sucks tonight, maybe I'll be just loopy enough to make this interesting. And odds are? RAW will suck.

Opening video package: Vince McMahon narrates some self-important video package about Memorial Day, with video clips of soldiers and 9/11 and flags. I know they're going for "meaningful," but it somehow seems kind of tasteless and clichéd. From WWE? Yeah, I'm shocked, too.

Opening theme/credits/pyro: Live from Calgary, Alberta

I get to recap a show from Bizarro World? Awesome. J.R. announces the lineup for tonight: the Highlight Reel will feature Kane and Lita, and Chris Benoit will face Edge in a tables match later tonight.

"Houston, We DON'T Have a Heel Turn" Theatre

Jerry Lawler is already in the ring, here to kick off the "unofficial start of summer" with a swimsuit competition. Oh, for fuck's sake. Christy comes out first, followed by Boobies McTitsalot and Maria the Mic Stand. All of the ladies are in high heels and towels, and I get a laugh when JR says that Candace will be around for a long time. I think he meant the non-biodegradable parts.

Then Victoria makes and entrance, and I die a little inside. And making her first swimsuit competition appearance: Lillian Garcia, who has the best entrance music of any of the ladies (sorry, Rick, but I don't like "Walk Idiot Walk" too much.) I assume Lillian sings her own theme song, which gives her an edge over three of the four other women in this ring: she actually has a talent, and the tune kinda rocks, even though her voice really doesn't work for it.

Before Lillian can drop her towel, we get a (welcome? Unwelcome? Can this segment possibly get better and worse at the same time?) interruption: Big Vis decides to make an appearance. Fuck this shit. I'm getting a beer. I know I said that RAW would suck, but is this evidence that I'm some kind of clairvoyant? Anyway, Vis takes the mic and does some ridiculous "Ladies Man" talk and carries Lillian off in his arms. Viscera, I know Leon Phelps, and you are no Leon Phelps.

The crowd isn't happy about that, but the girls show their incredible bravery in the face of adversity and "The Show Must Go On!" mentality takes over, so they all strip and dance like idiots to help us forget that Lillian just got carried out of the place against her will by an overly-sexed giant who could squash her flat even if he wasn't trying. God, I love this country.

Lawler declares Christy the winner, and she celebrates with the other Diva Search rejects while Victoria turns to leave. She stops halfway through the ring ropes, though, and finally catches up to me and the rest of the intelligent viewing audience by getting a disgusted look on her face. She runs back in the ring and starts beating the shit out anything and everything that moves.

Hell yeah! I'm living vicariously through Victoria right now. King tries to pull her off, but she gives him the stiffest, greatest kick in the nuts ever given in the history of wrestling, and it fucking rules. She beats up Christy some more and gives her a more-vicious-looking-than-usual Widow's peak, then turns to leave.

One slight problem here, though: the crowd doesn't seem to realize that this is a heel turn. Remember back at Wrestlemania X-7 when Austin beat the shit out of the Rock and sided with Vince McMahon, the most evil man in wrestling history, and none of it mattered because the crowd was going completely batshit crazy? That's what this is like, only on a smaller scale. I can almost hear the wheels turning in the minds of the fans: "Okay, Christy's a hot chick in a bikini. Victoria is a hot chick in a bikini who can kick your ass." Who would you cheer for? But I'm cool with it, because in a world with no law, I would have done the exact same thing as Vickie.

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Moments ago: Victoria forever earned my love and respect.

Backstage: Victoria interrupts Todd Grisham's attempt to interview her and goes off on a rant about Christy: the Playboy cover, the Wrestlemania match, the Diva Search... Victoria thinks it should have been her to enjoy all those accolades. Way to go, honey. Aim low. Not only does WWE not understand that a hot chick who kicks ass is by default a babyface, they also can't comprehend that two women can hate each other for reasons other than jealousy. And you know what kills me? Victoria is pretty much better than Christy in every way, yet Christy will end up winning in their feud. God. It's like watching Bo's second-place finish on American Idol all over again. You know it's going to happen, but you still have this tiny smidge of hope that everything will end up as it should be.

Hurricane & Rosey (w/ Stacy Kiebler) v. The Heartthrobs (World Tag Title Match)

This is the second time I've seen The Heartthrobs make their entrance, so the "What the Fuck?" factor is gone for me. Instead, I enjoy with a certain kind of glee. I mean, think about it: for me personally, the best kind of heel is a representation of what I hate the most. And since you've heard me rant about Randy Orton before, you know that I hate the metrosexual clubbing type of guy. Therefore, the Heartthrobs are perfect heels. And they're just so amazingly into their schtick (if the flat-ironed and highlighted hair is any indication) and so obviously having a good time that I can't help but smile a little bit. They have a rehearsed little dance in which they strip off their hats, pink feather boas, and pants, and it's just beautiful. I kind of love these guys, and the only thing that could make them better would be if their theme music was "This is How We Do It" by Montell Jordan. Everyone would be dancing.

Apparently, the Heartthrobs won a match on Heat to earn this title shot. Hurricane gets double-teamed to start, but quickly makes it one-on one. Okay, you know what? I have a new rule here: if the match isn't good or important, I'm not doing a blow-by-blow recap of it. I'll give you an idea of the gist of it, but do any of you really exactly what moves were performed by whom and in what order and all that for this match? Even if you did, you probably stopped reading this recap at least six paragraphs ago.

Hurricane plays the babyface-in-peril for a few minutes (and is that really so different from me saying, "Punches to Hurricane. Hurricane takes a vertical suplex. Boots to Hurricane"?), and the crowd takes this opportunity to chant "Stacy's Hot!" God, I love that, and I'm being completely serious here. This crowd is here to have a good time, so they're latching onto the only interesting thing about this match (Stacy) and chanting about it, rather than sitting on their hands or going for the traditional "Bo-ring!" They're all enjoying themselves, which is cool to see.

Hurricane finally fights out and gets the hot tag to Rosey. The fat man cleans house and generally moves well for someone his size. I like Rosey for the same reason I like this crowd: everything happening around him is stupid, but he's still making the best of it. Hurricane and Rosey hit their finishing maneuver (what the hell is that thing called, anyway?), and that's good for a quick three-count.

Winners: Hurricane & Rosey

Backstage: Batista is WALKING! and looking pretty unhappy. His forehead is bandaged up from last week's assault.

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Useless crap: More promotion for this year's Diva Search. I've already stopped watching Smackdown!; is WWE trying to get me to do the same for RAW? Maybe the Diva Search can get traded in the Draft Lottery.

Video Package: Last week's horribly rushed and misguided Batista/Flair/Triple H saga. That really did piss me off, because I got some genuine warm fuzzies when Flair and Batista hugged at the end of that match. Wouldn't waiting a month or so have provided a hell of a lot more emotional impact when Flair finally turned on Big Dave? I'd have felt like I'd been punched in the stomach, rather than just the deep annoyance I was left with.

Backstage: Batista is in Bischoff's office, and is unhappy with the answer to an unspoken question: Triple H will not be here tonight, as his interview with J.R. will be done via satellite from Connecticut. Batista tells Bischoff to tell Trips that he accepts the Hell in a Cell challenge, and that he wants Triple H's guarantee next week, in writing, that the match will happen. I roll my eyes so hard I lose a contact lens. I grew to love Dave through his total defiance of any convention in sports entertainment: he acted normal and cool. Now he's demanding the oh-so-trite contract signing segment? Bad form, dude.

Bischoff says it's a done deal, and they will have the contract signing next week. Just then, Hassan and Daivari decide to barge in. Hassan: "What's Triple H done to deserve a title match?" From your mouth to Allah's ears, Muhammad. He goes on to say that he's undefeated (which is NOT true, as he lost to Benoit via DQ. I know. I recapped it), and starts to rant about racism before Batista steps in. That shuts up ol' Muhammad pretty good, and Bischoff makes a match at Batista's request. Hassan goes to leave, but Daivari, being an idiot, decides to rant in Batista's face in Farsi. Big Dave simply smirks and bitch-slaps Daivari into silence. HA! Wrestling needs more moments like that: shut the fuck up and fight already.

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Last week: Jericho left Shelton Benjamin hanging out to dry, and was kind of a dick about it.

Shelton Benjamin v. Sylvan Grenier v. Robert Conway (Triple Threat Match, Intercontinental Title)

Benjamin is double-teamed to start, but fights out with a samoan drop. Shelton eats a clothesline and some boots from Conway, and Les Quebecois take turns beating up on Shelton, trying to one-up each other without ever really being on the same page. The crowd, being very smart, starts chanting "Y2J!" and WWE should really, really listen to them. I'm not just taking it as their plea for Jericho to make the save in this particular match. No, I'm taking that chant to mean that Jericho is the savior of this God-forsaken company. The booking committee collectively represents Judas, those bastards.

Benjamin finally fires up and tosses Grenier, and gets a nifty-looking neckbreaker on Conway for two. Shelton gets double-teamed for two, but Grenier yanks Conway off of Shelton. Robert and Sylvan start fighting it out, and it's not exactly Michaels v. Jannetty. Hell, it's not even Matt v. Jeff, and if I remember correctly, that match sucked balls. Conway wins the slugfest, but gets clotheslined out by Shelton.

Back in, Shelton gets a top-rope lariat on Conway for two, but Grenier breaks that up. Reverse neckbreaker on Shelton for two, broken up by Conway this time. The Frenchies fight it out some more and nobody cares because Shelton isn't a part of it. He comes back in and hits a Stinger Splash on both men, and a spinning heel kick and T-bone suplex on Conway for the three-count.

Winner (and still IC champ): Shelton Benjamin

Up Next: Kane and Lita on the Highlight Reel.

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Chris Jericho's Highlight Reel: Now With 100% More Douchebaggery!

The crowd predictably goes nuts for Jericho, but I have to take issue with what he's wearing: women's jeans, a "fashionable" t-shirt, a blazer, and some expensive-looking sunglasses. In other words, he's dressed like Ryan Seacrest. If this is all fitting in with Jericho turning into a heel, then it totally works, because he looks like the tooliest tool who ever tooled. If not, I'm extremely disappointed in Y2J's fashion sense. It's not hard, guys: you want to look casual but put-together and fashionable (in the heterosexual sense)? Wear well-fitting-but-not-tight dark blue jeans and a button-down dress shirt that is not pink or floral. Of course, I say this while wearing a tank top and pajama pants, so what do I know?

Jericho starts off by apologizing for almost being late again this week. See, he had an autograph signing earlier, and so many people showed up that it almost kept him from making it to the arena. He half-assedly apologizes to the people he didn't get to in a really smarmy and heelish way, and in general acts like he's king of the fucking mountain. It's highly annoying and highly effective in what he's trying to get across, and in any other country in the world he'd probably be getting booed by the end of this bit.

He brings up the Draft Lottery, which begins next week, and says that he will interview the first lottery pick from Smackdown! on his show. But that's next week, so let's get on with the guests. His first guest has no soul, enjoys inflicting pain on others, and is a monster (Lawler: "Lita")... "but we'll get to Lita in a second." Heh. Lawler, for once, was right on top of things.

Kane is introduced, and kinda forlornly shuffles his way down the ramp, looking like a disappointed little kid. Jericho goes into full-on Dick Mode here, asking personal questions right off the bat and rambling into a "You havin' trouble in the sack there, big boy?" riff. Kane ain't talking. "Why don't I buy you a box of Kleenex, a carton of Haagen-Dazs, take you down to Blockbuster video and rent Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, go home, and have a really good cry?" Hahaha! Okay, that was funny, if assholish. Also, "Haagen-Dazs" is in my spell-checker.

Kane looks like he might kill Jericho, but Edge interrupts via the Titan Tron. He gloats over spearing Kane last week, and then asks how it feels to know that he's been "spearing Lita." Ouch. Edge lays it all on the line: he doesn't feel bad for what he did. When Lita made "emergency calls" to her sister and when she needed "an extra day of rehab" on her knee, she was really calling and seeing Edge.

I would just like to take a moment to say that this is making me physically sick.

Lita steps on-camera and announces that she's officially filed for divorce. She calls him sweaty and disgusting, and a fourth-grader in the bedroom. If Trish were doing this, I'd probably love it, but just NO. Ugh. Lita shows off her wedding ring and gets the camera to follow her and Edge into the bathroom. She fakes being emotional for a moment, and then happily flushes the ring down the toilet.

If there was ever a visual I didn't need, it would be Edge and Lita making out with a flushing toilet in the background. Instead of going insane, Kane just kind of breaks down and does that whole "Trying not to cry in TV in front of millions of people" thing, because he's a real man, dammit. And you know what? It's fucking awesome. This whole storyline is crap, but I don't care, because Glen Jacobs can take anything and turn it into Emmy-worthy material because he completely throws himself into and goes for broke. That's the only way to play material like this, and just like his breakdown last week, it's so over-the-top that it rules. I love you, Kane.

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Eric Bischoff joins J.R. and King at the announce table, microphone in hand. He addresses the ECW pay-per-view, again mentioning that he'll be showing up with a group of volunteers to ruin the event. He says that the only reason he approved this next match was to prove that RAW can "out-ECW ECW." The fuck? Does that make sense to anyone? "The garbage wrestling that ECW made famous is worthless, so I'll prove that my show can do it better and thus be more worthless!" Well, the last part kinda makes sense, given RAW's general direction recently, but still. Apparently, Edge will be one of Bischoff's volunteers at the PPV.

Edge (w/ Lita) v. Chris Benoit (Tables Match)

Every time I see Edge and Lita getting all chummy and disgusting, I get this mental picture of Lita ripping out Matt's heart and stomping on it, then setting it on fire and doing a little dance around it under the full moon. Seriously, this is pathetic. I try not to let backstage bullshit get in the way of my commentary, but when WWE actually makes a point of flaunting it in front of everybody, what the fuck else am I supposed to say? I'd rather watch Maria the Mic Stand try to debate foreign policy with Mick Foley than be force-fed this ugly display.

And the problem is, it doesn't make me hate Edge and Lita as heels in the context of the show (or love them as heels, because I loves me some bad guys. Just ask Al Swearengen.) It just makes me hate them so much that I want to change the channel, and they're lucky I'm forced to recap this crap, because otherwise I wouldn't even watch. Not even for my beloved Benoit. If Edge had stayed solo and Lita were still hanging around with Kane, I'd have forgotten about all this in a few months. Thanks, WWE, for ruining an awesome performer for me.

But then Benoit shows up and gets a huge ovation, and I forget my bitterness, if only for a moment.

Lockup to start, which Edge wins, but Benoit fights out with some chops. You know, I bet that's a good way to wake up in the morning. Do you think that ever happens on the road?

"Morning, Edge. What's up?" 
"Hey, Chris. Long night, man. I'm really dragging. Can you help me out?" 
"My pleasure." *THWACK* 
"Auuuuggggghhhhhhh! Thanks, dude."

They fight it out for a few minutes as the crowd chants for tables, and Edge sells Benoit's chops like death. Snap suplex on Edge, followed by more chops. Edge gains control and goes for a table, but Benoit interrupts that with a tope suicida that doesn't look as good as it normally does. Why is Edge even knocked down for more than three seconds? All Benoit did was fly at him and connect something vaguely resembling a push on the way down. I guess I shouldn't argue physics in a world where Irish whips make sense.

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We're back, and Benoit looks like he took most of the punishment during the break. Both guys punch the shit out of each other while Bischoff and Lawler hilariously shill the new ECW magazine coming tomorrow while denouncing it at the same time. Benoit goes for the Sharpshooter but can't lock it in. Edge pounds away and gets a spear in the corner. This match is kind of plodding. It's the American Idol equivalent of Anthony Federov: everything is done just competently, but there's no spark there at all. Or, as Simon Cowell would say, "I could see this match in any Portuguese nightclub."

Edge goes out to bring in a table, but Benoit baseball-slides it into his face. He goes out and tosses Edge in, and hangs up Edge's nuts on the lower rope. Benoit teases a German suplex from the apron, and Edge teases a suplex, but Benoit counters and brings them both back in. Now things are getting interesting. Back on the apron, Benoit tries a blind charge but is killed by a stiff forearm shot from Edge. Edge goes up but gets knocked down and kicked to the floor.

Benoit grabs another table from under the ring and sets it up inside the ring. He teases a superplex through the table, but Lita moves it out of the way at the last second. She throws the briefcase in, but Edge loses his grip on it when he's German suplexed out of his boots. The crowd goes crazy for Benoit as he repositions the table and lays Edge on it, incapacitating him with headbutts. He goes up top (DON'T DO IT, CHRIS! Isn't that how you broke your neck the first time?), but gets shoved off by Lita. Bischoff takes this moment to jump from the announce table and bring his goons down to the ring: Maven, Tomko, and Snitsky. I henceforth dub them the Trio of Duh.

The Trio all gang up on Benoit, and Edge powerbombs him through the table for the win.

Winner: Edge

Bischoff has to get in his punch line, so he gets in the ring and gives Paul Heyman the message that this is just a little taste of what he can expect at the PPV. Really, is a group of Extreme Championship Wrestling alums supposed to be scared by this batch of weenies? Just keep Snitsky the fuck away from Dawn Marie, if you catch my drift. In a funny moment, Lita clearly says "Don't kiss me" to Edge, who's sporting a bloody mouth.

Up Next: Just because Trips isn't in the building doesn't mean he can't ruin your night!

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At the announce table: J.R. and Lawler bring up the events surrounding Batista and Trips last week, and point out that Big Dave can't be at 100% tonight when he faces Hassan. We then get yet another video recap of what happened last week.

Either Fire the Sound Guys, or Give Them a Raise

Trips is trying so hard to look like Lemmy Kilmister that it's a little scary. Remember how in Batman Forever, Jim Carrey was trying so hard to be Bruce Wayne that he got himself some Val Kilmer-like moles on his cheeks? Likewise, I want to see Trips sporting the full-on Lemmy warts. No, Stephanie doesn't count.

Anyway, Trips does exactly what you'd expect him to do: he ignores J.R's perfectly valid question ("You lost to Batista twice and then again in the Gold Rush tournament. Why the hell do you deserve a title shot?"), and takes five minutes to make a point that he could have made in two. It boils down to this: when you beat an animal, it either becomes more violent or submissive. And Dave, from Hunter's point of view, became scared during his beating last week. He puts over how brutal Hell in a Cell is, but tells Batista not to fear the Cell: "Fear me."

Blah-dee-blah-dee-blah. What's way more interesting than this promo is the crowd reaction to it: they start chanting "Boring!" less than fifteen seconds in, and then the sound mysteriously drops out. Coincidence, or smart people in the production truck? The ambient crowd noise is completely absent for the middle of the promo, but comes back at the end to obviously catch the reaction to Trips' punch line. Instead of hearing boos or any "Ooohs" or "Aaahs," what do I hear? The melodic strains of "Na na na na, hey hey hey, goodbye!" You hear that, Trips? Some idiot in the crowd who made an ass out of himself and was kicked out got a bigger reaction than you.

Oh, and here's another thing: remember when Hell in a Cell was the final, end-all be-all match to blow off a classic feud between two iconic rivals? There always had to be a string of other "lesser" gimmick matches beforehand, and the feud might have been going for years at that point. Not so much anymore. It's the equivalent of a couple filing for divorce after their first argument about the toilet seat -- isn't that a little drastic? Shouldn't you try and work things out first, you know, have a street fight or something? Trips and Dave, I mean, not the married couple. Though that would be pretty cool. I think all domestic disputes should be settled War of the Roses-style.

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Chris Masters v. Apathy

I just can't get over how fucking lame this entrance is. It's the exact opposite of the Heartthrobs in every way: joyless and anticlimactic. As Masters makes his way to the ring, J.R. notes that he is 21 years old. Bull. Shit. There's not a chance in hell that this muscle-bound excuse for a receding hairline is younger than I am.

Masters starts his usual schtick, and has this week upped the ante to $10,000 (and makes a cheap shot about the value of Canadian currency.) He says that not one plant he's pulled out of any crowd has been able to put up a fight, so now he's opening up the challenge to anyone in the locker room. Oh man, the day when Kane destroys this douche is going to be sweet.

Winner: Apathy

Well, that was a hell of a match. But look, here comes Val Venis to take Masters up on his challenge! Masters takes the mic and says that he's a big fan of Val's: "My roommate in college has every single one of your movies." I call bullshit on the grounds that Masters wouldn't have even made it through freshman orientation before dropping out. Val takes the mic and hits a lame line about him always giving very "stiff competition."

Val takes a seat in the chair in the middle of the ring, but gets kicked in the back of the head rather than Master-locked. Masters puts the boots to him and Val teases fighting out of it, even using the turnbuckle to shove Masters on his back, but it doesn't work, and it's lights out.

STILL the Winner: Apathy

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And Now, a Brief Respite from The Suck

Familiar music cues up, and we are graced by the presence of none other than Christian. Thank GOD. Christian is my American Idol. He gets a great reaction from his home country: "Take note, America... this is the response you give to a superstar like me!" Word. He brings up the Draft Lottery, but gets interrupted by a "Christian!" chant. Turns out he's been looking over the Smackdown! roster, and he thinks that they're missing a little something. "They've got Americans, they've got Mexicans, they've got Japanese, they've got Frenchmen, they've got a Giant, they've got a st-stutterer, they've got a Deadman... they've got a rapping hip-hop poser champion who couldn't make me say 'I Quit!' even if he forced me to listen to his lame-ass CD!" Bwahahaha! Christian is so much better than this show sometimes.

"What they don't have is a Canadian!" he continues. One who could beat anyone on Smackdown! He says that if he's drafted to Smackdown!, they'll be getting the Three C's: "Charisma, Canada (huge pop), and Christian!" If Christian maintains his current level of awesomeness, I just might have to start watching that crapfest again. Angle, Eddie, Rey, and Christian just might be able to save that show. Go and polish that turd, Captain Charisma!

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Next week: Triple H and Batista have a brawl... er, contract signing, and Jericho will interview RAW's first Draft Lottery pick.

Muhammad Hassan (w/ Daivari) v. Batista

J.R. and King are somehow under the impression that a not-at-100% Batista might not be able to handle these two. Batista's got himself a new remix of his entrance music. It sounds pretty cool, but half of the entrance is made by the pyro and epileptic lighting anyway. I can't make out the lyrics as they're kind of screamy and echo-y, which is good, because they're probably awful.

Has WWE ever had a really awesome theme song that wasn't done by an outside band? Triple H and Benoit have the best themes in the business, and they have Motorhead and Our Lady Peace to thank. The only one I can think of was the one for Summerslam 2002, and I don't think that'll ever be topped.

Anyway, Batista attacks to start, and pounds on Hassan in the corner with elbows and knees. Hassan gets knocked out and Batista follows. He takes out Daivari for good measure, but walks right into a DDT when he comes back in. Hassan smells blood and goes after Dave's head with boots and a neckbreaker that gets two. Hassan goes for a cobra clutch (two minutes in?), but gets snapmared out of it.

Batista fights back and looks a little drunk, and I have to wonder if this is good acting or if he really is that winded after only a few minutes. If it's the latter, it's really making me hate this match. When two guys can barely stand up after going 25 minutes, that's good drama. When two guys are staggering around after three minutes, then I feel like they're just half-assing it, even though it's probably the show's fault for not giving them enough time to really tell the story. Fucking show.

Hassan eats a spinebuster, and Batista catches Daivari going up top. He trades clotheslines on them in opposite corners, and he gives Daivari a bunch of vicious knees to the face, busting him open. He goes back to Hassan and pounds on him in the corner with closed fists and boots, and chokes him out, ignoring the ref's protests all the while. Finally, the ref's had enough and calls for a DQ.

Winner (via DQ): Hassan

Say it with me now: laaaaaaaaaaaaame. I like Dave, I really do. But am I really supposed to buy that lethargic beat-down as being disqualification-worthy? Dave shoves the ref aside and goes after Daivari again. Hassan tries to get a chair, but gets busted open on the concrete floor for his troubles. Batista grabs the chair instead and wallops Hassan over the head with it. I don't know what gives, but Batista is really sucking wind here, and it's affecting this beatdown. Victoria going batshit crazy earlier was 10 times more effective than this is.

A bunch of refs show up and none of them do anything to prevent Batista from powerbombing Daivari and Hassan through the mat, and Batista poses with the belt to close out the show. The point is made, I guess: when cornered, Batista is the type of animal that gets more violent rather than submissive. No anvils in that presentation, which is nice. Or not, as Lawler takes the exact moment I type that to re-iterate Triple H's point from earlier. Thanks, Jerry. Shut up. And there but for the grace of Bo Bice goes the show.

Fin.