Edge and Lita Have Sex, Coming to a Theatre Near You (Rated PG-13 for brief nudity).

Speaking of, here are Edge and Lita, and they’ve got all their clothes on. What the hell?

Lita: Hwark! Sorry about that, but I was just having sex with 

Edge: Real men don’t shave, Lita, my little plunder bunny.

Lita: Hwark! Can a girl get some water?

Edge: HA! I knew it! Hahahaha! Yes! Score! Monkey in the bank! I knew that catchphrase would get over one way or another!

Lita: Yes, but it works for me because I’m actually a girl! Wait…did you just say “monkey in the….”

Edge: What I may or may not have said just now isn’t important. What is important is that last week I made an 82 year old man look like a friggin’ luchadore, and this Sunday at the Royal Rumble, I’m going to carry John Cena’s ass to something halfway watchable, and the company will have to leave the belt on me until Mania.

Lita: So you can job it to Triple H.

Edge: What did you just say?

Lita: Hwark!

Oh no! Here comes John Cena for the steal! I hope he doesn’t try to run off a bunch of lame “ho” jokes.

John Cena: I know what you’re thinking, and yes, I am here to run off a bunch of lame “ho” jokes. Let’s get started, shall we?

Yo, yo, yo, yo, YO!
Lita is a ho!
This I know,
And Edge is her beau!

I got me some wicked flow,
Bustin’ rhymes like D’Lo,
Takin’ over the show,
Goin’ fast not slow.

I just scored a bunch of blow,
Lita makes my thingy grow,
I’m not like Edge, though,
I keep it down below.

Mom taught me how to sew,
I once broke my toe,
Like Keanu I was sayin’ “Woah!”
Glow Worms made to glow!

Making a sandwich with some dough,
I got a car I need to tow,
Got pooped on by a crow,
Sergeant Slaughter was a G.I. Joe!

Work in your garden with a hoe,
Watch your lettuce and cabbage grow!
I’m not the champ no mo,
This causes me no end of woe!

It’s going to be all good though,
Over the top rope men will throw,
Wait, am I in that match…no.
At the Rumble, Edge is my foe!

He's gonna be lamer than "Desperado"
Throw him in for the bastinado,
Kissin’ under the mistletoe,
Before joinin’ the AFLCIO

Jump on you like Mario,
The Wigger Impressario,
Writtin' harder than Henry David Thoreau,
You can’t see my UFO!

I’m going to take you to my château,
We’ll watch tapes of Samoa Joe!
Maybe some kind of Puppet Show!
THE CHAMP IS HERE!

Edge: That last one didn’t even rhyme.

Lita: I liked D’Lo’s “Everything Rhymes with Street” better.

D’Lo Brown: Victory is sweet! Here is your receipt!

Edge: Bring it on! Whatchu gonna do about it?

D’Lo Brown: Will somebody please hire me? I’m available for kid’s parties! No? Come on, man! Damn…I’m gonna go call Mizzark. Maybe I can be his manager.

Khosrow Daivari: Don’t bet on it, fatty.

D’Lo: What did you just call me?

Daivari: Layleahleyleahooooooh!

Cena: Mad props go out to my dawg, Notorious JTL who’s up in the joint.

Lita: Hwark. Cough Cough! Hey I got it!

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This match exists because…err…NEEDS MORE KANE! Yeah, that’s right. Sometimes it’s ok just to have Kane for Kane’s sake. Carlito is not impressed. What the hell do you want, man? The X-Division doesn’t need a reason to exist it just…is. You’ve got better hair than any of those guys anyway. Ok…Fine. Here’s your motivation. You’re both in the Royal Rumble. And…Action! Carlito beans Kane over the head with a chair for the DQ. Well…I tried. Kane sits up, shakes his head for allowing himself to be roped into this senseless Kane abuse, and walks backstage in shame.

Backstage, Edge and Lita are standing outside a door.

Edge: Come on, what’s another blowjob?

Lita: Look, Edgeranderson, I don’t mind being your little slutty messenger girl, but really this is over doing it.

Edge: Seriously, babe, it’s gonna be a breeze, you just walk up to that door, and….

Lita: You want me to give head to a door? Are you nuts?!

Edge: Well…it’s Triple H’s Door….

Lita: Oh, God! Not that thing again! I thought it got released and went to go book a Federation in Italy.

Edge: Come on. Just do it.

Lita: Fine. Here goes nothing.

The door flies open and whacks Lita in the face. She crumples to the floor, unconscious.

Triple H: Woah. Did I do that?

Edge sticks his hands in his pockets and walks away.

(ads)

Backstage….

Lita: Oh, Edgios, Edgios, wherefore art thou Edgios?

Big Show: I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, I’m not Edge. I’m Big Show. Now I’ve got a match tonight, so if you’ll just get off my lap….

Lita: Methinks you doth protest too much!

Show: I’m about to protest with my fist down your face if you don’t get off of my dingly area right this second.

Lita: Oh, my! Fisting!

Show: That’s not what I meant. Sigh….

Edge: Lita! There you are! What are you doing in here?

Show: Grinding my gears. And I don’t like it one bit.

Edge: Hey, Show. If I get Lita to stop, will you be my partner tonight?

Show: Normally, I’d love to. As you can see by the fact that I’m still, I guess, one half of the tag team champions, I love tag team wrestling. Unfortunately, I’m already booked for a match tonight.

Lita: And you’re going to win, aren’t you my little Edgecaster?

Show: Go away!

Edge: Come on, Lita. Let’s get out of here.

Show: Goddammit. First I have to run around teaming with that weirdo Kane, then I randomly protect Ric Flair, then I have a cannon ball grafted to my hand, now I’m gonna catch some kind of crazy STD. This has not been a good few months.

Kane: Tell me about it, man. I think I lost my half of the tag team titles.

Show: How the hell did you do that?!

Kane: I dunno, man. I was at this arcade, and I set it down to reserve my spot at DDR, and I got up there and I was totally trancing out, and this Asian kid next to me was just on fire and it was all like….

Show: Wait a minute, how long have you been here?

Kane: Just…long enough….

Show: Ew! Gross, dude!!

Kane: Hey! It’s my ex-wife.

Elsewhere, a camera is fixated on Trish’s cleavage….

Trish Stratus: Alexis, please take the camera off of my cleavage.

Alexis Laree: I’m filming this as the preamble to a reality show about three quasilesbians who travel the globe together in search of love and themselves.

Trish: All right fine, but does the first episode have to be about my cleavage?

Alexis: What do you want it to be about? Your ass?

Trish: Never mind. I have a match with Ashley next.

Alexis: Do you love her more than me?

Trish: She isn’t all the time trying to grope me, so yeah.

Alexis: Waaaah!

Tough Enough Jessie: And me?!

Trish Stratus: I don’t even know who the hell you are.

T.E. Jessie: WAAAAH!

Then they all make out.

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Coach has a mic, and he’s rocking the Ben Rothlisberger jersey like a total manslut. Anyway, what the hell hath Coach to say?

Jonathan Coachman: It is my intention to take up the Drew Carey Memorial “Oh Crap We Don’t Have Enough Over Guys to Fill Out the Rumble Again This Year” spot in this year’s Royal Rumble. If you remember, last year I went about ninety minutes before I was eliminated by a pile of sludge. This year, I’m wearing sludge repellent boots. Look out…uh…Simon Dean!

Jerry “The King” Lawler: Hold on a minute there! Don’t you think this is as good a chance as any to have an extraneous time killing segment between the two of us which will actually have some basis for realistically existing?

Coach: Hell no.

King: Well, too bad, because you have to have a match first to qualify for the Rumble.

Coach: Nuh-uh! What about Masters? Or Triple H?

King: Just…shut it up. Ok? Shut it the hell up.

Coach: Fine. But I’m not going to like it.

King: Nobody is. Nobody is.

This of course, is the 950^{th iteration of this feud. At this point Chloe is the only one who hasn’t gotten into the ring, which sucks because I’ve got her on my Fantasy Team. Do your finisher dammit! That’s like 3 points! Ah who am I kidding, I’ll forget to update my damn team in about a week. Anyway, the story of the match is Ashley being a better wrestler than anybody in the match despite sucking almost as much as Boobsie and her boobs based offense. Ashley wins by rolling up Victoria. After the match, Alexis runs out and nails Ashley with her camera. Oh! Heel turn! Or maybe she just doesn’t like Maxim.}

Backstage, Shelton and his Momma are standing around.

Shelton Benjamin: Ok. Finally an opponent you can’t possibly have anything sexual to say about. Aging playboy Shawn Michaels. I probably can’t NOT have a good match against this guy. This is gonna be great!

Momma Benjamin: MmmHmm…Have you seen my copies of Playgirl? I want this guy to sign it for me.

Shelton: Momma! He’s down with the G-O-D, now. He’s not going to be signing any naked pics anytime soon.

Shawn Michaels: I’d be more than happy to sign them. Oh, man! Look at my crotch!

Momma: I know, child!

Shelton: What would Jesus say?!

Jesus: I walked around in a loincloth, bro. It’s all good. Oh Me! I can totally see your balls!

(ads)

At Ringside today: The inventor of Teddy Grahams, Dr. Billy Grahams (PhD Thuganomics).

Before the match can even get started, Vince McMahon runs out and tells everybody that if Shawn loses this match, he can’t enter the Royal Rumble. That’s fair, I think. I mean, he’s been in just about enough of these things I think. Oh, and he can no longer prance to the ring. Oh! That’s just low! What’s next, McMahon? Take away his mirror pants? Why don’t you just fire him? Oh…wait…you tried that last week, and he messed it up. Well…I guess Shawn had it coming, really. Oh who am I kidding, I’d miss the prancing too much! Go Shawn!

(ads)

When we come back, there ain’t no stoppin’ Shelton…NAH! He hits the Stinger Splash, and then everybody kind of looks at each other sheepishly. But then they all laugh because nobody watches TNA. Shawn goes to the outside where he signs Shelton’s Momma’s muumuu. She’s thrilled. Back in the ring, there ain’t no stoppin’ Shelton…from having a conversation with WWE RAW Referee M-M-M-Mike Chioda!! Funny, that doesn’t seem to have the same kind of Impact. OMG I said Impact, everybody drink!

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Lord knows there could be a RAW Satire drinking game. Shelton goes for a top rope overhead suplex, but ends up falling off the bottom rope and just kind of pulling Michaels off. Man, I thought we’d gotten rid of all of those blown spots, Shelton! For shame! Momma has officially lost her voice, making her about a billion times less entertaining. I guess she’s just not used to screaming all day. I hope she’s at the Rumble though. Hell, I hope she’s in the Rumble. Forget Lawler or Coach! Needs more Momma! Shawn comes back and wins it with the super kick. He prances around the arena while Shelton ponders what good this storyline is doing him now.

Edge and Lita are backstage again….

Edge: Goddamn! I’ve gotta get a partner. Who thought it would be this hard? What ever happened to that Chris Tian guy anyway. You wanna be my partner Lita?

Lita: We’re sorry, but the number you have dialed is not available.

Edge: Wonderful. Hey! Hunter! You wanna be my partner?

Triple H: I’m sorry, I don’t associate myself with jobbers.

Edge: I’m not a jobber! I’m the WWE Champion!

Lita: WWEEEEEEE Champion! Weeeeeeeee!

HHH: Pfft. Whatever, dude. See your jobbery ass at Mania.

Randy Orton: For soothe, Edgmonton! I’d be most harpy to be your taggery teamed partner! It’s my new gimmick to help those in needles!

Lita: You! Are you not Ranky Morgan of the Friendly Night Slapdown?

Orton: Once and again!

Lita: I havered a maggoty gopher for seventeen and one third fortnights!

Orton: It is your lucky year! Truly one as concussioneered as you should get the breast of treatments! Just make sure that no Takersters try to kill your goodened sprites!

Lita: Aye! Faith and menorah!

Orton: So what say you, little Edgar? Will you takest me as your loftily webbed partner?

Edge: No!

(ads)

Backstage, Vince is with Shawn Michaels. Uh-oh.

Vince McMahon: Quite frankly, the thing about it, Shawn is that I’m not sure your heart is really in this anymore. You won’t let us turn you heel anymore, you won’t go after any titles, all you want to do is prance around and read the bible, and quite frankly, we’ve got enough guys like that with Reverend D-Von.

Shawn Michaels: You fired him.

Vince: Right. Listen, the important thing here is that we get you remotivated in time for Wrestlemania this year. That’s why you’re feuding with me!

Shawn: It’s not helping any.

Vince: And also why we’re bringing back one of the all time great Superstars for your Mania opponent. Somebody who is ultra charismatic. Somebody who is sure to draw a huge buyrate. A former champion! A movie star! Somebody who, if memory serves me right, you’ve never wrestled.

Shawn: Really? You mean….

Vince: Yeah! That’s right!

David Arquette: Yeah! What’s up now, bitch? You can’t see me! Hahahaha! I’m gonna take you down HCK! Yeah! Courtney is gonna be so proud of me!

Shawn: Oh, this day keeps getting worse and worse.

Vince: I’m going to let the two of get acquainted. Have fun on…Heartbreak Mountain, shall we say? If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to guarendamntee that I lock myself in a room and don’t interview any new GM candidates.

Arquette: Are you ready? Fear the spear, buddy! You’re next! Yeah! Ready to Rumble 2: Ready to Royal Rumble is gonna break the box office records, baby! Woo!

Shawn Michaels: Why couldn’t you give your wife that Coke, man?

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Jerry “The King” Lawler v. Jonathan Coachman
In a Royal Rumble Qualifying Match

This is what I’m talking about. Hot announcer on announcer action. You won’t see this from Don West and Mike Tenay. Thankfully. Lawler pulls his strap down, playfully exposing his nipple to the stunned Coach. Just as it seems that King is going to be able to build off his big PPV win last month against Suga Shane Helms, a bunch of guys in dresses swarm the ring and start yelling at Lawler. This is just the kind of distraction Coach needs to roll him up for the win. Geez, why didn’t ol’ Hurricane think of that? As a word of warning, though to all you prospective wresters: This is what happens if you go to OVW.

Spirit Squad Leader Skip: Who hear loves Coach?

Spirit Squad Member Chip: I love Coach! I! Lovecoach! Yay!

Skip: Ready? Ok!

Coachman is the best!

Coachman is the best!

Coach is goin’ to Mania!

Because Coachman is the best!

YES!

Spirit Squad Member Zip: I knew I should have gone to Deep South.

Spirit Squad Member The Boogeyman: I’m da BOOGEYMAN! And I’m comin’ to…CHEER YA!

Maybe they can split off with Matt Striker to be on WWE High together.

(ads)

Rob Conway v. Suga Shane Helms v. Lance Cade v. The Big Show
Battle Royal for Either the Honorary “Heat” Spot in the Rumble, or Just for Fun

Show’s in it for the giggles. Man, this is the jobberiest set of jobbers that ever jobbered. Except Cade should do well, because he’s King of the Mountain, right? What is it with me and TNA today? I must be having an off week. Oh! Now that the Spirit Squad is on RAW, maybe Shane can hook up with them and they can be his new Nitro Girls. That would be fantastic. I’ve got pretty much nothing to say about Conway. Sorry. It doesn’t matter anyway, because Big Show eliminated everybody shortly after I started typing. Good for him. Now, for a word from Triple H.

Triple H: You think you’re pretty cool, huh Show? Eliminating a bunch of jobbers in a battle royal? Well, I’ll tell you what’s cool. Promo time for me! Yeah. I know what’s up. I am THE GAME! I am That Damn Good! I’m the King of Queens, and the Lord of the Dance! I’m not going to team with that jobber Edge, and I’m sure as hell not going to feud with your fat ass anymore. Because come WrestleMania, I’ve got a date with the WWE Title, and I’m springing for the steak.

Backstage….

Edge: This sucks. I can’t go out there alone, and everybody worth being partners with has already had a match or turned me down. Man…I wonder what Trevor Murdoch is doing.

Abe Orton: What about me? We’re buddies, right? I’ll help you for the love of Lita’s man jaw.

Edge: Dude…no. Just…no. I can’t stand you.

Orton: Look, I try to help you. I try to hook you up with my cousin Randy. All you do is bitch, bitch, bitch. Moan moan moan. I think you set your standards too high, bro.

Edge: That’s obviously not true. Look at my girlfriend!

Lita: Hey!

???: Well, what about me? The mysterious cloaked man?

Edge: Masters? Is that you?

???: No! Yes! I’m trying to conceal my identity before the commercial break!

Edge: Whatever, nerd. Just get down to the ring.

(ads)

Edge and Iron Chef Wrestling Chris Masters (w/ Lita) v. John Cena and Ric Flair

Oh man, Cena countered the Iron Chef with an old man! What cunning! When he said that his partner was from North Carolina, I at least thought he might be able to pull off Jeff Hardy. I have a feeling Cena’s search didn’t go well….

John Cena: Man, I can’t even find a partner. This is pathetic.

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

Cena: Didn’t you die last week?

Flair: No, I just took your old lady for a ride on SPACE MOUNTAIN, FAT BOY! WOO!

Cena: I give up. Do you want to be my partner?

Flair begs off. Meanwhile, back in “real time,” Flair is begging off. Masters tries to give him a recipe for Chocolate Chunk Cookies, but Flair punches him in the balls. That’s not particularly nice. Edge and Cena tag in and the match comes completely unhinged, as both guys try desperately to lose so they don’t end up falling victim to the “Last person to win loses” PPV clause. Then, Edge, the brilliant mastermind, gets an idea. He tags in Masters, who immediately taps out to a John Cena headlock. Cena wins. While Cena bitches about how Flair should have submitted when he had the chance, Edge celebrates his ensuing PPV victory by having hot bit torrent sex with Lita. 5 seeders. Yes!

Sunday, Sunday, Sundae: Tyson Tomko wins the Royal Rumble! Tyson Tomko is going to Wrestlemania! Rob Van Dam returns, but forgets to actually, you know, enter the Rumble match. And John Cena overcomes all odds to drop Edge straight back inot the midcard! THE CHAMP IS HERE!

I hope you’ve all got your Rumble games set up!