Man, after all that Wrestlemania, I’m hungry for some pie. Not a pizza pie, mind you. No, I need some APPLE DOUGH! Ah, good, John Cena has heard my cry. Man, is this crowd fickle or what? Did you all really want Triple H to win? No. Really?  

Eugene: The Ultimate Warrior, Kane, Undertaker, Chris Benoit, and “Dave” Batista “Davidson.” Overall, Triple H is 5-6 at Wrestlemania.

Cena: Oh. Yeah? Huh. Well, still. I was hanging out with my homie, Pete R to tha G-B. Real, and he says I was “Big Time.” So you’ve got to cheer me!

Here’s Triple H to provide the counterpoint!

Triple H: Dude! Shut up! People aren’t going to cheer for you because Peter Gabriel likes you or because you beat me. Hell, that revolution is done, my friend. After, Benoit got his shot in, nobody gave a crap any more. The reason why they hate you is…well, look at ya, kid! You’re dressed like a twelve year old’s Myspace profile picture, you talk like some guy who failed English Lit because the teacher didn’t “get” the subtext of his emoetry, and you’re carrying around a friggin’ Spinning World Title. I was a lot of things to a lot of people, but at least I didn’t go so far as to defile the WWE Title by adding a little honky horn to it or something. At least Austin added something cool. Hell, I was ducking and weaving all throughout our match last night, because I was afraid you were going to hit me with a bunch of animated gifs or something. I almost lost my crown!

Cena: Hold up, H-Unit, what you’re saying is that real isn’t recognizing real anymore?

HHH: See? What the hell is that? H-Unit? Do you really think people actually talk that way? Aw, screw this crap, I’m booking myself to go over you right no-

Here’s Edge and Lita, who is still showing some adverse effects of trying to go down on some barbed wire last night. Maybe they’ve brought me some apple dough…

“The Innovator of Breakfast” Edge: Hold on there one second, Mr. Namby Pamby. If anybody is getting a title run around here, it’s me! I mean, forget the fact that I beat Mick Foley last night, everybody can do that. I’m talking ratings here. If I was still champion, Saturday Night’s Main Event would have drawn at least better than a rerun of Malcom in the Middle.

HHH: If it isn’t the “Innovator of Breakfast.” Look, dude, I’ve crapped better Cheerios than whatever the hell you’re cooking up, so why don’t you just get out of here before you get dropped even further back down the card?

Edge: What the both of you need is a gimmick overhaul. This is just ridiculous! Look at me! I became the “Innovator of Breakfast” and my stock has never been higher. Jesus? A rapper? You guys need a makeover and fast! It’s tougher than it looks, but I have great faith in you.

HHH: I don’t see why in the hell I should take advice from a guy whose career highlight is eating out man jaw over there.

Edge: I’m supposed to be cowering in fear of the powers of the mighty Terra Ryzing? Not to mention the fact that you were up to your man sack in Chyna once, which is enough to make even ME sick.

HHH: At least Chyna had the presence of mind to go all out with it when she decided to be a dude, I’d like to know what Titsy here’s excuse is.

Lita: I really don’t th-

Edge: Oh forget it, babe. I don’t know that anybody who’s spent the last five years having sweet nothings screeched into his ear is going to be able to understand what a real woman has to say.

HHH: Oh, thank God. Please do NOT let Lita talk during this segment.

Cena: Well, I hate to break up Skeletor and He-Man here, but-

He-Man: Hey, leave us out of this, wigger.

Skeletor: Why don’t the three of you get a room.

Edge: Who invited you to this anyway? You don’t have any romantic interests outside of 14 year old girls and Maria anyway, and everybody knows that she gets around more than…well…you know.

Lita: Hey!

Edge: Oh, come off it, you know it’s true. Anyway, if you’re so “real,” John, then why don’t you bring your stupid ass down here for a handicap match against me and the H-Unit here tonight?

HHH: Knock that off, would you? But…yeah…hey, whatever. With Vince out and Bischoff fired, why don’t we just book whatever the hell we feel like, eh?

Cena: What the hell do you guys think I am? Stupid?

Edge: Yes.

HHH: Absolutely.

Cena: Well, you’re right. I am. And you guys are on! THE CHAMP IS HERE!

Sadly, neither Val Venis, Trevor Murdoch, nor Mongo McMichael came out to claim their WWE Title shot.

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The Spirit Squad (w/ Johnny, Nicky, and Mitch) v. Kane and The Big Show
For the WWE Tag Team Titles

I’m usually happy for all the more Kane I can get, but Kane needs a little…less Kane. He looks like he might be having Lita’s baby or something. Kenny and Mikey are the other Spirit Squaders, and the ones actually in the match, in case you’re keeping score at home. Kane blows his pyro at the start of the match, and Show looks down and shakes his head. I can’t believe you’re jobbing to them either, big guy. Sigh. The story of the match is that Kane blows out his shoulder trying to set Lillian Garcia on fire, which causes him to miss Big Show being assaulted by the Spirit Squad, who pick up the win and rob the world of the greatest tag team in years. Maybe Kane should have teamed with Shawn Michaels.

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Maria Punk (nee Tennyson Lund) is standing by with the Spirit Squad.

Maria Punk (nee Tennyson Lund): Maria Punk neep Tennessee Lunch here, and I’m standing by with the Spirit Squad. Guys, do you want to do something exciting and fun?

Mitch: No! Let’s do a cheer instead!

Spirit Squad: Ready? Ok!

We won the titles,
Even though we’re lame!
Stars of OVW!
Don’t need more Kane!
WOO! Don’t do drugs!

Maria: Would this be a good time to mention that I’m challenging John Cena for the WWE Title?

Here’s Rob Van Dam and he’s got a briefcase.

Rob Van Dam: Hey, dudes! You’ll never believe what happened to me yesterday! So I’m looking around my hotel room, when what do I find, but an entire tiny room filled with booze! It was like the booze had it’s own hotel! And then I wondered…what else do bottles of liquor do when we’re not watching? Then I spent three hours listening to the sound of infinite space. Yeah! All right!! Oh, man! I almost forgot, I also got this awesome briefcase which totally holds, like, fifty Twinkies. And it still had a pair of Lita’s panties in it! I guess this, like, means I’ll get a title match whenever I want one! So I’m going to challenge Rhyno for the ECW World Title at Two Night Stand! Yeah! All right!! Take that, glass ceiling! I’ll be Mister Once a Year, RVD!

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Bobby Flay v. Iron Chef Wrestling Chris Masters
Hot Pockets Battle

Shinichiro Ohta: Fukui-san!

Kenji Fukui: Go ahead!

Ohta: How in the world WWE got Bobby Flay in for this, I’ll never know, but he’s microwaving up a storm while the Iron Chef is strangely content to put his meatball and cheese dish into a conventional oven!

Fukui: Is there any difference in taste because of the different methods of preparation?

Dr. Yukio Hatori: Hell if I know, the only Hot Pocket I’ve ever eaten is your mom.

Fukui: Would you stop?

Hatori: Sausage and Fish!

Ohta: Fukui-san!

Fukui: Ugh…Go ahead!

Ohta: There is a method to the Iron Chef’s madness after all! Using the Broil settings of the oven, the Iron Chef has heated up the innards of his Pockets to lava-like temperatures, and he’s squirting them at the challenger! Bobby Flay has given up due to second degree Three Cheese burns.

Hatori: It’s always nice to see somebody innovating in Kitchen Stadium!

Fukui: Wait…is that…Carlito is here! The Iron Chef’s best friend has come to celebrate the victory!

Ohta: Fukui-san!

Fukui: Go ahead!

Ohta: Carlito isn’t here to celebrate at all! It’s all a clever ruse! When the Iron Chef turned around to grab a bell pepper, Carlito nailed him with a nutcracker! Then, to add insult to injury, he used a cheese grater to dice apple all over the Iron Chef’s face!

Fukui: Sounds like a challenge to me! Join us next week when we find out who will reign supreme!

Carlito Caribbean Cool: Hold on a second. John Cena? I’d like to challenge you for the WWE Title!

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Shane Michaels is coming to the ring. Will it be to retire? Will it? Huh? Will it? No…probably not.

Shawn Michaels: I know what you’re all thinking, and no, I’m not out here to retire. Quite on the contrary, in fact, I’m here to set up a match for Backlash. You see, last night, I finally put Vince McMahon out for a little while by beating the ever living crap out of him, so now that we get to make our own matches and things, I figured I’d challenge John Cena for the WWE Title. I sure hope I’m the first one to do that. Because, I will get that title shot. Vince wanted the old Shawn back? Well, I am back, and I’m prepared to whine and bitch until I get my way!

Here comes the Shane! Hasn’t Marissa had that kid yet?

Shane McMahon: Hey, look, Shawn, it’s not a good idea to be taking shots at Vince right now, because all you’re going to do is provoke him, and he’ll come limping out here in a neck brace and challenge you to another match, and do you really want another friggin’ month of this crap, Shawn? I sure as hell don’t. Even if I was pissed at you for rubbing my face in my dad’s ass, I wasn’t going to say anything to you until you couldn’t keep your mouth shut! I probably would even have given you the power of prance back!

Uh-oh. Here’s Vince. Neck brace and all.

Shane: What have you done?!

Vince McMahon: Quite frankly, I’d like to thank you for one thing, Mr. Michaels. This neck brace has given me a wonderful out from sex with Linda and having to listen to Stephanie screech about her baby. But, quite frankly, there is a larger issue at stake here. And that is my plan to challenge John Cena for the WWE Title.

Shane: What the hell are you going on about?

Vince: Hold on…hold on. Then I realized that nobody friggin’ ever beats that guy, so instead I’m going to challenge you. Yeah! To a tag team match! Because I’m tired of being screwed over by you and your pal, God.

Jesus: Woah. Leave me out of this one man. This is kind of a rough time of year for me as it is, and now with Triple H stealing my gimmick, it’s like…I don’t know if I’ve got it in me to carry you and the little spawn there.

Vince: No, no! You’re in! And you’ll be facing me and my spawn here, Shane! Because nobody backs down from a McMahon! Especially not one in a neck brace!

Shawn: I don’t know, what do you have to say about that, Lord?

Jesus: Hey, whatever. I didn’t suffer for the sins of humanity to back down from the challenge of some old dude. You better be ready McMahons, because the Savior has two words for you: SUCK IIIIIIIIIIIIIT!

Break it down!

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Alexis is all decked out in Trish Stratus’ traveling pantsuit, which is a nice fashion choice. I still liked it better when Trish was Tommy Dreamer though. Maybe they sell some breakaway pantsuits. Predictably, Torrie and Boobsie have little more to do in this match than stand there and get kicked at. Well, I suppose in this industry, you find your marketable trait and you just stick to it. NEEDS MORE KANE~! Ehem. Sorry. Anyway, Alexis finishes off Torrie with a Chick Kick and then humps the title belt. Notable fellow faux lesbian Boobsie never offered to make out with her once, proving once and for all, I guess that there’s a definite rivalry between the women of Playboy and the women of Leg Fancy.

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Here’s Chavo. I don’t like the sound of this at all.

Chavo Guerrero: My name is Chavo Guerrero, and I don’t know if you know this, but I’m a relative of Eddie Guerrero. He sure was popular. So popular in fact, that Rey Misterio rode his popularity all the way to the Wrestlemania main event and a WWE World Title win. I, meanwhile, collected a modest paycheck to make an appearance at the end of that match. Now, I don’t know, necessarily, that it’s fair that the adoptive father of my uncle’s son should be allowed to be more of a heat sponge than me, but who am I to judge, really? Just keep cheering for me, ok? Thanks. Maybe, together, we can challenge John Cena for the WWE Title!

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Chavo Guerrero v. Shelton Benjamin
For the WWE Intercontinental Title

There ain’t no ghosts stoppin’ Shelton…NAH! Shelton references Mama to start. A lot of good she did me in WWE Fantasy this Season. I KNEW I should have picked up Sylvan instead. Chavo takes control with some Chavo-centric offense that nobody recognizes. Honestly, Chavo’s only good solo work came as the guy who tapped out before matches started and rode around on a hobby horse. The best thing that could ever happen to him is for him to feud with Alexis after she’s done with Trish so that she can throw all his Los Guerreros merchandise in a wood chipper. As it is, Shelton hits him with an Exploder, and that’s that.

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Chavo is pissing and moaning backstage.

Chavo Guerrero: I don’t get it! Everybody else gets to use sympathy heat to get over! Why can’t I?! Hell, friggin’ JBL got it! JBL! He’s not even Hispanic! Agh! I quit.

Tough Enough Jessie: Waaaaah! Who do I look like? Eric Bischoff?!

Chavo: Oh…right. No GM to quit to. Oh well, I’m going to go sell AmWay again. Can I interest you in these fine leather jackets?

TE Jessie: Sniff…no…I’m going to go challenge John Cena for the WWE Title.

Oh, man, Ric Flair is out. Pleeeeeeeeeease Naitch, do something to save this segment!

Ric Flair: WOO! It’s me! The Nature Boy! Folks, I couldn’t win the briefcase last night. I don’t know…I probably would have pawned it anyway. Did you see my girlfriend on Saturday? WOO! She’s younger than a whole sack full of kittens! Which reminds me of why I’m out here! I’m out because I’m going to challenge John Cena for the WWE Title! WOO! NAITCHA BOY!

Here’s…Er…some guy?

Armando Estrada Ramon Caribbean Cool Diaz Ruiz Inigo Montoya Ramon: My name is not important. What is important is the fact that I can cut a promo just like you, but in an over the top, hilariously bad Cuban accent, calling to mind the comic stylings of Scott Hall and Carlito! WOO! Because, you see? I’m going to STYLE and PROFILE all over the casa! Comprende?

Flair: Uh…What the hell are you talking about? Eh. I don’t care! I’m going to take your old lady for a ride on SPACE MOUNTAIN, FAT BOY! WOO!

Not Important: Ah, senior, that will be most difficult, because, you see, my mother, bless her heart, is still in Cuba. And unless you are willing to go there, pay to have her extradited, or meet her in international waters, it is impossible! Besides, we don’t have a Disney Adventure Park in Cuba anyway. Also, I spit in the face of people who don’t want to be da bad guy! WOO! Anyway, I think this segment has gone on about Three Minutes too long…Eh? Eh?

Totally Not Jamal runs out and beats the crap out of Flair with his sarong. Man, it’s nice to see Ric earning his paycheck. Armando breaks one of his cigars, and Totally Not Jamal decides to paint his face up like a drunk guy at a Jets game. Satisfied that they’ve both successfully proved their case for a return trip to the safer shores of OVW, both men leave.

Flair: Fire Rosey?! He’s already fired! Fire Rosey?! He’s already fired!

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Ozzie Guillen is in the front row. He probably doesn’t even know it’s not TNA. He’s wondering where the hell that Indian Guy and Chasym ran off to. He grabs a mic and challenges Chris Tian to an NWA Title match. He’ll probably get it too. Hahahahaha.

Backstage, Hunter and Edge are talking strategy.

Triple H: I don’t even get it.

Edge: You pick the briefcase you think has a million dollars, then you pick all these Diva Search losers, and they show you whether or not you were right, and then Howie Mandell punches you.

HHH: And that’s a show?

Edge: More or less.

HHH: There’s not even any ladders or anything. What kind of briefcase is worth getting if you don’t have to climb a ladder to get it?

Edge: You’re preaching to the choir on that one, man. Besides, I don’t know if hanging out with Howie Mandell for an hour is worth $500 or whatever.

HHH: Maybe if you got him to do the Bobby voice or something.

Edge: Or if you could hit him with the briefcase when his back was turned.

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The story of the match is Hunter sitting on the turnbuckle while Edge and Cena punch each other on the back. Edge accidentally Spears Hunter though, and that’s just the thing to get him into the match. The crowd, for their part is voraciously in favor of Lita’s cleavage. HHH and Cena pick on Edge for a little while, smacking him around for daring to interrupt their scintillating main event feud. After a Triple H spinebuster seems to set the table for Cena to hit the Five Knuckle Shuffle (not to be confused with Ken Shamrock’s Bare Knuckle Shuffle, sadly), Hunter hits him with the Pedigree, and that, my friends is that. Hunter celebrates the solidification of his main-eventness, while Edge pouts in the ring that he dove through a flaming table and all he got was a bedazzled jacket. Poor Edge.

Next Week: John Cena’s decent into vague unpopularity continues when John Cena challenges John Cena for the WWE Title. Kane and The Big Show accidentally challenge the wrong two members of the Spirit Squad to a rematch. And Jesus pisses Shawn Michaels off when he learns that all his training involves fasting for forty days.

Until next we meet!