Dag, yo. It’s the last Heat of the year, and The Immolator is here to tell you all about it. Because you didn’t watch it. Why didn’t you watch it? WHY?!

Nor do I have any mail in my giant sack this week. Phooey.

We are Live! From the heart of Times Square, and RAZZMA TAZZ is already parked outside waiting for Dick Clark to show up. The voice of KOLE interjects to bring Tazz back inside WWF New York where his fans are supposedly clamouring for him.

After the titles. we go back inside where Mitchell is still by himself. He’s gesticulating so wildly, he flings his pen across the table in excitement. Time for our first match…

Turn it up! It’s FATAL BERT (w/out SCOTTY 2 INJURED or CAPTAIN CARROT) coming down the ramp. Fink says he weighs 350 pounds. Hmm… Mitchell tells us APA and Show are on the sked for Heat. Mashed potatoes! Albert’s chewing gum in the ring now. Didn’t his Mom ever tell him not to chew gum when doing a sports or sports-entertainment activity?

Riffs in the style of Def Leppard. 1-2-3-4… it’s THE ASS KING (w/ CHUCK CHUCK BO-BUCK). Last week, I called them lame, but now they are the greatest tag team on the face of the Earth. Why? They have heat, bless their souls. Now all they have to do is keep the effete stuff on the innuendo level. For instance, Mitchell just called them “unique.” See, you’re already ruining it. The more you point it out, the less amusing it is. Tazz just arrived and called them “happy.” Dang.

Albert is laughing at Chuck’s samurai headband. Albert gets the early offence, including an Irish whip into a Vader-like clothesline. Rhyno is your guest non-host tonight. Gunn stumbles to the outside, where Palumbo examines his partner’s teeth reeeeeally close to make sure they are still pearly white. You know what that means… bonzo gonzo, it’s Albert with the double noggin-knocker. Tomorrow’s RAW is three hours of old footage. Clothesline under the second rope by Albert. What the hell dance step is that? Kind of like Breaststroke Man instead of Running Man. Punch, punch, bell ringer… Albert is old-school, baby. YAAAAA misses the Avalanche, Gunn steps away and applies the neckbreaker from behind. Tazz says he’ll put Dick Clark in a box. Two count from the ref who I do not recognize. Heel choking and punching and ref distracting. Swinging neckbreaker. Irish to the far corner, reversed, YAAAAAA back elbow stops that attempt. Bicycle kick nails Gunn as he tries to capitalize. Both men are down. Flair v. McMahon at the RR. Tazz laughs when Mitchell calls Chuck a cheerleader. Both men up after a nice rest. Albert with the advantage. Irish to the corner, YAAAAAAAAvalanche got him that time. Albert does his Dusty imitation. Punch, punch, mashed potatoes! Big punch knocks Gunn down. Gorilla press into a sit-down slam. Chuck distracts the ref, and Albert goes to the apron to voice his displeasure. Gunn tries to capitalize with a kick, but Albert catches the leg, then trips the other leg and procures the double leg lock… GIANT SWING! Hey, this week, Gunn holds his arms outstretched, just like I talked about last week. Good work. Now both guys are dizzy. Albert with the sign of the Baldo Bomb, but Palumbo gets on top of the apron, distracting Albert… and allowing Gunn to nail the Fame-Asser for the win (5:14). Palumbo puts the boots to him after, and Scotty is not in the hizzouse tonight. Double DDT from Gumbo! Tazz appreciates the violence.

APA are hyped as we go to break. Not much to that last match, but we did get the continuing development of Gunn and Palumbo. And Chuck looks like he got another coat of dye in his hair. Dark hair doesn’t go blond very easily, you know.

Enter the Fist! Exit the theatre!

Heat, brought by Footlocker and Honda and the Orange County soundtrack. Let’s take a look at the year that PARTY ON, GARTH enjoyed. At least, that’s what Mitchell said. What we really get is Edge talking about Rob Zombie. Shill that Sinister Urge CD!

“And that’s why we don’t run with scissors. Now be off, my young friend!” It’s MIGHTY MIGHTY MOLLY educating a young WWF staffer on safety during backstage skits. Time for TOSSED to put the sleaze on Molly. Of course, that just brings in THE HURRIKANE to defend his maiden’s honour. “You’ve been rejected more times than Dr. Octopus has arms. Whuzzupwitdat?!” Looks like the match is set. Speaking of set, yowza. She is mighty mighty.

After the break, Mitchell and Tazz shill the Live! Smackdown! Coming up on Thursday, including CHAINZ II versus MR. SHOW for the Hardcore title. Tazz says Deadman Inc. will win.

What th’… it’s THE BROOKLYN BRAWLER. I fecal matter you not. Mitchell calls him a WWF legend. And he’s going up against The Big Show. Aw, come on. Brawler tries the Pearl Harbour Job, but the Irish is reversed into a back elbow. SHOOTING STAR PRESS TO THE FLOOR!!! Hah, hah, made you look again. Chokeslam, (1:34), thanks for playing.

Coming up next, Rhyno!

You know, I’d skewer more commercials, but I’m watching Heat on Sportsnet here in Canada, and I know only a few of you would understand when I say… what’s up with that Hazel Mae? Does she come across to you as a fountain of sports knowledge? I watched a little ESPN during my San Fran trip last week, and I gotta tell ya, it makes our stuff look bush league.

Without further ado, our special guest (hey, Mitchell dropped the “host”) is here, and the fans chant “Go’er! Go’er!” Eh? Know what I mean? Rhyno is wearing a serious jet black leather and touque ensemble. He’s got eight screws in a plate in his neck. Tazz challenges Rhyno as to why he is here, having been dumped by Shane McMahon and all. Rhyno says he’s not going to beg for a job. Why wouldn’t either Flair or McMahon hire him? He’s beaten The Rock and Jericho, The Show and Kane. He says his match with Raven at Backlash was his best match of 2001. And his resolution is to be more intense. That, and learn how to do an interview. Wow, he’s really stiff when he gets up. That must be some serious plate-work underneath that black ensemble.

Here’s how for the WWF has slipped: house show in Vancouver is February 2^nd at the PNE Coliseum, the former home of the Vancouver Canucks. Which suggests to me they are expecting maybe 8,000 to show up. In a city of 2 million.

Back to WWF New York and SHILL that Kid Rock CD. Hey, earlier today, it’s Y2J+1 basking in the sun with his not-quite-unified championship belts. “God Bless Vincent K. McMahon,” he says. Holy crud, it’s windy and the shot is too dark. The camera equipment and palm trees are casting shadows all over Jericho. Not a good piece. Anyway, Jericho is living the high life on vacation, and asks you, the viewer if you had a good year. Did you get a raise to $6 an hour? Did you buy that ’76 Volare? He says his year was better. Because he is better. He’s beaten everybody, including Funaki. No wait, he says he hasn’t beaten the little kid from Tough Enough with the eyebrows. Maybe he should retire and become a plumber, or a baker, or a sewage operator, like all of you. AS IF! Now kiss those belts!

AHA! Speaking of Funaki, it’s THE BIG SHO and CRASH NOLASTNAME tagging up. Except they don’t riff on the EVIL gimmick like I suggested. They simply come out to Crash’s music. They look surly, but not EVIL. In fact, Crash looks surly because he has to tag with Funaki. Or perhaps because they are about to get their asses pounded by ALWAYS POUNDING ASS (and proud of it). Indeed!

Crash has the stick! Tazz says, “That’s ratings!”  Now, the memory cells were churning last week… wasn’t there some heat between these two during an aborted ECW run? Methinks there was.

“Is this some kind of sick joke? My God, what were they thinking today? Who booked this match? This is crazy! (What?!) My God, I mean, this is the holiday season, this is the time for peace, love and joy! I got a family, a wife to think about, so do you (talking to Sho). My God! (WHAT?!?) I mean, I don’t want to go into the New Year’s with this! (What?!) I mean, guys (talking to APA), I mean, let’s, let’s face it… you’re both gonna get your asses BEAT! (WHAT?!?) But I’ll tell ya what, I’ll tell ya what, I’ll tell ya what, I got an idea, I’ll tell ya what. You guys, you guys can go to the back, fish around back there, find some guys, bring out, two, three, I don’t know, five guys, even up the odds, and then we can have a match. How about that?” Farrooq is feigning fear with the nail-biting and all that. “They… they think we’re joking around! Let’s show ‘em! I’ll show you… “ CHARGE! Crash and Sho go right at ‘em. And bounce right off ‘em. Great bit. Gives Crash a raison d’etre again. Funaki, eh. Maybe if they stick with this unit while TAKA is healing. If he ever heals.

Bradshaw is killing Funaki. Irish, duck-under, catch the cross-body attempt, boot to Crash’s face as he tries to interfere, Bradshaw mugs for a moment before the fallaway slam. Bradshaw setting up for a power bomb, but Crash with a top-rope dropkick knocks him down. “Blind” Jim Korderas talks to Farrooq about the time he main evented a PPV against The Barbarian, allowing the double team. Double Irish, but Bradshaw double shouldertackles them to the mat. Crash and Sho scramble to the floor to talk strategy. Spike says he has something and whispers it into Sho’s ear. Funaki in the ring now, so is Farrooq. Sho tags and takes a powder. Now Crash sizes up Farrooq, gets the liver tail and tags Funaki back in. Funaki, with trepidation, prepares to pounce… and tags Crash. Ho ho! And Crash tags Funaki! Now the crowd (canned) is booing. Funaki tags Crash and jumps off the apron. Farrooq is looking at Bradshaw as if to say “DAH-yumn!” and Crash capitalizes with a forearm to the back. Irish, reversed, duck under, chop block to the back of Farrooq’s knee, Funaki follows up with a dropkick to the face! And they stomp away while Korderas is admonishing Bradshaw for getting full life insurance instead of term. Crash off the ropes… SPINEBUSTER by Farrooq turns Crash into a greasy smear. Farrooq drags Crash over to Funaki and offers the arm for a tag. Funaki bails. Instead, Farrooq tosses Crash across the ring and tags in Bradshaw. Double Irish, double shouldertackle to Crash. This match is still on? Tower suplex by Bradshaw, holds him up there for a good seven seconds. Tag to Farrooq, punch to the gut. Irish, flying powerslam. Nasty. Count broken by Sho. They try for a double team move, but Bradshaw takes Sho out of the ring and Farooq puts the Tiger Bite on Crash and pins him (tree-fiffy). Took too long for a squash, but had great coward heelishness from Crash and Funaki.

Next: The Superstud versus the Superhero! Hey, just because he’s from Canada doesn’t automatically make Test a stud, okay? That’s just perpetuating the stereotype. Typical WWF.

He knows what you are! He knows what you fear! It’s Santa Claus! Nooooo! And he knows you have Chapstick!

Why would a dog use Febreeze? Isn’t that, like, the opposite of what dogs do? Or is he simply trying to get rid of those nasty human odours?

My Canadian friends: for a commercial actor, Curtis Joseph sure makes a great goalie. And there’s Hazel again with her “come hither” look. She holds a football like she’s never seen one in her life.

Back to the action, apparently Jazz did something on MTV’s version of the show, because Mitchell and Tazz are talking about her. See, while I had to watch dumb Canadian ads, I missed, what, a Stridex Pop of the Week or something. Tazz says Mitchell looks dumb on TV. Indeed!

Back to the ring, Test is in the house, with his lethal boat.

Stand back! It’s the Dynamic Duo! Oh, and Hurricane, too. They get in the ring and, while, Hurricane poses, Test checks to see what’s under Molly’s cape. Tazz, the gentleman that he is, says Test is checking out the tomato’s rear end. Hurricane with the Hurri-offence. Irish to the corner, reversed, Test charges, back elbow. Hurricane to the top rope already. Cross-body, two count. Hurricane signals for the big boot! Test catches the foot, spins him around, Hurricane goes for the clothesline, ducked, full nelson slam makes Tazz go “OHHHHHH!!” really loud. Test sticks his bum out at Molly. Cheeky monkey! Test brutalizes Hurricane in the corner. Irish to the far corner, big clothesline. Molly looks on in chesty concern. Suplex. Two count from another ref I don’t recognize. Tazz screams “GORE GORE GORE!!!” for no particular reason. He’s just rambling now. Irish, clothesline ducked, Hurri-punches, Test drives the knee to stop that. Slam, off the ropes, flying elbowdrop misses. Hurricane ducks a clothesline, more Hurri-punches, Irish, reversed, flying jalapeno by Hurricane! Off the ropes, cross-body attempt caught by Test, fallaway… nope, Hurricane lands on his feet, small package, two count. Tilt-a-whirl suplex by Test. Two count. Test is ready for the Big Boat… but wait! Look! Up on the turnbuckle! It’s bird! It’s a tomato! It’s… Mighty Molly! Uh-oh, Test saw her. He whacks the top rope so that Molly crotches herself and falls into the ring. Now he’s going to give Molly the Big Boat. Nope, he turned around and gave it to Hurricane. Right in the mush. Now Molly is helpless. Who will save our heroine now? How about WILL WRESTLE FOR FOOD? Savate kick while the ref isn’t looking, and puts Hurricane’s lifeless carcass on top of Test! 1-2-3! (3:18). Rikishi’s jacket says “RW” for some reason. Radish and Wasabi? Roquefort and Wensleydale? Real Wide? Test is pissed!

A quick PPV shill for the Best of 2001 matches, and we out. Happy New Year to my Gregorian calendar-following brothers and sisters. Peace.