Woah. Black screen. Did RAW get cancelled already? Awesome. I’m going out for dinner the…oh. Never mind.

(Opening Credits)

Here comes the Stephanie! Despite what you might hear in other columns on this site, she’s got the same music as she ever did. Would you hate me if I said that I kinda like Stephanie? If yes…then ignore that I said that. What a disease dumpster!

Pestilence McMahon-Test-Helmsley-Levesque-Angle- Jericho-Gowan-Kedrick-Steiner-Bischoff-McMahon: Who the hell do you people think you are?! Steve Austin Stunners us and all you can do is cheer?! HELLO! I’m Pestilence McMahon! Is it my big boobs you hate?! Is it because I got to ride around on the train on the set of Silver Spoons? Is it because I hired the guy who played Mr. Belvedere to be my actual, live-in butler? Perhaps it’s the way I have sex with all the wrestlers! You really hate it when I do that, don’t you? I need a cough drop! And to slap somebody!

She slides out and slaps WWE RAW Time Keeper Mark Yeaton. Poor Mark Yeaton. He’s had a rough last fifteen years, what with constantly getting pushed out of the way when wrestlers go for chairs. But I don’t blame Stephanie, really. I mean, Yeaton clearly has it out for her. She beheads him with her shoe. That he probably could have done without. Then, for good measure, she goes over and slaps the crap out of Lillian Garcia. Trying to start her on fire no doubt. It doesn’t work. Man, it’s a bad day to be working over in that little corner. Not that it’s ever a good day. Stephanie makes her way over to the announce table and she hops up. Coach and Lawler sneak a quick peak up her skirt. Poor J.R. can’t see through his hat.

Pestilence: Am I evil yet? Do you all hate me! You all missed me, right?! SOMEBODY BOO!

Who will be fired tonight? My money is on WWE RAW Referee Chad Patton. Sorry, Chad.

(ads)

Doink has a WWE Legends Tag! Rob Conway has the mic. Uh?

Rob Conway: Folks, I just wanted you to know. I’m not a gay biker, ok? And I’m not Buff Bagwell. I’m the new Randy Orton, ok? Midcard Randy Orton! I’m like…the minor Legend killer. I’m going to kill late 80s/early 90s jobbers and actually talk so you can understand me.

Ok, then. Doink doesn’t fall over at this news, much to the consternation of Conway. Lawler spends the entire match talking about his feud with Dink and the introduction of Dr. Isaac Yankem DDS. This is probably the closest thing to intelligent commentary Lawler’s offered in about…ever? Needs more Dentists. Doink jumps around, obviously excited to learn that somebody either than Chris Jericho remembers he exists, and unfortunately slips on a banana peel. Orton…err…Conway Wins! Eugene runs out to tell Doink that he was the best character to use on WWF Wrestlemania, but Conway knocks him down because he knows that you can’t say WWF on television anymore. I always liked Razor Ramon anyway. Next week, Conway takes on Abe Knuckleball Schwartz.

The announcers talk about the firings.

Jerry Lawler: I heard J.R. is getting fired!
Jim Ross: Yeah. That’s what I read on Wrestlingnewz420.net. Jim Ross Fired Live 2night?! DOINK TO RETURN?! Kevin Nash breaks SPLEEN?! Plus hot naked pics of a fully nude Nitro Girl Spice giving people hot lesbian chiropracticy?! CLICK HERE!! I clicked and I clicked, but I never did find that article about Nash’s spleen.
Jonathan Coachman: I heard Goldberg was replacing you.
Lawler: That’s just ridiculous!
Ross: Of all the people to fire on this commentary team…sigh.

My guess for the firing? That blonde ringside photographer! He’s not Asian at all!

(ads)

Hey! Carlito’s Cabana! If you watched the WWE.com feed, you got to see some dudes set it up. It was enthralling. Like watching a little mini version of nWo Nitro, but with less crotch chopping. Who’s on the ol’ Cabana tonight, Carlito?

Carlito Caribbean Cool: Hey, guys. Back to the Cabana again, I guess. That’s kind of cool. Anyway, I heard somewhere that people were kind of pissed about that whole “draw” in the 30 Minute Copper Man Match, so for my guest I’d like to bring out….

Here’s Kurt Angle!

Kurt Angle: Thanks for the invite, Carlito. It’s a real pleasure to be here.
Carlito: I was actually going to call out Whoopi Goldberg to chastise her for not listening to the Ghost of Gorilla Monsoon’s pleas to restart the match.
Angle: We couldn’t afford her two weeks in a row. So all you get is me.
Carlito: Why didn’t you restart the match?
Angle: Any extra time we used would have subtracted time from the show, which would have meant that they probably would have cut some time off the Smackdown entrances, and I really wanted to see Chris Tian’s entrance.
Carlito: I’ll accept that answer.
Angle: Here’s a fun trivia fact: Did you know I killed WCW?
Carlito: No I didn’t.

Here’s Shawn Michaels out for a good natured prance! What’s this you’ve come upon, Shawn? An interview segment?! How novel!

Shawn Michaels: Man, WCW would never have fallen if not for Kevin Nash’s poor abused spleen. The little guy had heart, but it just couldn’t last. Anyway, I’ve thought about it, and I agree with Kurt. We shouldn’t have finished that match. This way we both keep our heat so that we can give a rub to the next guy down the line. Like Kurt is for Cena and I am for…er…Whyspyr?
Carlito: Oh, I rubbed one out to Whyspyr last night.
 I CAST THEE OUT SATAN!

When Carlito’s hair doesn’t react to Shawn’s demandment, he sits down and fixes himself a Mai Tai. Strangely, instead of Scott Hall, this draws out Big Show.

Big Show: I’m big and fat! You know what? I think I should be WWE Champion.
HBK: Can’t argue with that logic!

Edge and Lita trot out too. Well, now it’s just a party out here, isn’t it?

Edge: I think everybody is forgetting, I’m the only one with a title shot here.
HBK: Correction! I think you meant to say, “Everybody but me (me being you, Edge) forgot that I had a title shot like, two friggin’ months ago.
Lita: Look at these tits. These are the tits of a girlfriend of a champion!
Angle: Bestiality sex!
Carlito: Who said anything about a title shot? Can I have a title shot?
HBK, Angle, Show, Edge, and Lita: NO!
Carlito: But…I’m cool!
Angle: Man, I’m glad nobody else is watching this segment! Or else everybody would be out here asking for title matches.
Show: Why do you think we did it on the Cabana, stupid! Nobody back there ever watches this crap!
Carlito: Oh shucks.

Here’s John Cena. Oh don’t tell me they’re going to make me vote on an Elimination Chamber at Taboo Tuesday. Carlito? In an Elimination Chamber?! CARLITO?!

John Cena: In lieu of cutting a promo, I have put together this rap:

Shawn Michaels, HBK
They should call you HBGay
Because it rhymes you see,
Mirror Chaps, aren’t for me!

HBK: Don’t knock it ‘til you tried it!

Hey there, Big Show,
You’re Really slow!
It must because you’re fat,
Also you’re very tall!

Show: That didn’t even rhyme! Mine didn’t rhyme!

Kurt Angle, you’re really dumb,
You also look like a giant thumb,
I’m glad you guard your mouth,
Because I yearn for you down south!

Angle: A gay joke. Great. Why’d I agree to job to you again?

Carlito, you’re not cool,
Your mouth is filled with drool,
Every day I get up for school,
Even though I’m too old for school.

Carlito: I really liked how he rhymed school with school there.

Edge and Lita you’re quite the pair,
Even though the best pair is right there,
By that I mean Lita’s titties,
Bouncing up and down across the cities,
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not queer,
THE CHAMP IS HERE!

Edge: What the hell was that? Can a girl get a salad here?

Lita: Still not over, honey.

IMPROMPTU CABANA DANCE PARTY!

Meanwhile, backstage, lesbian tension grows as Trish asks if Ashley would like to rub lotion on Trish’s enormous breasts using her tongue. Ashley jumps at the task but quickly discovers that lotion doesn’t taste very good. I learned that lesson the hard way. It also doesn’t go very well with ice cream. WWE: An Equal Opportunity Employer!

Who’s going to get fired? Hopefully not me! You, maybe?

(ads)

On WWE.com: Maria Tennyson Lund and Tough Enough Jessie are back in the Bischoffice. Bischoff tells them to go away or else they’ll get fired. They run sobbing into the night.

Tajrii v. Iron Chef Wrestling, Chris Masters
In a Coconut Rice Battle

Shinichiro Ohta: Fukui-San!
Kenji Fukui: Go ahead!
Ohta: The Iron Chef has GOT to be rusty. It’s been a while since his last Iron Chef challenge. Are we on the Food Network again, yet?
Fukui: No we’re not!
Dr. Yukio Hatori: I love coconut rice. It goes good with just about everything and is the ultimate sweet pallet cleanser.
Fukui: My mother was killed by coconut rice.
Hatori: I can only hope I die so well.
Ohta: Fukui-San!
Fukui: Go ahead!
Ohta: The challenger is spewing food coloring all over his dishes. That’s gross.
Hatori: So much for that guy! Crap. I put a bunch of money on him too.
Fukui: He can’t even win and he’s from Japan. Don’t spit on your food, kids. Join us next week when we find out who will win! Who will reign supreme?!

Triple H is wandering around backstage. Shawn Michaels approaches.

Shawn Michaels: What you did to Ric Flair last week? That was wrong, man! That guy was your best friend!
Triple H: Well, if it isn’t the morality police. Where the hell were you when this was going down? Huh? You could have saved him.
HBK: I was…uh…shining my mirror chaps. It…it’s a very important job.
HHH: Out of my way!

As Hunter walks through the halls, the other workers all give him dirty looks. Cade, Murdoch, Viscera, WWE RAW Referee Jack Doan, Steamboat kind of gives him a thumbs up, actually. Hunter looks away from Tomko. When Tomko’s looking down at you, you know you’ve done something very, very wrong. Hunter runs right into Big Show.

HHH: What do you want?
Big Show: What you did to Ric Flair was wrong, and you better be careful, because I’m big and fat and I’m thinking seriously about falling on top of you right now.
HHH: Didn’t the nWo beat him up and drag him into the desert?!
Show: Yeah. That was pretty awesome actually. Heh. You’re good to go, man. Just stop beating up old people so much.
HHH: God, you people are slave drivers here. Don’t beat up old people, don’t punch Maria in the face, quit stealing J.R.’s hat. It’s like a friggin’ prison.
John Cena: YO Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo-
HHH: Oh fer, what do yo-
Cena: YO!
HHH: Don’t you dare cut-
Cena: YO!
HHH: You really want to job to me really bad, don’t you?
Cena: THE CHAMP IS HERE!
HHH: You’re damn right I am! I AM THE GA-
Cena: Hear that? He’s THE GAY everybody! You can’t see me!
HHH: You listen here you little runt, if you think what I did to Flair-
Cena: I don’t want to hear it! You want some? Come get some! You don’t like me?! BITE ME!
HHH: Is that what this show has come to? Stealing from Rick Stei-
Cena: CHAIN GANG in the HOUSE!
HHH: Woah. Talking to you is like talking to a brick wall. I bow to your promo skills.
Cena: THE CHAMP IS HERE!

Who’s going to get fired? After that last skit, probably John Cena.

(ads)

On WWE.com: Todd Grisham is sent into the crowd to find the Best Signs in the Audience. When the best he can find is “Chris is No Master,” he cardboard cuts himself to death.

Triple H is in the ring. What’s the haps, Hunter?

Triple H: A lot of people must be wondering why I attacked Ric Flair last Monday night. Really? Why the hell would you wonder that? I’m tired of hanging out with old people. When Batista and Orton were around, it was cool. He’d keep them off my back, and I only had to listen to his nagging every once in a while when he got going on his little rants about whatsit and even then, Dave’d shut him up quick. Now? All Flair all the time. It’s just plain too much. There’s only so many times you can hear the “Space Mountain, fat boy” line before it gets old, man. So many times. Plus there’s the thing about him settling for the I.C. title, and the thing where he’s going around telling everybody he’s my best friend, and who doesn’t hate those people? It’s just a lot of little things. Like how he won’t let me listen to Sarah Mac in the limo, because she makes him irritable. Or like how he was tearing me apart from Nibblins. In a fight between you and Nibblins for my heart, Geezer McWheezer, Nibblins wins every time. So why don’t you go back to that retirement home, and don’t ever put your manboobs into my pool ever again? Ok?

(ads, Maven is in the new movie Doom, and he can‘t WAIT to get back into the ring. Well, I think it‘ll probably take more than finding the red key to make that fantasy come true there, Mr. Huffman.)

On WWE.com: Edge and Lita make fun of Dusty Rhodes. If you wheeeeeeeel.

Victoria v. Trish Stratus
For the WWE Women’s Title

Victoria’s Diva Action Squad Diva Diva Action, isn’t out here tonight due to strained breast ligaments. I certainly wish them all the best in their recovery. Hope they don’t need surgery. Victoria takes control early on with her patented GO GO GO GO GO offense, but Trish recovers for the win. After the match, Victoria attacks Trish, drawing Ashley from backstage to help. But silly old Ashley can’t do anything against Victoria, so it’s up to Alexis Laree to run out from the crowd and put an end to this. Helloooooooo Alexis!

Who’s going to get fired? My money is on Doink.

(ads)

On WWE.com: Torrie and Boobsie struggle down to ringside to help Victoria, but they don’t make it and all three women are stretchered off. Soldier on, brave, brave women.

Backstage, Alexis is with Ashley and Trish.

Trish Stratus: Who the hell are you?
Alexis Laree: Alexis Laree.
Ashley Massaro: I’m sorry, did you just say WWE RAW Referee Mickey Jay?
Alexis Laree: No. Alexis Laree.
Trish Stratus: Who?
Laree: Come on! I was in TNA! OVW?
Ashley: I don’t know what any of those mean.
Laree: WEW?
Trish: Oh! You were the girl in that porn!
Laree: Yay! You remembered!
Trish: Girl, come on. Leg Fancy?!
Alexis: I was young! Don’t judge!

Vince’s limo is parked in the arena. Ooooh! Dramatic!

Who will be fired tonight? OH! OH! VINCE!

(ads)

On WWE.com: Kurt Angle, Edge and Carlito make out. Edge and Carlito complain that Angle’s mouth guard feels funny.

Everybody in this match is gunning for John Cena. Including WWE RAW Referee Mi-Mi-Mi-Miiiiike Chioda who is long overdue for a push. Too bad he can’t work the main event style. Which apparently includes waving your hand in front of your face and owning a rhyming dictionary. Well, I’m halfway there. I have hands. Maybe Cena just never knows when a strobe light is going to pop up. I’ve been there before, believe me. Big Show hops into the ring and caber tosses some people for a while. Crazy Go Nuts. Call me stupid, but I love Big Show’s silly power offense. Oh! Break time!

(ads)

Shawn Michaels takes control of the match. I wonder what happened to Masters being in these. This may be a spoiler, but I’m going to miss J.R.’s calling of these kinds of matches. He may not know who any of these people are, but damned if he doesn’t make it exciting. “He’s eating the whole HOAGIE, KING! BY GOD! That man has just stuffed an entire sandwich in his mouth!” Everybody bails leaving poor Cena in the ring by himself. Did he fart or something? Maybe he has bird flu. It was those damned Geese! Curse their black souls!

(ads)

Do geese even have souls? I don’t think the Ducks would be flapping around backstage giving John Cena the bird flu. They’re classier than that. Hell, somebody will figure out a way to blame it on HHH, I’m sure. Angle is the brave soul who dares attack Cena, and he does so by putting him in the Ankle Lock. Cena rolls through with an Ankle Lock of his own, but Angle rolls through that again and gets the pin. They just used that exact same finish for the women’s match. Geez. Angle celebrates while everybody else tries to keep their distance. No pandemics for them, thank you.

Who will get fired tonight? Easy! Rico! What do you mean “He already was?”

(ads)

On WWE.com: Vince assures Bischoff that he won’t be the one fired. Damn. There goes that $50.

For Kane, the fire still burns. He should get that checked out. I blame Lita.

Anyway, Vince has a mic. He’s here to determine the fate of RAW IS WAR

War McMahon: I guess you’ll all be wondering who is getting fired tonight! That’s right, who is getting fired!

In Calgary, Alberta, Canada….

Jim Neidhart: NOOOOOOOOO!

Back at RAW….

War: Well, let me tell you something, because, in this very ring here tonight, someone is going to get fired. But it won’t be Stone Cold Steve Austin, oh no! He’s still pissed off at me about letting Hogan run wild all over RAW last week. No, and it sure as hell won’t be Bischoff because I love humiliating him so much. So I guess I’m going to have to fire you fans!

Uh…Ok?

War: Wait! Wait! Don’t go anywhere. What I meant to say was…here’s some announcers!

Sure enough, Jerry Lawler, Jonathan Coachman, and Jim Ross are all standing neatly in the ring.

War: Now, none of you ran out to save me last week. How come is that?
Coach: Didn’t you fire Savage for doing that once? We were sore afraid!
War: Er…Did I? Woah. I probably did. Well…forget it then. Just apologize for not mentioning how awesome it is to have us back on TV again. Coach?
Coach: You know the Coach loves him some McMahons! I’m sorry.
War: I love you too, Coach. Lawler? Give it up!
Lawler: Vince, you know me! I’m all over McMahonia! It’s great to see Stephanie back! WOOHOO! Puppies!
War: We’re going to have to have a talk about who the dominant lecherous old man is, but…I guess that was kind of like an apology. You can go. J.R.? Come on! You know it’s great to see us all again!
Jim Ross: Quite frankly, Mr. McMahon, I’m not sure about all that. I mean, you all try to hire another announcer behind my back, you put it all up on WWE.com, make me answer an e-mail about it in the Ross Report, and then as soon as the guy quits on you, you put me out here and expect me to come out here and put you over? Forget that crap!
War: Woah! Kayfabe much? Taker? Little help here?
The Voice of the Undertaker: Sorry, dude. Not this week. I was burned alive!
War: Uh…how does that affect your disembodied voice?
Voice of Taker: This is the last appearance of it until I show up on Smackdown with a mask and a voice box. I’m the new Kane!
War: Well, Smackdown does need more Kane. Pestilence, get out here and help daddy.

Stephanie makes her way to the ring.

Pestilence: Look deep into my cleavage and tell me it’s not good to see me back, J.R.
J.R.: I don’t particularly want to be Pedigreed, ma’am, so I’m afraid I’m going to pass.
Pestilence: Daddy! The titties aren’t working!
War: Plan B! Plan B! Death dance out here and kill him!

But wait! Linda McMahon’s shining light stops them. NO! She looks…emaciated!

Famine McMahon: Vince, I can’t have you do that to poor Old J.R. He just needs to lose some weight that’s all. Then he’ll be back in tip top shape. You’ll see.
War: What the hell are you doing cutting promos, woman? Shouldn’t you be in Japan?
Famine: My darling Brock and his manly big knife tattoo will be back soon enough. Until then, let’s play kick the cripple.

Linda kicks J.R. in the balls.

Famine: I win! You’re FIRED! Now to eat his delicious braaaaaaaaaaaaains!

An explosion rocks the building.

Brock Lesnar, Zombie Hunter: Brock Lesnar can’t let you do that, love of Brock Lesnar! Because I, Brock Lesnar, champion of the IWGP and highest of the plane of wrestling champion of the world, will not let the McMahons or any other control the world of its wrestling. It’s not likened unto the competitors!
War: What the hell did he just say?
Randy Orton: I undertook it computatley!
Lesnar: HERE COMES THE PAIN, LINDA!

Not-F5 to Vince! Not-F5 to Stephanie! Not-F5 to Linda! Not-F5 to Orton…just cuz. Brock celebrates with his manly big knife when he is SPEARED!

Goldberg: Not on my ass, you ass! Ass or no ass, this ass is my ass!

He helps J.R. to his feet…and then SPEARS HIM DOWN! FEAR THE SPEAR!

Goldberg: MY ASS! Michael Cole? YOUR ASS IS NEXT!

Where the hell is Shane’s Entrance! I want Shane’s Entrance, dammit!

Next Week: With J.R. out forever, how will Goldberg settle into his new role as WWE’s top announcer? Will Triple H continue to be ostracized or will the lower card heels realize that he’s pretty much their only friend anyway. Plus, The Four Horsemen take on the Four Horsemen in tag team action.

Excerpts from the Casefiles of Dean Malenko
Chapter Nine

I was quickly running out of time. Kane would clam up after too long. Conveniently “forget” details once he had McMahon’s thugs behind him, backing him up. Jeff Hardy lie dead in a volcano, like some kind of brutal Mayan sacrifice, trying to appease a wrestling god that doesn’t even exist, and I owed it to a pair of ladies, on of them my truest love to solve this case, and somehow, like the feeling you get when you know you left the goddamn toaster plugged in again, I knew Kane had my answers. Hopefully, this one last mark knew where Kane was. I’d dallied too long, but I’d tracked down this one last man. He was at a rave club in North Carolina, out of money after pawning the OMEGA title, just slumming in clubs offering to job to the local workers.

I arrived at the club and found it packed with mend wrapped in smarties. It was like my worst technocolor nightmare. Loud screeching and wailing, frail pasty teenagers throwing themselves around the room like a quail with a broken neck, sputtering and flopping around waiting for its dying breath. I realized suddenly how out of place I looked in my fedora and trenchcoat. I broke a glowstick and stuck it in my mouth. Shannon was in the back of the room, sipping a lime margarita with a little umbrella in it, while teen girls, no doubt loopy on X and drunk with his girlish good looks fawned over his ridiculous dragon tattoo. As I approached, the girls scattered. I grabbed him by his neon green tank top.

“PLUR, dude,” he wheezed dreamily.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Peace, Love, Unity, Respect, Narc. I don’t need you hashing my mellow.”

“Just tell me where the hell Kane is, punk, before I put you in a cloverleaf and you really need that pacifier to stop yourself from screaming for help.”

“What? I can’t hear you! This song is too loud.”

“Where IS KANE?!”

“It’s my favorite song too, dude! Let’s dance.”

The kid hit the floor and went into the kind of seizure you only see on crappy television shows. He looked like a fish that just got thrown out of a lake and was now flopping around on the Spinning Tea Cups. I decided that it was time for a little violence. I didn’t mind that either. Grabbing his leg, I yanked him off the floor and slammed him back first into the table. Slamming him back to the floor, I stretched him into a cloverleaf.

“AH! OW! PLUR, dude!”

“KANE! WHERE! IS! KANE?!”

He suddenly lacked the confusion that to this point had etched his face to this point. He smiled the wicked smile of someone who knew something that would complicate my life more than anything else that could be said to me at this point. My stomach dropped out of my body and into the void of the universe as he slowly mouthed the words, “You’re too late. He’s at RAW.”

McMahon had him. All was lost. Vince would never let me win. He’s more interested with his plots and veils of secrecy than he is with justice. And if Kane was back in the fold, that meant trouble for justice and for me. But Mrs. Holly, my darling Lita, and poor unfortunate Jeff Hardy depended on it. Even Vince McMahon wouldn’t be enough to stop me. I pulled up and snapped his legs cleanly. The bastard deserved worse for his part in all this. I pulled my hat down over my face, and left before these drugged out loonies knew what hit them. I had a flight to catch.

To Be Continued….