If only they'd let him carry around a non-stupid Real Title Belt instead of Cena's. Cuz that still just screams "Placeholder Champ" to me. 

Still: excellent RAW tonight, with two top shelf "anchor" matches, some decent filler in between, and a slammed-together, "dense" sort of pacing that made the show feel LOTS different than usual. Lately, there's tons of filler and fluff and "moments ago" replays and stuff that just gets FF'ed. But other than commercials (and, OK, the "Dancing with the Stars" bit), I'm not sure I had a chance to FF a whole lot of RAW.

The proof is on the clock... I finished watching "24" (or, as I like to call it thanks to DVR technology, "18") then started in on RAW at 10pm. And I didn't finish up till slightly after 11:30, which means I didn't axe much of anything at all beside the half-hour of commercials. That might strike some of you as an odd metric or observation, but trust me: I think you can tell a lot about the overall Sizzle Factor of a show based on how much Real Content they deliver (vs. Fluff), and how much the presentation makes you want to Fast Forward the Fluff (in last night' case, a lot of the "unnecessary" fluff were TLC Video Clip Highlights, which -- for reasons that I would hope are self-evident -- I was more than happy to sit back and enjoy).

So anyway: good stuff. Very good stuff.

Be warned that if I'm a bit terse from here on out, it's for two reasons: (1) this show was actually good for once, and you should've seen it instead of counting on me to dress it up for you, and (2) I'm in crippling pain and the less time I spend in an office chair, the better. All I want to do is get this mother turned out so I can begin the evening's process of recreational pharmaceuticalizing.

We ride....

Opening Theme/Pyro/Etc., and although I missed it on the first time around, we are live from SOMEwhere in North Carolina, which only makes Ric Flair's participation in a WWE Title Match all the more interesting, since you know fans are gonna be digging it. Joey Styles, Jerry Lawler, and Coach do, in fact, run down some of our line-up for tonight, which includes Flair vs. Edge in a TLC Match for the WWE Title and a Shawn Michaels vs. Kurt Angle match. And speaking of Kurt Angle, Joey, King, and Coach have some 'splainin' to do, so they run and narrate some footage from Angle winning the World Title on SmackDown!, and wonder what that means for Angle's status here on RAW. I'm sure we'll find out soon enough, but first...

The Cutting Edge: Very Special "Not The Cutting Edge" Edition

Edge's music interrupts the introductionalizing, and he and Lita hit the stage. Still with the gay Bling Belt, too, sadly, but oh well. On the upside, Lita's apparently decided to make jeans-and-one-of-those-tops (don't pretend like you don't know the kind I'm talking about) her official uniform. I don't like that I'm so easily placated, but for some reason, this look does a number on my ability to think clearly.

In the ring, and it's time to talk. And immediately, Edge says some of the kind of things that he should have said last week as part of his Very First Night As Champ. Because openly taunting any fans out there who see him as a fluke champion or who think he's just a placeholder champion? That's a damned fine way to grab some attention and start pressing buttons. Even mine, since lord knows that's kind of how I feel, and if Edge wants to tell me why I'm wrong, I'm gonna perk up and listen.

So Edge goes off on a tirade about how he out-smarted everybody and picked the perfect time to withdraw his Money In The Bank. And then the next night, he proved he's box office gold by having the highest rated segment on RAW in over two years. Edge pinned John Cena, he destroyed Ric Flair, and people had better just get used to more of the same, because Edge doesn't intend to go anywhere.

That starts later on tonight when Edge promises that he'll finish off Ric Flair once and for all. But first, Edge laments that his Live Sex Acts were interrupted last week, so what he'd REALLY like to do would be to have Lita finish HIM off, if you know what Edge means.

But this week, it's not some over-wrought, unfunny, unsexy display. Instead, it's about 20 seconds, and they get no further than Lita taking off Edge's shirt and then Edge asking for a chair to be handed into the ring. That's all Edge needs: a chair. Eunuch Joey is confused, but King assures him that this can work. [And you people thought I was joking last week when I said that Edge's Dirtbag College Apartment Futon of Limited Seduction Capabilities was still, despite all it's cheapness, probably a downright classy place to get boned for a dirty, dirty girl like Lita.] 

And then, before things can devolve -- or a bOObie can fall out of its top -- we are bailed out by the trumpet fanfare from the "Theme to You Suck." Although the fans still sing along with the "You Suck," the cheers they give him afterwards and the new fancy pyro make it quite clear that this is a New Babyface Kurt we're dealing with. Even though Daivari is still hanging around.

Once to the ring and soaking up the cheers, Kurt rewinds us about 4 minutes, and suggests that no matter what Edge says, it's displays like this that make people think Edge's a joke of a champ. Angle says Edge just took advantage of a situation and of an already-beaten man. Angle says the way a MAN, the way a REAL champ does things is the way Kurt did it: he went to SmackDown!, he beat 19 of the best, and he walked out with the title. Along the way, Kurt also slides in the cheap little reason for why he went to SD!... apparently his RAW contract expired on January 1, and while in the midst of negotiating his extension (with Eric Bischoff, says Kurt, which has to have been a brain fart) he noticed Batista's injury, saw an opening, and accepted Teddy Long's offer.

Edge begs to differ about what makes a Man and a Real Champion, noting a few key points: (1) he pinned John Cena, something Angle couldn't do in multiple tries, and he only needed 2 minutes to do it, (2) Angle was eliminated first in the Chamber and is clearly a wussbag, and probably a few more. Sadly, he did NOT remind Kurt who beat him in a Loser Shaves His Head Match; probably because that would only raise the issue of why Kurt's STILL shaving his head 3 years later.

With that, Angle starts getting a little hot  under the collar, and says he doesn't care about both their scheduled matches tonight. He'll gladly put those off, because if Edge wants to prove he's a Real Champion, he'll face Kurt, right here, right now, and they'll unify these titles TONIGHT. Edge teases that he'll agree, but then issues a hearty "Fuck no," because Edge doesn't give a crap about what the second-rate champion of a second-rate brand thinks, and will not be dignifying Angle's challenge. This had a very dismissive bit of "I said GOOD DAY, SIR" to it.

Which Angle no-likey, so he decided to grab Edge when Edge turned his back and launch into some suplexing. Lita, what with her precarious blousal situation, was in no position to help. But luckily, Vince McMahon was in no mood for shenanigans, so he decided to Silly Walk his way to the ring, and his two champions dutifully stopped tussling to await the boss.

Vince said there won't be any title unification. Not tonight, anyway. Because Vince McMahon has been advertising two matches for tonight's RAW, and the fans will get them. That means Edge is excused to get ready for his TLC Title defense later.... but right now, Angle's number is up and it's time for his match against Shawn Michaels. One thing: Angle's World Title isn't on the line. Another thing: if Shawn Michaels loses, he's immediately fired. Huh. At least he and could get together and trade notes about how only in wrestling does "fired" mean "we'll see you at the next TV tapings."

So Vince calls Shawn out to the ring, and the two share some decidedly unfriendly words on the entrance ramp. So it is thus that this strong opening segment -- which did more good for Edge's credibility than all of last week and which clarified Angle's status -- smooth segued (almost ECW Style) into our opening match. Well, assuming you can wait till after these....

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Kurt Angle vs. Shawn Michaels (Non-Title Match, If Shawn Loses He Is Fired)

Back, and this match is joined in progress, with Michaels in control. He's sticking to pretty basic, early-match type moves. Lots of chops and punchy-kicky. He eventually settles in on a side headlock for a while.

Angle escapes out of that with a suplex, and kind of gets the same thing: a sequence of pretty basic stuff with him in control. Sort of a tit-for-tat deal that I'm sure had the psychological effect of blurring the heel/face lines so fans could feel free to cheer however they wanted. Angle eventually settled in with his own little underwhelming hold: his Body Scissors Of Extreme Visual Excitement.

But when Shawn worked his way out of that, things got good in a hurry. Shawn tried to re-establish control, but failed, and instead, Angle went to work with a series of 4 or 5 suplexes, including a Hat Trick of Germans. Angle started a focus on Michaels back, but when he went for a belly-to-belly suplex, Michaels countered it with a DDT in a sweet spot. But then as Michaels tried to turn that into a rally, Daivari struck and distracted Michaels out to ringside.

Michaels eventually got sick and tired of jawing with Daivari, and just superkicked the hell out of him. But by wasting all that time, Shawn had allowed Kurt to recover. And when Michaels turned around, he was met by an Angle Slam on the Thin Black Mats At Ringside. Ouch. And let us never forget: that back? It's Surgically Reconstructed. We'll have to see how Angle capitalizes. After some...

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We come back to find Michaels in the midst of a little hope spot, but that dies down soon enough as Angle regains command and focuses entirely on Michaels lower back, per logic and good common sense. This goes on for a minute or two, and then Angle decides it might be time for a Death Blow.

He sets Shawn up in a sitting position on the top turnbuckle, and first tries a standard Superplex. No sale, as Michaels shoves him off. Michaels then repositions himself, and looks like he might try coming off the top with a double-sledge or something, but Angle bounces up and tries his Run Up The Ropes Belly-to-Belly Superplex. But again: no sale, as Shawn shoves him off. But in the shoving, Shawn again got off balance and had to reposition himself, more leaning across the corner as he tried to get his feet back under him.... and in that moment, Angle tried one more time, and this time: a Run Up The Ropes Angle Slam.

Are you shitting me? Just awesome. Great set-up/tease work, and great execution on the final spot to make it look like somebody (possibly even Angle, who rolled all the way through on it) might be dead. But alas: this is wrestling, and even mostly-dead, everybody can still kick out at 2. Which Michaels does.

Angle tries to continue his offensive, and does for maybe a minute, but then Michaels decides its time to try his comeback in earnest. Coming off the ropes, it's a Flying Burrito. We all know what comes next. And Angle knows it, too. So when Shawn eventually manages to Kip Up, Kurt was just waiting for him, and sends Shawn face-first into the mat by picking an ankle... but before any damage can be done, Michaels reverse that into very convincing near-fall roll-up. But again, only 2. 

Michaels continued in control, hitting what is rapidly becoming a standard Interstitial Move during the Five Moves of Doom: an inverted atomic... in fact, that's the set-up for the Macho Man elbow on this night. But again: Kurt's no dum dum. He rolls out of the way at the last second, and the elbow misses. Both men down.

Then both men up. Some quick back and forth, and then after a few teases and reversals, Angle cinches in the Ankle Lock for good. Or so it would seem. But some funny happened on the way to the Tap Out: Michaels tried to make it to the ropes, where Daivari was leaning in and bad-mouthing Michaels. So Michaels got pissed and instead of going for the ropes, lunged to bitch-slap Daivari with his last ounce of energy. End result: Angle was able to yank Michaels back to the middle of the ring and add in the Special Grapevining Action of You Better Tap Now Bitch, while Daivari got a little sand in his vagina after beind dissed.

With Michaels on the brink of having to tap, Daivari grabs a steel chair and hops in to the ring, intending to use it to get sweet, sweet vengeance on Michaels. But the ref intercepts him. And then Angle, seeing the commotion, releases the ankle lock to try to tell Daivari to settle down and this match'll be over soon enough. Problem is, the ref and Daivari are grappling over the chair, and when Daivari wins the tug of war, the chair goes crashing backwards. Directly into Angle's face.

Angle stumbles backwards. And even on one leg, Michaels is able to hit a quick schoolboy roll-up. One, two, three. Michaels will not be fired tonight.

Your Winner: Shawn Michaels, via pinfall, in about 16 minutes or so (tough to tell, since it started during a commercial break, but we got at least 12 minutes from the moment we joined in). Flat out excellent, especially in the second half. And we still had a little storyline element yet to come, because...

After The Match: Daivari realized what he'd done, and to try to cover it up, he immediately started putting the loafers to Michaels carcass. But Angle didn't care about that, and pulled Daivari off HBK to give him a talking to. For a while, Daivari took it in stride, like the good little zeta-male man-servant he is. But even Daivari has SOME pride, so when Angle really started lacing into him, Daivari started shouting back, "Hey, I screwed up but you're still the champ and we'll go to SmackDown! and I'll make sure it never happens again. So settle the hell down, baldo!" And then, he made the mistake of slapping Angle. Dummy. Angle had no choice. His manager must be made into toast. This culminated in an Angle Slam from the ring to the floor. Ouch. Joey even busted out an "Oh My God" for that one (which he's been using sparingly, if at all, since starting full time for WWE). At this point, we're 40 minutes into the show, and everything has been awesome. Can this trend continue? Well, given what's coming up next, it's unlikely. That's because CFM is up next after these....

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During the break: on behalf of WWE.com, Todd Grisham caught up with Kurt Angle, who made it clear that he's through with Daivari. Daivari's managerial services are no longer required, and then, in the kind of tagged-on, hokey misstep I hope that they don't repeat just because Kurt's a babyface now and they think he needs writer-y punchlines, Kurt popped back in to say, "If you see him, tell Daivari that HE's the one who sucks." Bleh. But again: that finishes the babyfacitization of Kurt Angle. You know what I was thinking after this bit? That it'd be so money if WWE could get Muhammad Hassan back. Not Terror Cell Hassan. But straight-talking, almost-sense-making Hassan, who could immediately pussy-whip Daivari with his stance that that's what he gets for trusting "those people" who are all biased against Arab Americans, which is why they have to look out for each other. Praise Allah. WWE's more dim-witted fans would still get the chance to chant "USA USA" at Hassan, what with Kurt being an Olympic Hero and all. But others among us could appreciate a multi-layered heel like Hassan who could slide right back into being an even bigger Ay-hole than he is an Ay-rab. Hey, even if you disagree about the long term prospects for WWE responsibly booking a Muslim character, you gotta grant me that Hassan showing up and eating up some of Angle's time would be a HELL of a lot better than SD! throwing Mark Henry and JBL at him for the next two PPVs.

Backstage: Now it's Maria the Mic Stand's turn to conduct and interview. With Chris F. Masters. When she opines that what Carlito did to Masters at New Year's Revolution was "mean," Master pantomimes a look that I guess is supposed to be him mocking Maria for being so stupid. Oh, the ironing. For some reason, I guess we're forgetting the part about how last week, Masters and Carlito worked out their differences and won a tag match as a result. Stupid Writer Monkeys and their lack of anybody paying attention to continuity. So Masters actually puts a bad-mouth on Carlito for a bit, promising to teach Carlito a lesson in the Royal Rumble en route to becoming the youngest Rumble winner ever. You keep on dreaming, chumpstain. But before we get to that, Masters has reopened his Shitty Full Nelson Challenge, and tonight, he's going to make a victim out of John Cena. Ugh, that'll be electrifying, I'm sure. And it's official: in a safely pre-taped segment, CFM can at least get the name of the last RAW PPV correct. But he still talks in that horrifyingly un-engaging "half-sentence-at-a-time" sort of way that defines a goodly percentage of Randall Orton's promo work. It's fake and off-putting and unnatural. But I guess it's done on purpose as part of a "we'll get you to slow down your speaking enough that you don't fuck up your lines" philosophy. It's just annoying when you have to slow a guy down so far that his "promos" seem like a string of 20 or so 5-word soundbites that you have to really try to pay attention to if they're to flow together and make any kind of impact on the viewer. Also: I was deeply annoyed at this notion that Masters and Carlito go from patching up their difference with a big tag win last week to Masters being all whiny and bitchy about something that happened at the last PPV. 

Elsewhere Backstage: Trish Stratus and Diva Search Ashley are strapping in their respective boobily parts for an upcoming match, and are discussing just how much they can trust their third partner, Mickie James. Ashley is less-then-confident, but makes it clear that she trusts Trish's judgment so if Trish says it's OK.... and Trish says, yeah, she thinks it's OK, it's just that Mickie's a little over-protective or something and it shouldn't be a problem to them working together tonight. Ashley: "A little over-protective? Try obsessed, Trish." Trish: "[begins gesturing in the finest -- and in her case, most appropriate -- of manners, Broadly... that um, kibosh that, on the downlow, look behind you]". Despite the fact that Trish would make quite a fetching and talented Charades partner, Ashley doesn't quite get the message in time, and Mickie James slinks into frame. "Are you talking about me?" Trishley appear to be properly ashamed at being caught red-handed, and neither can even make eye contact with Mickie. Finally Mickie decides it's best to just get it all out in the open, by admitting, "Cuz yeah, I am obsessed." But then takes it in another direction by saying she's been obsessed this whole past week about what she did to Ashley last week, and how she's so sorry. But tonight it'll all be OK, cuz they are partners, and they'll show the other girls an ass-whupping. 

Somewhere in here, Trish manages to call Victoria, Candice, and Torrie "The Three Skankateers," but I would just like to caution her that that has all the legs of "The Chick Kick," and it will not be getting OO's endorsement anytime soon. Finally confident that she's won over Trishley, Mickie gets all smilely and happy again, and throws her arms around the shoulders of her teammates and pulls 'em in for a quick hug. Then Ashley gets a pat on the back. But Trish gets a swat on the fanny. "Just for luck" says Mickie. Trish doesn't quite buy it, but has to let it slide, because even if Mickie's lying, this is a hell of a lot more convincing and subtle a "mind game" than some of the previous over-the-top, brush-it-off-because-it's-so-retardedly-fake pretend-lesbianism. But if Trish is gonna let that slide in the name of "good luck," I officially want to be informed the next time she's gonna be in Vegas and hitting the tables. Something else: take Chris F. Masters' speaking ability, multiply it by six, then divide it by Three Girls, and the chicks STILL had extra Natural, Believable Personality in this skit than Masters did in his. Even Diva Search Ashley was bringing it.

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The Rick Is Running Long and Shall Shave Time Here By Delivering a Shitty Keller-Caliber Recap of This Segment

Chris Masters came out, fumbled his way through a promo that nobody in the crowd reacted to, and then opened up his $1000 Full Nelson challenge to anybody in the arena. Some guy came in, and failed to escape the full nelson, so this horseshit will almost certainly be reprised again. Six minutes of our lives we'll never get back.

[Sorry to dust off that classic old Rick Chestnut from the spring of 2005, but if WWE's turning back the clock with Masters, I shan't be bothered to invent any new ways to make a mockery of his abilities. I can recyle, too. Just, for the record, know that the "some guy" in this case was John Cena, who came in, got his standard mixed reaction while the announcers tried to cover for it, ALMOST escaped the full nelson, but then Edge came out, hit Cena with the WWE Title Belt, and Masters reapplied the full nelson till Cena was passed out. Whee. I really don't understand what good could come out of this segment or what purpose it was to serve other than safely putting Cena in the ring that fans wouldn't cheer for over Cena. But on a night of so much other good stuff, I'll take six minutes of utterly insipid boredom, and thank WWE for at least not asking us to sit through an actual match with these two. Though you know that's coming one of these weeks, too. Here's hoping Erin Anderson decides to make herself useful around here again whatever hellish week that shall be.]

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Backstage: Shawn Michaels is getting his ankle looked at by the trainer, when in walks Vince McMahon, who is frankly incredulous that Michaels still has a job. Vince has heard of pulling rabbits out of hats and the Luck of the Irish, and all, but he simply can't believe Michaels managed to win this match. Hey, Vince: maybe Mickie James just swatted him on the ass on his way to the ring? Anyway, Vince assures Michaels that some day, Shawn's luck will run out, and Vince will be there to enjoy it. Vince, in fact, "guarantees" this. Then he says that he wants Michaels ejected from the building for the rest the night. Whaaaaaaaa? I mean: whatever, it didn't make any sense, but it's also not a big deal. 

Then Vince moves over to the guy on the next training table over, who happens to be Ric Flair. One can only assume Flair came to the trainer to receive a King's Ransom in Bayer Aspirin, in anticipation of wanting to wear the mightiest of Crimson Masks later tonight.... but whatever Flair's reason for being there, he's again in Mute Mode tonight. He just lets Vince go off on this lengthy Fake Pep Talk, where Vince pretends like he really thinks Flair can win his 17th World Title. [Note: the fakeness was actually so over-the-top that it almost felt like it could be double-reverse psychology in which Vince was setting the stage for Flair to REALLY win the title against all odds, which added much to the main event's Sizzle Factor.] But then, almost as if Vince's awkward and obvious grabbing of his ear was a Blatant Cue To A Slightly Dim-Witted Bimbo Who Can't Be Trusted To Remember When To Enter (if you didn't notice it, well, that's why I'm The Rick and You're Not; but you can also review the tape and be struck by the fact that Vince was clearly cueing somebody), Candice Michelle struts into frame. Using all the powers of her sub-normal intelligence -- but also distracting Vince with her super-human cleavage -- Boobies McTitsalot rambles something about how her match is up next, and she'd really like it if Vince could watch it "move for move" and then they'll have a "meeting" afterwards to discuss it. Vince, of course, agrees to this instantly. But with the caveat that first Boobies has to do the Go Daddy Dance for him. In the background, Flair is still mute, but is giving off a vibe of "Christ, only a total tool would be so enamored with vapid whores less than half his age." Which, if we are to be fair, is pretty much as ironic as Chris F. Masters trying to convey a disbelief in Maria's stupidity was earlier in the show.

Trish Stratus/Diva Search Ashley/Mickie James vs. Victoria/Boobies McTitsalot/Torrie Wilson

During the ring entrances, they pause to show footage of a new Go Daddy ad that will air during the Super Bowl. Um, dum dums: you do realize that things like the Budweiser Talking Frogs and other moronic shit like that has a pop culture shelf life of essentially 3 days after the Super Bowl every year, right? And then, once the retarded ad people figure out that American has become deeply annoyed with their lame creations, 2 years later, you have things like crocodiles eating the fucking annoying talking frogs. Trust me on this: Candice Michelle's 15 minutes have been up for about 49 weeks, now, and you're only making yourself look stupider if you're attaching some kind of significance to her doing a sequel to a goddamned COMMERCIAL that America collectively forgot about a year ago. Then again: if somehow lightning is caught in the bottle twice, I can make a push for using MY pet name for Candice as OO's New Standard.... cuz even a year later, I like the sound of "Titties McSuperbowl."

The match? About a minute of Trish and Victoria rocking your world with gOOdness. It was short enough and enough of an afterthought, though, that I feel OK observing that Trish was having some Pants Related Issues that made that one minute even more entertaining. And also that Victoria was experimenting with some kind of Next Generation Ass Panel Technology (taking the original work of Ivory, and expanding upon it, really); except my eye is pretty discerning in these matters, and I'm pretty sure Victoria cheats and uses the annoying flesh-tone tights/hose like what they use on Hooters girls, which reduces the effect significantly versus Ivory's seminal work.

End Game comes very quickly, as Candice came in to try to cheat, but Trish managed to hit a combo take over (Eddie-style), with a headlock on Victoria and a leg scissors on Boobies. Nice idea, but Boobies' inexperience shows on spots like this where she renders them a bit less smooth (as it did in the Afghanistan tag match, where Trish was clearly opting for the Short Bus Version of her offense in deference to Candice's limitations).

Anyway, having dodged that bullet, Trish figures it might be time for a fresh woman in the match. Though both her partners have arms extended, Trish opts for Ashley. Mickie gets mildly miffed at this. But then Victoria slugs Ashley in the face, and Ashley crashes backwards into Mickie, one of her flailing arms smacking Mickie in the jaw. Suddenly "mildly miffed" doesn't begin to describe Mickie.

Mickie just hops into the ring and goes psycho-bitch on Ashley. That's not a DQ, since they're partners. But when Trish comes in and yanks Mickie off, the two tumble to the outside, where Trish is pretty much grilling Mickie, Krazee Eyez-style ("Yo, mother fucker, what the fuck?"), and Mickie's alternating between trying to make the case for Ashley being a bitch and being sorry for the misunderstanding. Meantime, while Trish and Ashley are distracted, Ashley eats a Widow's Peak and gets pinned.

Your Winners: Victoria And Her Boobs, via pinfall, in MAYBE 2 minutes, tops. First minute had good action, and I gotta grant, I like the way the storyline has turned a corner since the PPV. You can go so many ways with this, including focusing on Mickie just being unbalanced and psycho but not so much so that Trish can call her on it yet.... but you can go more subtle routes, too, seeing as how this is now the second week in a row where Ashley got pinned in a match because of Mickie and also, indirectly, because of Mickie's "friendship" with Trish. I don't necessarily know that RAW needs more female heels, but just a dalliance with the Dark Side for Ashley, before she realizes Trish is clearly in the right, would make for a few better weeks of filler than if Trish is asked to make Torrie Wilson into compelling opposition. From a storyline side, at least.

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Video Package: Rob Van Dam is still returning at the Royal Rumble.

Carlito's Cabana: Very Special Not Carlito's Cabana Edition

What is up tonight? Two times guys who host interview segments hit the ring for interviews.... but they aren't presented as the actual interview segments. Not good or bad, but definitely odd.

Carlito, showing why he's a few steps ahead of most of WWE's other recently-debuted stars, was apparently watching the TitanTron, and saw that Rob Van Dam video. And he's not impressed. Afterall, last time RVD was on TV, Carlito was beating the shit out of him, and causing him to miss even more time due to injury than he was supposed to. For the benefit of those without attention spans, Carlito orders the monkeys in the truck to roll some footage.

Yep, looks like Carlito's story checks out.

So when Carlito says that RVD will be no different than the other 29 uncool wieners in the Rumble, he gets plenty o' the heat. But then Carlito gets cocky, and says that he's going to win the Rumble because there's nobody on either show who'll be able to throw him over the top rope. What an odd (and potentially stupid) thing to say, because....

THROUGH FALLING ANVILS AND STULTIFYING OBVIOUSNESS, IT'S KANE!

Carlito plays chickenshit, but Kane gets his mits on him, eventually. And after a brief touch of brawling in the ring, guess what? Kane easily tosses Carlito over the top rope, exposing him to be a liar. Well, maybe not so much a liar as a "tool of the writer monkeys, who had him say something pretty silly to give the fans a crowd-pleasing, if uncreative and lazy, appearance by Kane."

Backstage: a stagehand alerts Vince McMahon that a woman is waiting outside to see him. Vince says he knows, and to send her in whenever she's ready. Which hopefully won't come till after these....

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Backstage: Vince is still awaiting his Mystery Woman. And if you didn't note the proximity of North Carolina to that of the similarly named South Carolina, and as a result, start trembling in fear that another Moolah/Mae Young appearance, I envy your naivete. But it turns out I missed the obvious: because there's ANOTHER comically un-bone-able character currently under the WWE umbrella who PRETENDS to be from South Carolina. So once Vince turns his back to the door, drops his pants, and invites the mystery woman to just rub up against him and do what she likes, I'm partially surprised that it's Shelton Benjamin's Mama. I *guess* that's a step in the right direction? Either that, or I let my expectations lower to the point that I was pleased with slightly less-stinky poop. Vince is surprised, too, and immediately pulls him his trousers before Shelton himself arrives and gets the wrong idea. Mama wants to know why she and Shelton came all the way from South Carolina (umm, that works better when you're not just 3 hours up the road, Mama), and now Her Boy Shelton doesn't even have a match. Shelton, apparently not as traumatized as he should be that his mom was just rubbing up against his half-naked boss, has moved on to acting like "That's OK, I don't need a match, really, just quit embarrassing me." But Mama is adamant. Shelton needs to quick back-talking and just go to the ring, and Mama will take care of everything. Shelton leaves. And Mama starts flirting with (well, "threatening" would be a better word) Vince, promising all manner of "Chocolate Thunder" and whatnot if he just takes them slacks back off. This, not surprisingly, has the effect of Vince bowing to Mama's wishes and promising that Shelton can have a match. Knowing Vince, not the kind of match that Mama wanted, but still a match. Mama leaves, satisfied with this outcome, but also flirting/threatening that if Vince ever wants him a slice of pie, he knows where he can get it. You know: not as bad as I would have guessed, here. I think the trick to all Vince-is-a-pervert skits is to have them end with Vince looking like an utter jackass, as he did here. Because he's BEHAVING like a jackass, and the punishment (300 lbs. middle aged black women coming on to him) should meet the crime (of thinking it's in any way realistic or relatable for a 60-year-old married man to be thinking about carrying on an affair with a 20-something bimbo on national TV and also thinking that he'd get away with it).

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Shelton Benjamin vs. Big Show

Shelton and Mama hit the ring. They await the opponent. It turns out to be Big Show (who is now sporting a normal-sized, non-sledge-hammer-like cast). Shelton is immediately intimidated and wants his mommy. Mama immediately bails out and says "You're on your own son, good luck." Bitch.

Shelton tried to jump start the match as Show playfully toyed with Mama at ringside, but that worked for all of maybe 30 seconds. Then Show started going to town. Reaction shots of Mama made it clear she wasn't gonna be interjecting herself into THIS one.

But luckily, help came from another source. About a minute in, the ref was checking on a limp Shelton, and Triple H ran out to the ring. They had a quick exchange of blows at ringside, but then HHH just sprinted away. And once the ref turned back, all he was was Big Show foolishly lumbering after HHH. A count to ten later, and that's your match.

Your Winner: Shelton Benjamin, via count-out, in about 90 seconds, tops. Nothing as a match, but the "winning streak" continues. This time, no thanks to Mama. But would I be wrong if I started having visions of a New Evolution, and maybe you could use this as the start of Shelton being one of the new members? All it would take is HHH asking Shelton to "prove himself" by turning against his own Mama at some point in the future, and BAM, you might have something. Beats the hell out of my fears (of a year ago) that CFM was being groomed for a New Evolution. And plus: there's really no reason for HHH to be engaging Show (HHH already "won" that feud), unless he has some reason for WANTING to help Shelton. Right? Or am I thinking too much again?

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No: Stacy + ABC reality show = No fucking way.

Edge vs. Ric Flair (TLC Match for the WWE Title)

A few notes from ring entrances: (1) Ric Flair's daughter is spotlighted in the front row (Ashley, I believe, is her name), probably just to give viewers the subconscious message that no matter how ugly Flair's divorce, his kids still like him a lot. Because make no mistake: Young Ashley Flair was WAY into this match with a simple, innocent, "It might all be real for all know" kind of way that we really haven't seen since Miss Elizabeth. Flair paused, talked to, and then quickly hugged her on his way to the ring, proving that it actually *is* possible (despite televisionographic evidence to the contrary) for Naitch to interact with a cute girl at ringside without groping her rack or nearly head-butting her. 

And (2): Lita has changed into a much-more-sensible tank top. Bad news for anybody who -- for whatever ungodly reasons -- uses wrestling to get the spankterial. And bad news for Flair, since this clearly means Lita's expecting to get physically involved.

Big fancy to-do to start, with a staredown, and the ref doing the whole Belt Ceremony (presenting it to both men, Edge kissing it -- goodbye? -- and the whole nine; the nearest us mere mortals come to something like this is the laughable pomp and circumstance associated with the Wine Ceremony you are required to do at any halfway-decent Dinner Out, which I'm pretty sure only happens because (1) dumb dudes think playing along with it and pretending it's important is OMG HOTT~! to chicks, and (2) it seems like an awful lot of work, so Wait Staff do it in hopes that it means a couple extra bucks of tippage). Of course, since I came into the night kinda thinking that if Edge still isn't 100% healthy, and after last week's stupidity his title reign was a joke, and all of a sudden, now they're busting out all this Spectacle.... on top of all the other Essentially-Uninterrupted Goodness on this show... well, hell, smack my ass, and call me Sally, because I'm gonna go ahead and get suckered in by the Pomp and Circumstance, since this is seeming WAY more interesting than I thought it'd end up being.

But pomp and circumstance and Meaningful Glances at the Title Belt (now hanging above the ring, per TLC Rules, awaiting the first man who can use a ladder to retrieve the belt) can only carry us so long... so Flair decides to kick us off with plenty of chops. Whooooo it up, North Cackalacki. But in fairness, I have to point out that, OOfficially, Chris Benoit is now the master of the Chop. What he did to Randall Orton last weekend was almost rude. ALMOST. There are many and myriad ways that Randall Orton gives the impression of possessing a vagina, but I'll give him this: no matter how many ways I'm confident I'm manlier than he is, the one thing he'll always have on me is "Macho enough to let Chris Benoit turn my chest into fucking ground sirloin for the good of the company." Which is maybe more dumb than macho, but whatever: Orton can have it over me any time he wants. At least, unless he wants to show me his paycheck and let me know what it's worth for me to go a week without being able to sleep on my front (as I prefer to do).

But I digress. Blame the fricking somas. I couldn't stand it anymore, so I started medicating my pain away early, and now I'm a rambling buffoon. Point is: Flair's chops get the "whoos" but they aren't necessarily the compellingly debilitating offensive moves that they are in the hands of Benoit. Which is why Edge is so quickly able to turn the tables. Well: turn the ladders, actually. After all of 2 minutes of action, Edge skips ahead to the part where they use the props, and makes a Nature Man Sandwich out of a ladder and a chair. Tables, however, have yet to come into play.

From there, the brawl is officially ON, bitch. They even go into the crowd for a few minutes. Always a nice touch. As they brawl back towards the ring, Edge gets the advantage at the last second, which he uses to suplex Flair once they are onto those Thin Black Mats. Ouch: it's been a while since I've mentioned it, but you know that thing with Flair and his Extra Gravity? It makes thudtastic bumps like that all the more sick and convincing (and vaguely guilt-inducing to be sitting here watching and loving it). You know what else? I hate having to do play-by-play on Edge's matches, since it puts a strain on my stream-of-consciousness voice when I can't say "Edge regains the edge over his opponent." A stupid, but true, Fact of Recappening. Right up there with how fucking annoying a name "Heidenreich" is to type, no matter how well-trained my 80-words-per-minute fingers are.

But I'm digressing again. Bad for you. But it means I'm feeling better. Yay. Edge takes advantage of his, ummmm fuck it, EDGE, and sets up a table, puts Flair on it, puts a chair under Flair's head, and is ready to unleash the One Man Con-Chair-To agayn. That is, until Flair reaches out at the last possible second and just grabs Edge's Man Region. Christ, Naitch: from what we've been told on TV, Edge abstained after winning the title, and still wanted Lita to FINALLY get his rocks off earlier tonight after an apparent week-long dry-spell.... are you sure that's where you want to be grabbing? Or maybe that's just the Dirtiest Player in the Game at work: in the post-coital haze, Edge would be rendered useless for about 90 seconds, while his concubine, Ric Flair's hand, could go on to grasp the WWE Title Belt.

Too bad Lita's not gonna let Edge enjoy the company of another man's hand. Hey, he left you high and dry to get F-U'ed last week, what do you care? But anyway, Lita breaks up the Sac Claw, and Flair chases her around long enough for Edge to recover. Then, when Flair turned a corner, he ate a chair shot. And just like that, it looks like Dr. Rios' prescription for "half a bottle of aspirin" paid off, as Flair's busted wide the fuck open. And gushing.

Edge drags Flair back to the 6-foot-banquet table. Puts Flair on it, face up. Asks his lovely Lita to kindly make sure the old man doesn't move. Gets in the ring. Sets up the ladder about five feet from the ropes. Climbs to the top. Jumps off. Clears the ropes. Crashes through Flair and the table, a good 15 feet below him.

HOE. LEE. SHIT.

Looks like Edge just said, "Eat me, Jeff Hardy. Maybe I never jumped off high places in our ladder matches, but I saved it up for when I was a real star and it mattered." Except: he probably didn't really mean it that way, and I only inferred that because I've long since ceased being able to look at Jeff Hardy without giggling uncontrollably. But you get the point. Five years ago in a TLC match, this stuntman spot was Jeff's to do, while E&C, and Matt, and the Dudleys generally stuck to slightly more pedestrian things. Today, when it REALLY matters in  a way it didn't five years ago, Edge just nuts up and says, "Give me the goddamned ball, and I'll run with it. And Naitch, I know this is gonna hurt you more than it hurts me, so thanks, pal." Awesome.

Crowd, by the way, agrees with the "Holy Shit" analysis, proving that I am, beyond any shadow of a doubt, the Voice of the People. Also, it was here that I decided the Reaction Cut-Aways to Ashley Flair were adding to, and not taking away from, the flow of the match. It's sad-but-true that Ric Flair's untrained teenaged daughter could teach Chris F. Masters lessons about being "in the moment" and never breaking stride or character and acting like you believe everything happening is real. Both guys are down (Flair's worse for wear, as he's REALLY bleeding now), so we might as well pause for....

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Christ. I thought Flair was bloody before. But when we come back, his face is smeared, and there's not a single square centimeter of bleached-white left in his hair. It's all bright red. A few quick cut-away shots to Flair's blood coagulating on the broken table gare thrown in for good measure. Gross, partially guilt-inducing, but I'm still really loving the intensity and the drama of this thing.

And you know the crazy thing? FLAIR is in command once we come back from break, Crimson Mask and all. Now, he's not jumping off high places or anything, but the man can swing a chair. So there's a lot of Edge Sandwiches, where Flair uses a ladder and a chair to create maximum flesh-on-steel contact. Not particularly creative or high-risk, but in the ebb and flow of the match, and just knowing where Flair's at in his career, you're just not-giving-a-shit because this is perfect Craftiness and Efficiency. Not fancy: but it works.

Until Flair gets greedy. He sets up a ladder near a corner, and embiggened by recent past successes with hitting moves off the top rope, is clearly thinking about hitting his double sledge off the top of the ladder. Oh, Naitch, you poor bastard. Sure enough, in the ice age it takes Flair (milking the crowd for every ounce along the way, in a nice bit of showmanship) to get to the top of the ladder, Edge recovers, and quickly bounds to the top of the ladder, too. Result: a sickening "Extra Gravity" Superplex from the top of the ladder by Edge on Flair. Ouch. Just: ouch. I don't need an Ashley Flair reaction shot there to feel genuine sympathy, but I get one anyway.

Then an odd spot: Edge went up to the top of the ladder and came off with the intention of hitting a Missile Dropkick. Only misstep of the match: I have no idea what was intended on this spot, as they kind of blew it. Flair half-side-stepped, and the result was a glancing-but-tangible blow. To their credit, Edge and Flair thought on their feet and saved things. Edge didn't immediately bounce up to celebrate a big move, and after stumbling around the ring for a few seconds, Flair did a showboaty Flair Flop. So OK: both guys down, let's reset this thing and go. Works for me.

The reset includes a bit of back-and-forthy, then Edge gets a chair and wallops Flair. Flair tumbles out of the ring. OK, so maybe the missile dropkick was supposed to hit? I dunno. I also duncare. Because with Flair now powdered out, it looks like Edge is ready to retain his title. He sets up a ladder in the center of the ring. He climbs to the top. His fingers actually brush up against the title belt. And then, as if from out of nowhere (but really just from off-screen in a carefully-framed super-tight camera shot, which is something I'll have to be lecturing WWE about one of these days, since you don't see FOX purposely going tight on a QB so that TV viewers can't see the blitz and they're "surprised" when a sack happens; just give us the big picture, fucktards, and if it's good and interesting, TRUST US TO LIKE IT; because we will) Ric Flair gets back in the ring and starts tipping the ladder. Slowly. Rocking it. Backwards. And finally gets leverage, so Edge goes tumbling from 15 up in the center of the ring through a table that had (unbeknownst to TV Viewers) been set up on the near-side of the ring. I'll repeat:

HOE. LEE. SHIT.

That's two TLC Stuntman Spots, and no Jeff Hardy in sight. Edge, my friend: I don't know for sure what the company wants out of your title reign, or if they even know how to get out of it what they want, but if this is what you're gonna put into it, regardless, consider me back on the E-Train.

Edge should, after that, be dead. So Flair takes him time. Since it's his home state and that last spot is awesome, takes his time to REALLY milk it. Long enough for me to interject Doll, Steak, Test, Meat. About 37 of you get it. The rest of you: shush, as the recap continues thusly....

Flair gets up to the top of the ladder, an arena full of fans (and if we are to be honest, a couch full of Rick) thinking maybe we're about to see something special happen. But then: Lita. Her confidence bolstered by a tank-top and a sensible brassiere, Lita grabs a hold of Flair's leg and just won't let go, no matter how much he shakes. So finally, Flair has to come on down to the Price is Right to tend tend to Lita in a more personal fashion.

This includes a brief visit to the Figure Four for Lita. Just long enough for Flair to be sure that the wench will not be able to walk again for the next 30 seconds that he needs to get on that damned ladder and get his title. Problem: while he's been incapacitating Lita, Edge has been recovering. So this time, when Flair re-ascends to the top of the ladder, he's met by a much more imposing foe.... Edge gets up there. Throws fists with Flair. Flair throws some chops back. Edge finally bounces Flair's noggin off the top of the ladder.

And that, my friends, sends Flair crashing back down to the mat. Edge and the ladder hold steady, Edge moves up one rung, and grabs his title belt. He's still The Champ.

Your Winner: Edge, via Ladder Ascension, in about 16-18 minutes. Just flat out excellent, with Edge doing things that a Man Who Just Got Handed A Dream Opportunity SHOULD be doing to protect and extend that opportunity (contrast with things like First Title Matches for guys like Orton and Cena in the past 18 months that made NO impact on fans and did nothing to say "Hey, lookit me, I DESERVE this attention"). And with Flair doing things that a Man Who's Pushing 60 Shouldn't Do Under Any Circumstances, But Which Are Still Greatly Appreciated. I'll put it this way: if the bar for 2006 is as low as it was in 2005, this is destined to be a Top Five Match (at lest, as far as WWE is concerned). But even if (as I hope) the bar in 2006 is moving up, this is still gonna be fondly remembered come year's end. The real litmus test: if WWE keeps the belt on Edge past the Rumble PPV, then this'll be remembered as the match that "made" him. If WWE just puts the gay-ass Bling Belt back on Cena, it'll lose a bit of that luster and significance. [But trust me, it could still be for the greater good, as I'm not against Cena taking that belt to Mania, assuming you're willing to do something interesting with him and his character. Like turn him heel. To wit:]

After the Match: Edge and Lita try to put a further beating on Flair. But then, as if only about 5 minutes too late to be of any cosmic usefulness, John Cena arrives and scares the couple off. Edge and Lita slink away with the title and with shit-eating grins. Cena stands in the ring "protecting" Flair's bloody carcass. Flair, sadly, is not given the chance to get up and say, "Thanks for nothing, Junior. If you'd come out to hog-tie that skank five minutes ago, I'd be Champ." Instead, the show ends with Cena and Edge staring each other down. My play: if you don't trust Edge to have more weeks and more matches like this week, and you put the title back on Cena, I introduce prickly heat between Cena and Flair over this little incident, have it lead to a Cena/Flair micro-feud, have that lead to a Flair/HHH Reunion, and then go ahead with Cena/HHH at Mania 22, just with HHH (with Flair) as Tweeners (representing most grown up wrestling fans) and Cena as a Tweener (representing adolescent tossers and misguided fangirls).

That could definitely work. Then again: so could a title unification storyline, with Edge vs. Angle. Or a title unification storyline with Michaels relieving Edge of the title, via some means in the next two months, and then HE challenges Angle at Mania. Point is: now that WWE actually gave Edge a week in which to be taken seriously, things are interesting again on this Road to WrestleMania. I still have no clue what to really expect, but I'm jonsing for next week's show in a way that I haven't anticipated a Monday night in a while. Hell, even checking out SD! this weekend has taken on a greater significance, since seeing what they do with Angle should be interesting.

So Good RAW. Sorry about yer damned luck if you missed it. And one that sets the stage for more potential gOOdness in coming days and weeks. Unless the ratings come in, and suck, and convince the morons at Titan Tower that this proves that America wants More Live Sex and Nipslips, and less Actually Good TV. We shall see...