SATURDAY NIGHT'S MAIN EVENT
By Joe Merrick & Anvil's Swagbag
Greetings, buddies, fuckies, and buttfuckies! Like a drunk father of 3 kids coming
home from the pub, I am BACK TO KICK SOME ASS. Yes, friends, I know you missed me. Who wouldn’t miss a sociopathic talentless
racist? Except, you know, the rest of the cast of Seinfeld. But I am not alone, friends. I decided to show my charitable side,
and let a lesser man share some air time with a legend such as myself. And by ‘lesser man’, I mean ‘Lesser
Carbon Clone of Me’. Please welcome, ANVIL.
And like the mother of said kids, my job tonight is pretty much to stand back and watch Joe kick ass. Because if he wasn’t
doing it, hell, I damn well would be… fuck, did I just compare us to a married couple? Regardless, tonight, I am tying
Joe up to the cart and making him pull the whole damn weight. If Joe is black, then goddamn it, this is the fucking Apartheid.
That's right, honky! And you may have noticed that whereas my esteemed colleague
here is in blue, I have decided to stay true to my real roots and keep it white. After all, along with the red theme of the
site, it almost makes the colour of the British flag! Well, if it wasn’t for the dark background. THERE AIN'T NO BLACK
IN THE UNION JACK, Y'ALL.
Anyway, let's get this kitten in the canal (I.e. done for good) already. the night
starts with Vince and Coach talking about Vince's illegitimate child, which Vince is on the hunt for. Which just gives me
awesome mental images of him lifting up Steph's skirt, looking up and yelling 'SON! YOU IN THERE?'. Anyway, Vince claims there
was a time 'in the 70's in Kansas City with a black chick'. One can only imagine what mid-coital orgasmic exclamation he made
during these shenanigans. 'LLORETTA. I'M COMIN IN YOO, NIGGUH' perhaps? Anyways, Vince sighs and says it's going to be a long
night. You said it, man.
Cole welcomes us to the show along with JBL and JR. Good Christ, any more rednecks
and the ring might as well be made of pig shite and the turnbuckles of burning crosses.
Batista & Kane vs. Finlay and the Great Khali
I might be a freak, but am I the only one who, when Finlay covers someone, sings
'It's the FINLAY COUNTDOOOWN!' in my head? Yeah thought so.
Kane beats Finlay around for a bit. pushes him around the corners. That's a huge
mistake. Last time I cornered an Irishmen I ended up with semtex up my ass. Still, we keep in touch. Kane gets a 2 count after
a side slam, and then Batista is tagged in. I am seriously asking people. What fucking nationality is this guy? Someone give
me SOMEthing to joke about other than his blatant roid abuse. Hey, I know, I'll make one up. From now on, Batista is GERMAN.
Haha, more like SCATista! Am I right?
Nazista then kicks the crap out of Finlay for a bit as well, before Finlay manages
to stick a boot to the face and go up to the second rope. he jumps right into a slam and then takes a musclebuster before
rolling out to the floor. Formulaic stuff so far, but hey, no one cares about a recapper's opinion. So I must therefore be
Soon Khali ends up beating on Kane, working on the ribs. They do the whole 'ohmahgawd
the face fights back!' schtick before Kane gets knocked down again. Guess we should start calling this guy Kanedrick, he's
such a pussy nowadays. Finlay's in and smacks Kane around before he gets reversed and BRATISTAWURST rampages in! Man, that
ring is like POLAND to him! He Bossman slams Finlay for a 2. Hornswoggle is now in and he gets picked up by the faces and
actually rammed into Khali! Dude, abuse of midgets? WRESTLING JUST OFFICIALLY GOT COOL AGAIN.
They then reverse a double goozle by Khali and double chokeslam the big loveable
moron (I don't care what anyone says. This guy's the most adorable retard since TIMMEH) And then Finlay eats a spear and a
LEDERHOSENBOMB. Eh, fuck it I ran out of German things.
WINNERS: Kane and Batista
What did I gain from this match? - A new admiration for all things German. Man, they
can stick some stuff in those vaginas huh?
Man, they don’t stop at vaginas. Ask Michael Cole, Heidenreich’s BESTEST
After the match, Swastista stares down Khali. Because nothing sets up
a good match better than copious amounts of eye contact and head squeezing. Yes, definitely the set up to a good match as
opposed to a bad porno. Definitely.
Vince and Coach are in the back, and Vince is DESPERATE to know who his child is.
Well, I have the answer. There is only one man who can help you in situations like this! When there’s some-one strange
claiming they’re your seed, who you gonna call?? MAURY FUCKING POVICH. I mean, just picture it. The silver fox, Maury
himself, saying ‘OK guys in the locker-room, it’s time for the blood-test!’, and in a flash finding himself
in a completely fucking empty room.
Vince looks at himself in the mirror and suddenly sees Young Vince staring back at
him, not moving in the least. And let that be a warning to anybody who has considered Botox. But seriously, I don’t
really get the symbolism of that at all. Is he suggesting that, as he sees things that are not there when he looks into mirrors,
that The Ultimate Warrior is his son? That Parts Unknown could have actually been Vince’s Scrot? Because that would
be an ultra bad-ass twist.
And now, MVP is in the back, and here is Evander fucking Holyfield. MVP says
that if it wasn’t forhis heart issues, he’d be fighting, and that Holyfield should be honoured to take his place.
And at that point, one of MVP’s entourage shouts the N-Word very fucking audibly… erm, this is totally more Joe’s
territory than mine…
YEAH! Fuck the neg-
...Aw HELLS NAW.
Vince and Coach are in the ring once more, and they reveal that they recently discovered
that Vince has a bastard child. No need to be harsh. I mean, he's a shit dancer, but Shane tries his best. Oh, wait.
Coach goes on about Vince's 'urges' for a bit. If only the speech was less 'lol he
likes to have sex' and more 'This man has the most inex-fucking-plicable urges to make the most startingly dumbass storylines'.
Ugh, that was like a joke from a typical TWF forumer. I feel UNCLEAN. UNCLEEEEEAN.
Coach then reveals Eugene to be the child, which Vince responds to hilariously with
'No way, I had sex with a stranger, NOT MY COUSIN'. It's hilarious because this guy was willing to admit to having sex with
his DAUGHTER for fuck sake. In a bizarre exchange, Eugene claims Uncle Eric told him that Vince nailed his mother, and he
only got into wrestling to put Vince out of business. What he left out was the part of how the Diva Search beat him to it.
Vince then says he wore protection, but Eugene then says he loves daddy and hugs
him, before being rejected.
Coach then claims that the next person could be Vince's daughter, and Melina comes
out. If Vince ever had an excuse to fuck his daughter, THIS is it, not fucking Steph. Vince then whispers into Coach's ear
why he can't have conceived Melina, which Coach reacts to with disgust. LOL SURPRISE BUTTSECKS JOKE. Melina then says something
about suing Vince and leaves. Damn, this is uneventful.
Well don’t you worry you’re pretty little head, because I’m here
to take the fuck over, and I’m in my element when nothing is fucking happening.
And it is at this point when something happens. Just my fucking luck.
Coach says there is one more man who it could be, and Vince demands that Coach tell
him now. Cue breaking glass, cue Stone Cold, and cue the biggest pop I have heard all fucking year. I mean, as pops go, that
isn’t far behind Foley winning the title on Raw. Which tells you all you need to know about the characters in the WWE
at the moment and how they are pushed, really. Stone Cold rip-roars his way to the ring and cuts a really good promo on how
many fatherly things he and Vince missed out on, like building a Go Kart and the birds and the bees conversation. It never
ceases to amaze me that Austin can cut a great promo whilst only being allowed to say a few words before being drowned out
by ‘WHAT!?’ chants. I’m telling you, everytime somebody shouted ‘WHAT’ at me, I’d turn
the mic down a little. And then, when they got to the point when they really COULDN’T hear a word, and were straining
their ears to listen, I’d turn the fucker right the hell up. Anvil, always supplying new ways to give your gran a heart
Austin Low Blows Vince, TWICE, to help him with his ‘grapefruit problem. He
then stunners Coach. Vince is slowly rising to his feet, so Austin offers him a beer. DON’T TAKE THE BEER! Vince takes
the beer and raises it to his lips. DON’T DRINK THE BEER! Vince takes a sip. Austin stunners him. Why oh why did he
drink the beer!? Silly senile old cunt. Moving swiftly on to…
John Cena vs. Carlito.
Carlito has about as much chance going into this as Charles Manson’s singing
Charles Manson:- Ah’d naw like ta sing a song for y’all called ‘Barbie
Girl’, but it’s REALLY about the brutal disgusting murder owf all the blacks and piggies, the teachings of Hitler,
aynd a biiiig hole in the desert. And remember kiddies, ‘life is YOUR creation’.’
Cena basically knocks Carlito from pillar to post here, and it amuses me that Cena
seems more annoyed at having apple spat in his face than he did when he was STABBED IN THE FUCKING KIDNEY. I mean, you can
survive with only one kidney, and scars fade (pretty fucking quickly in this case), but the shame of having fruit propelled
from the mouth into your general vicinity is FOREVER. Big clothesline knocks Carlito for six, so he goes to get a chair but
he is disarmed by the referee. These referees are amazing. They have the physical strength to TEAR a chair out of a wrestlers
hand, but shit, you breath on them too hard, and they are out cold for the next five minutes. Cena dives at Carlito on the
apron, but gets caught in the ropes, and Carlito kicks him hard in the side of the head. Cool spot, so of course we are dragged
away from the action and taken to commercials.
When we return, Carlito miraculously still has control, ducking a clothesline and
hitting a back elbow, but this doesn’t last long. Cena hits that move where he is supposed to flip over his opponent
and hook their head into a neckbreaker, but as usual, his flip is about as clean as Bobby Heenan’s language when Brian
Pillman tried to steal his jacket.
Heenan:- SHITFUCKASSBASTARDCUNT TONY SCHIAVONE !!
Schiavone:- We apologise for that language, but Brian Pillman did just steal Heenan’s
Heenan:-… somebody stole my coat??
Cena hits the Fame Asser from the top… so basically sits on Carlito’s head… and locks in the STFU for
What did Joe gain from this match?
- Oh, I'm up next? Fucking hell. Let me finish masturbating first.
Orton is out now and he fucks up Cena's shit with an RKO onto a chair. They replay
this when we come back from commercial, and Tard Grisham finds Orton in the back and calls him brutal. Orton says his message
to Cena is that he made the world's youngest World Champ, and now he's gonna SHIT IN HIS REEBOKS AND...oh. No he didnt. Haha,
you'd think I was bored and making shit up or something.
Next up Michael Buffer is here to give a special announcement for the Matt Hardy/Evander
Holyfield match. I always wished Michael Buffer got Parkinson's disease. Not out of spite. But just so I could hear 'LLLLLLLLLET'S
GET READY TO FUMBLLLLLLLLLLLLE!'
Boxing Match - Matt Hardy vs Evander Holyfield
Can one cut one's wrists whilst wearing boxing gloves? That is what we are here to
find out, and- what? We're not? Well that's the point then? God fucking damn.
ROUND 1: Well, they, erm, box. I guess. No powerslams, no Twist of fatesm hell, not
even a Khali Brain chop. This isn't wrestling. THIS. IS. SPARRING.
Matt gets knocked on his ass, and the bell rings. Round two up next, take it away
FUCK Round Two, that’s Michael Buffer! Michael Buffer has been my favourite
ring announcer, EVER, from the time he announced the arrival of ‘Bret The Hitman Clark’. I am not kidding, this
guy schmozzed the biggest name in the business at the time. So when I saw him tonight, I was ecstatic at the thought of ‘Matt
Hardon’ coming to the ring. He got it right, but Michael Buffer still rules.
Matt Hardy is fucked here. His knees are wobbling, the ref tells him to keep his
damn hands up REPEATEDLY to no reaction. Evander refuses to punch him…. Wait, WHAT? Holyfield wont finish him off? FUCK
THAT PUSSY ASS SHIT. Bring back Mike Tyson. Tyson would have bit a hole in Matt Hardy’s back and fucked it till he died.
Tyson would have eaten Matt Hardy’s fetus. Holyfield is a pussy.
MVP agrees with me and gets ‘all up in dat boi’s grill’, or something
slightly less stereotypical, so Holyfield knocks him out cold. Now correct me if I am wrong, but if Holyfield had done that
to Matt Hardy two minutes ago, he’d have won the fight, not looked like a pussy for not being able to handle an emotastic
pro wrestler with less pure boxing skill than Bart Gunn, and none of this would have been necessary.
Holyfield then goes and HUGS Matt. FUCKING PUSSY ASS… GAH!! Joe,
take over. I need a fucking lie down.
Man, what I would have paid to see Matt seductively lick Evander's ear during the
...Well damn, that came out wrong.
CM Punk & Boogeyman vs. John Morrison & Big Daddy V w/ Matt Striker
Punk and Morrison (What an awesome name for an 80's double act of some
description) start off with the usual back and forth headlock irish whip thingymajiggers, the sort of crap that if somebody did to you in a real fight, you'd say, 'dude', and punch them
in the fucking nose. Punk ends up hitting a leg lariat on Morrison for the two and
we're off to commercials.
We come back to find Boogeyman mauling Morrison and trying to make him eat worms..Just like my first date. Man she hated those things. Striker
distracts enough to allow Morrison to tag in Big ol' V, who clotheslines and slams Boogey,
and then eats him whole. I'm lying, but hell, it would make our job a hell of a lot
easier because this match is
about as entertaining as watching Mae West
eat bacon's hardy boys book collection. Or
golden artichoke frosty
incognito pastrami scuba gooding junior. Ballsack.
Uh, so anyway. Punk hits a running knee to Morrison after they are both tagged in,
a bulldog is countered and then Punk hits an elbow, but gets tossed and covered...2 count! Small package and BOOM Punk gets
a sneak win.
Winners: Boogeyman & CM Punk
What did we gain from this match? - Cellophane mucus dungarees.
Anyway folks, that's your lot, don't blame me for the rather anticlimactic ending.
Blame society. Or God. Ha, he won't see that coming. I'd like to say I appreciated being let back into your public embrace
but, I mean, dude, I was actually getting laid away from this place. Leave me the HELL ALONE. On a similar note, thanks to
my good buddy Anvil for teaming up and making this recap better than I could have made it alone.
And let me thank our good friend Joe for coming out of retirement just long enough
to team up with me here. I know that the lives of the elderly is especially hard as we head towards the end of the year. So
think of Joe when those bleak winter seasons roll in. Think of him as you tuck into your turkey with your family. But more
importantly, think of HIS family, who will once again go without a fucking bite.
I love you Anvil.