Hey,
there wrestling fans, and wrestling fan fans, I'm Sean
Carless, and welcome to Judgment Day! The day God punishes you for your sins. Your
punishment: This Pay-per-view. Funny, all of a sudden the
actual apocalypse is looking a lot
better....
Tonight's Pay-per-view came to us from Los
Angeles! Land of fake breasts, egomaniacs who have a
stranglehold on their industry, and lower-tier stars doing
whatever humiliating task is asked of them just to
draw a pay check. Hey, it's no wonder WWE feels so at home
here! It all makes sense now.
I'll spare you the details of the (no) Heat match
between Mark Jindrak and Funaki that took place prior to the
PPV broadcast. Jindrak won. But just in case you didn't hear,
Mark Jindrak is indeed Teddy Long's new protégé (after
managing so many black guys, I guess he decided to go to the
opposite end of the spectrum and choose the plainest brand of
vanilla possible). This all culminated after Teddy searched
high and low for, and I quote, "a man with a perfect body
and cover-boy looks". It's just then I get a visual of
Patterson, triumphantly yelling out, "Teddy, you can have
him when I'm finished!". That's right. So, with that
said, Mr. Vertical Leap, rechristened the "Reflection of
Perfection" defeated Funaki, a man who hasn't had his ring
theme played after a match since Bill Clinton fucked Monica
Lewinsky with a cigar.The
only remotely interesting thing to come out of this match
was Theodore Long's pre-match promo, where he made light
of L.A., stating that "everyone had plastic surgery and
botox", before flubbing his lines by saying "and have
cellulite put in your bodies". Hmm, a surgeon who'll perform
Plastic Surgery and put cellulite in your body? Well,
I guess that does explain Stephanie
McMahon....
Onto the
show~!
The Dudley
& umm, The Dudley vs. "HIGH Spots" (RVD
& Rey Mysterio)
I wonder
if Bubba & D-Von will ever get their proper
identities back, or if they'll continue to be strangely
referred to by Paul Heyman as only "The
Dudley". And speaking of "The Dudley", Bubba is STILL
wearing those fucking shorts (short?). Jesus. Is it too much
to ask "The Dudley" to put on some, umm, "Pant"? It'd be
nice.
Anyway, this was a very solid
opener here with both teams clicking very well. RVD
of course proceeds to stiff the shit out of the Dudley
with his usual variety of potatoes (potato?). And you know
what these potatoes would go just GREAT with?
Some
KFC. Specifically that
one franchise right here in California that served a
customer two bags of marijuana in lieu of his actual
order. Hell, I think under those circumstances, if this
whole Rasslin' thing doesn't work out for Rob,
he could always just get a job there. (get a job, not do one.
For once). I mean, could there be a better person to endorse
the Colonel's secret recipe than "Mr. Thursday Night" Rob Van
Dam? Much like the tasty chicken, RVD himself has been fried for
years, so it'd be a
perfect fit. Rob would easily be the model employee. With
his vast experience, just imagine the care and precision in
which he'd roll the Clubhouse wrap, not to mention suggesting
new and creative ways for customers to utilize the
complimentary 2 Liter plastic Coke bottle that comes with your
order. The possibilities are endless! Much like the
amount of time I wasted making these
jokes...
Anyway, Rob is double-teamed by "The Dudley", but
eventually makes the hot tag to Rey-Rey who enters a house of
fire, that Rob then uses to light his bong off of. It's around
this point, Michael Cole proudly states that Rey owns hundreds
of masks. Me too, but my lawyer advised I hide them until the
trial is complete. Go figure. Bubba eventually stupidly tries to powerbomb
Rey, but YOU CANNOT POWERBOMB REY MYSTERIO, and he of
course turns it into the bulldog. You'd think they never
watched a wrestling match before. Gee, Bubba, how about
you go headbutt a Samoan, or try and tombstone Undertaker? Get
back to me on how well that worked out for you,
too.
One interesting moment happens when Rey, after
being isolated by "the Dudley", makes the tag to
Rob, when all of a sudden his music starts playing... as
if umm, pre-cued. Man, good thing
wrestling's not predetermined. That might have been real
awkward. Another real
cool spot sees RVD catapult Rey onto D-Von, who's sitting on
the top, then Mysterio take him down with a
frankensteiner. Cool stuff. The end sees Rey-Rey hit a
double 619, on The Dudley, and RVD then connects with the
Five-star frog splash on D-Von and his yellow camouflage
pants, that no doubt will come in handy next time we
we're at war with sun, to get the big
win.
Winners:
Rob Van Dam & Rey Mysterio. Mexicans and marijuana
co-existing in ways not seen since Cheech and Chong. And oh
ya, once again, thank god WWE had the foresight to
have RVD's theme ready to go half way through this match.
They must've been real confident he'd pull off the
win...
-Backstage, strange noises are coming from Booker T's
dressing room. Josh Matthews then opens the door and sees Book
reenacting a voodoo ritual with his little bag of dirt. Excuse
me, a bag of voodoo dirt. Yes sir. Where's
James Brown when you need him? I have a new song for him to
write. "Papa Shango's Got A Brand New Bag". It works on
so many levels.
-Kurt Angle's music hits, and Luther
Reigns wheels the world's biggest Laundry hamper to the
ringside area, when all of a sudden Kurt Angle floats to the
top. If only it was through a ring of fire, he could change
his name to Angrel. Hell, the "you suck" chants might even
start to make more sense.
Kurt,
wheelchair bound, then bad mouths L.A., stating he hopes
they're done in by a huge Earthquake. Although, as big of a
fan as I am of John Tenta, I doubt he'd have the energy to sit
on 20,000 people. Oh, he meant, umm, never mind. Kurt then
calls out Torrie Wilson, and says he blames her for his
injuries at the (skillet-like) hands of the Big Show. This
motherfucker should be happy he's still alive. And speaking of
which, how is it that Kurt can fall two stories onto cement
and still be alive, and Hulk Hogan can throw Big Show off the
roof of a building...and he can still comeback two
hours later and win the title; but Owen Hart dies
from a similar fall? Clearly, only main-eventers are
impervious to death. Clearly. Kurt then informs Torrie
she'll face Dawn Marie next, and if Torrie loses (ha!) she'll
be fired. Ya, that's certainly easier than just canning her
outright. Jesus, Kurt's worse than a fucking Bond
villain. Which is ironic, because the motherfucker looks just
like Blofeld anyway. All he needs is the
cat.
Dawn Marie vs.
Torrie Wilson;
Michael
Cole states that the reason Dawn "hates Torrie" is because she
was a "Playboy Cover-girl". Ya, she hated her SO MUCH, that
she MURDERED HER FATHER BY FUCKING HIM TO DEATH. Why is it
that no one ever mentions this anymore? But on a side
note, I can only hope that one day a woman hates my daughter
that much. I can't think of a better way to leave this
earth...
Not a
terrible match by non-wrestling Divas standards, but it
definitely went a little too long. My motto is if it lasts
longer than it takes me to masturbate to it, then it runs too
long. I guess 30 second squashes are a little to much to ask
for, though. That's right ;)
Anyway, the crowd is sitting on their
hands here (or like me, have them preoccupied) and the
only time they really popped was when Dawn had a
"wardrobe malfunction" as Torrie rolled her up, tearing her
pants and exposing her ass. It's just then I get the visual of
the tights Patterson ordered for Grenier accidentally ending
up in Dawn's possession. Dawn then continues to wrestle with
her ass showing, and Torrie gets another roll-up for the
win.
Winner:
Torrie-berg, who unlike us dudes, can tear the pants off
a woman and roll her up, and still not spend
the night in jail. Good for her.
/5
-John
"Bradshaw" Layfield is backstage being interviewed. Tonight
he's winning the title for HIS America; an America where every
one speaks English. Funny, somehow, I think if JBL was
in charge of immigration, the amount of cavity
searches would increase exponentially. And latex wouldn't be
just be relegated to the hands. Just
saying.
Mordecai
vs. Scotty 2 Hotty
This is
Mordecai's big debut. He comes to the ring carrying a big
metal cross. Good luck nailing anyone to that. And we get the
announcement of his first SINNER: Scotty 2 Hotty!...who I
guess has committed the unpardonable sin of having a really,
really dated gimmick. Dear God Scotty (No pun intended), you
can just wrestle now, fucking Russo's been gone for
YEARS.
Anyway, Mordecai dominates, and he surprisingly has a
pretty good repertoire of wrestling moves for a dude hidden
away his entire life by monks. But since they don't talk, how
do they call the spots? IT'S A MYSTERY. And speaking of
mysteries, as in "why does this guy have a fucking job?",
Michael Cole states that HE'S NEVER SEEN
SCOTTY MANHANDLED LIKE THIS. Turns out Cole has never
seen a Scotty match in his fucking life. A life I'd gladly
take. I wonder if complete ridiculousness is a sin. We can
only hope. Anyway, Scotty tries to fight back, from
Mordecai's slow motion offense. Normally I'd suggest
that he just kick Mordy low, but knowing his luck,
Mordecai probably wore a cup... the Cup of Christ!
Haha. Chances are I just wanted to make that joke. Anyway,
Mordecai eventually finishes Scotty with a Razor's Edge that Cole labels
a "Crucifix" (Symbol?). Ya, that's not going to offend
anybody. Oh, ya. That's good enough to get the win. I
guess God's plan to punish us all is to subject us to
Mordecai's wrestling. I already feel like I've turned over a
new leaf! I have found Jesus! It turns out he was behind the
sofa all along! Who'd have thunk
it.
Winner:
Mordecai, the Fanatical Christian zealot with a Jewish name. I
heard his brother Shlomo is a televangelist. Good for
him.
/5
-Backstage, we see the Chavos. Chavo Classic
has his pants around his ankles and is standing there in his
underwear. Am I the only one curious as to why? If you're not
wrestling, why take the pants you were already wearing off?
Anyway, Jacqueline enters the scene and gives Chavo Junior a
present containing a Bra and panties. But since it's
her bra, it can hold WORLDS. Chavo
then cuts a promo as we see Classic in the background
sizing the underwear up. Funny stuff as usual from
Classic.
(C) Rico
& Charlie Haas w/ Miss Jackie vs. Ass Pluggs (Billy
Gunn & Bob Holly) : WWE Tag Team
Titles.
Man, it's
like Vince McMahon somehow entered my subconscious, and
purposely booked a tag team comprised of my two least
favorite people ever, just to spite me. Bob Holly
alone is intolerable enough, but when you add Billy to the
equation, Dear lord. That's like learning you
have AIDS, and as you leave the clinic, someone tosses
the fucking Ebola monkey at you. You just can't win.
Unfortunately though, this match can't end in death like that
analogy, but it sure as hell makes you pine for
it.
This is of course for the tag team titles.
Normally, they'd give the title shot to "the Dudley",
but they're technically one person now, so that just left Ass
Pluggs, ironically enough for Rico, and his new partner
Charlie Haas to face. I'd ask just why Billy & Bob
even deserve a World Tag team title shot, but
apparently Gunn & Holly
have been a full time team for weeks now; but sadly, the only
people aware of this fact are the sad, lonely souls who
watch Velocity on Saturday nights. Normally, that'd include
me, but I like to pretend I'm an 18 year old first year
college student online that night. Wait. Did I say that out
loud?
With that said, Holly and Gunn only want
into the match when Charlie's in there, as they apparently
want no part of Rico, who Cole once again reminds us was
once a Las Vegas police officer. Dear God. At least in L.A.
the worst that can happen is 6 officers pulling you from
the car and beating you to death. I don't even want to venture
a guess as to what your fate would be at Rico's precinct.
Rico
isolates Billy and gropes him, then takes him down and mounts
him on the canvas. At this point we're made to believe that a
guy (Billy Gunn) who calls himself "Mr. Ass"... and WAS
ENGAGED TO A MAN, is wierded out by Rico's "gayness". I guess
it's Ok for Chuck Palumbo to unload a Cactus Jack-style bag of
Benwa balls (not to be confused with the awesome parties Chris
Benoit throws) into his asshole, but Rico rubbing his hands on
his chest turns his stomach. Go figure. Billy tries to
tag out to Bob Holly, but he doesn't want none of Rico, who
somewhat resembles a sexually curious Wolverine from X-Men
here. I imagine his claws are just five dildos on the ends of
his fingers. And believe you me, you don't even want
to ask him to show you Cyclops. Trust
me.
Haas tags
back in, and Holly & Ass isolate him, with Bob delivering
THE BEST DROPKICK IN THE BUSINESS. However, the sheer
magnitude of a hold everyone else on fucking earth uses
as a transition move doesn't keep Charlie down. Imagine that.
There's a reason no one's coined "BEST BODYSLAM IN THE
BUSINESS", Bob. Just saying. Holly then gets his elevated
low kick on the ropes, and tags back out to Billy, who goes up
top and gets caught with Charlie's boot. No one in wrestling
history has ever explained to me just what the fuck guys
are supposed to be doing when this spot goes down. "Ya, I
think I'll just jump off the top rope with my arms at my
side and hope for the best here, and..wait, is that a
foot?...BLARRGHH". Haas ends up making a tag to Rico, but
Billy catches him with the Fameasser, but not before Haas
makes a blind tag. From there, Holly ends up trying to
deliver the Alabama Slam to Charlie, but Rico comes in and
hits the superkick, that I demand be renamed "The Fabulous
kick," and Charlie floats out and over into a sunset flip for
the win.
Winners and STILL Champions: Rico &
Charlie Haas. The World's Greatest Gayest tag
team, Or the Sexuals, Homo & Metro. Take your
pick. All I know is it'd be impossible to be gay with
Miss Jackie around. She could make any guy straight. In
more ways than one...
/5
-Backstage, Paul Bearer says tonight will be
Booker T's "Judgment Day. Hey! That's the name of this
pay-per-view! What are the odds?
Chavo Guerro w/
Classic vs. (C) Jacqueline w/ balloon tits; Cruiserweight
Title.
You know it's bad when all of a
sudden fucking Oklahoma in WCW starts looking like a
credible Cruiserweight champion. I mean, is Jacqueline even a
cruiserweight? Her tits alone probably weigh more than half
the roster. How'd she ever contend for this
title?
Anyway,
just so you know, Chavo has to have one hand tied behind his
back, because let's face it, an able-bodied man wrestling a
diminutive woman for a Championship might come
across as a little absurd
otherwise...
Chavo dominates early, hitting a one armed
backbreaker. Eventually, Jacqueline makes her comeback
to...complete apathy. They must be piping in silence~!
It's like Goldberg, only the
complete opposite! Michael Cole then covers for the lack of
reaction saying that Jackie's "all pumped up" for this
match, and well, this joke kind of explains itself. Chavo
tries to get the advantage, but Jacqueline keeps fighting
back because her chest consistently allows her
to bounce back like one of those punching bag clowns. She then
applies a SLEEPER to Chavo. Ya, let's slow this thing down!
Great idea! Bleh. Anyway, Classic ends up distracting the referee
allowing Chavo to use both hands to administer a
beating. Chavo then implants (HIYO) Jacqueline
into the canvas with an illegal (alien?) two-handed
Gory-bomb to regain the Title. Thank the
maker.
Winner and
NEW Cruiserweight Champion: Chavo Guerrero. Hopefully, this is
the last we see of this feud. Chavo can hopefully now
move on to greener pastures, and Jackie can put that chest to
some good use, like perhaps floating refugees safely into
harbor.
/5
(C) John
Cena w/ perpetual crowd support vs. Rene Dupree w/
perpetual erection and no umm, "support": U.S.
Title.
Holy shit,
a U.S. Title match! When was the last time we saw one of
those? Has the mandatory umm, 250 days expired already?
Seriously though, what was the point of bringing this belt
back if no one ever defends it? This fucking title sees
about as much action as a fat kid in a Star Wars
T-shirt.
Anyway,
what we have here is "Dese Nuts" vs. umm, "Dat Penis"? Dear
lord. And what's the point of Cena throwing little bags of
nuts to the crowd? As if wrestling needs more gay symbolism in
it. They might as well have had Rene follow suit
with a cucumber to hammer it all home.
Cena controls the tempo early, but the
two eventually end up outside, where Dupree rams
Cena into the steel post. Back in the ring, Dupree gets hung
(HIYO) on the turnbuckle, Cena then charges, but
Dupree moves, which allows Cena to fly (for a white
guy) to the outside. Dupree works him over back
inside, but Cena rallies and hits the protobomb, and goes for
the Five Knuckle Shuffle, but misses. Dupree then goes for his
own Five knuckle shuffle, which in his fucking case would
clearly require more fingers, if we were talking its
literal meaning. Unfortunately, Dupree misses his
five-knuckle (Cinq knuckle?), and Cena goes back on
offense. More back and forth from there with a
series of nearfalls. Cena then charges Dupree in the corner,
but Dupree floats over, but is caught by Cena and F-U'd
for the win.
Winner
& STILL Champion: John Cena. Now all we have to do is
give Koko B. Ware a call and see if he has any of those
baggy-assed High Energy pants left, so he can
donate them to Rene's cause. At least until someone can
slip some saltpeter into this motherfucker's
drink.
[Sean's
note from 2007: Turns out Koko would have been no
help. All of those pants went up in an unfortunate house
fire. Sadly, Frankie the macaw was also a casualty. You know,
maybe he'd have survived had Koko taught him to say "FIRE!"
instead of just "pretty bird". Just
saying.].
-Kenzo
Suzuki is on his way to SmackDown. Originally, he was going to
be called Hirohito, but I guess someone in the office figured
out booking wrestlers as WW2 War criminals might be offensive.
That and Heidenreich wasn't able to grow a little
mustache.
The Undertaker w/
Paul Bearer vs. Booker T. w/Juju bag.
Before the
match starts, Booker stares intently at his mysterious little
bag. I then laugh at the irony of this probably marking the
first time in L.A. history that a black man could carry a
mysterious little bag on him, and not be accosted by the
Police. Lucky Booker.
Anyway,
the pace is set to METHODICAL here, so much so, that when I
looked over at my brother he was suddenly 60, then a few
minutes later his unborn children were morbidly laying
some roses where he was sitting. True story. Anyway, I could
recap this match, but I think you may have seen it. FOR 14
YEARS STRAIGHT. So, instead I'm going to mention a few of the
dumb-assed things that Cole said during the match; including
telling us that Undertaker possesses "the innate ability to
block pain". Funny, WWE pay-per-views have also allowed me to
acquire this very same ability. Imagine that. Anyway, Taker
manhandles Booker, but he keeps looking back to his bag in the
corner for guidance. Weird. I wonder if that bag smells like
burning grass. That may explain Booker's strategy here. It's
at this point that Michael Cole fires off another witticism,
stating that there is "serious question as to whether
Undertaker is really alive or dead". Funny, there was
that same speculation for Rob Van Dam back when he was on RAW
last year.
Anyway,
Booker ends up finally getting the advantage when he tosses
the contents of the bag into Undertaker's face. However, last
time I checked, a "bag of dirt" never stopped Freddy or
Jason's undead ass, and strangely, it doesn't work this
time either. Go figure. Undertaker then ends up surviving
a scissors kick, and comes back with a chokeslam and tombstone
to pick up the win.
Winner: The only zombie with
a tan I've ever seen, The
Undertaker.
/5
(C) Eddie
Guerrero vs. John Bradshaw Layfield. WWE Championship
match
Got to
love WWE keeping the "Bradshaw" handle in the middle of JBL's
name as a throwback to his previous gimmick. However, it
doesn't exactly fit a Wall Street banker (and I bet those
other bankers are happy there's no showers in that
office). I mean, imagine if other famous money men in
history had a similar redneck edge to their names. John Cletus
Rockefeller. William Joe-Bob Hearst. Andrew
Jethro Carnegie. Donald Buddy-Lee Trump. You get the
idea. Actually, I kid, JBL. Who am I to judge this man? He's a
financial WIZARD. (seriously. Great book). JBL knows
stocks. JBL knows bonds. JBL knows
pork-bellies. And not just because he has one. Ok, I'm done.
(Thank God).
The match
started quite slow and plodding as they worked the 1999 "brawl
everywhere but the ring" shtick for the first ten minutes
or so. The match picked up pace soon after and really got
interesting after a ref bump. Both men spill to the floor, and
Eddie tosses JBL onto, hilariously enough, the ENGLISH
announce table. In the Bizarro world, Michael Cole & Tazz
are always unable to finish calling matches because
their table always gets obliterated. It's at this point I try
and figure out if there is indeed a scientifically
possible way I can get a hold of that
feed. Oh well.
Anyway,
while on the floor, Eddie walks into a chair shot SO STIFF, it
makes the perpetual erection of Rene Dupree look like,
well, whatever the opposite of that is. Wait. THAT'S THE
SOLUTION TO RENE'S DISTURBING ERECTION. Bust him open! Once
enough blood drains out, he'll have to forfeit it from
his penis as well, or risk permanent brain damage! IT'S
GENIUS. Anyway, speaking of blood, Eddie is bleeding buckets
of it here. Cole then astutely points out that Eddie is
"bleeding like a sieve". A sieve? Jesus, remind me to never
buy my faucets from the same place Cole does. Just
saying. Back inside, JBL punishes Eddie, and even hits
the clothesline relocated from Hell to New York. Personally, I
think he should just compromise and call it the "Clothesline
from Hell's Kitchen" and be done with it. There's no referee,
so a second one scoots in, but Eddie kicks out at two. JBL
then obliterates him with a HUGE powerbomb, but that too only
gets two. JBL then tries a sleeper, but Eddie, looking
seriously fucked up and groggy, counters behind with a suplex.
JBL tries a desperation fall-away slam, but somehow Eddie
counters out into a DDT. He then heads upstairs
looking for the frogsplash, but there's no water in the pool,
err Gulf of Mexico as it were, and he crashes and burns.
JBL then grabs the WWE Title, but misses a swing, and Eddie
retrieves it, and clobbers JBL to draw a disappointing
disqualification.
After the
match, he busts open JBL, and crushes him with a frogsplash.
Good match. Bad ending.
Winner by
DQ: JBL. After the match, Stephanie runs out and mops up
the blood and sends it to Red Cross because she heard they
give you a piece of pizza every time you donate. She then
leaves the arena with 15 large Pepperoni's and everyone's
happy. OK, this didn't really happen. But it could have. I
think. Maybe?
End
show.
FINAL THOUGHTS:
A lot of
people were honestly expecting a PPV the levels of "Heroes of
Wrestling" tonight, but it was nowhere near that bad. As a
matter of fact, it wasn't even the worst WWE PPV ever. But
hey, normally that's like saying, you only got a "mild case of
terminal cancer". Ah, I kid. It wasn't that bad. In
fact, the main event and the opening tag were quite good, so
this one gets a big thumb of uppery from me. Now someone get
Eddie's ass to the hospital. And if he needs a transfusion,
well, someone track down Rene Dupree. He has more than enough
to give....
WWE
/5