APPLE DOUGH! It’s John Cena out to chat, and I’ll waste no time in mentioning that he looks silly without his silly belt. Not that he didn’t look silly with his belt, but he’s…sillier. Eh. Let’s just let the man emote, shall we?

What the hell is goin’ on,
I can‘t believe I lost,
One minute I have the girl,
The next, my salad’s untossed!

Edge waited until after my match,
To Cash in Money in the Bank,
He could have waited until after,
I bed the Elimidate Skank.

Now I don’t have a title,
Even after I won on Pay Per View,
But tonight, Edge, we wrestle,
And I’m going to hump you!

Wait, that came out wrong!
Let me make one thing clear.
You can’t beat me, Edge.
Because THE CHAMP IS…

Oh wait, I lost. I forgot already.

Here’s Lita to provide a counter point. Oh, look! She’s got a spinning world title. Maybe Flair bought it for her.

Lita: I just got back from giving Vince McMahon a blowjob. Also, I’d like you to turn your attention to page 14A of your programs, where you can see a picture of Edge with the title belt. This is because Edge won a match last night on Pay Per View. In case you didn’t see it. I’d also like to make mention of the fact that you, and by you, I am referring to the audience, cannot get laid. I know this because instead of spending your money on trying to get laid, you spent it coming here. To a wrestling show. All in the vain attempt that your “Stephanie should have an Abe Orton” sign would make it on TV. Uh…Oh! And another thing. John Cena, you have to extend your feud with Edge out to the Rumble, because we’ve gotta cover Smackdown’s ass again. Oh, and I’m a slut. But I’d never have sex with any of you marks.

Crowd: BOO!

Backstage….

Kurt Angle: How the hell did she do that?

Back in the ring….

Cena: I’m sorry. I was paying attention to your boobies and missed everything you just said.

Crowd: YAY!

Backstage….

Angle: Motherf…Daivari! Get in here! Why didn’t you show any tit?

In the ring….

Lita: Tonight, Edge and I are going to have sex. You all can watch if you want. Or not. You know…whatever. It’s the main event though, so you should probably stay tuned….

Cena: Woman, I bow to your superior promo skills. But allow me to rhyme a little….

I’m checkin’ my beats,
Because Lita’s a slut,
I download her picture,
And bust deez nuts,

You’re a total whore,
But I like it like that,
You’ve been passed around,
More than any ring rat.

I’m the king of the flow,
I’ll give you MY Spear,
I’m back to being a face,
And THE CHA….

Lita: You lost the belt.

Cena: Dammit!

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Ashley Massaro v. Trish Stratus
For the WWE Women’s Title

While I’m ponder what the hell Ashley’s done to deserve a face v. face match against Trish, Alexis Laree starts laying in to Lilian Garcia for announcing Trish as “Kevin Test.” I see the resemblance though. It’s in the eyes. Anyway, after a few minutes spent in Ashley’s Wonderful World of Armbars, Ashley accidentally brushes against Trish’s chest, causing Alexis to attack her in a blind rage. Dammit! This is HER quasi-lesbian storyline! You had your chance, Massaro! Trish, for her part, looks confused, then like she doesn’t give a crap, and then she walks away. Lilian suggest we congratulate our winner via count out, EDGE!

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I guess Rob Van Dam is coming back. I coulda sworn that guy was dead.

Back in the locker room, Vince and Cena are deep in conversation.

Vince McMahon: The hell if I know, John. Look, you don’t think that if I knew programming you against a slutty valet would have been getting you face pops, I wouldn’t have done it? Hell, now I’m just pissed off that Daivari didn’t show a little more ass. What’s important is that there’s going to be live sex here tonight.

John Cena: Did I ever tell you about the time I went to Mexico?

Vince: No.

Cena: Ok, they had this donkey, right and…Hey…Is USA really going to let you get away with this.

Vince: Hell no they won’t! You know very well the whole thing will end in some shocking swerve. Just…don’t come out. That’s neither shocking, nor a swerve.

Cena: I’m planning on jerking off to that segment anyway.

Vince: Atta boy.

Elsewhere….

Iron Chef Wrestling Chris Masters: What’s the deal telling the girl last night that I couldn’t cook! All I can do is cook.

Carlito Caribbean Cool: Listen, man. I was just bailing you out. That girl was crazy. Do you really want to spend the next ten years being chased around the country by some crazy slut?

Masters: Yes.

Carlito: My bad then. Sorry.

Masters: That’s ok. I’ve got a secret to tell you. I can’t really cook.

Carlito: Really?

Masters: Yeah. Iron Chef is rigged, man.

Carlito: Get out!

Masters: Seriously! I’ve never understood the appeal, anyway. Who would watch a rigged sport?

Carlito: Uh….

Masters: And don’t say boxing fans either, because I have it on good authority that boxing isn’t rigged!

Carlito: ….

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Chavo Guerrero v. Rob Conway
In a Royal Rumble Qualifying Match

It’s time to fill in this year’s filler already, huh? I dare WWE to have…say…Stevie Richards win this year. If he does, I’ll send Stephanie $50. She can spend it on some formula, because I don’t think she’ll be breastfeeding. I wonder how long it will take before people realizing that that’s Chavo they’re cheering for. Wait, what the hell is Rob Conway doing on RAW? Is he still trying to find some legends to wrestle? I hear KISS Demon is available again. Hell, I wonder if they bought the KISS Coffin when they bought WCW. When did Conway stop dressing like Buff Bagwell anyway? I guess the point is moot, because he jobs.

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Kurt Angle and Shawn Michaels are sitting backstage.

Kurt Angle: Honest to God. Can you believe that? You flash a little cleavage, and suddenly John Cena’s a face again and his opponent’s a heel. What the hell?

Shawn Michaels: What can you do, man?

Angle: So, I guess we’re partners tonight. Listen, I don’t know about this. After all the hard work I’ve put in over the past year getting over as a heel, I don’t really want to blow it teaming up with you.

Michaels: Maybe you’re getting over as a face because of your superior athletic ability.

Angle: Who the hell are you? The Impact Zone?

Michaels: Shoot me if I ever start acting like that. It’s all I can do to stomache the “Bentley Bounce”.

Angle: Yeah. Daivari! Come here and do the thing that you do!

Khosrow Daivari: Leyleyahleyleyahooooooooh!

Michaels: I thought Sting was in TNA?

Angle: Shut up.

Shelton and his Momma are wandering around backstage.

Momma Benjamin: Shelton! Does that boy work here?

Shelton Benjamin: He’s wearing trunks and boots. What do you think?

Momma: ….

Shelton: ….

Momma: ….

Shelton: Not really, no.

Momma: Hey! Aren’t you The Chief? Boy, I’ve seen all your movies! Star Whores, Full Metal Jerk It, Forrest Hump! Big Billy’s Anal Adventures!

Shelton: MOMMA!

Momma: How would you like a little piece of this anal adventure?

Shelton: I think I’m gonna puke.

Val Venis: The Big Valbowski is always ready to please his fans.

Shelton: Yep there it goes.

Momma: Shelton Benjamin! Don’t be a baby! There ain’t no stoppin’ this ass….NAH!

Shawn prances out and takes control of the match right away by putting himself in a hammerlock, while Angle tries to convince Daivari to show a little thong. Man, I’m with Kurt on this whole trying to be a heel thing, but you do not mess with a man as finely tailored as Daivari. In the meantime, Masters and Carlito spend this portion of the match on the phone with their agents trying to broker a deal for “Carlito Cotton Candy.” I dunno. I usually prefer my cotton candy a little less…nappy.

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For some reason, when we come back, Angle is in the ring wearing a greasy blonde wig. When the crowd pops huge for this, he walks over to the announce table and pouts. Have I mentioned lately that the announce table is now at ringside? Oops. Joey can almost touch the bottom rope from the ground! With nobody to tag, a winded Michaels hot tags himself, kips up, and is suddenly a house afire. When Angle is done pouting, he tags himself in, and inspiration strikes. Smiling the whole way, Angle offers himself up for the Masterlock. Slowly, unsteadily, the wily ring veteran Chris Masters locks his hold onto Angle, and Angle taps out. Masters wins. Realizing suddenly, that Angle has just given Masters yet another win over a former WWE Champion, the crowd boos. Angle smiles. Somewhere, Shawn Michaels Superkicks Daivari. What a bitch.

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Vince and Shawn are backstage.

Vince McMahon: Why are you bleeding? I don’t remember you bleeding during that match!

Shawn Michaels: Oh yeah. That. I accidentally hit my head on Carlito’s hair on the way out of the ring. I don’t want to know what that guy puts in there.

Vince: Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to book Michaels/Angle IV: The War to Settle the Score, next week.

Michaels: Can I have Randy Orton wrestle it instead of me? I have…like…soccer practice.

Vince: Nah. I think even one Orton match per week is kind of pushing it at this point.

Michaels: Fine. At least there’ll be some goddamn wrestling on next week’s show then.

Vince: Don’t bet on it….

Todd Grisham is standing by with Triple H….

Todd Grisham: Todd Grisham here, and I’m with Triple H, and Hunter, last night you successfully defeated a guy who is both tall and fat. What could you possibly do to top that?

Triple H: Todd, did you know that I have a baby on the way? Yeah, Shane isn’t the only McMahon who can pump out little McMahons! I’m back in favor!

Grisham: We’re…we’re not going to talk about wrestling in this interview are we?

HHH: You should’ve seen me, Todd. Pumpin’ and grindin’, I was a machine. A machine designed to make my Little Hunter go! And now that I’ve knocked up Knockers, she’s going to get on the new DX Express and I can finally take Nibblins out on the road with me, and that’s going to be BAD ASS! Oh, man, Todd. I can’t wait until that bitch is fat and laid up so I can finally get around to playing with Nibblins again. Hell, I might have to take Flair back, because somebody’s gonna have to feed Her Plumpness.

Grisham: How in the hell can you live with yourself? That’s terrible. Talk about wrestling.

HHH: Uh…Yeah. So, at Wrestlemania this year, The King of Kings and the Lord of Lords is going to ascend to his throne.

Grisham: At last! Receive me my Savior!

Todd Grisham falls on his sword. Todd Grisham has fallen.

HHH: I meant me. Was that from the Bible or something?

Shawn Michaels: You never learn, man.

Jesus Christ: Yeah. Way to go, jerkass.

Shawn Michaels: And where was your countenance when I needed it last week?

Jesus: Whoops. Gotta run!

And so Jesus ascended through the arena ceiling and back to heaven. Elsewhere, Victoria, Torrie Wilson, and Boobsie McTitsalot have a tickle fight in bed. Then Victoria hits them both with the Widows Peak. Last night, after the PPV….

Edge: Where the hell is Todd Grisham? I was supposed to get some more promo time?

Lita: The Pay Per View is over, baby. Has been for, like, four hours.

Edge: Aw crap. Can a girl get a salad here?

Lita: Look, you’re the World Champion now. Get your ass a catchphrase.

Edge: BANK ON IT!

Lita: That’s a terrible catchphrase.

Edge: Is not! It’s the best catchphrase ever.

Lita: Whatever. Are you ready for hot stea….

Edge: EVER!

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Shelton Benjamin (w/ Momma Benjamin) v. Val Venis
In a Royal Rumble Qualifying Match

Another competitive Qualifier. I haven’t seen this much cannon fodder since the last time they ran the King of the Ring. Momma Benjamin would make an awesome GM if they’re even still hiring. Are they still hiring? My resume is up on Monster you guys! Anyway, Val starts things off by punching Shelton in the head like he hasn’t been jobbing on Heat for the last seven years, but Momma has a plan. Using her trusty Family Size can of Beef and Broccoli soup, Momma loads up her purse, and nails Val right in the balls. Shelton rolls him up and that’s the win. Whew. After the match, Shelton disavows any knowledge of Momma’s cheating. Good thing Shelton doesn’t watch Smackdown, huh?

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Abe Orton v. Kane
In a Royal Rumble Qualifying Match

Thank God! Because I was just thinking, “You know what the Royal Rumble needs? More Kane!” But then I was like, “Could WWE possibly keep Abe Orton out of the Royal Rumble?” Then I ate some Chex Mix and forgot what it was I was thinking about, and by that point we were in the middle of the commercial break and Kane had already won. Well, hell. Now I feel kind of bad for poor Abe. I can’t even get a good ramble going before he’s already jobbing. And now that he’s knocked out, he’ll miss his favorite part of the show!

Edge finally arrives at the arena and heads in. I’m going to do that at my job tomorrow. I can’t STAND working more than a half hour a day anyway.

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Edge and Lita are in the ring and there’s a bed. Are they actually going to go ahead and have some sex on TV? You know what? Sure. Why not? This is cable right? If Matt Hardy were General Manager 2.0, this would never have happened. Or it would have, and he would have been backstage crying.

Edge: Now before I get down to bidness, I just wanted to take the…what?

Lita: Did you just say “bidness”? You are SO white.

Edge: Shut up! Anyway, I just thought that I should say that THE CHAMP IS HERE! And not only that, but also I’m proud after 14 long years of everybody saying that I was the next Sting that I’m finally the W…uh…W…WTF? Champion…no that doesn’t sound right. But anyway, all I really wanted to say was “In your face Chris Tian!” Have fun feuding with Monty Brown you worthless ass.

A Video Package of ways Edge is way better than Chris Tian airs.

Edge: Now, let’s have sex!

Lita: Uh…aren’t we going to talk first? Or at least kiss? Geez, man, where’s your sense of chivalry? If you expect me to have sex in front of all these people, you could at least have the decency to go for a little foreplay.

Edge: Baby, we gotta get this done before RAW goes off the air. We’ve got seven minutes.

Lita: What are we going to do for the other six?

Edge shoves one of Carlito’s apples into Lita’s gaping maw. After stripping himself down to his Homestar Runner undies, which are being propped up by his already throbbing member, Edge Tian turned his attention to his lady. Delicately, he tore her shirt off, revealing her soggy abs and awful tattoo. She mumbled something unintelligible as the cool, wet juices from the apple rolled down her manly jaw, which, were he conscious would have made Abe Orton soil himself. Edge quietly, calmly slipped off her boots, then after a few seconds, slipped them back on, so as not to spoil this beautiful moment with thoughts of toejam (and also, possibly thoughts of Earl). Moving quickly with his long nimble fingers, Edge removed the bra from Lita’s bountiful mounds, grinding her with his engorged spire as he exposed her small hard NIPPLES BAH GAWD, KING! WE JUST SAW NIPPLES! They rolled between the satin sheets as the man she’d come to know as the “Rated E for Everyone” Superstar began to make simulated grinding motions in her navel, as she swiveled uncomfortably trying to get him to stop poking her in her dripping spleen. Just as Edge was finally going to find his target….

Ric Flair: WOO! Having sex? That’s why you’re the champ!

Edge: Gah! Flair! What the hell are you doing in here?

Flair: I was going to take your old lady for a ride on SPACE MOUNTAIN FAT BOY! WOOO!

Edge: Get out! Get out! I’m the only one who is taking anybody for a ride on any mountains tonight! ME! Edge! Edge Mountain!

Lita: I wouldn’t really call it a mountain, hon. Hi there, little guy!

Edge: He’s NOT little. It’s just…cold in here is all.

Flair: WOO! Surely you guys can go for a little DP?

Lita: It suddenly got a LOT colder in here.

Edge: Come back, little buddy!

John Cena: Would you guys shut up? I’m trying to sleep!

Edge: CAN A GIRL GET SOME SEX? This is MY time. My time with Lita.

Cena: Whatever, mom. I’ll sleep wherever I want.

Flair: That’s why you’re the champ! WOO!

Cena: THE CHAMP IS HERE! In my crotch!

Edge: Your crotch is not the champ! My crotch is…what the…I’m the champ. Me. Edge. Nobody else is the champ.

Cena: Wow, those things, are like, rock hard, girl. You need to get something done about that.

Edge: Would you get your hands off my girlfriend’s tits?

Flair: Let’s see what I can find!

Edge: AIEEEE! Hands in new places! Nonononononono!

Flair: WOO!

Edge: THIS INTERCOURSE IS OVER!

Edge tosses Flair out of the ring onto the announce table. When he climbs back into bed, he finds that Cena has already FUed Lita out of the other side of the ring.

Cena: Yawn. I always thought she was a natural red head.

Edge: Well, you learn something new every day.

Cena: Good night, Edge.

Edge: Sigh. Good night, John. Don’t hog all the covers.

Cena: Sorry.

Edge: That’s ok. Mr. Dunn, you wanna get the lights?

Cena: Can we spoon?

Edge: No.

Chris Tian overturns the bed.

Chris Tian: How long do I have to lay under here to hear some goddamn se…Oh…hi. This is…awkward.

Next Week: What will that Crazy Edge do next? How about force Lita to deep throat a pie! Plus, Triple H has to go out to the store to buy Pickle Ice Cream. And a New GM is hired and you won’t believe who it is…ok, ok. It’s just Eric Bischoff in drag.

Hunter is backstage with a party hat on.

Vince McMahon: Congratulations, Hunter, on finally knocking up my daughter, now I don’t have to worry about Shane’s kids running around here with all the control.

Triple H: Uh…thanks, Vince. I’m just glad Show isn’t here to steal my cake. But I’m still sick as hell of these lame ass parties. What the hell am I going to do with a hundred pairs of tiny shoes?

Vince: Find a really big centipede?

Kane: Whatever you do, man, just don’t let Abe know what’s going on. And for the love of God, make sure you don’t leave your chicken parmesan cooking in your Stephanie real doll.

HHH: Why are you being nice to me?

Kane: Because I’m planning to live vicariously through your parenthood. And if you have a daughter, I’m going to stalk her and marry her.

HHH: Yeah? That’s cool, I guess. Thanks for the creepy steel cage cradle.

Ric Flair: WOO! Have I got a present for you! Congratulations on getting your old lady pregnant! That’s why you’re the champ!

HHH: Uh…Naitch, these are adult diapers.

Flair: Wet me? I already wet myself! Wet me? I already wet myself! WOO!

HHH: This is the last time I have a baby.

Victoria: Where can we put this roll of condoms we had left over from Lita’s baby shower?

Edge: What size are they?

Victoria: Extra Small?

Edge: I’ll take those.

HHH: Hey! Wait a minute…HEY!

Abe Orton: Hey, guys, somebody told me the shower was in here…wait a second…this is a baby shower!

HHH: RUN!

See you all next week!