Long out with his black belt.
Bisch than does Karate proud by struggling to apply a
sleeper on a one hundred and thirty pound man. At this
point the crowd is chanting “boring”, but they perk up
when the Boogeyman comes out. The referees then start to
argue (the match was officiated by both a RAW & SD
referee to guarantee we see a clear cut winner and umm,
get our money’s worth? Dear Lord). This allows Boogey to
sneak up behind Bischoff (well, as much sneaking you can
do when YOUR THEME MUSIC is blaring) and deliver a big
pump-handle slam to Easy E. before sliding out of the
ring and leaving through the crowd. Teddy then rolls
over and picks up the win. Man. Give me my
money dolla dolla bills
Winner: Teddy Long. But hey, at least Boogeyman finally, umm, "came and got someone". About fucking time.
-We then see Team Smackdown making its way out of the locker room, getting well wishes from guys who probably weren’t paid to be here tonight, yet still have to pat them on the back. “Good luck, tonight! Oh, and btw, I have to live in my car!”
Team RAW: Shawn Michaels, Kane, Big Show, Carlito & Chris Masters Vs. Team SmackDown: Batista, Randy Orton, Rey Mysterio, Bobby “Abobo” Lashley & JBL.
Your announcers for this match are…EVERYBODY. That’s right, FIVE people. At once. It was kind of akin to taking a long car ride with your family where everyone is talking at once. Only thing missing was your idiot father not asking for directions, and getting completely lost thus ruining your vacation completely. I can't be the only dude this ever happened to.
Orton and HBK start things off. From there, HBK tags out to Masters, and Orton eventually tags in Lashley. Masters tries to get the Masterlock on Lashley, but Abobo slips out. Hot tag to Carlito by Masters, and Lashley destroys him with a huge powerslam. Carlito then tags HBK back in, who goes up top for a body press, but is caught by Lashley; but before Abobo can do anything with him, Carlito runs in, but eats a dominator for troubles. All this distraction allows Kane (who is on the apron) to goozle Lashley and chokeslam him. HBK then quickly covers Lashley for the pin. So much for Lashley’s undefeated streak. But hey, that probably won't stop WWE from still saying he's undefeated. They've obviously decided getting "defeated" doesn't effect your undefeated record. Much like playing baseball with retards, everyone's a winner!
Sean's note from 2006: Turns out they did claim he was still undefeated, until JBL pinned him at No Way Out. Apparently if it happens at Survivor Series, it never really happened. With that said, clearly this is the perfect night to have sex with an extremely ugly woman, guilt free. Hey, just saying!
Rey is in next and takes some huge throws by Big Show, until eventually, all Hell breaks loose when Mummy Batista gets tagged in and destroys everyone on Team RAW. In the chaos, Kane walks into a big spinebuster and DAVE gets the pin. From there, Show catches DAVE with a chokeslam, but Batista kicks out at “two”. Kane (who hasn’t left the ring yet) and Show then hit their double chokeslam on Batista and Show covers to put him out. Animal cruelty~! Kind of surprising elimination, but sort of expected considered The Animal's hurt. Quick, get this man to a Veterinarian!
Anyway, having just lost their captain, the three remaining members of Team SD all bombard Show with their finishers in succession. Clothesline from Hell by JBL, RKO by Orton, another clothesline by JBL, and finally Rey hits a springboard senton on the stunned Big Show to pick up the pin. WELLLLLL, that Was the Big Show.
From there, Masters and Carlito double team Rey-Rey, but JBL sneaks a tag and eliminates Carlito by flattening him with the clothesline from Hell. I’d have marked out if JBL had missed and just grazed the 18 inches of hair. But that’s just me.
Apparently, in the chaos, HBK was taken out on the floor, so Masters is left to deal with TEAM SD, and eventually succumbs to Rey who drops the dime (Johnny Ace is then seen running out, picking it up and putting it in his pocket, then leaving. ).
This just leaves HBK for Team RAW. Rey-Rey in, who then drop-toe-holds a somewhat woozy HBK into the ropes, and then follows through with a 619. However, HBK is ready for Rey’s inevitable springboard assault, and catches him in mid-flight with some Sweet Chin Music. HBK falls atop Rey and gets the pin. From there, JBL in with a charge and potential clothesline from Hell, but HBK ducks and hits another superkick to put JBL away. This just leaves Orton & HBK to settle RAW and SmackDown’s differences. Not much of an exchange here other than countering each other’s finishers, and from there, HBK rebounds with the flying forearm, and kip up, to set up the sweet chin music, but we see JBL, who hasn’t left the ringside area, try to re-enter with a chair, distracting HBK and the referee long enough for Orton to hit the RKO and win the match.
Winner & Sole Survivor: Randy Orton. Fun Fact: These two men battled in the finals of the 2003 Survivor Series with almost the same exact finishing sequence of HBK having to go through 3 consecutive dudes. Funner Fact: There isn't a funner fact. And come to think of it, the first one wasn't all that fun either. I think I'll stop now.
-After the match, the SmackDown locker room runs out to congratulate Randy Orton, including Vince’s latest masterstroke: The Dicks! (Hey I wonder if they tense right up when people have them in grinding headlocks?). The locker room then hoists Orton on their shoulders, but Undertaker’s gong goes off. Orton goes berserk trying to free himself from their clutches to escape, but the obviously brain-damaged locker room keep him hoisted as apparently he’s the only one who now hears the Druid chanting over the sound system. A casket is then wheeled out, placed upright, and lightning goes off, setting the casket ablaze. X-Men Storm is then seen fleeing the Joe Louis arena in the X-Jet. Ok, maybe not. But hey, it couldn't have been Undertaker, because let's face it, he never uses any of this shit when it matters. I've said it before, but why use chinlocks and bodyslams when you can project electric currents from your fucking hands? That'd be like fucking Superman stepping into that machine that eliminates your powers right before he fights crime. Jesus.
In any event, the casket opens up, on fire,
and Undertaker emerges…and holy shit, he’s not wearing
pants! Just one big unitard. At that moment, I
contemplate if maybe the fire at No Mercy melted them,
or if in a fit off anger from having the family
relocated from Houston to uninhabitable “Death Valley”,
wife Sara purposely ruined them in the wash. It’s at
this point I realize I’m thinking far too hard about
Undertaker’s pants (or lack there of) and vow to never
speak of it again.
Undertaker then comes into the ring, and Orton hightails it out of there, as Undertaker begins destroying the entire SD roster in... a show of SmackDown unity?! That’s sweet. Taker first choke slams Brian Kendrick, who obviously posed the biggest threat to him, as was evident in the way Spanky tried to flee the ring in complete terror. From there, Paul Birchill gets punched in the face, but not before having to call Undertaker “sir” and say “hello” to him in customary Smackdown rookie protocol; and finally, William Regal gets the tombstone, just because.
Show closes with the lights going out and Taker posturing, while Orton is seen leaving with a panicked look on his face. No word on whether this is really because Cowboy Bob just whispered in his ear that WWE’s mandatory drug testing program begins tonight. Just kidding.
Final Thoughts: Decent, yet not particularly spectacular show. Flair/HHH continues to produce awesome matches and drama, and clearly between them, they're just one mustache and pair of bushy eyebrows from creating the best pair of novelty glasses ever. So bonus points there. However, the Cena/Angle storyline has faltered with yet another Cena “against all odds” win. It’s hard to sympathize with a guy’s plight if he wins all the time. After awhile you start wanting to pull for the “real” underdogs.
Long & Bischoff was a clusterfuck, and I cannot fathom why Vince & Co. would ever think we’d want to PAY for this match. As for the main event, Good match, but not a classic. I blame that however on the “over Hossification” of the teams, and the lack of guys like Matt Hardy, Shelton Benjamin or Chavo Guerrero that could have carried more of the load as opposed to being one like Chris Masters. Oh well. Might as well get some of the muscle-bound dudes in there now. This time next year they’ll all look like Trevor Murdoch…
Still though, as always, I ultimately came out entertained. I tend to take off my “smark goggles” when I watch wrestling. I just put ‘em back on when I write about it…
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.).