Opening and Stuff: We are LIVE~! (taped) from Greensboro, North Carolina. Cold open to Mr. Stephanie McMahon. Trips is dressed in his battle gear, so we’re not going to have to sit through a 50-minute promo. Yay for us! This is a semi-final match in the tournament to see who goes to Wrestlemania 22, so he’ll soon be facing the Big Show.

After the water spit, Coach and Joey decide to remind us of the upcoming Shawn Michaels retirement party, which I’m so totally sure will be the greatest skit ever, especially because it will contain Vince McMahon in-character. I can’t contain my excitement!

And now… Big Show’s coming out? Really? I expected the RAW theme music to fire up. Ah well.

Standard big man offense from Show to open, including a few Shh-Chops and a military press. With Trips down on his face in the middle of the ring, Show also decides to put all his weight into Trips’s left hand. Is this revenge for Trips breaking Show’s hand weeks ago? If it is, the announcers aren’t putting two and two together… not that that’s surprising by any means.

The hand quickly becomes the story of the match as Big Show smacks the hand against the turnbuckle, and even essenetially military presses Trips over his head by his hand only. Ouch. And now, Joey Styles brings up that this may be revenge. Hey look! Someone on the announcing crew has a clue!

More hand-related offense, followed by back-related offense, followed by Trips getting tossed over the rope. Current offense move count: Triple H, 2; Big Show, 300. Trips manages to give Show a push into the outside turnbuckle, which gives us an early crimson match. The ref pauses his countout as Trips gets back in the ring, although he’s having trouble standing. Big Show down, Trips down, you know what that means.

Triple H is now in control, punching the cut and bloodying his wrist wraps. Knee drop to the forehead, punch to the forehead, rinse repeat… until Show decides enough of that, and lands an Inverted Manhattan Drop from nowhere. This gives Show a boost, and he starts his comeback. Slam, slam, miss… Trips to his feet, although he walks into a chokeslam. Trips goes up, but comes down with Show’s head. I love seeing DDTs used to reverse moves.

Near-fall on Big Show, and they go back and forth for a moment, until Trips manages to land a slightly (but understandable) awkward Pedigree… but Show kicks out! Show knows he needs to do something, so he does a wicked move that, if you’ll pardon me for not knowing the name, essentially holds Triple H behind him, and slams him to the ground, wedging the Game between his back and the canvas.

Show’s too weak for a pin, but Triple H only gets one move in before getting into another chokeslam. Trips channels Ric Flair, and gives a thumb to the eye… but Show managed to land a chokeslam anyway. Pin, but Trips’s foot is on the rope. The crowd is pretty fired up, louder than I’ve heard them in awhile.

They decide to slow things down a notch by taking it outside. Show slams Trips on the barrier, follows up with a Shh-Chop, and chucks him into the stairs. His momentum is stopped by a low blow by Triple H. Jerk.

Trips tries to re-enter the ring, but Big Show just half-chokeslams him off. And… the ref calls for the bell? Ladies and gentlemen, we have a countout! Which makes the crowd none too pleased.

Your winner after about 12 minutes: nobody. Triple H doesn’t want to stop though, so he instigates a little more brawling outside. He gets on the wrong end of the fists, so Show sets up the announce table. Trips blocks whatever he was going to do, then grabs a chair. Show defends against this by essentially Spearing Trips through the barrier. Trips takes the move sickly, laying that he looks like his spine was relocated to the concession stand. A nice visual, and Show walks up the ramp to his music and the crowd chanting his name. Officials pour from the back to check on the broken Game.

A very entertaining match out of the gate, and advancing the story nicely. Triple H was looking like Big Show’s bitch for most of the match, which is a welcome change. Definitely not a workrate way to start things off, but if you get the crowd that hot, who gives a shit? They never lagged, as some big-man/power matches do. Also: Big Show, standing victorious in the final tackle despite his face coated in his own blood? Kick ass visual. Damn, did I pick a good week to recap RAW.

Tear-Jerking Honesty? Or Just Emotional Manipulation?: We’re greeted back with a clip from 1997, with Shawn giving his “I lost my smile, so I’m outta here” speech. Plenty of cuts to the females in the audience who are having the worst day of their lives because of this. The point? We’re going to have the mandatory retirement party! Since you so totally didn’t remember that was coming!

The announcers kill some time talking about “moments ago,” including telling us that there will be no rematch. This means whoever wins between Chris F. Masters and Rob V. Dam later tonight will essentially get a bye, and move on into the main event. Huh. I wonder how long that logic is going to last.

Meanwhile, Backstage: Vince McMahon is talking with some lawyers or something about the Heartbreak Kid, and my boy Todd Grisham decides to come in and ask Vince what, you know, is up with the Road to Wrestlemania tournament? Is there really a bye match? Of course not! Wow, that only took ten seconds. Vince: “You saw two individuals who didn’t win. I saw two individuals who didn’t lose.” Nice.

Vince’s solution? We’re redrawing the brackets. Next week, we’ll have Big Show and Triple H in a triple threat match against whoever wins between CFM and RVD. Huh. I actually like that. So far, WWE has done nothing but make me smile, so maybe this whole recapping gig won’t be so bad.

Same Room, Different Visitor: Whoops, spoke too soon. Looks like Mama Benjamin is in the house. Her son is there too, not that you’d know, since they put him behind the other two and keep him silent. Way to use SB’s talents to his full effectiveness.

Anyway, Mama B wants Shelton to compete for the Intercontinental Title. It takes some of Mama’s guilt tripping and face caressing to give Vince to cave, although he only goes halfway. Shelton takes on Eugene tonight, and if he wins, he becomes the IC #1 contender. That doesn’t make the most sense in the world, but whatever.

Elsewhere Backstage: Mick “I hate the word ‘blog’” Foley is in his trademark ref shirt, singing a ditty to prepare himself. The camera pans to breasts, which happen to be attached to Lita, who is in turn attached to Edge. Lita is in her full-on False Modesty Mode, running her hands everywhere on Mick’s body and hair because Mick has so totally lost weight and become buff. Mick, naturally, plays along with this; who wouldn’t?

Lita makes a mistake though when she mentions how awesome Mick’s books are, as she proves too illiterate (read: stupid) to remember anything about it. Edge decides that the game is over, so he just gets in Mick’s face and does the standard “Don’t screw me over” demand. Mick tells him not to worry, since one of Mick’s finest career moments was when he was the special ref at Wrestlemania 15 and counted for Austin to win the belt over the Rock.

Edge interprets this that Mick wants to see a new champion. Mick educates Edge that no, he quite frankly think Edge is a piss-poor example of a wrestler, and in fact is a big fan of Hacksaw Jim Duggan, whom of course Edge beat the shit out of last week. But it’s all good, because Mick will call this match down the middle. Edge tells him that he better, because if he doesn’t, it will be the biggest mistake ever. Mick privately thinks to himself, “No, that would be when I agreed to job to Randy Orton two years ago,” but instead just settles on saying “Have a nice day.” Edge takes his slut and leaves without a word.

Finally, a match! Shelton enters, rolling his mom down the ram as he goes. Before we see Eugene, we see the clip from last week where Eugene mistook Mama B for Eddie Murphy. Yeah, I can see the resemblance: both have no business in their respective mediums.

Eugene’s music hits, and he’s got some Valentine’s Day candy in a pink heart box for Mama B. Mama don’t want none of that, so Shelton slide out of the ring and slaps the candy box out of Eugene’s hand. Poor Eugene wants to clean up the mess he didn’t make, and gets kicked in the head a couple times for it. Shelton throws Eugene in the ring, and it’s on.

Shelton decides to open the match by bashing Eugene’s head into the turnbuckle. Who’s the retard in this match, again? A couple moves later, Eugene makes the first near-fall by hitting a Bridging Northern Lights Suplex as a counter-counter-counter. Sweet stuff, and I don’t mean that candy at ringside.

Shelton quickly gets momentum back after nailing a Samoan Drop, followed by a T-Bone Suplex. 1, 2, 3. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

Your winner after 90 seconds: Shelton Benjamin. Do you hear that silence? That’s the crowd, wondering why the hell the match didn’t last nearly as long as it could or should have. Yet another waste of two men’s talents. For shame, WWE!

After the match: Shelton gets a mic, thanks his mom and the academy for this wonderful turn of events, and says ain’t no one going to call him a mama’s boy. This gooses some of the crowd to chant “mama’s boy,” but it peters out after about three repetitions. Nobody cares. Nobody cares about the rest of his words, which amount to, “I’m gonna beat Flair, WOO!!!!” Even that doesn’t get much reaction from the crowd.

HBK Clip Again: Trips and HBK comment on the incident when they, Razor Ramon, and Diesel had their tender moment at a house show. HBK then gets out of the ring, taunts Vince, and that’s that for the clip.

(In case you don’t know what the hell I’m talking about, suffice to say that Trips got in trouble for breaking kayfabe, when HBK received no punishment and the other two jumped to WCW. I never realized Shawn did a shwork about it, though.)

Clevageville, Population: Ashley: Ashley is getting ready for some match she’s doing, and as she buckles the front of her very-stretched-out top, idiot 12-year-old boys the country become a few inches longer. I shouldn’t be surprised, but she looks like she’s grown a couple sizes since last week. Gah, whatever. Bring back Gail Kim, and get Ashley the hell off my TV.

Jeff J. Snider brought up an interesting point to me many years ago. A song can be catchy and still be shitty in context. I’m one of the losers on Rick’s shit list who thinks Scott Stapp’s/Alter Bridge’s/Creed’s music doesn’t blow; I like that kind of moody slow rock. Not the lyrics, but the music itself, especially as background music when I’m writing or something. It helps me focus. Anyway, Ashley’s entrance theme always gets stuck in my head, although I agree with Rick that it’s just not in-character for her.

This digression brought to you by MTV: Music For Idiots. (Don’t worry, I’m not all bad; I still think Iron Maiden trumps damn near everyone else.)

Anyway, soon after Ashley gets settled, three bitches come from the back. Namely, Torrie Wilson, Boobies McTitsalot, and the dog I don’t remember the name of. Hm… which one has the highest IQ among the three? Insert your own punch line here.

Instead of showing the entrance of the divas, we see a clip of Boobies’s visit to Jay Leno’s set. Lawler is, of course, at his most pre-pubescent, and Coach is joining in. Joey is, thankfully, staying the hell out of it.

Boobies takes the dog and exits the ring, just as the bell sounds. Torrie delivers a kick to Ashley, which is enough to send her flying ten feet and through the ropes, although she’s dragged back in immediately. Hair pulling this, dog-ass-in-the-face that… Sigh. This is about as sexy as two naked hairy men competing for who can make spew the biggest, wettest, phlemiest loogie.

Ass spanking by Torrie, then a throw to the ropes. Ashley attempts a Samoan Roll into a Schoolboy Pin, but does it in three distinct moves: 1. Ashley stops moving to position herself behind Torrie; 2. Ashley attempts to jump up so Torrie can grab her, but ends up falling on her ass; 3. Ashley says fuck it and just does a Schoolboy Pin anyway. The crowd was at their loudest when all of four people booed at this point. 1, 2, 3. That was so not a waste of my time.

Your winner after 45 seconds: Ashley. Tell me again why Gail Kim and Molly Holly were fired?

After the match: Dear god, Boobies found a microphone. She assures Torrie that her losing is okay, because Boobies’s boobies will be all over Playboy next month! By that logic, the Seahawks shouldn’t mind losing the Super Bowl because Rick talks about liking the Reds in his columns. See? It doesn’t make a lick of sense. Also: she uses a non-wrestling show to announce she’ll be competing for the title belt, but uses the wrestling show to announce activities that have nothing to do with wrestling. What kind of Bizarro World is this, Canada?

The crowd meanwhile, to my amusement, still doesn’t give a fuck. Aside from a couple of obviously obligatory woo’s and even a couple boos, they don’t say a damn thing.

But Boobies wants to be naked now, she says, so she takes off her robe, which was already 99% open anyway. She reveals an overly sequined red bikini, which, again, was visible during this whole abortion known as a wrestling match. The crowd doesn’t even bother giving her a courtesy woo, and just stays silent as she prances around the ring. Good lord, you’d think Chris Masters just came into the ring and tried to read A Tale of Two Cities. Apparently satisfied that she “took it all off” as she promised she would, she and Torrie leave. To silence. Heh, idiot.

HBK Clip #3: This one from only a couple months ago, where Shawn tells Vince to just get over Montreal. I honestly wonder just how much the real Shawn really has let it go… and how much the real Bret Hart really has let it go. But anyway, the retirement party will begin after these…

Through The Bullshit: The Vince McMahon Edition: The ring is covered in black, with a table, chairs, and actors-who-are-posing-as-lawyers decorating the ring. No Chance In Hell, and here comes Vinny Mac. He grabs a mic, and proceeds to effectively say this…

“Tonight, right here, tonight, right here, in this ring, tonight, history will be made. This will be the last time Shawn is in WWE. Not only that, this will be the last time Shawn is in WWE. So, let’s get Shawn down here, because this will be the last time Shawn is in WWE. So come on out, Shawn! Because you’re Shawn Michaels! So come on out, Shawn Michaels! Because you’re Shawn Michaels! Ladies and gentlemen, Shawn Michaels!”

Shawn hits the ring, but Vince isn’t done talking.

“Shawn, you don’t look happy. Shawn, why aren’t you happy? Shawn, you wanted this, so you should be happy. Shawn, you don’t look happy. Shawn, you should be happy. Shawn, I’ll make you happy. Because you’ve done a lot. Not only that, you’ve done a lot. And, in WWE, you’ve done a lot. And you’ve done so much, I’ll show a video tribute. No wait, I changed my mind. Shawn, all the stars from both rosters will shake your hand! No wait, I changed my mind. Shawn, your family is here! No wait, I changed my mind.”

Ramble ramble… the punch line is that HBK gets to watch the Spirit Squad. The cheer tells Shawn to apply his lips directly to Vince’s posterior, then they all leave.

Shawn is visually pissed as Vince continues to blather, which includes getting some cheap heat by insulting the crowd. Vince has had enough of this, so he wants the contract. It takes both lawyers’ combined effort to open the briefcase and hand Vince the contract, I shit you not. Vince then produces a pen, and tells Shawn to get to the signing.

Shawn has another idea, and finds a microphone of his own instead. The erupting chants of his name delays the start of his monologue, but he finally gets to it. He half-apologizes to Vince for being an asshole years ago, but declares that he doesn’t want to retire. Vince’s reaction is to cut Shawn’s mic. Nice and mature, that Vince.

Vince orders Shawn to sign the papers again. Shawn reads over the contract, thinks, reads, thinks… come on, get on with it. Shawn looks around at the crowd, decides to pull a Steve Austin, stands, and mouths “No way” at Vince.

Vince doesn’t like that, so he gets in Shawn’s face. Shawn grabs Vince’s mic, declares that he’s going to stay whether Vince likes it or not, and that he loves wrestling too damn much to walk away. To walk away from the ring and the people, Shawn says, would be walking away from one of his greatest joys ever (EVER!). So it ain’t happening.

Vince snatches the mic back, then takes a nice long jump off the Cliffs of Reasonability. He says that the reason he’s been screwing with Shawn this whole time is because Shawn has something Vince doesn’t: an inner peace that that tells Shawn what to do and what he wants. In Rick vernacular, Vince apparently wants Shawn’s The Jesus. See, Vince doesn’t always know who he is or what he wants, although Vince is High On Life and wants more and more.

The world’s smallest violin plays as Vince sobs how hard his life is, running his empire with its stockholders and sponsors and employees. Vince’s life is a nightmare, he says! But it will all be better when Shawn signs the papers, because Vince hates people like Shawn, since Shawn is peaceful and Vince never can be. Oooookaaaaay.

Shawn takes the papers, shuffles them, teases a signature, then tears them in half in front of Vince. Vince slaps Shawn, Shawn overturns the table, and the lawyers bail. As Shawn removes his suit jacket and dress shirt, Vince bails too. At the top of the ramp, Vince hits the [sarcasm]greatest[/sarcasm] punch line ever: “When you tore up those retirement papers Shawn, you opened up the floodgates of your own… personal… HELL~!” Wow. I’m so terrified on behalf of HBK.

Okay, so, what did this segment do aside from wasting ten minutes of time? Shawn didn’t change or do anything unexpected, Vince didn’t do anything unexpected, Vince revealed a totally out-of-character and pointless trait that doesn’t make any sense, and they ruined several good sheets of paper. Come on guys, save a tree next time.

Time Filler: We’re back, just to see what we just saw, followed by a “major announcement” that Bret Hart will be in attendance for the WWE Hall of Fame induction on April 1. Dig it.

Entrances. Yawn.

Slow to start, with a few tie-ups. The crowd is showing so much apathy that when CFM steals the RVD taunt, the crowd doesn’t care. They start up a half-hearted “Rob Van Dam” chant, but they just can’t get into it.

RVD hits his standard somewhat-aerial offense, including kicks and a flying crossbody from the middle rope. This takes enough out of RVD for CFM to start up, which he does so with a couple punches. RVD ends up on the apron, and CFM bounces off the opposite ropes to shoulder check RVD all the way to the barrier and into the first row. Now, see, there’s a perfect example of the “victim” doing that little extra to make his opponent look good.

RVD managed to get back the ring, but walks into a Torture Rack. Crowd woke up for a second when RVD visited the first row, but they’re asleep again. RVD manages to get a near-fall with a rollup, delivers a pair of high-flying kicks and the Rolling Thunder. Crowd still doesn’t care, but Lawler is trying to point out to us that RVD’s knee is hurt. Hmm…

RVD goes to the top, but gets crotched as CFM pops up a little too quickly from the Rolling Thunder. A little combat on the top turn buckle drops CFM to the middle of the ring. Five-star Frog Splash, pin count, it’s done.

Your winner after 3 minutes: Rob Van Dam. The finish looked a little fucked up… RVD kind of fell off the top rope when CFM fell off too, but I don’t think RVD was supposed to. Regardless, CFM did nothing, RVD did everything, and the crowd still couldn’t care less. RVD did all right, I guess; you can’t expect much when your opponent belongs down in the lowest sections of the card.

From Douches ‘R’ Us: Trish’s date from last week-hereafter referred to as “The character that Rick most desperately wants to both be and beat simultaneously”-appears with some flowers. He finds Trish’s locker room, and knocks on the door. She summons him in, and standing there we see from the back a girl wearing what is quite obviously a blond wig. Mr. Douche can’t tell that’s she’s a fake until she turns around. Surprise! It’s Mickie James! Who in the world saw that swerve coming? I’m so shocked!

Mickie is decked out in the black leather pants and white partially sparkly tank top of Trish’s. She happily takes the flowers, thanks Mr. Douche, and gives him a little smile. Mr. Douche plays 20 questions, wanting to know what Mickie is doing, where Trish is, what Mickie is doing, and what Mickie is doing. Mickie puts the flowers down, and asks why Mr. Douche is so resistant when she so totally looks like Trish, and obviously Mr. Douche so totally wants girls who look like Trish, so totally.

Mickie says that she’s Trish’s best friend, and friends share, so pucker up. Mr. Douche channels his elementary school classmates, and says verbatim: “Mickie, what are you doing? You know I like Trish! I know we haven’t been dating long, but I really want it work out with her!” This reminds me of every program the WB has ever released.

Mickie asks, if Mr. Douche likes Trish so much, why is he hitting on Mickie herself? And while Mr. Douche stands there dumbfounded, Mickie pulls off the wig, musses her hair, and starts screaming rape. Mr. Douche, instead of rolling his eyes and leaving, grabs Mickie just as-what a coincidence-a cop walks in. The cop grabs Mr. Douche and walks out, not bothering to ask if Mickie is all right. Once the cop is out the room, Mickie stops screaming and crying, looks up to the ceiling, and smiles evilly.

You know, there had to be a hundred good ways to show Mickie showing her first signs of being truly psycho, and this wasn’t any of them.

Dancing With The Stars Recap: I don’t recap recaps, I don’t recap crap, and I especially don’t recap recaps of crap.

Back At Club Douche: Mickie is in a chair, and has resumed crying. The cop, or Douche #2 in this little play, decides that the best course of action is to offer Mickie bottled water. I guess taking a statement would be too much, you know, work.

Trish materializes, to which the crowd pops. Mickie retells the whole sordid affair between her and Mr. Douche, with her own embellishment, of course. In one of the few not-entirely retarded moments of this pathetic waste of time, Mickie turns around the words she used before the break. Mickie says, “He said, ‘You’re Trish’s best friend and friends share!’” So, hey, there’s a silver lining: that little part wasn’t entirely un-clever.

Speaking of un-clever, Trish decides to take Mickie’s word as gospel. Officer Douche says that it’s true, and as he talks, he flicks his eyes to the cameraman. FOURTH WALL!!! YOU’RE BREAKING THE FOURTH WALL!!! But that’s ignored, and Trish apologizes for Mr. Douche’s existence. Mickie cries that she’s happy it happened to her and not Trish, and they hug tenderly as only potential rape victims can.

Tune in next week, for these are the Drags of Our Lives.

More Filler: The announcers repeat the storyline advancements of the night. I don’t recap recaps of crap I’ve already recapped.

Even More Filler: The storyline of John Cena and Edge from New Year’s Revolution to last week’s RAW. I don’t recap recaps of crap Rick already recapped.

Car crash, music, Mick Foley, bang-bang, crowd pop, ads.

Challenger in first with his arm candy, who, like Ashley, is wearing something to enhance the size of the orbs. Yay, and shit.

Girls chant “Cena, Cena,” who waits for a year before the music. Girl squeals, male kid cheers, male adult indifference. Ouch. While he does his entrance, we see that Cena is to India as Bret Hart was to Germany. There’s the solution to keep Cena popular: ship him to Abu Dhabi.

[Aside: Remember I’ve been saying that Cena hadn’t annoyed me yet, and I was still one of his fans, just because I was hoping against hope his character would get the rehabilitation we fans and the actor John Cena deserved? Well, his status to me has been downgraded from “hopeful” to “indifferent.” I didn’t consciously realize it until today, but I guess I don’t really care like I once did. I’m sure my girlfriend still wants to freestyle on his mic, but she hasn’t seen RAW for three months either.]

Cena chucks his hat into the crowd, but even that doesn’t earn squeals. Well, then the shirt comes off, and that does it. Why the hell am I bothering to recap that?

Bell rings, here we go… tie up for 30 seconds, headlock for 10 seconds, Shoulderblock. Cena thinks that one move can get a win, so he makes a pin. Nope… two more moves, one more pin, one more kickout, and Cena puts on a resthold. Sigh.

Edge bails out of the ring once he’s free. He gets the magical healing powers of Lita’s lips as we go to…

We’re back just in time to see Cena hit a flying crossbody, although Edge no-sells it and clotheslines for a counter. Edge is in control for one second, and then Cena counters a couple times for a Fisherman’s Suplex. Cena only gets a two-count pin, so he applies another resthold. Two variations of chinlocks in the main event… great.

Edge takes control with a couple hard punches, tries a pin, gets two. He nails Cena with a sharp kick to the gut, then steals Cena’s taunt. This gives Cena time to recover, and he beats on Edge for two seconds, when Edge does a nifty counter that looked a little like HBK’s Flying Burrito, without the flair.

Edge still in control, crotches Cena on the turnbuckle, and sets up the champ for a superplex. Cena pushes Edge away, but gets a punch to the temple for his trouble. Cena’s feet hook the turnbuckle, so he doesn’t fall; this leads Edge to try again. He hops up, readies a superplex, but again Cena pushed Edge off. This time, Edge hits the mat, and Cena lands a big splash from the top rope. 1, 2, kickout.

At this point, Coach blathers about the psychology that Cena should have stayed in the States to prepare for this match instead of going to India last week, because now his body is tired. It would sound far more convincing coming out of Joey’s mouth, but whatever. Cena does a snap suplex as the crowd gets so bored that some idiot starts shining a laser pointer on Edge. Near-fall for a two-count.

Edge is desperate, so he tells Lita to undo the turnbuckle pad in the far corner. As Edge and Cena whack each other in the opposite corner, Mick discovers the magic of cameras and sees what Lita is doing on the Titantron. Mick stops that, and Cena stops pounding on Edge long enough to come over and investigate as well. Lita re-ties the pad, pleading that she was just, you know, making sure it was tied and up to WWE regulations. Because she’s so honest. Mick smiles, and ejects her from ringside. Cena has an orgasm to his turn of events and dances around the ring like the wigger that he is. Lita’s ejection, oddly, gets the crowd more fired up since the opening match.

Lita stands indignantly on the ramp, protesting the whole time. Edge protests as well as Cena leads the crowd in the “Hey hey hey, goodbye” song. Because Mick has fallen asleep and is not counting out Edge, everyone decides this is a good time for some…

We’re back, and Cena is out of the ring holding his ribs. We see due to a dual-feature that Edge back suplexed Cena onto the barrier. Ouch.

Cena eats a baseball slide by Edge, then gets tossed back in the ring. Edge pins Cena, Mick delays two seconds before getting into position, and Cena kicks out at two. Coach flips about how unfair Mick just was, but Mick replies with, “My bad Coach, I was late on that,” loud enough that the announcers’ headsets picked it up. Coach shuts up, because you can mock someone who admitted a mistake, or something.

Anyway, Cena tries a comeback, but ends up running into a sleeper. Edge jumps entirely on Cena’s back, and Cena slowly collapses. Edge keeps on the sleeper with the scissors, but it’s enough to squelch the power of the fans’ chants. Cena gets to his feet and falls back, breaking the hold.

Both men to their feet, and Cena nails a few upper-tier quick moves. It’s only good for a two-count, and a kick to Cena’s face give Edge time to climb the turnbuckle. Crowd is getting into it as Cena jumps up and readies a top-rope FU. Edge somehow snakes out of that, getting to the canvas, and powerbombing Cena to the mat. Edge makes a pin, using the ropes for extra leverage, but no dice: Mick catches this and stops the count at two.

Edge argues like an idiot, and pushes Mick. Mick pushes back, right into a German Suplex by Cena. Five Knuckle Shuffle, FU… no, wait, the FU is countered to a DDT. 1, 2, kickout. Crowd’s pretty hot, all things considered, although they still seemed to like the first match better.

Cena to his feet, followed a second later by Edge. Edge attempts a Spear; Cena side-steps it, but Edge does not fly into the ring post as he normally does. Cena gets Edge for another FU attempt, but Edge snakes out of it and pushes Cena into Mick. Because Mick is wearing stripes, this has the effect of dazing him instead of, well, doing nothing. Mick turns his back on the action, and takes a forearm to his back for it.

Mick is unconscious outside the ring, and Cena applies the STF. Edge taps, but ain’t no one around to hear it. Lita returns from nowhere, and plants a forearm to Cena’s back. This breaks the hold, although Cena did so willingly. While distracted by the skank, Edge pops up and pushes Cena against the turnbuckle.

Lita tosses in the belt, and Edge blasts Cena just as Mick regains consciousness. Mick’s back is still turned as he’s outside the ring, and he doesn’t see it. Edge flings the belt out of the ring while Lita flings Mick into it. Cover by Edge, but only nets a two-count. Edge says fuck this, goes to the top rope, and tries a crossbody. Cena catches him, puts him on his shoulders, plants an FU, and it’s over.

Your winner after just shy of 20 minutes counting commercials, and still champion to no one’s surprise: John Cena. Slow to start, but the action did pick up after the final commercial break, so it wasn’t a complete wash. Of course, it wasn’t like the outcome was in doubt, but it was a somewhat fun way to get there.

After the match: Cena grabs his belt, hugs a few morons in the crowd, then heads up the ramp. Well, that was exciting.

Edge is furious, and starts bitching at Mick. Mick argues back, and takes a Lita low blow from behind. He doubles over in pain, eats a Spear, and is finished. Edge is not, and screams that it’s all Mick’s fault that Edge isn’t wearing gold. This is enough action that the sound guy kicks on Edge’s music. And… that’s it. Man, they rushed the ending a bit.

Closing Comments: Meh. RAW had a great, hot start, and completely tapered off toward the end. The Benjamins and Eugene: Why? Three bitches and Ashley: Why? Mr. Douche, Officer Douche, and the two ring-capable women: Why? CFM and RVD: Why? Cena and Edge? Why?

Okay, so the storylines were all technically advanced, but let’s be realistic here. We knew where Cena/Edge was going. We knew where Vince/HBK was going. Your grandmother could have come up with a better story for Shelton/Eugene. My grandmother could have come up with a better story for Trish/Mickie. And Masters… well, he was just plain boring.

The first match was the best segment as far as entertainment goes, and came to a pretty unexpected conclusion. The rest… meh. Just, meh.

See you for Team Coverage work this weekend, folks. I’m out.