Mick Foley is in the ring. Hey, thanks for coming out tonight, Mick!

Mick Foley: No, no! Thank you all for coming out the see me this week. I know, last week, I kind of…well, I basically called Mr. McMahon the biggest idiot to ever act idiotically like the idiot that he is. Err…was. Because he died. When his limo exploded. Did 

Randy Orton: Stop the dresses! Stop the dresses! I’ve come to the end of the beginning for this Miss Teri! I was watching the capes on a RVD pager, and I sawed something that a pair of theives, nobody else had never seen before! Kade! Kade was there and he set this limbo afire!

Lance Cade: I did?

Foley: I think he’s talking about Kane, Lance.

Orton: I, Ranky Q. Morgan, Legend Kill Guy, certifiably am.

Foley: Well, I will have you know, Randall, that Kane lost those powers as part of his ongoing divorce settlement!

Kane: *sigh* It’s true. Lita said they’d improve her “rock” shows. So I gave them to her in exchange for the collection of potato chips that look like Johnny Carson. I should’ve held out for custody of the Chicken Parmesan, but this divorce has been dragging on for years, man. I guess I just forgot about that last week. It couldn’t have been me. Well…I mean…It could have. But it wasn’t.

Orton: Makes pence to me! What about you, Mike Farley? Where were you on the might of Jude the Forst?

Foley: Um…Jude the…Nevermind. You know where I was, Randy. I was here at RAW!

Orton: Aha! You did it!

Foley: So were you!

Orton: Aha! I did it!

Kane: What about Booker? He used to summon fire all the time.

King Booker: I say, SUCKAAAAAAS! It’s me! King Bookah! And I actually forgot how to do the fire thing. I kind of wish I still remembered, because that was cool.

Foley: Oh, how convenient! You just happened to mention that now after a limo erupts in flames, that you forgot how to make things erupt in flames.

Booker: Hey! I wasn’t on this show to mention anything like that!

Foley: Touche.

Booker: Besides! I think it was that no good Bobby Lashley! Who’s been feuding with Mr. McMahon lately? That knave, Lashley! That’s who!

Orton: Hair, Hair, Kong Snooker! It muffed be Gobbly Lampley!

Booker: We must take our new findings to the Fedral Investigator immediately!

At this point, Bobby Lashley runs out and starts punching King Booker. Yes, way to prove you’re not a unrelenting hothead who is capable of blowing another man up. By punching a man in a crown.

John Cena: Yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo! YO! YO! YOOOO!

Vince McMahon is dead,
And everyone is grieving,
His limo was a bomb,
Blew up as he was leaving!

We don’t know who,
Would kill such a nice guy,
Was it everyone on the roster?
Or perhaps a TNA Spy?

A lot of people hated him,
A tougher mystery than Clue!
Was it me? Or Great Khali?
In the parking lot with a shoe?

I don’t know whodunnit,
Everybody wanted Vince’s rear,
What I do know, ladies and gents,
Is that THE CHAMP IS HERE!

Jonathan Coachman: Play my music! Aw yeah! Thanks for that rap, John. That pretty much distinctly sets up the basis for this whole angle…rather obliquely. But you take what you can get when Stephanie is writing the show. But I guess we’ve got to have some matches tonight, or else it’s just going to be two hours of us sitting around yelling. So tonight, four of you guys will fight each other in a tag match, and one of you guys will fight Not Jamal! That’s two matches! Good enough for me.

Cena: Man, the wheels are falling off this carousel already.

Foley: Huh?

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They booked this match? Maybe Vince is dead. Lawler thinks London killed Vince because he’s got a weird cross between a Christian Bale murderer vibe and a Unabomber beard. I’ve heard crazier theories. Myself? I think Kendrick did it, and he’s using London to take the fall for him. “Oh, yeah, dude. Charles Manson beards are in this season!” Now with Vince dead he can move on to bumping off Triple H, and he can finally get that date with Stephanie he was shooting for on Smackdown a few years ago. Brilliant planning, Spanky! Oh, and in case you were wondering, Kendrick and London came over here thanks to the “Supplimental Draft,” part of a requirement that Internet Heat’s roster be replenished. That aside, by the way, was longer than the actual match, which ended about ten minutes ago when Spanky pinned Haas.

Backstage, the F.B.I. is talking to Coach.

Nunzio: Ey! Coach! How comes you didn’t draft me to RAW?

Chuck Palumbo: Yeah! I’m tired of being a biker. I want to go back to being the cool guy in adidas Sweatsuits.

Nunzio: Wait…biker guy?

Palumbo: Yeah.

Nunzio: Internet Heat?!

Palumbo: ….

Johnny Stamboli: Ey! Coach! Hire me back!

Nunzio: Go away, Johnny! You’re going to ruin this for us!

Jonathan Coachman: Wait…you guys aren’t the federal investigators at all!

Nunzio: Heh…I did say “FBI” on the phone….

Dean Malenko: I’m investigating this case.

Coach, Nunzio, Stamboli, and Palumbo: It’s DEAN MALENKO!!!

Malenko: Coach, if you wouldn’t mind answering a few questions.

Coach: N..no! Of course not, Mr. Malenko! Please! Have a seat! Have my seat! I’ll sit on the floor! Under the floor! Want some fruit? Have the whole tray!

Malenko: Is that camera on?

Coach: Of course it is, Mr. Malenko! You know how the wrestling business is….

Malenko: This is an investigation, Mr. Coachman! I will not be having my interviews taped. You hear me?

Coach: Yes sir! Out! Out!

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Carlito is in the ring! This night keeps getting more and more exciting!

Carlito Caribbean Cool: What the hell was that?! The WWE Draft hits and I lose both my feuds? Now who am I supposed to wrestle without my TV dad and ex-girlfriend running around? Oh, Vince! Why did you have to die so young? Now who will I randomly feud with?

Why! It’s The Sandman!

The Sandman: I am here to randomly feud with whoever’s segment I’m interrupting just now. I’m too drunk and bloody to see who you are, so somebody will just have to tell me later. Ok, bye!

Carlito: A match made in heaven!

Sandman: I spit beer in the face of people who don’t want to be drunk!

Carlito: Even better!

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Cryme Tyme is up next on the Vince Train.

JTG: Yo yo yo yo yo yo yo YO! This one goes out to our homey, Vinnie Mac! May he rest in peace.

Shad Gaspard: Pour one for me and one for my homey, J.

JTG: Word.

Shad: Actually, I’m kind of glad his creepy ass isn’t following us around anymore.

JTG: Shad-

Shad: Yeah, yeah, I know. We’re supposed to be selling this stupid crap. Oooh! Vince’s last coffee! Maybe we can clone him from it! Oooh, or Vince’s plunger! Never leave home with out it. This is wack, J. We hated that guy.

JTG: I don’t thi-

Shad: No, don’t deny it. You hated it too. The way he’d wear that stupid doorag and try to shoot dice with us? Or when we’d hit up the strip club and he’d pull a gun on some bitches for no reason at all? Just to fit in? That was one crazy cracka, and I, for one, and glad he’s dead.

JTG: Sh…shaaad! Look behind you?

Shad: Bitch, what could possibly be behind me?! THE ORIGINAL OG!!!!

Dean Malenko: Shad Gaspard and JTG! Wanted for about 30 televised crimes, if I’m not mistaken. What’s one more on the record, eh, “Cryme Tyme?”

JTG: I’ll take the plea bargain! I’ll take the plea bargain!

Shad: Can you get me in jail with Paris, Mr. Malenko?

Dean: It’s interviewing time. GET THAT CAMERA OUT OF HERE! NOW!!

I’d like to welcome Daivari back to RAW for one reason, and one reason only. LAYLEAHLALEHAOOOOOOooooOOOH! Cade and Murdoch are at ringside, because apparently they’ll be fighting the Hardyz at Vengeance. Well, good thing that Matt’s on RAW now, eh. EHEM. Maybe Imagi really does give Jeff power over the brand split. I don’t know. Daivari gets about 13 seconds of offense before Jeff casts him down to Internet Heat with a Swanton. After the match, Cade and Murdoch are going to get them some mic time.

Lance Cade: Quite frankly, I’m surprised we’re still WWE World Tag Team Champions. How did that happen?

Trevor Murdoch: Quite frankly?! That’s what Mr. McMahon would have said! WAAAAAAAH!

Cade: And he’s dead! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Tough Enough Jessie: Or Steven A. Smith! And his show got cancelled! WAAAAAAAH!

And Jeff Hardy hates Steven A. Smith, so he hits a cross body on all of them. Way to respect the memory of a crappy ESPN show, Jeff.

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Backstage, Coach is on the phone.

Jonathan Coachman: I can’t believe Nicole Ritchie is pregnant either! You can’t trust those skinny girls…They’re crafty. Oh, man, and did you hear about Lindsey Lohan? Oh. Oh man. So, the other day, I-

The Iron Sheik: COKE JOHNMAN!

Coach: I gotta go. Yes, Iron Sheik, what can I do for you?

Sheik: I do not be to one to kill Kenny Man! I just joking about heeling him last week!

Coach: Yeah, I don’t think anybody thought you actually did it, Sheik.

Sheik: WHAT?! You think Sheik no good at heel? I kill five people before fasting break today! I kill ten people with sandwich! Kenny Man is NOTHING to Sheik! I kill him like buddy knows business!

Coach: No, no! I’m sure you could have killed him. But I’m also sure you didn’t.

Sheik: You want to join Sheik Bowling Team?! We have Pat Patterman, Giant Uganda, and Superflea Jnunka already on team! YOU WILL BOWL WITH SHEIK!

Coach: Yeah…Sure. Sounds like fun. What nights do we-

Sheik kicks Coach in the balls.

Sheik: I HEEL ON YOU! THERE IS NO SHEIK BOWL TEAM! Sheik number one! Johnman hock ptooie!

Elsewhere….

Maria (nee Punk Tennyson Lund Caribbean Cool): Fudgecookie-san! Fudgecookie-san! Fudgecookie-san!

Willian Regal: Maria, liver biscuit, there’s no one there to talk to anymore. I’m afraid those chaps got drafted to Smackdown with my dear friend Dave Taylor.

Maria: Oooh! Does that mean I win Kitchen Stadium?

Regal: Er…Yes. I suppose it does, dear.

Maria: YAY!

Santino Marella: Ey! Mr. Regal-a! It’s-a so nice-a to finally-a meet you-a!

Regal: I’m sorry, gov’na, but I don’t speak to foreign stereotypes. Pip pip cheerio!

Maria: Say something Italian to me, San Diego!

Marella: That’s-a Spicy Meatball-a!

Maria: I would so neep you right now!

Nunzio: What’s-a goin’ on over here, huh? You tryin’ to steal my gimmick?!

Marella: AH! Nunzio-a! I hear-a the F.B.I.-A. was here tonight-a, but I no-a expecta-a to see you-a!

Nunzio: If anybody’s going to be the Italian stereotype around here, it’s me! And possibly Chuck. But not Stamboli, he’s still fired.

Stamboli: Awww.

Nunzio: Let’s slap that silly accent right off-a him, guys!

And the FBI chases after Marella. Meanwhile….

Todd Grisham: Todd Grisham here, and I’m standing by with Vince McMahon’s limo driver, Eric Bischoff?!

Eric Bischoff: Heh. Tough times, Todd. What I wouldn’t give for a job as a translator right now, huh? So, yeah, I was the limo driver that night. Good thing was that Jason Hervey called me a couple minutes before it blew, and told me that the pilot we’re shopping around, about a dog that bakes pies that can cure disease got some interest. Yean, Lifetime is thinking about making it into a movie with Mary Steenburgen. Only, the dog has to have an abusive alcholic husband played by Ted McGinley, and the pies have to be metaphors for women’s liberation some how. And I’ve got to figure out some way to write in a bulimic puppy. But after that, we’re golden. And hey, so this limo blows up. Crazy right? Now, I have some experience as a limo investigator, and-

Grisham: That wasn’t my question. My question was, why wasn’t I the limo driver?!

Bischoff: Huh?

Grisham: IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME IN THAT LIMO! I SHOULD HAVE DIED THAT NIGHT! Why was I spared, Eric? Huh? What have I done that’s so great that Mr. McMahon would die instead of me? Answer me that question? What cruel fate forces me to still walk this earth?

Bischoff: Guess you were just lucky, huh?

Grisham: Luck is a bullet lodged between my eyes, Mr. Bischoff. Luck is a vat of acid suddenly appearing so that I may cast myself into its tangy embrace. Luck is the poorly tied noose I made out of Nerds rope not snapping on my way down. No, Mr. Bischoff. It wasn’t luck that saved me that night. It was the cruel hand of fate. Fate, that laughs in my face every waking moment, mocking my every transgression as a traverse this cruel world. Do you know what it’s like to lose your soul, Eric?

Bischoff: Funny story. Vampiro and I were doing shots off of A.C. Jazz one night at Scores when-

Suddenly, Todd Grisham throws himself on his own metaphorical sword. Todd Grisham has fallen. Also backstage, Mick Foley is headed to the ring. I hope he doesn’t get lost and end up in Cleveland!

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Not Jamal and Foley trade punches to start, while J.R. can’t help but call them both fatties. That’s the insightful commentary that Joey Styles and Michael Cole never bring to table, ya’ll. Not Jamal brings everything in his arsenal (being fat) but Foley counters with his veteran defense (also being fat). Finally, Not Jamal, frustrated by his inability to reach around their massive girths and poke Foley in the eye, just settles for tossing him into the ring steps and sitting on his head. Foley is out. And the ring bell never sounded because WWE Timekeeper Mark Yeaton was off getting interviewed by Dean Malenko (he did seem to be on Austin’s side during his feud with McMahon!), so I guess we can just forget any of this ever happened? Yay!

Backstage, Dean finishes up with Mark Yeaton and turns his attention to John Cena.

Dean Malenko: John Cena, is it? You had a lot of experience with explosives when you were in The Marine, didn’t you? A few cars blowing up in that, yes?

John Cena: Yeah, but that was just a movie! I didn’t do any of the pyrotechnics or anything….

Malenko: I will tell you what is and is not a movie, Mr. Cena.

Cena: But The Marine-

Malenko: Was a movie. Yes. What the hell?! What is this camera doing back here? How many goddamn cameras do they need for this stupid show?

Backstage, a white limo pulls up. This is either:

A) Ric Flair because he forgot what show he’s on already.
B) JBL
C) A totally awesome Transformers crossover
D) Stephanie McMahon
E) Vince, who is totally fine and wondering what the hell is going on.

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Back in the medical office….

Dr. Yukio Hatori: Can…can you cook chicken cordon bleau?

Mick Foley: Ow…No! What the hell are you doing here? Where’s WWE Chief Medical Officer Dr. The Boogeyman?

Hatori: He got transferred to ECW to be Tommy Dreamer’s personal doctor. Now open wide and say “Ah.”

Foley: AAHHH!

Hatori sticks a spoon of pudding into Foley’s mouth.

Hatori: So I’m the only doctor left on staff. Thank God they hired me back. Can you cook ravioli, Mr. Foley?

Foley: Mmm! Beefy!

Hatori sticks another spoon of pudding into Foley’s mouth.

Dean Malenko: Get out. You and the stupid camera. I need to talk to Foley.

Hatori: It wouldn’t be polite for Mick to talk with food in his mouth.

Foley: Mmmft oggt a gmm pofft.

Malenko: You win this time, Foley. Next time you won’t be so lucky.

Malenko storms out. In the ring….

Ken Kennedy: You know what? I’m glad I got traded over to RAW instead of staying on Smackdown! Being on the same channel as the Pussycat Dolls and Gilmore Girls was really starting to have a negative impact on my positive self image. But Monk? Now there’s a masculine male role model that I can pattern my life after. So from now on, I will dedicate my career to be more like Monk! Also, to a lesser extent, like Vince McMahon, although I’m hoping not to die in any car bombings anytime soon. But mostly like Monk. Monk!

In the parking lot, Eric Bischoff stands by the limo door. Is it Jason Hervey? Or Arli$$?! I can’t wait!

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Sensational Sherri died? Why aren’t we trying to find her real killers?!

Too soon? Sorry about that.

Jillian’s gimmick is, of course, that she’s actually Scott Hall’s sister. So she starts off by trying to take a survey of the crowd, but before she can get out her “Hey, yo” she’s interrupted by Alexis. What a bitch. Nobody stops you when you start to get naked! Melina compliments Jillian on her complexion, now that she got that Rice Krispie thing taken care of. Too bad she couldn’t fix MNM. Boobsie is all over Melina like a hilarious bondage set afire, but before she can unleash the full extent of her fetish powers, Melina unleashes her new finishing move (tentative name: Rear Naked Leg Drop) on Alexis for the win. In Alexis’ home town! Oh the humiliations!

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Want to see what a burned up limo looks like?! Check out WWE.com! Is that going in the WWE museum with that car Austin dumped all that fried rice into? Backstage, Eric Bischoff is asleep on top of the limo. I hope it doesn’t explode.

Lawler and Ross agree that King Booker and Bobby Lashley have never, ever fought before, totally ignoring Smackdown’s best feud in, like, three years. Seriously, how do they think he got the King moniker? Maybe he owns a furniture store in Houston. “Suckas, I’m goin’ REGAL with savings! I say! There are deals on these beds knightly!” I should write for local furniture ads. I could make a small fortune! Orton spends the entire first portion of the match enthralled by something under one of his nails.

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Orton has the CHINLOCK~! applied to Cena coming out of the break, and Cena is going down quick. For all you Orton haters who say he does nothing but CHINLOCK~! throughout his matches? There’s why! It’s taking everything Cena has just to stay in this match. Plus, it’s twice as exciting as anything I’ve ever seen in the UFC. Lashley finally tags in, and he’s a “house of fire” according to J.R. At least he’s not a limo of fire, huh? He takes out Booker, but he’s not paying attention, and he slips on all the missed continuity all over the ring. Lashley falls, so Orton wins! Go, Randy! After the match, you can tell Sharmell is pissed that nobody remembers that she hates Booker. Oh well.

Stephanie McMahon was in the limo! That settles it! GUILTY! GUILTY! WITCH!!

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Backstage….

Jonathan Coachman: Some of the boys are saying you’re a witch, Steph.

Stephanie McMahon: I guess we’ll never know, because you don’t have a duck to weigh me against! Mwahahahahaha!

Coach: Actually, we’ve got…like…seven.

Stephanie: I’m not a witch, Coach.

Coach: No! No! I’m not saying you are. But if you were-

Stephanie: Bye, Coach.

Stephanie comes down to the ring. Why did it only take her ten seconds when it takes everybody else, like, twenty minutes? Is that her power? Punctuality?

Stephanie McMahon: As you all know, my father recently died in a limo explosion, and that’s given me time to do a lot of thinking. Not thinking about travel options other than limos, obviously, but other things. Like figuring out who blew up my dad, so that I can put him in a wrestling match against Not Jamal. Or perhaps Triple H. Surely that would teach them a lesson they won’t soon forget. Unless Not Jamal and Triple H were the ones that did this. Then they’d wrestle…Great Khali, I guess? I don’t know. I haven’t really planned this out very well. Mostly I’ve just been picking out new blinds for the breakfast nook lately. So…Yeah. See you all at the PPV probably.

Next Week: Stephanie McMahon levels her greatest accusations yet as Triple H totally gets the wrong color of blinds to go with the table setting. Dean Malenko continues his investigation when he questions “Hacksaw” Jim Duggan as to why he’s still employed by WWE. And The Sandman spits beer on a four year old in a “Chain Gang 4 Life” T-Shirt while the kids dad screams “YEaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

Whoever you are, you’ve broken the law. Know this: I am Dean Malenko. I will find you. And when I do, I will destroy you. Every fabric of your being, until you cease to be, and everything that you ever were, that you ever knew, all your hopes and dreams, fears and loves, will be less than the sand on my shoes.

Whoever you are, I know you’re out there. And in the next few months, possibly before a big Pay Per View like Summerslam, I will catch up to you. If you’re not running yet, you better start. Because Dean Malenko is on the case. And your days are numbered.

-Dean

P.S. In other news, I bought a new ferret today! His names is Mr. Winkles! He’s adorable. You guys would totally love him. He loves to cuddle. Just like his daddy. :( Man, I miss Lita. I kind of wish I wouldn’t have snapped her shins that one time.