by The Immolator
Exclusive to OnlineOnslaught.com

DAG, YO. The Immolator here. How ‘bout those Canucks?

There’s a big hole where last week’s Heat recap is supposed to be. That’s my bad. I watched the show, I captured it as I watched, and I saved it so I could go over the footage. Except it didn’t capture, or I didn’t save it. Something was amiss. I blame Bill Gates. And Johnnie Walker.

So, here’s a quick-and-dirty recap of what went down last week, based partly on my stream of (un)consciousness at the time.

THE BIG VALBOWSKI came out and did his shtick. It’s not working for him as well as it did for Rick Rude. Maybe if they did it after the match instead of before. “The match?” Yes, you read me correctly. LANCE STORM provided the opposition. Michael Cole infers there may be scouts watching the match. Now THAT would have been good. Don’t forget, this is the Sunday before the draft. Val wins with the Money Shot after about five minutes of pretty good stuff.

Backstage, BUH BUH RAY and D-VON DUDLEY say they’re the best, and that Stacey got what she deserved. That’s what them wimmin-beaters all say. They fear being broken up in the draft. Foreshadowing!

After the break, it’s the Dudley’s v. KANE and THE BIG SHOW. Hello? Consistency? Ah, balls. Kane’s pyro still lingers, and it looks like Flyers v. Sabres, 1975 at the Aud. Show creams everything in sight before the Duds get a double back suplex. Bubba hits the Wassup Drop, gets the table, and gets a load of Kane. Bubba saves D-Von and they double suplex Kane through the table. The ref is oblivious to this. Doesn’t matter, because Kane’s amazing recuperative powers allow him to return to the corner in time for the hot tag. Kane and Show win after six minutes with your next Olympic demonstration event, Synchronized Chokeslamming. “Kane and Show win?” Yeppers. Go fig.

GOLDUST and RIKISHI are next on your dance card. Goldust digs the inhale. BONSAI! About what you’d expect in three minutes. No stinkface, because that would rub off his make-up.

And… my hero, MR. PERFECT, finally gets a shot at the I-C title currently held by ROB VAN DAM. If wishes were fishes, every day would be Friday. P gets in his flying mare, RVD hits the Rollin’ T’under. Perfect takes his bumps on his left side almost exclusively. RVD wins after a too-short three minutes with the ***** Frogger.

So, another good Heat. You realize these could have been the first four matches at WrestleMania, don’t you? But you get them on Heat for free, lucky MTV drones.

---------------

That was last week. The nightcap of your twi-night doubleheader comes to you from the FUC. Hey, didn’t the Raptors just beat the 76ers an hour ago IN THIS VERY ARENA? Oh, that’s right, we’re taped. So what? Sing your song!

# WHOAAARRGHHH…

When I wanna runny worm, and I go and get it

When I choose what I wanna be, I come around

When I wanna get it off, I whip it out

Gonna get it off, bit it off. #

PYRO! PYRO! PYRO! We be starting with JAZZ in a non-title match. She will face MOLLY HOLLY. That’s right, she’s no longer mighty mighty. Let’s look earlier today at what she had to say to LILIAN GARCIA.

LG:  “Molly, you’ve been selected for RAW, and The Hurricane has been selected for SmackDown! So I was wondering, what are you planning to do now that you and your superhero partner have been separated?”

MH:  “Well, I had a lot of fun with the Hurricane, but… it’s time to move on. I’m Molly Holly. And… it might be selfish, but it’s time I focus on my own career. So, tonight, I’m gonna show the fans why I’m more than just a sidekick, and show Jazz why I deserve to be the WWF women’s champion.”

Molly needs a wee bit of help in the promo department. But, she does have her own new music and video, with some Diva elements thrown in, too. As long as they don’t make her wrestle in an evening gown. Your hosts are still MICHAEL COLE and TAZZ. Cole says this could be the last Sunday Night Heat as we know it. NO!!! I’m liking the one I know now! DAH-yumn!

Jazz shoves Molly down before the bell. Stomps n’ Chops. Irish whip to the far corner. CHARGE! Molly hoists Jazz up as she is coming in, and Jazz goes head-first into the turnbuckle. Kicks by Molly, Irish, arm wringer reversal, boot to the gut by Jazz. Molly ducks a clothesline and yanks Jazz down by the hair. Cover and a two-count by referee JACK DOAN. Both women roll out of the ring. Holly chops away and runs Jazz into the ringpost. Holly throws Jazz back into the ring and follows. Off the ropes… cross body attempt caught in mid-air by Jazz. Berzerker slam! Two count. Mare by Jazz. Elbow, stomp, field goal kick. Jazz makes like Lennox Lewis. Two count again. Tazz forgets that it’s a non-title match. Delayed-release suplex. Two count. Field goal kick. Molly fights back, but Jazz hits a forearm. Irish… crucifix by Molly into a sunset flip position. Two count only. Jazz loads up with a big clothesline. BIG legdrop. Another two count. The crowd is chanting Molly’s name! In Philly?! Another Berzerker slam in the corner. Jazz goes for the Vader Bomb, but Molly gets the knees up. Small package by Molly… two count. Clothesline by Molly. Back elbow. Molly goes for the legs… eventually, Jazz gets her hands on the top rope. Yoink! Mexican Roll-up for two. Two chops (WOOO!) and an Irish by Molly, reversed, clothesline by Jazz. Irish by Molly, reversed, Jazz hangs on to the ropes while Molly misses a dropkick and lands flat on her back. Jazz cinches in a single leg Boston Crab… and turns it into an STF. Molly taps. (4:08) Now, why would you make it a non-title match and then fail to push your re-Hollified Molly? Strange. Jazz keeps the hold on a little longer for heelish effect.

Later tonite:  Regal v. Tajiri for the Euro! Plus, full draft results! Me, I’m working on my seventh. Quart, that is. End of segment.

Hey, I’ll be at the Nippon Budokan for the All-Japan PPV on 4/13. Say “Hi” if you are there… I’ll be the white guy who isn’t Stan Hansen or Steve Williams. Okay, okay, the secret’s out. I’m white. So is Halle Berry.

On the flipside, we get a “WWF Draft Moment.” Vince picks The Rock. And The Rock chews out Vince in encapsulated form, complete with the word “ass.”

Turn it up! It’s SCOTTY 2 HOTTIE. He’s by his lonesome. No Hip-Hop Hippo, No Zoo Crew, no Captain Carrot. Hey, it’s The New God of Heat, LANCE STORM. This should be good. Except Storm is getting almost no favour from the FUC crowd. How soon they forget.

Collar-and-elbow into a go-behind by Storm. Reversed. Arm wringer by Storm. Somersault and a kip-up by S2H to escape. Arm wringer into a side headlock while the SmackDown! draft list scrolls by. Push of into the ropes, shoulder block by Scotty. Off the ropes, jumps over Storm’s body, off the far ropes, Storm goes for a gut wrench, but S2H hits the flying head scissors. Pillmanesque! CHARGE! Storm moves out of the way and throws Scotty over the top rope… but he skins the cat. Wiggidywiggidy… Storm rushes in with a clothesline, but Scotty ducks, hits a side kick to the gut, and snap mares Storm over. Off the ropes… drop kick to the mush. Two count only. Scotty takes Storm to the corner and kicks him several times. Back elbow by Storm. Storm escorts S2H shoulder-first into the ringpost. Irish, knee to the gut. Legdrop, two count. Front face lock. Storm is looking for some love, but the crowd is unresponsive. Twelve-second suplex by Storm gets a bit of a rise, but only a two count. Sign in the crowd:  “REPO MAN TOOK MY CAR.” Repo! Suave! Chinlock-crossface by Storm. Scotty Scotties up and gets to his feet. He tries to elbow his way out, but Storm gives him a knee to the gut and runs his head into the turnbuckle. Storm with three soupbones and some trash talking in S2H’s face. Scotty firs back, but again, Storm with a knee to the midsection. Irish to the far corner by Storm, reversed. Scotty charges, but eats the boot. Storm charges… into a powerslam by Scotty. Both men are down. The announcers play up Lance Storm as a diamond in the rough. Storm is up at eight. They exchange blows, but Scotty gets the better of it. Irish, back elbow. And a clothesline. Irish, BIG back body drop. Storm is staggering near the ropes… uh-oh. The crowd senses it… Scotty off the ropes… Storm ducks! Boot to the gut! Irish, Storm lowers the head, eats the boot. FACEPLANT OF DOOM! Heeeeeere it comes. Spreadeagle-mouthwideopen-lookbehindyou-jogjogjogjogjogjog… W! O! R! M! WormwormwormHOOHOOHOOHiiiiiYA! Storm rolls out of the ring. Baseball slide dropkick into Storm’s back. Scotty tosses him back in, but Storm drives the shoulder into Scotty’s gut on the apron. He goes for the back suplex into the ring… but Scotty flips over and lands on his feet. Roll-up… Storm kicks out at two. Scotty tries a clothesline… Storm ducks and grabs the legs. Storm goes for the Maple Leaf… Scotty is fighting it… inside cradle! 1… 2… no, Storm kicks out in the nick of time. SUPERKICK! Good night, nurse. (5:37) Nice. Immo’s gonna like SmackDown! if there’s more of this. Oh, wait, I get Vinnie Mac, too. Snap!

Next: Edge v. Goldust! That’s a strange-looking matchup, like something you’d see on WWF Attitude for the N64, with Brood Edge. Blood makes the grass grow! End of segment.

We Sportsnet viewers missed a Brock Lesnar moment, apparently, because Cole talks him up like he’s The New Sid or something. Speaking of Sportsnet… did you see Keith Olbermann on CNN? Sportsnet’s own Hazel Mae and Jody Vance got themselves all tarted up for this magazine spread. He wasn’t impressed, and tore the whole Lisa Guerrero trend a new hole. Me… well, I’ve been told Hazel is a very nice person.

Meanwhile, he’s ready for his close-up, Mr. DeMille… it’s GOLDUST. Tazz and Cole miss his entire entrance talking up Lesnar. And now… jab the pencil under your tongue, it’s EDGE and his epilepsy-inducing strobes of Rob Zombieness. GKPTKHPKTPKGPKHTPKHT!!!! Actually, don’t jab a pencil or anything in there. It’s an old wives’ tale. Tazz calls “Forceable [sic] Entry” a “rocket-buster.”

Goldust gets the early advantage with the punches of pleather. Edge fights back. Irish, reversed, Goldust with an inverted atomic drop. Yes, the cameraman tilted up and down slightly on impact again. CHEATER! Clothesline attempt, Edge ducks and hits the one-man flapjack on the rebound. Irish, reversed by Goldust, he drops down, Edge vaults over, leapfrog by Goldust on the rebound, drops for the reverse monkey flip, but Edge pastes him with a fistdrop instead. Irish… BIG back body drop. The RAW ticker tells us how vastly superior CRZ’s show is going to be. Edge charges… and Goldust, who is by the far ropes, pulls the top rope down and Edge goes flying. Biel throw into the barricade. Many stomps by Goldust, who throws Edge back in. He’s going to the top (!) Flying clothesline! Two count only. Snap mare, drops the forearm across the throat. Two count. Dig the inhale! Goldust reaches over to pick up Edge, but gets a boot to the head (na, na) instead. Edge fights back. Off the ropes… butt block by Goldust. Shades of 1994! Two count. # Goldust rippin’ at your nose… # Irish whip to the far corner, and Edge goes in hard. Again to the other corner. Two count. Goldust is DOMINATING this match. Irish, Goldust ducks the head, gets faceplanted. Spoke too soon. Goldust tries a clothesline, Edge slips behind and hits the weak Neckbreaker That Bugs Immo. Clothesline by Edge. Off the ropes, leg lariat. Two-an-a-half for Edge. Irish, Edge ducks, and Goldust drops to his knees and delivers the uppercut. He’s going for the Curtain Call! But Edge goes all the way over and hits the Edge-O-Matic! One! Two! Th… no! Goldust kicks out! Heat rules! Goldust with a reverse jawbreaker. And a clothesline. Goldust picks up Edge and sets him on the top rope… he’s going up to the second rope… SUPERPLEX! AND the float over. Windhamesque! ONE! TWO! TH…DAMN! I can’t believe I’m cheering for him, either. Goldust is unhappy. He sets up for the Shattered Dreams. A finisher that gets you DQ’ed, sure, why not? He’s taking way too long to kick the field goal. As he charges in, the ref interposes himself betwixt. So Goldust shoves him out of the way. Edge takes advantage… with a kick to the pills! SPEAR! The ref comes to and counts the pinfall. (5:30) Much better than last week’s tilt against Rikishi. Five minutes isn’t a lot to tell a story in the ring, but it’s way better than three.

Still to come… Regal and Tajiri... but next! TE2! A chance to see Ivory! Whoo-HOO! End of segment.

I remember thinking Goldust was the lamest gimmick ever made. Okay, next to Doink. But that was when it debuted. I was still a big WCW fan, and Hogan had yet to ruin things over there with his pre-nWo run. I liked the tag team of “The Natural” and Barry Windham. Seeing him go from that to ssssssssssGOLdust didn’t do it for me. But it grew on me. So did Doink, for that matter. But only when he was EVIL!

MARvelous! Another “WWF Draft Moment.” The Dudleys get spilt up. Perhaps the greatest tag team in the history of sports entertainment. Except, as we saw already, Kane and Show are better. Mongo only pawn in game of life.

Meanwhile, on TE2, the Dudleys, as did Llyod Price, tell the troops you gotta have Personality. Danny gets cut because he’s too vanilla to cut a good promo. He’s gonna cry. Alicia (I think) goes home, too. Danny’s really choked up. Tazz tells him (on Heat) to hit the bricks.

Next: a look back at… The Kane-anites?! And that’s the End of segment? Whatever.

Another thing I gotta tell ya… I watch way less TV than I used to. I mean, I saw every episode of “Sledge Hammer” during its first run. Now I can’t be bothered to punch it up on one of the dozen or so re-run channels on my satellite. Now, if “Police Squad!” were on… then I’d take the time. The point being… I ain’t watchin’ TE2. I’m a big Al Snow fan, but no dice. So if I get some of the names mixed up, I apologise. Same goes for the occasional typo you see in my columns. I have to get to bed by 8 p.m., for crying out loud.

Oh, goody, another “WWF Draft Moment.” Flair picks Undie, who then has a petulant frenzy (0.2 CHRISTIAN). Then we get Kane’s promo from SmackDown! BROTHER! Oh, and clips from the 6-man schmozz, with extra focus on Kane.

Next: Regal v. Tajiri! What, that was the segment? Sheesh.

We’re back! Did you miss us? Heeeere’s TAJIRI (w/ TORRIE WILSON). She’s wearing the same outfit she had on SmackDown! Minus the waist chain. Sumptuous. Backlash is presented by Castrol GTX, live! from Kansas City.

WILLIAM REGAL (w/ridiculously EVIL! music) makes his way to the ring. Let’s look back at last Thursday. The APA puts a table on top of Regal and close up shop. Brings a tear t’ me eye.

Like my counterpart Roger Mellie says, bollocks! Regal with the arm wringer, Tajiri reverses. Regal tries to somersault his way out, but Tajiri holds on. Kip up by Regal (!) and a reversal. Handspring by Tajiri, and he whip the arm so Regal goes flying onto his posterior. Torrie has got a G-string tan line showing just above her low-cut pants. Regal with  a go-behind, ducks when Tajiri spins around, and takes a leg. Then he steps on the arm and switches to a wristlock. The crowd chants, “REGAL SUCKS!” Tajiri with a reversal into a side headlock.

MC:  “I’m still trying to figure out what Torrie sees in Tajiri. No offence, but…”

T:  “Well, why do you think he wears those baggy pants, Cole? C’mon, figure it out!”

MC:  “What, his control is bad?”

T:  “NO! Because he’s got BIG BLOODY… big quads!”

Nyuk nyuk. Regal pushes out of the side headlock and drops down. Tajiri hops over Regal’s prostrate body, then nimbly hops back. Regal gets up, expecting to see Tajiri in front of him, but he’s behind, see? Ho HO! KICK IN THE ASS! Tajiri mocks Regal clutching at his buttocks. His own, that is. Point kick to the quad. Irish, arm wringer reversal, side headlock by Regal. Push off by Tajiri, Regal rebounds with a shoulder block. Off the far ropes, Tajiri drops down. Tajiri leapfrogs and sets up for the reverse monkey flip… but Regal puts on the brakes. Tajiri’s a sitting duck, so he makes himself as small as possible by putting his knees up to his chest and crossing his ankles. Yes, you read me right. Ancient fighting position! What, you’ve never read Miyamoto Musashi? Anyway, Tajiri holds up his right arm as if to plead for his life. Regal takes the arm… SUCKER! Tajiri pushes him off with the legs to the shoulder. Tajiri kicks at Regal. Irish, arm wringer reversal and a knee to the gut by Regal. Knee drive to the head. Regal waves to the nice people while Cole says Stone Cold Steve Austin is rumoured to be on RAW Monday. Legdrop to the back of Tajiri’s neck. A nice variation of the yeoman hold by Regal. Tajiri slides to the ropes. Regal stomps away while a small section of the crowd chants for Torrie. I think she has a gold-coloured G-string to match that tan line. Tajiri fights back with the lightning kicks and punches, but Regal uses a drop toe hold to avoid further punishment, and drives several forearms into the back of the neck. This is a clinic, folks.

T:  “Aw, Regal’s meaner than a pet ‘coon! What the hell?!”

I think one of the writers fed Tazz a line, and he misunderstood the meaning. FNAR! Suplex and a two count. Into the corner, Regal with the Irish across the ring… CHARGE! But Tajiri gets the foot up in Regal’s face. Tajiri moves toward Regal, but eats a forearm. Regal tries for a back suplex, but Tajiri flips all the way over. Irish by Tajiri into the corner… reversed by Regal, who runs right into… yup, the TARANTULA! Referee TIM WHITE puts on the count, and Cole says the move isn’t legal yet (what, they’re going to make it legal?). He breaks the hold. Spinning back kick to the gut, yee-owtch. OCTUPUS! Tazz calls the move “very unique.” Into a small package… two count only. Spinning back kick to the head! Two count. Chop (WOOO!) and an Irish, reversed by Regal… HEAVY METAL ELBOW! Tajiri gives the thumb across the throat signal while Regal backs into the corner. Roundhouse kick to the ribs. Irish to the far corner… Tajiri goes for a monkey flip, but Regal shoves him off. TIGER BOMB! One… Two… Three? (4:27) No knuckle dusters? Not even a Regal Stretch? Hmmm… still, awesome match for TV.

Heat is sweet! I wonder what changes are in store for the show under the “brand extension.” Tune in next week to find out. Maybe The Immolator will even still be here to fill you in. Or maybe you’ll get someone new. If you’re lucky.

EF:  “Could you pwease tell me what season it is?”

BB:  “Certainly, my boy! It’s baseball season!”

Peace.

E-MAIL THE IMMOLATOR
BROWSE THE HEAT RECAP ARCHIVES

The Immolator, in his other so-called life, has to drag his bad self out of
bed at 3:30 in the morning to work the IT desk at CKNW, your Vancouver
Canucks station.

All contents are Copyright 1995-2014 by OOWrestling.com.  All rights reserved.
This website is not affiliated with WWE or any other professional wrestling organization.  Privacy Statement.