DAG, YO. The Immolator here. Welcome to yet another WWE SmackDown! recap. Wheeeeee! Say it, it feels good. Wheeeeee!

You can put Immo out to pasture now. I had a beer in front of me the other night… and I didn’t want to drink it. I just didn’t feel like it. The horror. The horror.

Let’s get on with it, then. We start with the same recap of last week’s Heck in the Seck match that ran on Heat. Theme up, beautiful people lying with pigs, et al.

We’re taped! at the Molson Centre in downtown Montreal, Quebec, Canada. Sign in the crowd: “Vince Save our Expos.” Alas.

Oh, a quick reminder, in case you forgot: Montreal is Hogan town. Montreal is, in many ways, stuck in the mid-1980s. I’m talking Samantha Fox, purple lights under the car, John Holmes moustaches, you name it. In Montreal, Youppi! will never die, and neither will Hogan; both big and orange and runnin’ wild on you. Toronto is a close second, but their brand of Hulkamania is more of a nostalgia kick, I believe. Montreal lives and breathes red and yellow, mon frere.

Lemmy sez: “Eye for eye, tooth for tooth…” More relevantly, on SD! he sez “Time to play The Game,” which yields TRIPLE H. THAR HE BLOWS! Seven minutes into the show, he finally talks.

HHH:  “You know, Vince McMahon just doesn't get it, does he? (BOO!) Vince, you just don't get it! You think that you can knock me down and I'm just gonna go away? (BOO!) You think you can send six guys to this ring to kick my a(beep), you think you can send Chris Jericho with a steel chair to split my skull? You think that you can book me in the most brutal match ever devised, and you think that I'm just gonna go away? (BOO!) You think that I'm just going to curl my tail up between my legs and scurry off? Reality is, Vince... here I am! (YAY!) And that's the way it is today! The way it will be tomorrow! And the way it will be forever! Vince, you knock me down, I am gonna get right back up and get in your face! And every single time I get up, I'm gonna get that much closer to you, Vince! And sooner or later, I'm gonna get close enough. And when I do, I am gonna chew you up and spit you out! (TRIPLE H! TRIPLE H!) This Sunday -- this Sunday I am gonna take Chris Jericho straight to hell! And Jericho, since you've never been there before, I'd like to give you a little taste. So if you've got the guts, why don't you come down to this ring, Jericho! I will give you a firsthand feeling of what it's gonna be like Sunday in "Hell in a Cell"! The pain that you can expect! Because Jericho, come on down to this ring, we'll consider this purgatory! And tonight you can start to burn!”

You think you know me. GAKAKAGAKKPHTPHPHT! The only thing burning right now is my corneas. Must be EDGE in the house. He’s pissed.

E:  “You know, Triple H, that was a very stirring speech. But you failed to mention one very important point. (QUOI?!) That you came down there and you hit all of us with a sledgehammer! (QUOI?!) Now being one of those guys that you hit with a sledgehammer (QUOI?!) let me just say that I didn't exactly enjoy it! (QUOI?!) You know, you're supposed to be a good guy and I'm supposed to be a good guy. Good guys usually don't have problems with each other. (QUOI?!) But to be blunt about it, (QUOI?!) I don't give a crap! (QUOI?! YAY!) Now, on Sunday you may take Jericho down to hell. (QUOI?!) And I will definitely shave Kurt Angle bald. (QUOI?! YAY!) But I've been having this feeling in my stomach. It's kind of been boiling. It's been bubbling in the pit of my stomach. I've been feeling pretty competitive since last week. I've been feeling like I want to play The Game!”

It’s a hot Montreal crowd, yassuh. Except they still feel the need to mix in the canned stuff, which looks really stupid when nobody is visibly cheering. Nonetheless, our two heroes go nose-to-nose for a long-distance staredown.

HHH:  “Let me explain something to you: I am a lot of things! I am everything that I say I am! But the one thing that I definitely am not, is a good guy! So if you feel like playing The Game… Jack, I'm standing right here.”

He yam what he yam. Edge, favouring the discourse of phenomenology, wallops Haitch with a right. A donnybrook ensues, both men getting the measure of one another… until KURT ANGLE and CHRIS JERICHO come in and attack both men. Belly-to-back by Angle on Edge. H fights back against Angle, but Y2J comes from behind with the Golotta. H falls outside the ring. SPEAR by Angle on Edge! Nice. Angle back outside the ring, he and Y2J double Irish Whip HHH into the unforgiving steel steps. Now both heels are in the ring. Jericho holds Edge while Angle produces… a pair of scissors! He’s cutting off a lock of Edge’s hair! Ho-HO! Angle brandishes his prize to the crowd. Then the heels bail when H runs into the ring with a steel chair. Play the barber’s music! NO, not the Barber of Seville. I’m talking The Theme to You Suque. C’est vrai, c’est vrai. Fin de segment, dere.

Cool. More heat for the PPV. Notice how well SD! is being written compared to RAW? How’d that happen? RAW has the advantage of more swearing and T&A, and they can’t keep up. Strange.

When we come back, since you have no short-term memory, you get to see what just happened again, in replay form. That must have hurt when Angle cut/tore Edge’s hair.

Meanwhile, in Jean Beliveau’s office, MR. MCMAHON is checking out STACY KEIBLER, who is wearing a black silk robe. Yum.

VKM:  “I have a feeling you're gonna knock ‘em dead in the swimsuit competition tonight. I know you’re going to be victorious. I just wonder if I could have a little sneak peek?”

SK:  “Sure.”

VKM:  “Thank you very much, Stacy.”

Stacy opens up her robe, facing away from the camera, of course. Vince has another one of those, um, moments.

VKM:  “You're gonna wear that little thing out there?”

SK:  “Yep.”

VKM:  “Well, what if I were to give those pups a little nuzzle for good luck?”

SK:  “Okay.”

Vinnie Mac’s going in for the kill! But, once again, he is rudely interrupted by Jericho, this time with Angle at this side.

CJ:  “Vince. did you see that! It was gorgeous! Did you see what we just did?

KA:  “I just cut Edge's hair! It was awesome!”

VKM:  “You what?”

KA:  “Cut his hair off! You didn’t see it?”

VKM:  “How did you cut his hair off?”

CJ:  “You didn't see us beat the hell out of Triple H and Edge five minutes ago? You know what happened to those two guys, their egos were too big. They were fighting in the middle of the ring like a couple five-year-old kids.”

KA:  “And we jumped them! And I got Edge’s hair!”

VKM:  “Congratulations!”

CJ:  “Masters of manipulation that we are, we took advantage, Vince, and we beat ‘em down…”

KA:  “Like a team.”

VKM:  “Well, tonight will be a night for fun. And you guys, you have your fun as well. So why don't we make a tag team match here tonight. Why don’t we see the two of you team up against Triple H and Edge.”

KA:  “All right! Oh, we're gonna kick their butts again.”

VKM:  “If they're not getting along, it's gonna be your night. Have some fun, guys. Excuse me for a moment…”

Vince tries to get back to business, but not before Kurt sticks his head back in and says good-bye to Stacy. Yar.

Somebody’s music is playing. Ah, it’s LANCE STORM from Calgary, Alberta, Canada. Looks like we get some wrestling tonight after all. Dig the way he enters the ring.

How ya like me now? HARDCORE HOLLY, no longer well over 400 pounds, is Storm’s partner today. This, of course, stems from last week’s Storm-Orton match.

Hellooo, ladies. THE BIG VALBOWSKI makes his entrance, sans towel because we need to save time. The Ace Mechanic Cowboy Henchman’s kid, RANDY ORTON, joins him to a can of pop.

Yay, wrestling! Orton rushes the ring, into the waiting clutches of Storm. Forearms to the back of the head. Irish, Storm goes for a dropkick, but Orton hangs onto the ropes as Storm pancakes… but Holly clotheslines Orton from the apron. Tag. Holly with a kick to the gut. And another. Three chops in the corner, Orton reverses, chops and Euro uppercuts. And a shot for the approaching Storm, knocking him off the apron, but also allowing Holly to mount a comeback. Forearms to the back. Irish, Best Dropkick in the Business! Irish, Holly ducks, Orton leapfrogs, Entirely Passable Dropkick for this Business! Both men are down. Hot tag to both sides. Val clocks Storm. And again. Off the ropes, running clothesline. Irish, BIG back body drop. Holly interjects with an Irish, but Val reverses with the arm wringer and suplexes Holly with what my Unnamed Sources tell me is his version of Jun Akiyama’s Blue Thunder suplex. Starts off as a back suplex, becomes a sit-out powerbomb. Good stuff. SPINEbuster for the incoming Storm. Val gesticulates to Orton to got to the top. Tag. Val takes care of Holly outside while Orton FLIES with the cross body… two count only! Lance tries to fight back with a clothesline, Orton ducks, boot to the gut… a modified Rocker Dropper with the extra move of twisting Storm so he lands supine instead of prostrate. Interesting, if not convincing. Looks like Storm has to twist himself to make it work. Holly makes the save at two. Val clears him out the other side of the ring. Storm slips out of a slam attempt during a bad cut to Val and Holly, and nails the savate kick to the mush. Storm with the lazy cover, counting along with the ref… Orton rolls him up, grabs the tights, and gets the duke. (2:15). Storm is beside himself. Tazz says Stom’s cover was “lax-a-dasical.” I knew it, Tazz isn’t from Red Hook, he’s from Indiana.

Let’s have a look at what happened on THE COMPETITION. Hulk takes a Magic Carpet Ride courtesy of The Underbiker. Rug burns and the WWE go hand in hand, f’nar f’nar. Earlier tonight! Hogan came limping into Molson Centre. Kind of like Richard Zednik… okay, I’m not bitter. 24 Cups… 24 Cups… end of segment.

Jared slams down another high-carb sub. They’re ok, but you have to get double meat and just eat a 6-inch. And lay off the mayo. NOOOO, don’t eat the gourmet cookies! Look at you! You said you were just coming in here to get the Johnny Bravo toy! Aw, man… oh, sorry. Slam of the Week was Torrie. Heh heh. Heh heh heh. Heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh. Ahem. 

Back to live action, TORRIE WILSON slinks down the stairs backstage in a short pink robe, showing much leg. MAineVENt wants some of that.

M:  “Hey, Torrie! Good luck tonight in the swimsuit competition against Stacy Keibler.”

TW:  “Oh, thanks.”

M:  “You have nothing to worry about. Hey, listen; I was watching SmackDown! last week. And I saw what happened between you and Tajiri. It's none of my business, but if you're not doing anything later on this evening, I thought you and I could get a bite to eat, maybe have a couple drinks.”

TW:  “Sure, all right. That sounds fun, all right. See you later.”

M:  “It’s a date? Wonderful.”

Maven licks his lips while Torrie saunters off. Perv. Time for some religion, courtesy of REVEREND D-VON (w/DEACON BAUTISTA). Testifeeaieeaioh!

RDV:  “O, my God! O, look at you! O, yeah, look at you! O, lookin’ at Torrie Wilson like that! O, yeah! I know what's going on in your head! Not only that, but The Man Upstairs knows what's going on in your head! O, yes, He does! Impure thoughts, O, sinful thoughts, O, lustful thinking! O, yes, it is! But I tell you what... you sit there and you look at that no good Jezebel…”

M:  “Who in the heck do you think you…”

The Deacon muscles in to give Maven the Holy Eye.

RDV:  “That's right, that bleach blonde Jezebel, but I tell you, I can see it written all over your face! Oh, yes, I can…”

AL SNOW arrives, all “wots… uh, the deal?”

AS:  “Excuse me, does there seem to be a problem? Troubles here?”

RDV:  “No, uh-uh. Ain't no problem. I'm just here wishing Maven good luck in the match tonight.”

AS:  “Oh. Thanks.”

RDV:  “No problem. And Maven, you will get salvation from Brother D-Von. Oh, you will. (leaves)”

AS:  “Thanks for the kind words.”

Yar. Hey, Maven shaved the unibrow off the bridge of his nose. Good idea.

Elsewhere in the Molson Centre, looks like the referee’s dressing room, it’s… it’s… SHO FUNAKI!!!

(Hallelujah Chorus)

Yeah, he’s tying his boots. In comes mild-mannered reporter GREGORY HELMS.

GH:  “Sho Funaki… Gregory Helms. Ace reporter for the Daily Globe. Now as you know, The Hurricane has been receiving some EVIL! notes from some EVIL!  menace. And YOU are wearing an EVIL!  t-shirt. Are you a practitioner of things that which are EVIL!? WHASSUPWITDAT?!”

Helms holds his Dictaphone up to Funaki. He’s flummoxed.

SF:  “What's WRONG with you? I'm busy.”

GH:  “What's wrong with ME? I'm just looking out for my good friend, The Hurricane, and we're bound and determined…”

As Funaki turns to get something from his gym bag, our intrepid hero spies a note attached to Funaki’s back.

GH:  “GREAT CAESAR’S GHOST! Another note!”

Helms rips the note off Funaki’s back, causing him some discomfort. He reads…

GH:  “Hurricane: Congrats on your title shot tonight, but take heed if you win. Because then your pain will surely begin.”

Helms sticks the note onto Funaki’s chest, excuses himself, and prepares to WHOOSH… but, realising he is still in his civvies, runs off instead.

Another note, eh? Could it be our hero is getting closer to revealing the reason behind the rhyme? Or is his meter just about expired? Only one way to find out: tune in next week! Same Hurri-time, same Hurri-channel!

Meanwhile, in the interview area, MARC “Get the L Out” LOYD talks at Y2J.

ML:  “Chris Jericho... your actions tonight…”

CJ:  “My actions tonight? My actions tonight were designed to send a message to Triple H. A message he needs to understand and listen to. You see, on Sunday for the Hell in the Cell, everybody's thinking it's going to be the big bad Game! The man who retired Mick Foley in a match just like this one! Against the loud-mouthed, longhaired, arrogant, gum-chewing rock star who's finally going to get his mouth shut and get his comeuppance for good. (spits out gum) That's not what's gonna happen. Because on Sunday, the man behind the image is going to peel off the mask, pull back the curtain, and expose the ruthless, vicious, merciless competitor that Chris Jericho really is. You know, when Triple H tore his quad, was it the marketing of Y2J who put Triple H in the Walls of Jericho on the announcer table and put him out of the business for eight long months? When Triple H was beaten down and bloodied last week on SmackDown! not once, not twice, but three times, (video recap) was it the image of the Ayatollah of Rock-and Roll-ah who executed the deed? On Sunday at Judgment Day, Triple H is going to face the real me, when he’s locked inside of the steel cage with Chris Jericho. Hell... in a Cell!”

Ooooo. Interesting that they went to black-and-white in the middle of that video recap. Too much blood for Hour Number One? End of segment.

Y’know, Immo used to live above the Dunkin’ Donuts on Ste-Catherine Ouest and Chomedy. Two blocks from The Forum. Saw Patrick Roy and the Habs shut out Mark Messier and the Rangers, 3-0. That was NINE years ago. Ye Gods. Oh, they won the Cup that year, too. Jays won the World Series. The Best of Times for a sports fan. Except I was dirt poor and eating homemade bread, made of whatever I could find in the pantry. But that’s another story.

O, testify! D-Von is definitely on my A-List with this gimmick. Love it. They’ve already spelled the Deacon’s name wrong, however. To the ring they go.

RDV:  “O, my brothers, behold! (BOO!) O, I said behold! (BOO!) O, I said behold! (BOO!) O, I see you out as a sheep amongst the wolves! (QUOI?!) Before I commence with tonight's sermon, (QUOI?!) Brother Bo-tista will come out there into the mass, (QUOI?!) and you will add to that collection plate (QUOI?!) for your sinful ways!”

You’re outta luck, Rev, it’s a Catholic town. Plus, Maven rudely interrupts before the sermon can be read. Sinner! Al Snow is at Maven’s side for this match.

O, wrestling! D-Von immediately gets in a flurry of blows and knee drives in the corner. Forearm to the back. Elbow. Snap mare, off the ropes, elbow drop. Stomps. Strangle over the second rope. Body slam. D-Von up to the second rope… elbow drop misses. Al slams on the mat several times, and the Pavlovian crowd is clapping for Maven. Inside cradle by Maven for two. D-Von misses with a right…  small package for two. Maven with a boot to the gut and a DDT. Two count. Go behind into a belly-to-back. D-Von, in anguish, motions for the Deacon to run interference. He gets on the apron to confront the ref, and D-Von’s trick knee acts up when Maven tries another back suplex. D-Von hits an Implant Slop Drop. Cole says it’s called the “Saving Grace.” 1, 2, 3, testify. (1:54). These two-minute specials are bringing me down, man. Postmatch beatdown ensues. Snow comes in to beat on D-Von, landing a five-arm before the Good Deacon flattens him with the Hallibu… er, the collection box. D-Von crosses himself and thanks The Man Upstairs (Howie Morenz) for the victory. He goes to raise the Deacon’s arm in victory, but that arm has the collection box in it, so Deacon raises the other arm.

Stacy comes out of a special door, still in her black robe. She goes by a mirror at a counter that includes, yum, chocolate, vanilla and strawberry protein powder. Who the hell drinks the strawberry stuff? Blah, I can’t even stand the chocolate. Labels are facing away from the camera. See, it is indeed The Little Things that count. Speaking of which, a little person comes out of a bottom cupboard.

LP:  “EEEEEEEEEE! Bonjour, Stacy! You are my favourite superstar in the W-W-EEEEEEEEEE! And I know you're gonna win tonight's swimsuit competition. So I'm here with Panasonic’s new E-wear AV recorder. And I'm going to record all the good times tonight when you win for posteritEEEEEEE! So break a leg tonight, win big, and I'll be waiting right here for you! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

The little shill goes back into his cupboard. Stacy is all “What Th’?!” for a sec, but then she’s all “It’s cool.” Because sponsors are always cool. Especially the little guys. I’d probably be cracking up, except I’ve never seen the ad campaign in question. WhEEEEEEEEEEE! End of segment.

I’m suddenly reminded of the video for “Safety Dance” by Men Without Hats, another Montreal staple. Ah, the 80s. Let’s bring ‘em all back: Hillbilly Jim, Piper, Moondog Spot, Outback Jack, Mr. Perfect… oh.

My Mom is trimming the hedges again.

Back in the ring, Tazz starts us off with a cold intro (no theme music right off the bat like we’re used to, sounds weird) of the swimsuit competition. People in the crowd reach reflexively for some quarters, then realise it’s all in the ring. Which is good, because then they don’t have to crane their necks every two minutes. Long story short, Torrie’s Great Unveiling is interrupted when TAJIRI runs out and covers her up, then takes her backstage. EVIL! Stacy thinks she is the winner by default and refuses to display her wares, but TRISH STATUS comes out (new WWE champ gets to be on both shows) and offers up a challenge. She doesn’t have a swimsuit on, but she looks good in her red bra and panties, especially her protruding, muscular glutes… whoa, momma. Stacy goes to wallop her with the mic, but Trish ducks and kicks her in the gut, sending Stacy stumbling out of the ring. Tazz declares Trish the winner. We are all winners tonight, Tazz. O, yes. Stacy throws a hissy fit outside the ring. (0.4 Christian) Huh huh huh… butt cheeks.

Still to come: Hell Toupee! H, Edge, Angle and Y2J. End of segment.

Edmonton gets RAW next next week. Calgary gets SmackDown! A personal plea from The Immo: bring a British flag, especially in Calgary. Hold it up. Wave it high.

Your Clearasil Festering Blackhead of the Night: Trish beats Jazz for the title. Big ups to Trish for improving constantly, and Jazz for working hurt. Hang in there.

Backstage, Vinnie Mac, the Rev and the Angel (that’s what his arm says, remember) are yukking it up.

VKM: “Very nice. First of all, I would like to congratulate you, Reverend, on your recent successes of late. And I must say that the Deacon is very impressive.”

Stacy barges in, petulant and frenzied.

SK:  “Did you just see what Trish Stratus did to me out there? I don't know who she thinks she is, but she just embarrassed me out there! I don't understand! Why did she do that?”

VKM:  “I saw what happened, Stacy. I don't know how I can make it up to you, but I'll think of something.”

SK:  “Well... I know how you can make it up to me! I want a match with Trish Stratus, I want a championship match.”

VKM:  “I suppose I could do that. I'll make it for Judgment Day. But under one proviso: that is, that we employ the services of the… well, the Reverend D-Von Protection Fund. You will provide protection, will you not, Reverend?”

RDV:  “Wait… you want a reverend to go out and buy… CONDOMS?!”

VKM:  “No, I don't want to you buy condoms, I want you to provide protection. You see, where there's Trish, there's bound to be your half brother in her corner, Bubba Ray. So all I'm saying then, where we have Stacy, I would like to have the services of yourself and the Deacon.”

RDV:  “Ah, ha ha. O, yes, well, me and the good Deacon would love to lend our services.”

VKM:  “Good. That means then it's almost a certainty that you are looking at the next WWE women's champion!”

RDV:  “Testify!”

Stacy givers Vince a big hug. Meanwhile, a familiar song was brought up under Vince’s last line. It goes something like….

#  Yoooooouuuuuu looooooook sooooooo… goodtome. # Time compressed for your viewing pleasure, BILLY, CHUCK and RICO all enter the ring. Rico looks nervous. He is getting encouragement from his charges. Ah, it’s a singles match: Rico v. RIKISHI. Uh-oh. Sign in the crowd: “Rico Your Gorgeous.” I’ll cut the sign lady some slack. English might not be her first language. You people in Calgary, though… watch out! We get another video reminder of why Rico needed 23, uh, facials.

Squash time. We’re into Hour Two of the show now, by the way. Rico gets a cheap shot from behind before the bell rings. Rikishi turns around, unfazed. Rico with front kick and a right hand, but Rikishi blocks the right and drops Rico with one of his own. Biel throw off the ropes. Right hand. Irish, Rikishi misses the right, but presses Rico into a ‘Kishi Kutter on the rebound. Cover… 1… 2… Chucky pulls Rikishi off Rico, who bails outside the ring. Rikishi chases, and Billy lands a clothesline that sends Rikishi spinning to the mat. That warrants a replay. More kicks by Rico. In the corner now, three point kicks to the left pec, then up on the second rope for a kick in the face. Suave! Rico is a happy man. Off the ropes… uh-oh. Belly-to-belly. Irish to the corner, slapping the cheeks… aha, Rico pulls referee TEDDY “PEANUTHEAD” LONG in front of him. Rikishi stops short. Billy charges in, gets knocked down. Chucky gets a Couple of rights in, then holds Rikishi back so Billy can… yup, dropkick Chuck in the face. Big savate kick takes care of Billy. Rico charges in with an outside roundhouse, levelling Rikishi. The cover! One… two… kickout! Rico is screaming. Right hand, Irish, reversed by Rikishi, sunset flip attempt by Rico… SPLAT! Oh my. Rikishi sits down onto Rico’s chest for the win. (2:04). That gets a replay. SPLAT! again. Rikishi gets to do a little dancing at the top of the ramp, pyro and hat included. End of segment.

Why the two-minute specials? O, you know why.

Cole shills Judgment Day on wwe.com. Really, it should be “Judgement Day.” It should also have been “Insurrexion,” of course.

Back in Jean Beliveau’s office, Vince wants some nookie.

VKM:  “You know, there’s no doubt you would have won that swimsuit competition… um…”

Vince goes in for the kill again, but, hark, someone interrupts. Surprise! It’s Rico, Billo and Chucko.

R:  “Did you see that? That's ridiculous! How could that…

C:  “(mumble mumble)”

B:  “Rikishi just squooshed him, took all the air right out of…”

R:  “My chest!”

VKM:  “You lost to Rikishi? You lost to Rikishi?  What the hell are these… I'm ashamed of you. You're the tag team champions. Of World Wrestling Entertainment, damn it! Come on! I'll tell you what, at Judgment Day, the two of you are going to be defending those tag team titles! And your opponents are going to be Rikishi… and a partner that I will choose for Rikishi. Now get the hell out of my office! (they leave) Incompetents.”

Time to Interview The Game. With your host, Marc Loyd.

ML:  “Triple H, you're moments away from your tag team match. You’re going to team with Edge to take on Kurt Angle and Chris Jericho. But this Sunday at Judgment Day, you versus Chris Jericho in the "Hell in a Cell" match.”

HHH:  “Chris Jericho needs to understand something. Something that I don't think he's gotten yet. This Sunday, "Hell in a Cell", there's not gonna be any Kurt Angle! There's not gonna be six other guys! There's gonna be nobody to help. When that cage lowers around us, Chris Jericho is going to be alone. Alone with all his fears, all his insecurities, and alone with me. Now, if Jericho is wondering what I will do inside "Hell in a Cell"... he should call Mick Foley. Call Mick Foley, while he's travelling around on one of his many book tours. You know why Foley’s writing books? Because I put him out of this business! I ended Mick Foley’s career inside "Hell in a Cell"! That's what I do inside that cell! This Sunday will be no different.”

Looks like Edge has a few choice words for Haitch that can’t wait for later.

E:  “D’y’know, just because we were interrupted before, doesn't mean that you and I still don't have a problem.”

HHH:  “No. While I admire your guts and bravado to come out here and get in my face, why don't you go back and win a couple of world titles before you decide to jump in The Game, all right, pal?”

E:  “Well I guess I could take the Triple H way to the top: marry the boss's daughter and SLEEP my way to the world championship, couldn't I?”

HHH:  “You can do it any way that you want. Just start it tomorrow. ‘Cos tonight, we've got unfinished business with Angle and Jericho.”

Haitch smiles as Edge leaves the room. End of Segement. QUOI?! I said, end of segment. HEIN?! Fim do segmento! Ende! Sheesh.

On the flipside, the vaguely Asian music of Tajiri soothes the savage smark. A Triple Threat macth for the cruiserweight belt, ladies and gemmumun. Brought to you by Hungry-Man, The Sum of All Fears, and Taco Bell. Y’know, I never got over the fact that they dumped Gates McFadden and put in Anne Archer as Mrs. Ryan.

Give me a ping, Tajiri. One ping only. And make it upside BILLY KIDMAN’s cranium. Tajiri jumps Kidman right away. Oh, you get to fight THE HURRICANE, too. Good luck. Hurricane pulls apart Kidman and Tajiri and gives them the thumbs up. Tajiri kicks at one of the thumbs. So both faces attack Tajiri. Double Irish, double hip toss. Kidman goes for the cover, so Hurricane pulls him off. Hurricane with a cover of his own, but Kidman drops an elbow. Kidman Irish whips ‘Cane into the corner, goes for a clothesline on the rebound, but ‘Cane ducks under… and applies the choke! Thumbs up! But Tajiri nails him in the back of the head with a kick. Tajiri with an Irish on Kidman. Kidman slips behind… rydeen bomb. Two count. Kidman drags Tajiri to the corner… but Hurricane interrupts with a silly neckbreaker. Now ‘Cane is going up to the top. Tajiri meets him at the top, though. Hurricane shoves him off, but Tajiri does a complete backflip… right next to Kidman. Side headlock… tornado bulldog! With the added effect of knocking Hurricane to the floor. Kidman again drags Tajiri close to the corner. Shooting star press! Ugly, but connects. One… two… Hurricane pulls him off from outside the ring. ‘Cane throws Kidman into the Big Black Barricade and hops into the ring. Cover, hook of the near leg… but Tajiri gets the far leg onto the bottom rope. Hurricane with a couple of rights. Irish Whip… Tajiri does the handspring portion of the Heavy Metal Elbow, knocking Kidman off the apron in the process. Tajiri regains himself and ducks a Hurri-clothesline. Back kick to the gut. Tajiri prepares for the Boot of Delicious EVIL! ‘Cane ducks! CHOKESLAM! The cover! One… two… three! (2:22). Your NEW cruiserweight champion, The Hurricane. There’s joy in Hurriville tonight.

Cole and Tazz shill Judgment Day and the theme song by 12 Stones. Never heard of them. Are they like The Communards? Love the chyron with Bald Angle and Bald Edge. Shave ‘em both!

In the back… HULK HOGAN… is… LIMPING! He’s next! Franco-pops of DOOM are imminent. End of segment.

I got to see Hogan wrestle once, in 1990 at the Ottawa Civic Centre against The Earthquake. Lousy match, but it didn’t matter. Everyone popped like crazy, even The Immo and friends. I can dig a little nostalgia. Up to a point.

Here’s the breakdown on the Hogan into, starting with Jimi’s WAH PEDAL OF DOOM.

Limping into the ring: 1:34

Posing, getting mic. Jimi fades out: 1:18

Standing Ovation : 4:16

Yup, Hogan’s already gotten more time than all three wrestling matches combined, and he hasn’t even spoken yet. You know what, though? In this case, it’s all good.

HH:  “Okay, okay! (YAY!) You guys are overwhelming! (YAY!) I had one goal. That was some day to get to WrestleMania. And I came out here the night after WrestleMania, damn it, just to say thanks! (YAY!) And because of all you crazy damn ‘Maniacs, I can't go home now! (YAY!) You guys are awesome! And now again tonight, I find myself out here on the eve of Judgment Day just to say thanks again. (HO-GUN! HO-GUN!) With Judgment Day just a few days away, I came out here again just to say thanks for making my dreams come true, guys! (YAY!) And I hope this dream never ends, ‘Maniacs! (YAY!) I hope I never ever wake up to reality again, because you see, every night just like you guys know, I turn on the news and when I see what's going on in the world today with 9/11 and all that stuff, reality sucks! So the way I feel, all my Hulkamaniacs out here, when I'm in this very ring, I'm in my own dream world, my own fantasy world, and I hope it never ends! (YAY!) You know, I was going to come out here and say I hope... but now it's not that I hope, ‘Maniacs, I know Hulkamania will live forever! (YAY!) And with all that being said, Undertaker... brother... on Judgment Day, what are you gonna do when me and all my…”

Interrupting this love affair is your boss and mine, Vinnie Mac. He gets into the ring and stares Hogan down. Much heel heat.

VKM:  “You know, Hogan, you said reality sucks! I beg to differ with that opinion of yours. In my opinion, reality doesn't suck! In my opinion... Hulkamania sucks! (BOO!) Oh, yeah. I've got to admit, I enjoyed Monday Night Raw! I enjoyed it when Undertaker was dragging you behind your very own motorcycle all over the arena! Undertaker was dragging you behind your own motorcycle like were you just a great big bag of road kill! (BOO!) Wait a minute… at one time I agreed with you. I agreed with these fans at one time you were an icon! At one time, you may have been the Immortal Hulk Hogan, but no more! Because as I look at you here tonight, what I see is an empty shell of what you used to be! (BOO!) See, Hogan, I can sense it! Okay. I can smell the stench! You see what you don't realize is that Hulkamania is diseased! (BOO!) Hulkamania has a terminal illness! (BOO!) What I'm trying to tell you, Hogan, is Hulkamania has cancer! (BOO!) And that's why this Sunday at Judgment Day, The Undertaker is going to gather, scoop up the remains, the remnants of Hulkamania, stuff those remnants in a cardboard box, and bury it! Tell you what you can do right now... you can get that look right off your face! You can get that look off your face, Hogan. And I'll tell you why! (Na-na-na-na… na-na-na-na… HEYHEYHEY, GOOD-BYE!) You're right, say good-bye to Hulk Hogan! Say good-bye to Hulkamania! (BOO!) Go ahead, say good-bye! (BOO!) Well you see... you see, Hogan... I believe this, and you better get that look off your face, because I'd like to remind you that I, Dr. Frankenstein, Dr. Vincent K. McMahon, I created Hulkamania! (BOO!) And what I created, I can always destroy! (BOO!) You know, Hogan, I'll leave you with these parting thoughts. Because I've figured you all out. I know what the red and yellow colours stand for now! The red stands for the blood that's gonna flow from your body this Sunday at Judgment Day! And the yellow... the yellow stands for that big wide yellow streak that goes all the way down your back!”

Vinnie Mac slaps Hogan across the face. Hogan contemplates the vagaries of life for a moment while Vin Man chuckles and the crowd chants Hogan’s name. Vince goes to leave with a hearty, “That’s right, mac…” off microphone. He doesn’t get far. Right hand. Hulk is hulking up! Big right hand knocks the boss to the mat. He tears the tearaway shirt off! GINORMOUS FRANCO-POPS OF UNPARALLELED DOOM!! LEGDROP OF EVEN DOOMIER DOOM!! Play that Hendrix! Hogan gets another minute or so of posing, rejuvenated, no doubt, by all his Hulkamaniacs.

Anticlimactic main event, next! End of segment.

I loved it. BUT… it’s a Montreal thing. I think Vince knows it, too. He can squeeze more pops for Hogan with extra trips to Canada, but nothing like in La Belle Province. And I don’t think he’s dumb enough to alienate his younger demographic, either. Make hay while the sun shines.

So, main event time. First out is Monsieur Yousuque, carrying that scruffy lock of Edge’s hair. Y2J is next. Then Edge and his retina-scarring strobes of pulsating agony. He gets right into the ring and attacks Angle. And one for you, M. Jericho. Have at you! Whoops, the heels gain the advantage. Time to play The Game, as he finally gets his lollygagging self to the ring. We finally have a bell now, as Angle and HHH square off in one corner, spilling outside the ring, while Edge and Y2J do battle. Edge with face offence in the corner while HHH drapes Angle over the BBB. And a clothesline to the mat. Edge with chops on Jericho. Irish, clothesline is ducked, one arm flapjack by Edge on the rebound. Flying jalapeno. Four punches to the head. Y2J staggers to the wrong corner and gets pasted by H. Staredown tag brings in The Game. Face offence in the corner. H stares down the ref, allowing Y2J to recover with an eye rake. Tag to Angle. CHARGE! Angle runs into a high knee. Tag to Edge. Boot to the gut. Punches and chops, but Angle gets in a series of four rights. Irish, reversed, leg lariat by Edge. To the top! Y2J runs across the apron and tries to interfere but Edge kicks him down to the floor. Angle, catlike, runs up the turnbuckles and throws Edge to the mat. Love that move. Cover, H makes the save. Phantom tag, and Y2J kicks away at Edge. Angle’s throw gets a replay. Heel offence in the corner. Snap mare, dropkick to the back. Y2J pushes Edge around with the foot and taunts HHH. Tag to Angle. Edge fights back with right hands. Irish, reversed, into a waistlock… belly-to-belly overhead. Whoo! Angle taunts HHH. Tag to Jericho. Irish, running back elbow. Lionsault… misses! Nobody home. Who will tag first? Y2J. Angle comes in and cuts off Edge. Forearm to the back of the head. Tag to Y2J. Three suplexes. Cover for two. Heel offence in the corner. Y2J sits Edge up on the top turnbuckle. Goin’ up… Edge fights back and shoves Jericho to the mat. Flying dropkick from the second turnbuckle by Edge. By the way, it’s only a missile dropkick when you don’t bend the knees, thank you very much. Who will make the tag first? Y2J again. Angle comes in, but this time, accidentally knocks Edge into HHH for the tag. H with the offence. Clothesline ducked, silly neckbreaker. Irish… Spine on the Pine! Cover… Y2J to make the save, but H moves and Jericho elbowdrops Angle instead. Irish for Y2J, reversed, Jericho ducks the head, eats the facebuster. Kick to the gut… setting up for The Pedigree, but Angle waffles him in the back of the head. Double team, HHH into the ropes, but he hits a double clothesline on both heels. Tag to Edge, goin’ up top, double clothesline of the flying variety! Chop to Y2J. Irish, reversed, dropkick by Edge. Leg lace… catapult, and Y2J sails over the top rope. Angle hits a forearm from behind. Angle Slam… no, Edge slips out. Single underhook faceslam. Jericho’s got the chair… SPEAR! Y2J gets plastered before he can use the steel. Angle from behind… Angle Slam! Whoo! Ah, but H comes in and kicks Angle in the gut. Pedigree! Cover… hey, ref, he’s not legal! Dammit. Y2J breaks up the count anyway. H and Y2J spill outside of the ring. Referee MIKE CHIODA follows them out and gets squashed into the BBB. That’s what you get for counting the illegal man’s cover. HHH clotheslines Y2J over the BBB, and his momentum eventually gets him into the crowd as well. They fight into the tunnel, which leaves Angle and Edge in the ring. Belly-to-belly by Edge, and a beauty! Edge setting up for the spear… but Angle whacks him with the chair instead. BOO! Angle slam again for good measure, as Chioda struggles back into the ring and makes the three count. (8:51). Angle brandishes the plundered lock of hair again, and we out.

Good match. Good show. Why can’t RAW be this good?

Hope you enjoyed Judgment Day. Edmonton, Calgary… bring out those British flags. Hold them up. Wave them high.

Peace.