(OMG Memorial Day~!)

Boobsie McTitsalot vs. Alexis Laree vs. Maria (nee Punk Tennyson Lund Caribbean Cool) vs. Tough Enough Jessie vs. Jillian Hall vs. Shannon Moore vs. Kelly Kelly vs. Brooke Brooke vs. Layla El Layla vs. a Gander vs. Michelle McCool vs. Krystal Marshall vs. Melina
In a Divas Watersports Battle Royal for the Chance to Have a WWE.Com Photoshoot, Whenever It Is Your Turn to Have a WWE.com Photoshoot
 

Backstage, Shane McMahon is still driving around on his damned go-kart.

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Shane has driven out to ringside for his big announcement. Please let it be that Rick is replacing me with a wisecracking robot! Please let it be that Rick is replacing me with a wisecracking robot.

Shane McMahon: I know what you’re all thinking, and no, nobody is being replaced with a wisecracking robot. No, we tried that with Benoit a few months ago, and nobody seems to have even noticed. Instead, what I’m out here to announce is the first ever Tri-Brand WWE Draft. Apparently, my pops, Vince McMahon, saw that the NFL was looking to move their draft into prime time, and so he turned to Dusty Rhodes and said, “Dammit, Dusty, we should have a WWE Draft!” To which Dusty responded, “Flablaweebedoo on tha mothaship if you wheeeeeeeel!” And before you ask, no, nobody bothered to tell him that we already had a WWE Draft a couple of times and cancelled it. I was totally going to, but then he pulled me aside, and he said, “Son. I want you to write me a poem.” And I was like, “Booyah!” My dad never supports my artistic endeavors! So yeah. For my sake, please just pretend like you’ve never heard of the WWE Draft before tonight. Thanks a bunch. Now ladies and gentlemen, a poem. Eheeeeem. Yo yo yo yo yo yo yo!

John Cena and Lashley
Think they’re hardcore,
But we know the truth,
They really are a bore.

John Cena is a failure,
At everything he tries,
Bobby Lashley isn’t better,
Shane-O-Mac tells no lies!

Got my tag partners,
Not Jamal and Khali,
Bustin’ heads and asses,
Stereotypin’ like it’s 1993!

Shane McMahon is a poet,
I’ve got rhymes like Poe,
The greatest poet in Canada,
Since the master known as Snow.

I’m the true informer,
I make everything clear,
You can’t break my skills,
THE CHAMP IS HERE!!

Maria (nee Punk Tennyson Lund Caribbean Cool): I forgot my shoe! Great performance! Judges?

John Cena: Shane-O-Mac! You my dog, dog! You know that! That was tight! I wish I could rhyme like you! You’re the bomb, yo! Yo factor! Yo Yo! YoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoYO! YO!!!!

Jeff Hardy: I thought that was beautiful. Shane, your poetry is 2Xtreme!

The Genius: I cannot tell a lie: I’m thrilled to be on TV again. Your poem sucked, but who cares? Keep paying me!

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Just Kenny is out carrying some kind of…pelt? Either that’s a rib on Pat Patterson’s old career as an Indian fur trader, or they’ve officially run out of gimmicks and are just sending guys to ringside with props now. Actually, between that and Nitro’s Sergeant Pepper’s coat, I’m beginning to wonder. You don’t suppose they killed and skinned TNA’s mascot, do you? I do love who Lawler’s constant harping on how Cade and Murdoch is supposed to leave us shocked either if they turn face or if they turn back heel. Is this a good time to note Benjamin and Haas’ new “Paul London and Brian Kendrick” inspired outfits? No, because it’s time for….

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Murdoch hits a 720 splash to the outside. Between that and the Canadian Destroyer, I’m pretty sure he’s pretty much killed any hope the X-Division ever had in being taken seriously. If fatty can hit your moves? You’re done. The announces spend the rest of the match wondering what it would be like if these teams split up. Well…Let’s see. I actually don’t think the Hardyz are a real “official” team still anyway, Haas would get fired as per usual, Benjamin would disappear, Murdoch would go back to exclusively doing movie reviews for WWE.com and appearing randomly in backstage skits with Val Venis, Cade would fade off to OVW only to be inexplicably brought back twice a year, and I don’t know what, oh WHAT, I would do if the great veteran team of Just Kenny and Johnny Nitro split. I can’t even think about it without getting the shivers. Speaking of Nitro, he totally gets pinned by the Hardyz. Afterwards, the exchange goes something like this.

Shelton Benjamin: I…want to challenge you?! To a match?! At Three Night Stands?!

Jeff Hardy: Have you ever danced with a pixie in the light of a single candle burning in a lit room? Or built a volcano of fire with your bare nostrils?

Matt Hardy: I think what my brother is trying to say is LADDER MATCH!?!~!~!~!

Lance Cade: I don’t know whether my face should be registering excitement over this potentially good match, anger that the Hardyz still haven’t acknowledged our face turn, or disappointment that they aren’t granting us the title shot.

Trevor Murdoch: I’m choosing to go with “Soon, I will be back to reviewing movies on WWE.com while you go back to OVW. See you in September.”

Charlie Haas: Can I seriously get some new pants? Please?

Todd Grisham is standing by with John Cena’s Door.

Todd Grisham: I am not going to interview the door. I’m not doing it. No. I don’t care if it was once the Number One Contender for the Intercontinental title. Doors don’t talk. Not even magic doors.

Tough Enough Jessie: But this was my big exclusive! WAAAAAAAAAAAH! Now WWE Magazine will have the scoop on the 12 page exclusive interview with The Door. WAAAAAAH!

Grisham: Geez. I’m…I’m sorry. Here…Let me try. Hello, Todd Gris-

T.E. Jessie: IT’S TOO LATE!

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Backstage….

John Cena: You need some game, Toddster.

Todd Grisham: It’s just like…Who interviews a door, you know? Doors can’t talk. It’s stupid. It, like so many other things on this show, makes no sense.

Cena: Todd, if you want to impress the chicks, you’ve got to do that kind of thing. Interview doors, man! Live dangerously. See that coffee pot over there? You should go interview it, man! Give it the ol’ work over. Find out why it keeps making coffee that gets spilt all over and starts feuds! There’s no more nefarious backstage politician than the coffee pot, Todd Grisham, and you should go over there and find out what makes it tick.

Grisham: Electricity, John. Electricity makes it tick. And I’m not all that interested in “impressing the chicks.”

Cena: Oooh, hey! Got it. No, it’s cool to like dudes, man. It’s the 21st Century! So…How about that Great Khali, huh? GAAAAHGH! OWOOOFRGT! Like, Klingon? Right? Am I right? Heheh…heh?

Grisham: Ugh. I don’t like “dudes,” John.

Cena: Woah! Hey! What do you like then? Animals? Dolls? Animal dolls? Oh, man! You’re not one of those guys who are into plants are you?! STAY AWAY FROM MY FERN GARDEN!!

Grisham: NO! What?! No!

Cena: Phew. Have you ever thought you take this show too seriously, man?

Grisham: If I don’t, no one will.

At that, Grisham gets up, walks over to the coffee pot, and punches it, electrocuting himself. Todd Grisham has fallen.

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Maria is standing by with Santino Marella. Who?!

Maria (nee Punk Tennyson Lund Caribbean Cool): Maria neep Pork Tender Loin Cut Concisely here, and I’m standing by with some dude. Isn’t that great?

Santino Marella: Maria-a! I’m-a the Intercontinental champion-a! Santino Marella-a!

Maria: Good for you! It’s always good to have goals in life! My goal is to kick a soccer ball so far that it hits me in the back of the head! I can’t do it yet, but I’m working at it!

Santino: I hope-a I get drafted somewhere-a other than Internet Heat-a!

Maria: Is that accent Russian?

Santino: It’s-a a long story-a!

Randy Orton: If it is or is not my besterest friends in the west, Martini and Stabbo Motella! Congraduation on your big Interstate title victories, man! You really started what you finished out there in the squad circle! I’m glib you asked! I’m here to talk about a subject that is both near and also dear to my hearth. For, you see, I, Legend Kill Guy Ranky Q. Morgan have achooed myself a promise. And that promise may or may not be to honor the memorandum of The Heartburn Cop Shane McMahon with a contusion right to the ol’ face of one Rod Van Dan tonight in the very ring that is that. Well, Marko Sharko I plan on starting what I finished and claiming the DESTINY~! that is that of Ranky Q. Morgan. Also, I hope I get drifted onto Friendly Night Snacktown where I can hog out with my best fiend in the whole wide girl, Edgardo. I miss you, Ned!

You can tell we’re in Canada because the crowd goes banana for Orton. Apparently, RVD went on WWE.Com and issued this challenge to defend the honor of Shawn Michaels because…wait, what? If this isn’t the most flimsily constructed Rob Van Dam feud ever, I have no idea what is. And that includes the time in ECW when he feuded with Chris Chetti about whether or not grapes were a fruit. Rob jumps on the top rope to start, but Orton leaps, like, 14 feet in the air and dropkicks him halfway up the ramp. I don’t care how many hotels he destroys or Divas he chases off, dude still has a hell of a dropkick. In fact, let’s leave on that warm note.

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Wait…we have to watch the rest of the match? Man…Orton is, of course, locking in the CHINLOCK~! which is hilariously offset by the “during the break” feature where Orton breaks out like five new moves. It’s not even worth trying any more. Eventually, Rob kind of realizes that this is the closest thing to a push he’s going to get from here on out, and he starts drooling and goes catatonic. Then he falls over. Orton wins! Randy politely tries to wake him up by kicking him in the head a few times, but Rob’s zoned out. Man, if only there were some ECW Originals there to help him out. Like…Um…Sabu? Wait…scratch that one. Doesn’t Dreamer owe him one?

In White Plains, New York….

Beulah McDreamercuddy: Tommy, Rob is getting kicked in the head. Didn’t he save you from Randy’s cousin Abe? Shouldn’t you be helping him?

Tommy Dreamer: He’s in Canada, hon. What am I supposed to do? Teleport?

Beulah: We have some YJStinger in the fridge. Make the bees take you.

Dreamer: Ugh. Look, Rob and I aren’t speaking right now. He doesn’t want to be HARDCORE or EXTREME or ON TIME FOR WORK, that’s his problem. Maybe getting kicked in the head will get him out of that. If you’re so interested in it why don’t you go help him?

Beulah: Maybe I will!

Dreamer: Fine.

Beulah: Fine!

Dreamer: I just hope that with this draft coming up, Mr. Benoit-

Beulah: Shhhh! Commercials!

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So that explains why those two couldn’t roll around in the water earlier. You know Torrie was just dying to go do it though. She could’ve wrestled two matches! Flair would’ve done it with her. It is kind of scary when your one wrestler is Torrie though. I forget what the Canadian laws are for these things now a days, so to be on the safe side, the crowd covers its eyes for the entire match. They don’t really miss much as Flair bails pretty much right away to teach Carlito a lesson in how to deal with women. Carlito responds by hitting Torrie with a Back Cracker for the win. Lesson learned, I’d say. All women are conniving egomaniacs with emotional issues. Especially the pretty ones.

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PROMO OF THE YEAR~!~!

Totally Not Jamal: UUUUUGOOOAHAASAMOA!

The Great Khali: UFUFT! NOBOANGOAOOGHA!

Not Jamal: SAFOOOTA! ELYOONOOA!!!

Khali: JUJUOPOIA!

Not Jamal: AHFTA!

Khali: GURGLEFLAX!

Not Jamal: NUSHTRAL!

Shane McMahon: That was…The greatest thing ever. Dude, what did they say?

Indian Eric Bischoff: Hmm? I’m Union. I don’t have to work on Memorial Day.

Shane: Then why are you here?

Indian Eric: Free food.

Khali: AFASAMOA!

Not Jamal: UNGAGAGA! REFFF! IN!! PEEEAG!

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Maria is in the ring.

Maria (nee Punk Tennyson Lund Caribbean Cool): Let’s all make out!

Iron Chef Wrestling Chris Masters: Maria! I’ve about had it with you! Ever since you replaced Ohta-san, my spotless Iron Chef record has become tattered and broken. I’m here to force you into retirement so they have no choice to hire Ohta-san back and I can resume my winning ways. Now hold out your arms so I can put the Master Lock on you!

Maria: Uh oh! Fudgecookie-san!!!

Dr. Yukio Hatori: Don’t drag me into this! I’ve got my fingers crossed I get bumped to ECW in the draft. Hopefully I can get that fatty Tazz to sit in on commentary with me for a while.

Maria: That’s not right! You’re supposed to say “Go ahead.”

Masters: More like, “Go Ahead and put her in the Masterlock.” Har har har! I’m so witty!

Maria: And significantly less balding!

Masters: Aww, you noticed!

Santino Marella: Don’t-a worry, Maria-a! I’ll-a save you-a!

Maria: The Scarlet Pumpkin Nickel!

Marella: Umm…no. It’s-a me! Santino Marella-a!

Maria: I think it works better if you don’t tell me your secret identity.

Masters: My arch nemesis of, like, two weeks!

Masters locks Marella up in the Masterlock and knocks him out. I guess Santino is only over in “foreign countries.”

CM Punk: ‘Sup, baby? Did I miss anything?

Maria: Only me almost getting killed by the Iron Chef! Thankfully that mysterious masked man saved me!

Punk: Woops. Sorry. I was backstage avoiding alcohol, tobacco and drugs. Damn that Spiderman! Always swooping in to save my girl.

Masters: Can I go now?

Punk: Sure.

Maria: Gah. No wonder I neeped you.

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I love how Khali and Not Jamal had more mic time than Lashley tonight. That’s why I love this show. I miss Not Important and Indian Eric Bischoff though. Watching the two guys from the deepest darkest jungles just hang out with Shane doesn’t seem right. If The Voice of the Undertaker weren’t on vacation, I’m sure he’d set it straight. The crowd is just merciless in their indecision about whether or not John Cena is a sexy homeboy from the east coast or a no talent whitey. I feel the same way about Bobby Lashley. Ultimately, Totally Not Jamal takes Cena out with a Thumb to the Eye and Khali hits Lashley with the Kinda A Chokeslam so that Shane can get the victory. Which sets the table up nicely for Three Night Stands because…um…Well…HEY LOOK It’s Vince!! The heels all party. Not Jamal and Khali are totally going to the McMahon house for hot dogs and burgers. I bet they get along great with Triple H and baby Aurora Borealis.

Sunday Sunday Sunday: Another PPV?! Geez, didn’t we just have, like, twelve of these? Anyway, Bobby Lashley wrestles 13 matches and loses to Vince McMahon. The WWE Women’s Title is decided in a pudding match where it belongs (seriously!). And Cena retains, so the ECW fans at Three Night Stands riot. All five of them.