Dag, yo. It’s time for your weekly dose of Heat, or, as we like to call it around here, “The Chuck and Billy Show” He’s Chuck, and he’s Billy, and together… they’re Chuck and Billy.

My giant sack is empty again today. Alas. So, instead of witty banter and repartee with my readers, I’ll muse briefly about a woman who has just sashayed her way into my part of town. Let’s call her “Los Angeles.” She and I have similar tastes and backgrounds, and I gotta tell ya, if things don’t work out with the Missus… ah, there goes Immy again, off into Fantasyland. Still, I’ve got my protein shake at the ready, just in case. More on that later.

We’re live! at WWF Times Square in the core of the Big Apple. Your hosts are KOLE and RAZZMA TAZZ. Outside, a big black limo pulls up in the New York twilight, and out pops your special “guest host” LEGGS, who apparently will dance for us tonight. Stacey’s all hairspray and camouflage, but, thankfully, no fake appendages.

Speaking of which, let’s get right to the ring for the SNH return of THE CODFATHER (w/ five human pipe cleaners). Tazz says “One tomato, two tomato, three tomato, four.” Now, like the old saying goes, running a legitimate escort business ain’t easy. Obviously not, because the quality (and the scantily-cladness) of Godfather’s entourage has come down since the days of The Ho Train. BTW, his entrance music has been stripped of those very words. Later tonight, yes, it’s Chuck and Billy, plus Christian defends the Euro, and Stacey dances. Betcha they’ll find some way to ruin it.

Time for Calgary’s favourite currently-active export, and I don’t mean Todd McFarlane. It’s SHAPE OF AN ICE STORM. Let’s take you back to RAW to show you why Godfather is going to squash Lance today. Ring that bell! Lance jumps the Godfather early. Today’s GF ensemble features a singlet, black leather pants and a whole lotta Papa Shango’s tattoos. GF starts going to town on Lance, and the commentators start talking about the RR. Lance gets Irish whipped across the corner, but bails out of the ring before the Rub-and-a-Tug Train can connect. Lance whips GF into the steel steps, yay, never seen that before. Back in the ring, top rope flying clothesline (suh-weet) gets a two count for Storm. He goes for a shouldertackle in the corner, but connects with the ringpost instead. Look out! ChuggachuggachuggachuggaWOOWOO! RUB AND A TUG! And that’s not all, GF has the gutwrench into the backbreaker…and… yup, he busts out Papa Shango’s old finisher, the shoulderbreaker. What a lame finisher. Let’s call it “The Hand Release.” (1:57). More squash than your Green Grocer.

Back at WWF New York, Cole tells us DDP is one the menu, plus Chuck and Billy and, allegedly, Stacey will dance for us. Let’s have a montage/shill of Lita’s video before we leave. She was really hot in red, by the way. But she was hotter when she had Tammy bent over and Dawn Marie had the paddle and… never mind. End of Segment.

I think I enjoyed last week’s pre-Rumble shillfest more than this.

When we come back, Cole and Tazz tell us about how of PRIAPIC VAL made his return at the Rumble. With that, it’s back to the ring. Hello, Ladies. Val is sporting some huge lats, I must say. In fact, Val, HHH and Perfect all look like they’ve been doing some serious back work in the gym. Perfect I’m especially pleased with, seeing as he’s already 42 (!). That’s the kind of inspiration that will help me choke down these vile protein shakes and get my lame ass back in the gym, because I want to look as good as Mr. P. ten years from now. Or sooner, preferably.

Let’s see if Val benefits from the Canned Heat on Heat. Hang on, I’m hearing that harmonica riff in my head. I need to hit Morpheus and steal myself that song.

Okay, now I can transcribe again. Tazz is joking about Cole’s Vanilla Ice haircut and frost job, by the way. He says it’s from 1986, but that pre-dates Ice Ice Baby. Hair was even bigger back then. Think Glass Tiger. On second thought, don’t.

VV:  “Hello, ladies.” [shriek] Yup, a little canned response goes a long way.

T:  “I love that line. That's good stuff.”

VV:  “You know something? It's quite fitting that The Big Valbowski is on MTV tonight. You see, once I get Unplugged and undressed, I'll fill your Total Request Live for 120 Minutes.”

T:  “You get that, Cole? Those are TV shows here on MTV. I know you're not up on that.”

VV:  “Now, tonight… tonight some lucky lady's dream is about to come true. And if you don't know what that means, you're about to find out. You see, The Big Valbowski, has a gift. A HUGE gift. The only question is, which one of you lucky ladies here tonight is going to get to… come… into this ring… and unwrap it. Let's take a look over here…”

T:  “He's scoping out the talent, Cole.”

MC:  “I'd like to be Val for a night.”

So, Val conveniently picks a woman standing right next to a security guard at the Big Black Barricade (BBB herein). And, DAH-yumn, she’s skinnier than Calista Flockhart and Iggy Pop’s love child. Anyway, they do the Rude Awakening thing again, this time with some generic porn music to help cover the silence, and… that’s it? No match? Aw, snap. At least we got this line out of Tazz:

T:  “I use a towel, too, but I wear it on my head.”

Even better, Stacey is dancing up on the marquee at WWF New York, and I think I just saw some cheek. Oh, yeah. It feels good. Ooooooooooh… sorry, Immo had a Vinnie Mac moment there. Val has your towel ready. End of segment.

Same old commercials. Plus one for Viagra, for all you poor sods who can’t get it up.

Back in NY, video streaming of the RR is still being shilled on wwf.com. Let’s take another look at MAineVENt as Taker introduces him to the Joy of Popcorn. Cole is pushing the “never officially eliminated” angle as a good reason for Maven to have title shot against Jericho, but mostly, they are saying that Jericho is pulling the old “declare a ham-and-egger a worthy challenger” shtick. I can buy that, I guess. But that spot should go to Funaki, darn it!

More Stacey on the marquee. I see you, baby. Shakin’ that ass. Shakin’ that ass. End of segment. Yeah, I’ve got an end of segment for ya… and more where that came from. Oh, sorry. Another Vinnie Mac moment.

Are vodka coolers any more acceptable now than… oh, 1986? Methinks not.

Back in Times Square, boy, it got dark fast. Heat, brought to you by Stacker 2, Twix and Slim Jim. Throw all that together in a blender, and you can look like HHH, too. Don’t forget the secret ingredient, though… yes, that’s right: love.

Big Show and Kane collide on RAW! Jericho/Maven and Austin/Angle! Plus, Stephanie and her Amazing Dancing Bazoomas!

Riffs in the style of Night Ranger, 1-2-3-4… it’s THE ASS KING and CHUCK CHUCK BO-BUCK. Chucky is a dancin’ fool. Gunn… well, that would be too easy. It would also be wrong. Fool would have been to insist on a singles push. Let’s take you back to RAW and watch them destroy Kane and Show. See? Who’s Dumber Now?

And their opponents, weighing a combined 412 pounds (yeah, and I’m Haystacks Calhoun), THE BIG SHO and LECTRONIMO. Can’t we put Tajiri and Saturn in and make it a six-man? Oh, yeah, Tajiri is in Asia somewhere. I’d like to be in Asia… cripes, another VM attack. Sorry. Can you tell I haven’t seen the Missus in a while?

Sho’s got the frosty look. Tazz says Crash is “shot.” Hmmm… Chuck and Crash start. Crash with a go-behind, Chucky tosses him away like a used… um, anyway, Cole and Tazz are already talking about the nWo instead. Funaki sneaks in with a cross body. Gunn tags in. This sucks. Gunn with that lousy flapjack-type move. Heel tag-team violence. Chucky’s in now. Stompin’ away at Sho in the corner. Discus punch. Tag to Billy. A couple of two counts. Cole and Tazz still talking about RAW. Back to Chucky. Big suplex, cover… Chuck pulls him up after two! He’s a heel! Now he sets up Sho in the corner… misses! Hot tag on both sides! Can Crash overcome the odds? Nope. After some forearms, a dropkick and an enzuigiri, Crash covers… Chucky tries to break it up, but elbowdrops Billy instead. Now Crash goes for the big bulldog, but he ends up on the wrong end of a Fameasser instead. (5:01). Crash and Sho usually get more offence in than that. Very disappointing. Not that I was expecting the Hell Raiders, mind you. Strangely enough, they don’t punk out Crash after the match.

Here’s Stacey walking down the stairs! Humminahumminahummina… end of segment.

Did Tron achieve cult status while I wasn’t looking? Or will they put just about anything on a DVD nowadays? The only thing good about Tron was the video game. I loved shooting up all those spider thingies. Could never get the CPU past the second level, though.

All right, back in the centre of the universe (Dundas and Bloor?), let’s look again at the montage of the feud that has spawned VINNIE MAC v. THE DE-NATURED BOY. I guess the black-and-white footage is supposed to invoke memories of Sammartino v. Koloff or something. Let’s also look at VM and his nWo soliloquy. I’m sure we’ve all figured out by now his chair actually says “oWn” instead, thus paving the way for the return of the Ultimate Warrior. Of course, cRz beat me to it, and I will gladly defer. But did anyone really not realize he was talking to a mirror from the get-go?

Oops, somebody cut to the wrong VTR. Stacey’s legs are all cued up and ready to go, but we quickly cut to the chyron for our next match: Christian and DDP. Then we go back to Stacey. And she says:

SK:  “If they think those dances were hot, they ain't seen nothing yet.” Huh? Oh, you mean on the marquee. I thought you meant when you were Miss Hancock. She rubs herself for full effect. Her midriff, you pervies, just her midriff. Now it’s you having the VM moment. End of segment.

I’m never eating an Easter Creme Egg, never. Ewwwwww… on the dog again.

All right, let’s wrap this up, I’m carb-depleted. Back at WWF NY, they talk more about RAW.

Christian! Christian! Il mondo! Il mondo! It’s PARTY ON, WAYNE, and it’s a non-title match, meaning he’s JOBBIN’ today! His opponent: It’s he, it’s he, it’s CUBIC ZIRCONIUM DALLAS PAGE. Speaking of old, this guy’s 46 and he looks like a million bucks. Amazing what some time off-camera will do for you. A bang and a smile. Looks like he’s morphing his two gimmicks together.

No Way Out sold out in three hours, apparently. And RAW comes to you from Lost Wages next next week. Speaking of which…

T:  “They call that joint, Las Vegas, they call that Sin City, right?”

MC:  “ Yeah.”

T:  “Why?”

MC:  “Uh… use your imagination.”

T:  “People sin over there, right? Because they gamble and mess around and cheat on their husbands and wives and screw around with people, right?”

MC:  “Yeah.”

T:  “I just wanna know. Sin City. Love that.”

Okay, let’s wrestle. Collar-and-elbow, Page pushes Christian into the corner, Christian with the eye gouge as the Modular Heat Ref tries to break it up. Christian with kicks and stomps, and then turns to the crowd with a priceless goofy look on his face as if to imitate DDP. Page doesn’t think that’s a good thing. He grabs Christian by the hair and throws him into the corner for some punches, chops and stomps of his own. Bang and a smile! Christian charges with a clothesline, Page ducks and delivers one of his own. Irish, tilt-a-whirl into a side slam. Not bad. Two count. Page clotheslines him over the top rope. Big smile! Christian grabs the legs and tries to pull him outside, but gets shoved into the BBB instead. Page drives Christian’s head into the BBB and tosses him back in the ring. Sign of the Cutter… but Christian grabs the top rope… and his head is pulled clean off his body! Man, blood is gushing everywhere! Nah, just kidding. Our hosts are talking about RAW instead, as usual. Christian charges across the ring and plows into DDP, who tumbles from the apron headfirst into the BBB. Irish into the steps, yay, never seen that before. FINISH HIM SO WE CAN WATCH STACEY DANCE! Back in the ring, heel violence leads to Christian posing, at which point DDP punches him in his exposed gut. But Christian with a boot to the gut and THE ABDOMINABUBBLE STRETCH! Who the hell uses that anymore? Before Christian gets a chance to use the ropes for leverage, DDP escapes with some back elbows. He goes for a clothesline but Christian turns it into a slop drop knee to the back. Two count! Another two count. Now Christian is throwing a major hissy fit, like he’s Britney and Pink has just walked into the room. Can’t those two just get along? After that egregious display, he mounts the turnbuckle to rain punches down upon DDP’s noggin. Pushed off, but he gets back up for some more punches not in bunches. Shoved off again. Goes for another mount, and runs right into a DDP clothesline. Both men down. While the ref counts, Tazz does his impersonation of a ‘70s wrestling announcer, complete with nasal “generic white guy” voice, so convincing that the closed captioning people thought it was Cole speaking.

T:  “ ‘Both men are down on the canvas, who’s gonna to get up first?’ That’s my old-time wrestling announcer voice, you like that? ‘Both men are down, DDP is down, Christian is down…’ Come on, jump in.”

MC:  “Which man will make it to his feet first…”

T:  “THAT’S the line!”

DDP’s up first, but Christian gets in a knee to the gut, punch is blocked, DDP punches back, goes for a discus punch, ducked, SLOP DROP! One, two, tow-and-a-half! Christian goes for a body slam, but DDP slips behind, goes for the Cutter… nope, shoved to the ropes. He bounces off, Christian with the clothesline attempt, duck under… CUBIC ZIRCONIUM CUTTER! (4:48). Tazz enjoys saying “BANG!” and DDP is up in the crowd to do his old gimmick. “I’m back!” Good little match.

Back at WWF NY, they shill RAW, it’s gonna be a rocket buster. Just in time, here’s Stacey. “Tomato time,” quoth Tazz.

SK:  “I'm really sorry for interrupting the show. Actually, I'm not. So, hit… my music.”

Here she goes! She’s shakin’ it, and it looks like she’s inviting people from the crowd to join her… but that’s all, show’s over, after 29 SECONDS! What a gyp! I think she spent more time on the marquee during commercial throws!

Eh, it was better when she was Miss Hancock, anyway. The power suit with the short skirt, the glasses… yowza.

So, that was your Heat, not as good as previous weeks. They’re trying to regain the popularity that Shango… er, Godfather, sorry, and Val Venis had before they joined the RTC. That’s going to be a tough task, especially with the garden-variety female talent they’re using. I don’t see why they broke up the RTC in the first place. It was a great gimmick. I still love snooping around wwf.com to see what vestiges of the RTC remain. Last I looked, wwfsuperstars.com still had The Goodfather’s page.

Anyway, that’s all for now. Enjoy yourselves. Get Ur freak on. BBC Peace.