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Tissue-Paper and Crime Scene Photos

By Martin Ferguson


Martin Ferguson

False advertising! That's what this is, as I decided to drop Jobbers of New England with no explanation because I don't feel like writing it! Thankfully, we'd never see this sort of thing in the WWE, right? Right?
Anyway, I recently realized something I think all wrestling fans need to know: Yokozuna's theme music kicked ass. But seriously though, let's get on with the real story. Last Sunday, what had the potential to be a major crisis occurred: a TNA audience made a chant referencing John Cena. I know what you're thinking of: is he ever going to stop BSing us? Ha ha, you wish, bitch. Anyhoo, this incident revealed something that has been a hidden secret for years: Canadians who wrestle or watch wrestling cause natural disasters wherever they may roam. Shocking, I know. I'm still trying to get a fund started for Sean Carless insurance, but no such luck. IT'S AN IMPORTANT ISSUE PEOPLE!
But we’re not here to talk about Eric Young setting fire to the Impact Zone. Instead, let’s get underway with the second Tissue-Paper & Crime Scene Photos review!
The WWE DVD Board Game
Yes, I actually have this thing. It’s amazing the sorts of things relatives will get you for Christmas when most only know enough about you to tell you like wrestling and women. Unfortunately the folks I know are too cheap to spring for a one-night stand with Carmen Electra, so I’m stuck with this. I’m playing this game for the first time as I do the review, so we’ll figure out what the hell is going on with this thing together.
There are cards involved, apparently, and each wrestler has his or her own cost to use. The +5s (the max) consist of THE DAVE, Jericho & Benoit, the Rated-Religious Superstar (you’ll get more on this title next week- for real this time!), the Million $ Nazi, the Doctor of Wiggernomics, Mr. Breaks His Neck Tying His Shoes (not Edge), Metromania, Mr. Also Breaks His Neck Tying His Shoes, Flippy Black Guy, Wife-Beater, HHHitler (which will from now on be my nickname for him), and UnderSeller. God, where to start... first of all, there’s a radical difference in prices amongst some when there’s no actual difference. For instance, Austin, Hunter, and Taker all cost $75,000, while you can get Benjamin for $50,000- $8,000 below the price Booker T, a 4, goes for.
It doesn’t help much that very card containing a male has at least a +3. Hell, Luther fucking Reigns is a +4. All of the divas except Trish Stratus, Lita, and Victoria give you a +1, while those three give you a +2, so there’s not an enormous amount of variety to be had.
Then there are the item cards, or Chaos Cards and Shopzone Cards as they are called in this game. Oh God, let me get into the stupidest of those.
Non-title match: Nifty little card to get out of defending a title, but the picture is just great. Hitler-H is holding down Eric Bischoff and pressing his forehead to Bischoff’s, for all intents and purposes looking like he’s about to teabag the poor guy.
Playing stocks: "Collect $50,000 for investing your cash in World Wrestling Entertainment, Inc." Bah ha ha ha! The day any of WWE’s stock holders besides Vince himself is getting that sort of moolah, I’ll start shitting gold.
Clean Win: Both versions of this card look as stupid as Rene Dupree’s haircut. On one card, you have John Cena hooking Kurt Angle’s leg while looking like he’s about to shit a brick, while on the other you have Shelton Benjamin being pinned by what looks like either Juventud Guerrera or Edge after getting a root canal.
Raw Call-Out: Chris Jericho is on one of the two call-out cards that don’t let you challenge for a title, while HHHitler is on one of the two that lets you challenge for a title. Is this supposed to imply something?
Escape Power Move: Snitsky looks about ready to fall to his knees in pain, Ric Flair looks like he’s just seen a ghost, Hunter and the referee are staring at Batista, and the Dave has his arms stretched out, eyes closed, and one leg off the ground, looking like he’s doing his best Terrance & Phillip impression. If I had a scanner, I’d so include a picture of this one.
Alright, let’s get past the cards and to the actual rules now, huh? The basic gist of it is you roll dice and use cards to move around, the winner is the first player to get all of the titles on a brand. Let’s see the policies for titles, shall we?
- Raw Heavyweights can challenge for any Raw Title except the Women’s Championship. No shit, sherlock.
- Raw Divas can only challenge for the Women’s Championship. I never would’ve guessed!
- Smackdown Heavyweights can challenge for any Smackdown Title except for the Cruiserweight Championship. You ever stop to think that, you know, this is a game made to be played by WWE fans who’d already know this?
- Smackdown Cruiserweights can challenge for any Smackdown Title except for the WWE Championship.
Holy shit, this is a WWE game!
- Smackdown Divas cannot challenge for any SmackDown Titles.
 Then why the hell should you bother getting any of them if there’s no point?
After much searching, my younger brother eventually agreed to join me for a game under the stipulation that if he won he’d get ten dollars. That in mind, we dived right in...
After stumbling through the rules and trying to find out how the hell you’re supposed to hire new superstars (as the booklet does not explain this), we finally got started. What names were we each lucky enough to get first? If you guessed I’d get Randy Orton and Luther Reigns while he got Mark Jindrak and Eugene, give yourself a pat on the back... and maybe some help, because those four names are not who you should think of when you think wrestling. Or good wrestling anyway.
After screwing around with the DVD that came with the game, we realized the errors of our ways as the first trivia question popped up: Where did the 2001 Royal Rumble take place? Okay, I’m all for getting some harder and more obscure questions out there but who the hell cares? When does anyone pay attention to the location, besides when WWE plays it up as the hometown of one of their performers?
Then my brother hit the WrestleMania space, and Mark Jindrak became WWE Champion. Realizing how shitty and uninteresting this game really is, I decided something far better was in order...
Big Apple Takedown
by Rudy Josephs
Heck yes. Behold the book equivalent of WWE Crush Hour, douchebags. For those that have not heard of this title, let me give you the description straight off the back of the book:
December 2001:
Vince McMahon steps out of a snowy night into a diner in upstate New York for a meeting with old friend Phil Thomson, now a highly placed government official. Thomson has a strange proposition: creating a new covert black-ops group using the Superstars of World Wrestling Entertainment. The WWE’s talented men and women are perfect. Highly skilled athletes with the ideal cover, they travel all cross the country and the globe; no on would find it unusual to find them in a town one day and gone the next. The government would train and support the wrestlers in any way possible except one: No one could know the truth.
March 2006:
The Superstars have been handed their latest assignment: take down a commercial-grade methyl-amphetamine plant that is bankrolling terrorist activities in Europe. Their mission seems simple and straightforward, until a member of their own team is taken prisoner. Now all that they’ve worked so hard for is in jeopardy, and one of their own might be killed. . . .
Wow. The stupidity actually starts before you even open the book, as the front cover has Torrie Wilson while the back has John Cena, Batista, Booker T, Vince, and Triple-Hitler. The problem? Booker isn’t a member of the group in the book, and doesn’t even appear while Chavo is in the book. Poor Chavito.
Anyhoo, on the first page Triple-H. . . wins the WWE title!? Damn! I thought he got the title fast when he came back from the quad injury, but come on. The dude was on the shelf for the quad injury in December 2001 for God’s sake! Continuity, what’s that?
Anyway, Vince finds himself in a diner after a pay-per-view and somehow him ordering a cup of coffee leads a Triple-H fat joke, a remark that Hulk Hogan will never retire, and Vince not deciding on booking plans for Raw until the night before. Damn, this Rudy Josephs guy knows his stuff. Flash forward two years later (2001 + 2 = 2006?), Triple-H is infiltrating a meth lab as an undercover security guard, and nobody seems to recognize the guy.
After the H’s returns to the hotel room, he runs into Randy Orton. Orton makes his only appearance in the entire book long enough to tell Hunter that the weight room is out in the hotel. Hunter goes in anyway, as it’s the meeting place for the current project. Proving the stupidity of the government of the United States, Torrie Wilson is sent in as a spy. If this girl can’t properly sell being mad at somebody, why the hell would you put her in a position to fight for the Liberty Bell and apple pie and racism against Muslims and hatred the world over and free speech as long as you’re saying the right things and all that other American way stuff?
Somehow or another, Batista and Chavo wind up in the sewer, where this book commits two cardinal sins in the span of a few pages. First, Mark Henry is name-dropped as ‘one of Batista’s toughest opponents’. That’s bad enough, but then to gain the ability to hack into the meth lab’s computers Chavo calls on the spirit of Eddie Guerrero! Calling on the Spirit Squad would be a lot cooler, methinks.
The plot just kind of nonsensically jumps around from there and doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, including Triple-H flattening a drug lord with- three guesses- a sledgehammer, but JOHNNY PARISI IS MENTIONED! That’s more than enough reason to buy this book right there.
Seriously though, if you’re bored and/or looking for something to do, it’s not a bad pick up. It beats the hell out of that board game.
Next Week On TP&CSP
Next week, learn what happens when Edge rules the Earth for 1,000 years! Also, look for me to announce the first Tissue-Paper & Crime Scene Photos contest. Hopefully you people actually send some e-mail for once. It’s lonely at the top...
Terminator 4: The Pimped:
Check out the main page for all the great stuff.


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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.).