Mick Foley is out and he’s…wet. I wonder how the hell that went down….

Vince McMahon: Mick! Get out there!

Mick Foley: But…Vince…I’m in the shower!

Vince: I don’t care. I’m not having Chris Masters jerk the curtain!

So anyway, Mick is wet, and I don’t think I want to know what wet Foley smells like. Especially not that flannel. So I’ll just count my lucky stars that I don’t live in Omaha. I almost moved to Omaha once. True story. Anyway, Foley also has two packages wrapped in shiny pink wrappers. Happy Valentines Day, you moron. I already ate your present. Like, a friggin’ month ago. Foley also has a mic, let’s hope he doesn’t drip all over it and short it out, eh?

Mick Foley: Ok, I got out of the shower for this segment, so everybody better pay attention ok? I realize now that I made a bit of a mistake last week when I had Lita deep throat my fingers, because, after all, I kind of got on Edge’s case over the whole Matt Hardy thing, and here I am getting my hand sucked by his girlfriend on TV. That can’t be good for the ol’ psyche. I thought about printing up some T-Shirts with a picture of that printed on them with the caption “It’s what’s for breakfast,” but given the fact that he JUST found that catchphrase, I thought that might be a little crass, even for the Hardcore Icon Cactus Crunch. Chomp chomp! In any event, I just thought I’d be nice and buy a present for Edge and Lita to apologize for cheapening their television relationship, so here you have it. Edge come on out here and collect your goodies!

Here’s Edge! He opens the present. Oh. A baseball bat. How…quaint.

“The Innovator of Breakfast” Edge: What are you trying to say, Mick? More people should have bought Scooter because it was about Muppets playing baseball? Are you trying to call me a Muppet? Or are you implying that the moderate success of the World Baseball Classic will lead to a revolution in the game of baseball where more players will be coming in to the MLB from underbaseballed nations like South Korea and Canada? Or are you offering some kind of odd commentary on the similarities to baseball and wrestling steroid controversies? Why give me this bat, Mick?

Foley: I was hoping you’d use it to beat some pretty back into Lita’s face.

Edge: Hahahahahahahahahahaha….

Lita: Hey! I’m plenty pretty.

Edge: Oh, man. Yeah. Lovely, hon.

Foley: Also, just like another transitional champion and bat carrier, Sting, you’re washed up. Soon we’ll have Kid Kash following you guys around while you do your laundry, and then you’ll come back as “Adam Copeland” and you’ll job to Road Warrior Animal.

Edge: That’s…not a very good angle.

Lance Cade: Shut it, Slapnuts.

Edge: Listen, I know my title run’s success was a shock to everybody, and that my little feud with you is punishment for daring to stand up to Cena and Hunter, but that doesn’t mean we have to use our segments together to get zingers in on TNA. But-

Foley: Arm wrestling in a cage!

Cade: What can I say? Bullet Bob has some stroke.

Lita: Oh, God! Is he ok?

Cade: Some stroke. Not a stroke.

Lita: Oh. Good.

Edge: In any event, I’ve got some Bacon and Grape Jelly Pop Tarts in the toaster backstage, so let’s get this over with.

Foley pulls a bat out of the other box and they fight.

Foley: Preeeeooow! Duge Duge Duge!

Edge: Wrrroooomp! Vrrrrrzzzk!

Foley: Triple Naitch never told you what happened to your father!

Edge: He told me enough! He told me you pinned him!

Foley: No! Edge, I am your father!

Edge: That’s not true! That’s…Impossible. Unless you had me when you were 8.

Foley: Your mother was only 13. We met when she was queen of a little planet called Naboo, and I was a slave working in a junk-

Chris Tian: Does that mean…you’re my dad too?

Foley: Uh…sure.

Tian: Daddy!

Edge: Back off, Chris, this hairy old man is just trying to fool us! I’m relatively certain eight year olds can’t have any children. Especially not with Natalie Portman!

For whatever reason, some clips of Mick making Al Snow jokes air. When we come back, his face is bloody from trying to chew on his barbed wire bat.

Edge: Come on, Mick, let me make you some breakfast.

Foley: I’ve got a better idea!

Foley pulls out a bat wrapped in thorns and chase Edge away.

Foley: Prophecy, Edge! Who hit you?

This Lenten Joke brought to you by the RAW Satire Council on Religion.

Tian: I’m still pretty sure that I’m Cactus Crunch. Or something.

Reverend Devon 3-D: OH MY BROTHER, PROPHECY!

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Man, they just did this match last week. I guess Carlito needed himself some more Kane. Speaking of which, Wrestlemania needs another Kane match. How about Kane v. Scotty 2 Hotty? It’s crossbrandertastic. Ok, maybe not that. What the hell is Spanky up to? Anyway, Carlito tries to come off the top, but Kane isn’t having any of that jibber jabber (again), so he goes for the chokeslam (again). But Carlito has it scouted this time, and he punches WWE RAW Referee Jack Doan and runs away. Kane wins by DQ, but he’s not going to stand for Carlito going around punching referees, so he chases after Carlito. But, in the immortal words of Admiral Ackbar before the Emperor dipped him in tartar sauce, “It’s a trap!!”

Indeed it is, because as soon Kane and a camera guy make it backstage, Kane is assaulted by Carlito, Iron Chef Wrestling Chris Masters, Lance Cade and Trevor Murdoch. Hey, I thought they broke up! Nice to see the Jarretts and Rhodeses getting along, I guess. The cavalcade of heel tag teams overwhelms poor Kane, who gets trapped in a closet. Aw, poor Kane. Come out of that closet! Improbably, Chris Masters is the one assigned to driving a forklift in front of the door. Geez. At least he didn’t crash it or anything, but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have his forklift driving license. The heels celebrate their modest victory, but it’s all for naught as Big Show chases them off!

Big Show: Don’t worry! I’m comin’ for you, little buddy!

Show eats the forklift.

Kane: I’ve been outside the door that whole time, by the way.

Show: What? How? Did you sneak in a can of YJ Stinger? And the Stacker 2 bees came to teleport you?

Kane: Magic powers.

Show: That’s handy.

Kane: I dunno. I used to be able to shoot fire like Street Fighter. All I can do anymore is teleport out of closets and this…

Lillian Garcia is set ablaze.

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Big Show v. Iron Chef Wrestling Chris Masters
Root Beer Battle

Shinichiro Ohta: Fukui-san!

Kenji Fukui: Go ahead!

Ohta: At least it isn’t pillows again this week, they’re working with root beer, tonight! And you’ll remember that the Iron Chef is undefeated in soda related battles.

Fukui: I’d certainly say the challenger is in trouble here! One look at him says he’s likely to do more eating than preparing! Hahaha! Hoooo. Phew.

Dr. Yukio Hatori: You didn’t know? Big Show has a degree from the Collins College School of Root Beer Design.

Fukui: Isn’t that one of those diploma mills?

Hatori: I’ll have you know I got my doctorate at Collins College!

Ohta: Fukui-san!

Fukui: Go ahead!

Ohta: The Iron Chef has surprisingly asked to have this battle thrown out, as the challenger keeps spitting forklift parts at him. And now the challenger just chokeslammed him into a vat of root beer. Oh well.

Fukui: So much for making the challengers credible heading into Wrestlemania, huh?

Hatori: Screw that! Wrestlemania just needed more Kane! Bickering/stupid Carlito and Masters are better anyway. Nerd.

Fukui: Speaking of which, join us next week when Iron Chef Wrestling Chris Masters takes on all comers in a Watermelon Nerds battle! Find out who will reign supreme!

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John Cena is preparing for his match with Triple H. How? Lifting weights in a dusty old gym.

John Cena: Yo, dawg, it’s like this. I figure, people aren’t cheering me because they don’t believe in me. Ok, so I’m from the “mean streets” of suburban white America, but check it, real recognizes real, right? And what’s more real than a dusty old gym? I’m like the next…Karate Kid…or Little Mac!

Doc Louis: Join the Nintendo Fun Club Today, John!

Cena’s Father: As a certified property value assessor, I can tell you that Stacy Keibler is a fine piece of real estate! What I wouldn’t give for one night with that! What? My son? That kid is jobbing so hard on Sunday.

Cena: Pull ups, sit ups…push ups. I do it all. All the ups, anyway. Then I go punch some meat. It makes me real. Realer than real. Recognize it. I really wish this place had a Bowflex Xtreme 2 though. The Bowflex Xtreme 2 is the pinnacle of performance.

Doc Louis: Dance like a fly, bite like a mosquito!

Cena’s Father: Man, that Stacy is HOT! Look, I already told you, there’s no way in hell John is going to beat Triple H, so stop asking me. I don’t care how much “heart” or whatever he has. Honestly, John was always kind of a wimp. And I hate his rapping. Word Life, my ass. He’s about as street as your grandma…provided that your grandma isn’t particularly street, of course. I wonder if I could get a job managing in TNA….

Doc Louis: The Pass Key is 007 373 5963

Cena: I got the pass key to face you, Hunter. I may suck as a wrestler, but I’ve got heart, and you can’t take that away from me! You can’t summon Captain Planet without heart! You hear me, you bastard?! I’ll fight men five times my size! And WIN! Because I am Superman! In fact, I wrote a little rap!

Cena’s Father: Aw, crap.

Hunter, I’m coming to beat you,
Like worms, I’m gonna eat you,
I’ve got my spinnin’ title,
I’m judging Country Idol,

I’m the hardest dude in WWE,
You can’t even see me!
Hear the boos in the crowd?
I don’t because women are loud!

So ladies, come to Chicago and cheer,
Come on Doc,
THE CHAMP IS HERE!

Doc Louis: You can do it, John!

Soda Popinski: Haha Haha Hahaha Haha Haha Hahaha!

The Sandman: So…when’s the ECW show again?

This year in the Hall of Fame? Atlas. About time that guy got some recognition. You think carrying Masters is hard, try carrying the friggin’ world. Ayn Rand is doing his induction speech, via a psychic reading from The Undertaker.

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I read an interview one time where Shawn said he was sick of this match. Neener Neener. Shawn doesn’t even get to take his mirror chaps off before Triple H attacks him. If only he could’ve pranced, he could’ve avoided Hunter’s punches. Damn you Shane McMahon! Damn you for stealing the power of prance! Vince McMahon wanders out to watch the proceedings. While Shawn is distracted arguing with McMahon, Triple H and WWE RAW Referee Mike Chioda talk about their NCAA brackets. I don’t know about you all, but I had George Mason going all the way.

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If you were watching WWE Unlimited, you could’ve caught 4 minutes of sleeper. It was awesome. Triple H goes for the Pedigree, way too close to the ropes. McMahon goes up onto the apron to yell at Hunter for telegraphing the slingshot, then for falling over for no reason, then he gets hit when Michaels slingshots HHH into him. Sigh. Hunter has had just about the right amount of this all, I think, so he grabs the sledgehammer and he and Vince discuss ways to hit Shawn with it. Hint: Try not putting your hand over the top of the hammer! While all this is going on, John Cena has snuck into the ring. He punches Hunter and McMahon, and then goes for some elbows. Shocked by his demonstration of new wrestling maneuvers, Vince and Hunter bail. The winner, I guess…Orton when Hunter fell over? Good momentum builder for Randy going into Sunday’s main event.

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It’s time for Money in the Bank hype, I guess, because the briefcase, the ladder, and the Nature Boy are all in the ring. Props are fun.

Ric Flair: WOO! Kids, let the Nature Boy level with you. I’m in court a lot, and the one thing judges are always asking me is “Ric…RIC! WOO! By God Flair! Why don’t you have a briefcase?! This is WOO This is a court of the LAW!” And I answer, “Your Honor, I’m gonna take your old lady for a RIDE ON SPACE MOUNTAIN, FAT BOY! WOOO!” I’m stylin’ and profilin’, sixteen WOO! SIXTEEN Girls are calling out, “That’s why you’re the champ!” WOO! Because, let me tell you something, Monkey in the Bank? That’s mine right there, because let me tell you something, I’ve got legal briefs man, briefs…who wants to see my briefs? I’m strippin’ down! You know why I’m strippin’ down? WOO! Because I’m the Naaaaaaaaaaaitcha Boy!

There ain’t no stoppin’ Shelton Benjamin from interrupting this promo…NAH! He’s looking stylish. Best he’s looked in years. Now, just…please don’t talk. Please don…dammit.

Shelton Benjamin: What in the heck are you doing out here, Ric…McOldguyerton? Huh? You think you’re so cool that you can come out here. Well…I came out here too. What do you have to say about that? I’ve got three good reasons why you won’t win this Sunday. First, because you’re old. Two, because I…I’m planning to win, and that would mean that you couldn’t also win. There are no co-winners. That I know of. There’s no precedent for that. And C, because…uh…I…don’t…think you’re going to…win. Yeah. What do you have to say about that?

Here’s RVD for the promo save…Crap.

Rob Van Dam: Duuuuude, did you guys hear that Wrestlemania is this weekend? We all better find matches or we’ll be on Internet Heat like I was two years ago!

Shelton: Rob, we’re all wrestling each other. In the Money in the Bank match.

RVD: Yeah! All right!!

Rob dropkicks Shelton and hits the ladder assisted Rolling Thunder, but then Flair kicks him in the nuts. Then Flair goes up the ladder and takes the briefcase. Ric Flair has won Money in the Bank!

I just hope he doesn’t pawn it.

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I wonder what you can get for that.

This Week’s Embarrassing Peter Gabriel Moment (Sponsored by Wrestlemania 22, Live on Sunday):

Triple H: Man! Peter Gabriel! I love you, man! “Sledgehammer” That’s an awesome song! I was wondering…I need some new theme music, and I thought it’d be cool if…say Motorhead did a cover of it for me. If that’s cool with you.

Phil Collins: Ah, you’ve got it all wrong, man. I’m Phil Collins. Don’t worry about it, though. Happens all the time.

HHH: So you’re not Peter Gabriel?

Collins: Nope.

HHH: So I can’t buy the rights to use “Sledgehammer” from you?

Collins: Not as such, no.

HHH: Any idea when you will be Peter Gabriel?

Collins: …

HHH: ….

Collins: Wednesday.

HHH: Cool. See you then.

Eugene’s got Some Kind of Denver Bronco Float memorial tights on tonight. Alas, poor Rosey, I knew thee well. The Spirit Squad does some flippity floppity crap, and then some trampoline assisted offense. That stuff might fly in OVW where you’re fighting Danny Doring every week, but this is Val Venis here, kids. Bring your A Game or stay at home. Viscera is just too fat to comprehend what the hell is going on here. Kenny breaks Val’s arm, and then they all pile on him for the pin. Good enough, I guess, but they’re no Pete Gas.

Ready? Ok!
John Cena is gonna lose,
This we know,
In Mike Tyson’s Punchout,
He can’t beat Glass Joe,

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Triple H Training video:

Mick Foley: Omigosh, Cena is so jobbing. Who does he think he is? Benoit?

Triple H: Yeah, I’ve got a pretty strict training regiment. I’m…eating a lot of pound cake. I play with Nibblins sometimes. I got her this little mouse on a string thing. Yeah. Uh…sometimes I go to Nash’s house and we play Madden. That’s like exercise, right?

Brazilian Bodybuilder: I do all Hunter’s workouts for him. I train a lot. Become big and strong like Meltzer.

HHH: That’s Raul. He’s cool, I guess. Sometimes I offer him pound cake, but he just puts that on top of the weights and presses it. Haven’t these guys heard of steroids? Hahaha. Oops. I shouldn’t have said that. You guys can edit that out right?

Raul: Hunter will beat John Cena. He has the will of the champion. Also the vagina of the booker.

Booker T: If I can’t beat Hunter after he made fun of me for being black, wigger ain’t got a chance, man.

HHH: Seriously, though. Edit that out. Anybody want some pound cake?

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In the celebrity hall of fame this year? Mongo’s Dog.

Here’s Alexis Laree in a room full of Trish Stratus pictures. Just in case you haven’t gotten the word that she’s obsessed with Trish Stratus yet. To be fair though, they DID take all the eyes out of all the pictures. Somewhere, somebody has a wall of just Trish’s eyes.

Alexis Laree: Trish Stratus, When, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for a Diva to advance from that subordination in which they have hitherto remained, and to assume among the powers of the WWE Women‘s championship, the equal and independent station to which the laws of nature and of nature's god entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the change. In other words, I hate you, you stupid bitch. I’d still have sex with you though. That was pretty good right? Just like Raven!

Elsewhere….

Trish Stratus: There, there, little eye wall. I’m not going to lose the title to no stupid porno star.

Torrie Wilson: Naked pictures are not porno.

Trish: Whatever helps you sleep at night, dear. Nice nipples by the way.

Torrie: Haha! Thanks!

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Along with WWE RAW Referee Mickey Jay we have the entire women’s division here. Am I right? Sigh. This column needs a laugh track sometimes. At least Boobsie isn’t riding around on unsold magazines being carried by Dicks this week. Torrie and Boobsie roll around for a while while Trish and Victoria awkwardly try to get the women’s division rolling again. Sigh. It’s not happening anytime soon girls. Sorry. Trish kicks Victoria in the head and hits the Stratusfaction for the win. What, isn’t Alexis going to attack her? Couldn’t Mickey Jay lay her out or something?

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Both Shawn and Hunter are handcuffed to the ropes on the outside. If Vince didn’t stick a key in Hunter’s tights, I’ll be really disappointed. Test of strength to start, and the crowd is so loud for Cena that Vince’s eardrum explodes. Good for John. I was beginning to think people didn’t like him! After realizing that he actually has to be carried to a good match, Vince just ends up kicking Cena in the balls. Then Vince steals the key back and gives it to Hunter. Aw, man. Come on. That’s not very sneaky. Hunter hits Cena with his fist, which is holding a Sledgehammer, bloodying Cena, but also hurting his knuckles. Yeouch. Then Vince goes outside and hits the still tied up Shawn with a chair. What, he couldn’t have picked the lock with his hairpin? Afterwards, Vince and Hunter pose in the ring while Hunter strokes Cena’s face lovingly with the sledgehammer. That’s our Wrestlemania preview? Wonderful.

Sunday Sunday Sunday: Triple H defeats John Cena clean via the Pedigree, and then holds the show up for a half hour because he won’t pose with the Spinnin’ World Title. Mark Henry finds the only way to beat the Undertaker at Wrestlemania is by being so sloppy you break his knees (so close Giant Gonzales!)! And by effort and pure determination, Tyson Tomko somehow wins Money in the Bank.

Wrestlemania Preview Ensuring that this will be the longest Satire EVER!

EVER!

Torrie Wilson v. Boobsie McTitsalot: This is a Pillowfight, which means that I have to give the edge to the one with the largest pillows. That said, the rash of recent inexplicable WWE hirings has led me to only one conclusion: Boobsie is Billy Kidman in disguise. They make out to end the match.

WWE Chief Physician Dr. The Boogeyman v. Booker T and Paisley: This feud of course is over the fact that Dr. The Boogeyman exposed Booker T as a fraud, proving to Smackdown GM Theodore Long that Booker T was never injured at all. Dr. The Boogeyman is comin’ to get him, but Paisley is a former Nitro Girl, so I think that gives her team the edge. Winner: Paisley and Booker T by countout.

Alexis Laree v. Trish Stratus: Is Raven out of rehab yet? If he is, Trish will probably win. If he’s not, Alexis will dedicate this match to his recovery, and win it by spitting blood all over Trish’s cleavage.

Iron Chef Wrestling Chris Masters and Carlito Caribbean Cool v. Kane and The Big Show: This match is for the tag team titles? Seriously? My heart says to go with my man Kane, but my head says to go with the Big Show. Truly this will be an epic struggle.

John Bradshaw Leyfield v. Chris Benoit: Benoit has the heart and determination of a champion, while JBL has a learning disability and a dream. Clearly Bradshaw has the height and weight advantage, but Benoit has a stubbly beard, and you can’t get any more manly than that. Winner: Dr. The Boogeyman who will be added later to make this a Triple Threat.

“Cactus Crunch” Mick Foley v. “The Innovator of Breakfast” Edge (w/Lita): In what is sure to live up to the true definition of “slobber knocker” these two will fight it out with all the marbles on the line! This one is for the big prize, the cheese the…wait what are they feuding over again? Winner: Edge?

Mark Henry v. The Undertaker: The real question here isn’t “Will Undertaker go 14-0?” Of course he will. The real question is, “Can anybody stop Mark Henry from eating the casket?” Undertaker will be overwhelmed by Stank early on, but it’s smooth sailing from there. Winner: Undertaker.

Fit Finlay, Black Lesnar and Matt Hardy v. Shelton Benjamin, Ric Flair and Rob Van Dam: This is the classic Monkey in the Bank ladder match, and this year it features three stars from every show! Except Internet Velocity! Sorry, Funaki! Winner: Edge again.

Shawn Michaels v. Vince McMahon: Shawn Michaels says this is his last match until next Monday’s RAW, so clearly that puts him at a serious disadvantage! I have an “insider” source that tells me that Bret Hart can’t wait to return to action! Winner: Vince McMahon after Bret Hart runs…ok…walks in, and slowly punches Shawn in the shoulder, which Shawn hilariously oversells.

Rey Misterio v. Randy Orton v. Kurt Angle: Never has a match been more personal than this! Rey is mad at Randy for claiming that he fathered his son Dominic and at Angle for stealing the Royal Rumble main event from him by threatening to collapse the ring! Randy is mad at Rey for not letting him see his son, and at Angle for the audacity of still thinking anybody cares about the Olympics. And Angle is mad at everybody because he could have sworn he asked Vince to let him fight Ray Lewis this year. Winner: Rey Misterio becomes the first midget to win the WWE World Heavyweight Title. Just kidding. It’s gonna be Orton.

Triple H v. John Cena: Clearly the edge goes to Triple H, who is smarter, prettier, has more fans and a better moveset. All John Cena has going for him is heart, and just ask that kid from Captain Planet how that worked out. Oooh, you can mind meld with a monkey, but can you light a bitch on fire? I thought not. Dumbass. The Winner: Stephanie’s Baby Daddy (John Cena).

Enjoy Mania, kids! Until next we meet!

Now for the thrilling conclusion of….

The WWE Mystery Team
In
The Case of the Meth Lab Mix Up

The Undertaker chases Triple H and Stephanie through a series of doors, then Triple H and Stephanie chase Undertaker, then they’re both running away from a giant ant. Then all three of them are paddling a boat.

Hunter: Paddle harder, Taker! Dammit, you’re lazy.

Stephanie: Wait! Why are we in a boat with the Undertaker? In the middle of a hallway?

Hunter: Crap! Stephanie, you should know better than to break kayfabe in front of the Undertaker!

Undertaker: Grrraaaaah!

Stephanie: RUN!

They run downstairs into the kitchen….

Hunter: Spring the trap! Spring the trap!!

Ricy: Spring the trap?! I already sprung the trap! Spring the trap?! I already sprung the trap!

A net falls covering Hunter, Flair, Stephanie and Rob.

Ricy: We got ‘em!

Rob: Yeah! All right!!

Hunter: You were supposed to catch him not us, you nitwits.

Stephanie: Oh no! Here he comes!

Undertaker: Graaaaaah!

Rob: Psst…Ric! See if you can’t grab that plate of sausages!

Trish runs into the room….

Trish: Guys, do you remember if I even…brought glasses? I don’t want to spend all this time looking for them if I didn’t even bring any.

Hunter: Go for help, Trish!

Trish: Like hell I will. You guys are getting just what you des-

Undertaker grabs Trish by the throat.

Trish: Jinkies.

Suddenly, a big boot flies in out of no where! Legdrop to the Undertaker!

Trish, Hunter and Stephanie: It’s Hulk Hogan!

Rob: Santa Claus!

Ric: WHO! I’m gonna chew my way out of this net!

Hulk Hogan: Well, you know something, brothers, this cartoon will never hold a candle to Hulk Hogan’s Rock ’n’ Wrestling! So, I’m sorry, little dudes, but I’m gonna have to pull the plug!

Trish: Thank God.

Hogan: So just remember kids, eat your prayers, say your vitamins, and hail Sabin, little dudes! Whatchu gonna do, when Hulk Hogan cancels you?!

Hogan hops into his spaceship and flies away.

Hunter: I was disturbed by the lack of Mr. T.

Ricy: I did it! I ate a hole in the net! WOO! That’s why I’m the champ!

Stephanie: Let’s unmask him and find out who he is!

Hunter: Uh…he’s the Undertaker. There’s nothing weird about that.

Trish: No! Stephanie…is right? Why does she get to have the big revelation?

Stephanie: Who do you think wrote this episode? Look! Under the “Sarah Taker” tattoo! It’s a mask!

They pull the mask off….

Stephanie, Hunter and Trish: Old Man McMahon!

Rob: Plate of Sausages!

Ricy: Style and profile, and I’m still eating the net! WOO!

Old Man McMahon: And I would’ve gotten away with it too, had it not been for you meddling kids!

Trish: Gotten away with what?! You lured us into your creepy old meth house. You had a dead body downstairs. If you wanted to get away with something, you shouldn’t have sent us in here.

Stephanie: Shut up, you stupid bitch. This storyline made complete sense.

Hunter: Yeah! Get off Stephanie’s ass. That’s my job!

Old Man McMahon: Can…Can I go then?

Rob: Hey, Ricy…want some doobie snacks?

Ricy: Doobie doobie WOOOO!

Bryan Alvarez: Well, Dave, what did you think?

Dave Meltzer: That was as terrible as the build to this year’s Wrestlemania! No plot, the characters, with the exception of Trish were completely unbelievable, and even the resolution didn’t make any sense. Why did Vince lure them into the house? Why did he dress up like the Undertaker? Where did Hogan get a space ship?

Alvarez: Not you! Dave!

“Dave” Batista “Davidson”: My favorite SHOW! I give it 8 stars out of SEVEN! A masterpiece and a triumph of CINEMATOGRAPHY!

Meltzer: Yeah, well, I think it was miscast too.

John Bradshaw Leyfield: Me too! I should have been Scooby. I’m a wrestling dog!

Batista: I am INJURED! I wanted to wear the SCARF!