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ONLINE ONSLAUGHT
Fixing ECW The Rick Way! Plus:
Ratings, Iraq, and a Few Other Newsbites 
December 1, 2006

by Rick Scaia
Exclusive to OnlineOnslaught.com

 

What a remarkable weekend.... I don't remember one quite like it in all my time as a wrestling fan: the most talked about subject is how nobody is talking about this weekend's pay-per-view event.
 

It's not like it's a TNA show, or one of these countless $9.95 crapathons that everybody knows enough not to even bother talking about.

No, this is the latest effort from the multi-billion-dollar media empire that RULES the wrestling universe: this is a WWE sanctioned PPV showcase of the ECW brand, featuring RAW and SD! crossovers.

 
To have so few people giving a shit, and to have the handful of "smart" fans so enthralled by how few people are giving a shit? That, my friends, takes a truly heroic effort. And the thing is: I totally grant that no publicly-traded company in the history of the universe has ever been stupid enough to look for ways to lose money and embarrass itself.... which means that WWE's amazing display of incompetence, climaxing on Sunday night, comes with them NOT EVEN TRYING TO DO IT ON PURPOSE.

Truly, truly amazing.

It was certainly not worth bothering the trOOps to do PPV picks and analysis as part of our traditional OO PPV Preview Extravaganzas. Why not? Well, the biggest reason is also the primary piece of evidence in the case of "The Fans vs. Whatever the Fuck It Is WWE is Trying to do with ECW." Namely: there are only two announced matches (and two more rumored ones that are baffling in their pointlessness).

WWE has had over six months to build to this show. Paul Heyman himself, in doing damage control after the initial few weeks of the New ECW failed to placate long-time ECW fans, said that one of the great benefits of only having 2 PPVs per year for the ECW brand would be the ability to tell long-spanning stories that would have cataclysmic blow-offs at their bi-annual shows.

Well, WWE's made Paul Heyman into a liar, as there are only two matches announced for the PPV. And one of them doesn't even feature a single ECW star (it's a RAW/SD! crossover thing being thrown onto the ECW show as an obvious Desperation Move). And the other match? Was pulled out of somebody's ass less than a month ago when it was decided that an RVD/Big Show one-on-one main event was not doable (for various reasons including Big Show's health and RVD's perpetual attempts to remain in the doghouse).

The new main event, by the way, in addition to being all of about 3 weeks old in its hype and planning, also features another non-ECW import from the SD! brand. One who just so happens to be pretty much the odds-on favorite to win the match (and the ECW Title). Viva la ECW!

So you want a rundown/preview of the ECW PPV? Here you go:

Six Man Extreme Elimination Chamber Match for the ECW Title (Big Show vs. RVD vs. Sabu vs. CM Punk vs. Bobby Lashley vs. Test)

It's basically your standard Elimination Chamber match, except it will also include one steel chair, one crowbar, one table, and one barbed wire bat, which might make it slightly more interesting. But it also includes one Test, which means it will be significantly less interesting. Advantage: every past Elimination Chamber Match (well, except maybe the one where they actually put Chris F. Masters into a PPV main event.... BWAAAAAAAHHAAAAHAHAHA!).

Big Show is in no physical condition to continue headlining 2-3 shows per week as ECW champ. Sabu has lost the ability to tell time. RVD's dared to turn down optional extra work. It'd be stupid to blow the CM Punk Wad without a better build-up. Test is Test. So hello Bobby Lashley, ECW Champion. The only question, Bobby, is, "Would you like a heel turn with that?"

Hardy Boyz vs. MNM (One Night Only Double Reunion Match)

Jeff Hardy and Nitro are both visiting from RAW. Matt Hardy is visiting from Irrelevance... er, SmackDown!. And Mercury is back from Rehab. The result: a one night only reunion of two solid teams who'll have a solid match that has an outcome that there's absolutely no reason to care about. The mere fact that the Big Fancy "One Night Only" label actually TAKES AWAY from the intrigue level of the match, instead of adding to it, is pretty much everything you need to know about WWE's promotional incompetence, here. Give the fans reason to suspect that this match might be the start of rehabbing tag divisions on one or more brands, and you have something. Tell them point blank that after this match, these four men will go back to being pretty much useless singles wrestlers (except, stunningly, Jeff Hardy, who is making the most of his comeback so far), and it's a license to not give a shit.

Also Rumored: Sandman vs. Bob Holly, and Tommy Dreamer vs. Daivari. Why? Don't ask me. Probably because somebody thinks it'll be fun to have Tommy Dreamer got beatdown by that oaf Khali. And because I assume Bob Holly MUST have naked pictures of a McMahon, otherwise, there's really no reason for him to even still be on TV. Alls I know is that Sandman and Dreamer have plenty of value, even if just as cameos that please the crowd and remind us all that this is ECW, and instead, WWE apparently intends to use the pair in ways that no fan, anywhere, could possibly care about. Bravo.

So that's it: that's what you're being asked to pay for on Sunday. That's the Full Preview. In fact, it's probably a better hype job than anything that's appeared on the Sci-Fi Network in 2 months. And I'm not just saying that because I have a high personal opinion of myself. 

Adding to the comedy of errors: as of this Friday morning writing, ECW has sold 1500 tickets (for an 8000-seat arena) in Augusta, GA, for the PPV. Even with a remarkable job of papering, both the paid and the comped audiences at Sunday night's show will be SMALLER than what TNA drew in Detroit for their October PPV. But hey: Vince McMahon is a promotional mastermind who knew EXACTLY what he was doing when he, in a fit of Pure Genius, decided to move the PPV out of NYC's Hammerstein Ballroom to some neutral venue in the south. Because who needs 3000 loud-mouthed fans who care about the ECW product (and who would at least be counted on to cheer loudly for CM Punk, like the good wankers they are), when you can have 1500 dimwitted southern yokels who probably are expecting to see John Cena and the Undertaker cuz it is a WWF show and all? Nee haw!

Also: in the final week before the brand's first PPV (and just two days after a big-ass cross-brand Survivor Series PPV that was intended to showcase a few ECW stars in such a way that RAW/SD! fans would be drawn to the third brand), ECW on Sci-Fi did its lowest (non-holiday) rating to date, a miserable 1.5. That's momentum, baby!

It all points to one inevitable and indisputable conclusion: that Sunday's December to Dismember is poised to become a flop and a failure of epic proportions. And not in the way that I wrote about last week regarding the Survivor Series (which was more a "disappointment" based on 20 years of past evidence of the SSeries PPV being an annual highlight for WWF/E, than an outright "failure").... I mean a "failure" in the sense that it will fall well short of all projections, it could possibly lose money, it is certain to be watched by fewer live fans than a recent PPV presented by the cute little Pretend Wrestling Company that WWE Doesn't Even Consider to Be Competition, and will probably draw a buyrate lower than what ECW drew with their shows in the late 90s. You know, before Vince and WWE came in to breathe new life and a new vision into a dead organization. Honestly: thank god they came along to fix things, right?

It's the sort of thing for which somebody should be fired. Except: that can't happen here, as the biggest problems facing ECW are the brainstormings of some of WWE's highest higher-ups, including Vince McMahon and Kevin Dunn. They aren't going anywhere. 

But me having this wacky notion that it's easy to find fault like a typical Internet Jackoff, but much more noble to propose viable solutions (it's the foundation upon which OO is built, kidz~!), I refuse to believe that things are hopeless. At about 3am on Thursday night, I found myself wacked out on prescription medication and booze (hey, the night was a joint Celebration/Lamentation of me finally leaving the house I've been living in for over 9 years), and stupidly asked myself the question "Can ECW's PPV be fixed?" (after exhausting any other possible alternatives for self-entertainment)...

And guess what? The answer was "yes." But it requires one rather ginormous leap of faith: WWE has to let this ECW PPV be an ECW PPV. 

Sound like doubletalk or circular logic? It's not.... what I mean is simple: if, after this crap build-up and awful promotional effort, WWE gives us a "December to Dismember" that is just another WWE PPV, it will suck the high hard one. I'm talking it'll have all the "Well, I guess everybody worked hard" of your standard dismissible TNA PPV, but just without all the intensity and flippy-shit that usually result in TNA at least having 1 or 2 matches worth watching from the "I try to repress it, but I do sometimes still like OMG WORKRATE~!" Perspective. It's the worst of both worlds, baby!

But if WWE let's this ECW PPV be an ECW show, then it's actually not THAT far of a stretch to think that Paul Heyman or Like Minded Disciples could take a show with 2 announced matches, and pad it out to a non-stop, 3-hour roller coaster ride. It might not have a whole lot of historical/replay value, but it will still be a fun, rock-your-socks off kind of a show much like countless "two-match" ECW Arena shows (and maybe even an ECW PPV or two back in the day) ended up being, despite what appeared, on the surface, to be poor planning.
 
The difference here, in the Year of our Lord 2006, of course, is that WWE has given us no reason to have this kind of faith in the letters E, C, and W. Back in 1998, you just sort of trusted that whatever injuries, no-shows, and lack of planning plagued a major ECW show, Paul E. would pull SOMEthing out of his ass to give you three hours of Your Money's Worth. Today? Not so much, not when WWE can't even give us our Money's Worth with their other two, more-star-studded rosters. The company's Institutional Mandate for Mediocrity gives us no reason to hope for anything watchable on Sunday.

But let's not have that stop us from turning this into a little mental exercise: Is it possible to take the current ECW product, and still churn out a show on Sunday night that will wow the 18 people stupid enough to pay for it? I say the answer is yes!

*IF* you let it be an ECW show. And by that, I mean diverging from the homogenous WWE template for one night. I don't mean anything too wacky. I'm not asking for Tajiri or Mick Foley or Mike Awesome to be flown in (but imagine what I could do with a full slate of surprise guest stars!). I'm going to churn out a show that will leave storylines in essentially un-fucked-with so that the Writer Monkeys can resume making Tuesday nights the most irrelevant night of wrestling on TV. In short, you're getting (as I believe all fantasy booking should be) a show that wreaks of Plausibility. I'm just asking for one night when Vince, Steph, Dunn, and the Writer Monkeys just hand me their Big Stinky Turd, and let me polish it up as best I can (and in a manner that I think would be an fitting homage to what most of us remember as "ECW").

What's this rant mean? It means, kids, that I got the ITCH (I'll have to have the doc check that later this afternoon), and as a result, you get a Very Special One Night Only Visit To the Fantasy OO Universe! You get....

December to Dismember: A Version That Won't Totally Suck

Cold Open

Joey Styles in alone in the middle of the ring, and in long-standing ECW fashion, he blurts out "Helloeveryoneandelcometo EEEEE, SEEE, DOUBLE-YOU! I'm your host Joey Styles, and tonight at December to Dismember...."

He is interrupted by a strangely familiar guitar riff. [dun da duh dun] 
Then a voice: "Oh, you didn't know?" [dun da duh dun] "Then your ass better CALLLLLLLLL SOMMEBODDDDYYYYY!!"" Could it really be? The crowd stands and turns....

And is met with the arrival of The Blue Meanie and Stevie Richards, in full New Age Outlaw costume. They make their way to the ring, as the crowd fires up a mighty "BWO, BWO" chant.

Joey Styles powders out to return to the commentary desk, leaving Meanie to get on the house mic and chastise the fans: "BWO? I think you're mistaking us with somebody else.... because, you see..... ladiesandgentlemenboysandgirlschildrenofallages, ECW is proud to present to you two men who stand zero chance of ever again being the TAGteamCHAMPIONSoftheWOOOOOORRRRRRRLLLD! I'm the Blue Dogg, and this is my partner, Dumbass Stevie Richards, and together, we are the BLUE AGE OUTLAWS!" The crowd, assuming they've grown enough non-tarded ones down there in deepest, darkest Georgia, should immediately switch over to a "BAO, BAO" chant. Because it'd be funny. If necessary, 3000 fans from the Hammerstein Ballroom should be flown into Augusta on WWE's dime to make this happen.

At this point, Stevie will pull Meanie aside, and whisper in his ear. Meanie will say, "Really? Are you sure? Why would we call ourselves THAT?!?" Stevie will shrug and quip, "I dunno, I guess maybe we haven't been relevant since 1998, our solo careers tanked...." 

Meanie interrupts: "Yeah! Yours especially! They actually made you King of the Ring."

"I know. What the hell were they thinking? Anyway, our careers tanked, we lost our jobs, and now we're clinging to our last shreds of fame by getting back together again to be the Dudleys bitches and make stupid videotapes."

Back to Meanie: "Sounds about right. And folks, that's why we are the BLUE KIN MAFIA." Listen to the silence. Meanie: "BKM? BKM?" (in a timid voice). Crowd: "No Sale." Meanie, under his breath: "Well, at least I tried." Stevie: "Hey, it's enough to know that somewhere in Orlando, somebody's probably really pissed off that Paul Levesque and Mike Hickenbottom are sitting at home coming up with new cock jokes, while they send us jobbers out here to make fun of them, instead." Crowd: "[nelson]HA HAW![/nelson] EC-DUB, EC-DUB, EC-DUB!"

Stevie: "Well, I guess it's time we get to the point. We came all the way here to issue an open challenge."

Meanie: "I thought we were answering an open challenge."

Stevie: "Oh, maybe. I forget. It doesn't matter, anyway. That's just what happens when you hire Russo, I guess."

Meanie: "Ahhh."

Stevie: "So yeah, we're here. I guess. With lots of vague threats and pointless posturing that can't possibly have any pay-off. WHO WANTS A PIECE OF US?!?!???"

Suddenly, the opening crescendo of Vince McMahon's theme plays.... but just before breaking into "No Chance in Hell," it switches over to some shitty dance music.... and oh sweet merciful christ, it's the Oiled Up Fat Stripper Guy jiggling his way towards the ring.

The Blue Age Outlaws at first appear mortified, but as the Oiled Up Fat Stripper Guy removes his sweat suit and starts shaking his habbyflabbybabby all over the place, they sudden soften, and Meanie comments: "I don't know what we were so upset about, this guy is AWESOME." The pretend versions of Kip and Jesse James then begin dancing along with the Oily Stipper Guy in as Homoerotic a Fashion as is Permissible on TV-14 Programming. The implications should be clear, and the Voodoo Kin Mafia should be robbed of whatever remaining vestiges of relevance or credibility they were under the misapprehension they still had. 

After a bit of dancing, IT'S TIME TO GET SERIOUS... we are interrupted again.... by Danny Doring? Seconded by CW Anderson? Well, ummm, OK... let's at least listen to what he has to say:
 
"Christ. Five years ago, I was half of the last reigning ECW Tag Team Champions ever. And I'll be damned if I'm gonna let you two turn the opening of ECW's first PPV since 2001 into a joke." Doring and CW start marching towards the ring, when we are interrupted again....

By "Not the Beastie Boys, But Almost," and the FBI (along with Trinity, in one of her insane stripper outfits). Guido gets a mic and says, "You wanna talk tag team wrestling in the old ECW? Well, nobody ever did it no better than the Full Bloodied Italians." 

After a bit more jawing, all three teams are in the ring, and Stevie eventually says, "So are you guys saying what I think you're saying. Is this a THREE WAY DANCE?" The crowd likes the idea, and picks up a "Three way dance, Three way dance" chant.

Then the oily stripper guy makes a big mistake, and grabs a mic and says "Did somebody say DANCE?" and he starts jiggling again. Stevie shakes his head in pity, makes eye contact with both the FBI and Doring/Anderson.... and as the six-on-one in-ring murder of The Fat Oily Stripper Guy kicks into high gear, we eventually cut to....

"Let the Bodies Hit the Floor"/Opening Theme/Etc....

[Segment Time: 15 minutes; 
Segment Entertainment Value: 10 out of 10;
Segment Workrate/Wanker Value: 0 stars (TNA fans will be especially deeply offended;
Total Elapsed Time: 15 minutes]

Stevie Richards/Blue Meanie vs. Danny Doring/CW Anderson vs. the Full Blooded Italians

Coming out of the opening credits, a ref is already in the ring, and we join the match in progress, since we all know how ECW loves it some Seamless Transitions. During the early feeling out process, while things are slower, we get a few cutaways to the Oily Fat Guy doing a stretcher job, while Joey Styles promises us he'll never been seen again (this is a promise WWE will then keep forever and ever and ever, amen).

Good fast paced match, since everybody but Meanie can really go (and Meanie, even with 1-and-a-half lungs, is a foolproof crowd pleaser). The FBI will score the win over the BWO in the end (maybe with an assist from Trinity).

[Match Time: 10 minutes;
Match Entertainment Value: 6 out of 10;
Match Wanker Value: ** (out of five, fast-paced and short enough that it didn't overstay its welcome despite featuring essentially six guys who are all jobbers on TV, if they are on TV at all);
Total Elapsed Time: 25 minutes]

Another Seamless Transition: CATFIGHT~! CATFIIIIIIIIGHT~!

As Richards/Meanie and Doring/Anderson powder out, the FBI celebrate, and Trinity in her Skank Outfit gets on the mic. She says she's sick and tired of hearing from fans about how hot Kelly Kelly is. She says she knows fans don't want a 19-year-old cupcake who won't even hold your hand till the third date. They want a real woman who knows how to please them, and who'll do whatever they want, whenever they want. In short, they want the Full Bodied Italian. [Insert hooting and hollering here]

To this end, Trinity would like Kelly to get her cute little narrow ass out here, and if she's such an Expeditionist, we'll give these fans and Extreme Body Showdown right here and now. Furthermore, any other woman back there in the locker room is free to come down and join in if they think they can match bods with Trinity.

After a bit more goading, finally Kelly comes out. An upset Mike Knox is behind her, and follows her all the way to the ring. The "Showdown" apparently consists of playing some club music, and dancing around while threatening to take off clothes. Trinity gives the First Option to Kelly, who starts dancing, but is yanked into a corner by Knox after 30 seconds or so, and the first hint of Visible Thongage. BOO~! So Trinity takes a turn....

And 30 seconds into HER skank-a-thon, Jazz runs out and attacks her. Knox immediately shove Kelly out of the ring, and they get out of dodge. Jazz puts a beating on Trinity until the FBI can return and yank Trinity out of the ring to safety.

[Segment Time: 5 minutes;
Segment Entertainment Value: 7 out of 10 (cuz boobies are easy on the eyes);
Segment Wanker Value: * (because Jazz interrupted the boobies and she's an OMG REAL WRESTLER~!);
Total Elapsed Time: 30 minutes]

Seamless Transition #3: Jazz's Challenge

Jazz gets a mic, and says that she doesn't care about bikini matches and lingerie matches, she cares about kicking ass. And clearly, none of the women in ECW have anything to offer her, so starting tonight, she's challenging any man in the locker room to come on down and try to beat her.

A bit more gum-flapping and goading, and eventually, here comes....

Shannon Moore? Uh oh. 

Because you see where this is going. A lot of chuckling and head-shaking from Jazz, before the inevitable quip: "Hey, Nancy, I said I wanted to fight a MAN."
 
Shannon would fire back with lame accusations about Jazz's mannishness that will include "She's a man, baby" and claims that she should really pay more attention to his amazing personal style, because he's "bringing back the sexy." The crowd should absolutely loathe Moore and his comically outdated and pathetic catchphrases. SHOULD. Remember: this is still the deep south. But let's cross our fingers.

The back-and-forth eventually ends with an agreement to quit the yapping, and let's just get a referee out here, have another seamless transition, and do us a match....

Jazz vs. Shannon Moore (Intergender Challenge)

Yes, Jazz will win, and cleanly. But this will be a surprisingly competitive and entertaining match, playing off both the dynamic that Jazz is stiff and Moore is about as fruity-looking a cosmic joke as there is, AND the dynamic that Jazz is tough but Moore is still 5 inches taller and 50 pounds heavier when you get right down to it.

[Segment Length: 15 minutes -- 5 minutes challenge, 10 minutes match;
Segment Entertainment Value: 8 out of 10 -- everybody will like seeing the fruitcake get beat, it gives Jazz a bit of direction with a callback to an angle Heyman initially tried 6 years ago, and the attack on Trinity -- who can actually wrestle -- sets up a Jazz/Trinity match at some point, too;
Segment Wanker Value: *1/2;
Total Elapsed Time: 45 minutes]

Finally: Let's Take a Deep Breath

After 45 minutes straight of seamless transitions and action, we FINALLY get to visit with Joey Styles and Tazz, who play up the non-stop nature of the show so far. Joey: "So far tonight, we've seen the Blue Age Outlaws all the way from Orlando, two half naked babes, and a woman beating a man." [Tazz: "Well, beating Shannon Moore." Joey: "Point taken."] And, Joey points out: "We haven't even gotten to our prepared material for tonight!"

That provides the segue into a lengthy video package featuring the accomplishments and legacies of both the Hardys (who innovated TLC matches) and MNM (who were underappreciated in-ring anchors on SD! for about a full year, including several tag title reigns). The clips, music, and melodramatic voice-over all give the indication that this is even bigger than if all the original members of both The Who and The Beatles were re-animated for a Battle of the Bands.

Back at the announce table, Joey admits that these might be stars better known for their contributions to RAW or SD!, but notes that it took ECW to get them all together in the same ring. Then he kicks it to Tazz, who has prepared one of his patented Tales of the Tape for the match. 

Backstage: the Hardys are WALKING~!

Elsewhere Backstage: MNM are WALKING~! and they walk past the FBI and Trinity (who is icing down her knee after being assaulted by Jazz). Melina can't resist the chance to stop and make a smart-ass comment to Trinity about getting her ass kicked. Trinity responds with some bitchiness about how she didn't even see Melina out there for the Body Challenge. What, is Melina ashamed that she can't stack up? No, Melina says she just can imagine showing off her A-List Bod to these disgusting C-List fans. BOO~! Just as the two (ahem) "ladies" are about to go nose to nose, the men step in and separate them. Nitro and Mercury opine that the FBI oughta "keep your bitch on a tighter leash." And Guido and Tony respond that "if you fruitcakes decide you wanna stick around ECW for more than One Night Only, we'll be more than happy to teach you a lesson in that very ring."

[Segment Time: 10 minutes;
Segment Entertainment Value: 4 out of 10 -- hey, video packages mean we get a chance for a piss break.... and admit it, a little tease of a possible FBI/MNM throwdown isn't an ENTIRE waste of time;
Segment Wanker Value: Zero Stars (NO WORKRATE OMG~!);
Total Elapsed Time: 55 minutes]

Hardys vs. MNM

There shall be no play-by-play, as I suck at inventing entire 25 minute matches, when all I'm envisioning is non-stop action.

Let's just say it'll be a bit more back-and-forth (i.e. a few Decoy Babyfaces in Peril before the real one settles in), with the Hardys hitting on all cylinders and Melina being integral to M and N's periods of success.

Then, right towards the end: REF BUMP~! This allows the Hardys to give us a hint of Ladder Play for a few minutes as they stage a red hot rally. But there's no ref to count any of their convincing near falls, dagnabbit!

This eventually leads to Melina being the Difference Maker, as she finds an opening to deliver a kick to Jeff Hardy's sac at a crucial juncture. M and N quickly dispatch Matt after some double teaming and their old Snapshot finisher. Then, Melina goes and stands the ladder up in a corner, directly in front of Jeff, who is standing slouched in the turnbuckles. She starts gesturing for something.

BAH GAWD, THAT VILE WENCH IS ASKING FOR THE SNAPSHOT! WITH THE LADDER! Nitro and Mercury get the idea, and sandwich Jeff into the corner with the ladder, then reach through the ladder to grab Jeff, and hoist him with the ladder -- the ladder is like a platform between M and N with Jeff spawled helplessly on top -- onto their shoulders. They rip off the Snap Shot, with Jeff bumping painfully onto the ladder as a result. 

Everybody agrees that is the Greatest Move Ever. The ref wakes up, counts three, and makes it official. MNM has Cheated 2 Win.

[Match Length w/ Intros and Post-Match: 30 minutes;
Match Entertainment Value: 10 out of 10 -- yeah, the bad guys won, but clearly there's nothing to do about it but have another match later where those damned ladders will be perfectly legal!; 
Match Wanker Value: ****1/2 -- all will eventually agree this was the Match of the Night;
Total Elapsed Time: 1 hour, 25 minutes]

Backstage: Tazz and Joey take us on a tour of tonight's Elimination Chamber Participants, all in various stages of readiness. This culminates with a shot of the parking lot, where Bobby Lashley steps out of a Luxury Sedan and walks toward the buidling.... where he is immediately assaulted by Bob Holly. Holly and Lashley have about a 90 second back-and-forth brawl until Paul Heyman arrives with his SWAT Team. Together with Holly, the SWAT Team administer a 3-on-1 beatdown of Lashley that leaves Bobby unconscious on the concrete when officials finally swarm to break things up.

The camera pans over to focus on Holly now talking to Heyman, insisting that he's now paid Lashely back for stealing his spot 2 weeks ago, and Holly wants in the Elimination Chamber. Heyman just nods, pityingly, and says "Sorry Bob, but Lashley does have a signed contract to compete in that match tonight. And come on, use your head: we didn't just incapacitate one of Big Show's opponents so we could replace him with a fresh man." Heyman and his SWAT Team walk away, and Sourpuss Bob Holly seems on the verge of a little tantrum, but nobody cares, and he's not seen nor heard from again tonight. YAY!

The camera expedites Bob's departure by panning back to the scene of officials and medics tending to Lashley's carcass.... and directly behind that scene: a black SUV pulls up, and out steps the ECW Champion Big Show. As he slowly saunters past Laslhley's prone body, the grin on his face can be best described as "shit-eating."

Let's thank the band for tonight's official theme song, show an ad for Armageddon, and do some other Sponsor-y Type Stuff here to pad out this segment.

[Segment Length: 10 minutes;
Segment Entertainment Value: 5 out of 10 -- perhaps a bit on the formulaic side, but any chance to see Bob Holly marginalized is Good TV;
Segment Wanker Value: minus-one-star -- because there's nothing Wankers love more than waiting till the show is over and then retroactively pointing out that THIS was where WWE "telegraphed" the finish of the main event;
Total Elapsed Time: 1 hour, 35 minutes]

Class is In Session

We've had time to set up the blackboard and teacher's desk in the ring, and it appears as though Matt Striker would like to lecture us.

Blah blah blah, extreme is bad, blah blah blah, he is way more refined than you, blah blah blah. But the crowd eats all this up with a spoon, because Striker is such a phenomenal douche and that argyle sweater vest really makes you want to slap him.

Finally, he gets to a real point: that he's going to teach us a lesson in the TRUE meaning of "Extreme" tonight, as he introduces us to the Most Extreme Man in all of ECW, and his new Foreign Exchange Student.... Rene Dupree. Dupree hits the ring to a chorus of lusty boos, as there ain't nothing extreme about slightly fey pretty boys. And now, we've got two of them in the ring.

And they each take a minute or two to explain how great the other is, and the overall effect is nauseating, until....

"Not Metallica" fires up, and the Sandman and Tommy Dreamer come out of the crowd (drinking delicious Miller Lites, per Man Law). The Sandman gets a mic and basically says, "OK, teach US about Extreme. Right now. I'm beggin' ya."

Timidly, Striker agrees for his team, and we've got....

Dreamer/Sandman vs. Striker/Dupree (Extreme Rules Match)

But out of the gate, while Sandman and Dreamer are preoccupied with getting Argyle boy to agree to the match, the dastardly Frenchman has moved behind Sandman and Dreamer, and grabbed a paddle out of Striker's desk (which itself should be a brief excuse for Tazz-related hilarity on commentary, since men-with-paddles are always funny). The (hopefully balsa wood) paddle is blasted across Sandman's skull, and when Dreamer turns to confront Dupree, Striker grabs Sandman's kendo stick, and uses it on Dreamer.

And we're off. The bad guys ride their early advantage as best they can, utilizing various nefarious weapons (including the evil French Tickler, for which Tazz will have remembered the lyrics this time around). Then there's eventually a hot tag to the slowly-recovering Sandman, and Dreamer Innovates some Violence (oh, let's say STAPLER TO THE BALLS is tonight's bit of naughtiness), and the good guys end up winning in decisive fashion.

[Segment Length: 15 minutes, including both Striker Mic Work and then the Match Itself;
Segment Entertainment Value: 8 out of 10 -- booked purely for the Crowd Pleasing Element;
Segment Wanker Value: 1/4 * -- they no-likey the fun garbage wrestling, that's why they're Wankers;
Total Elapsed Time: 1 hour, 50 minutes]

Some Filler: Maybe an ad for a new DVD or something; a plug for the Royal Rumble ("The Next Time ECW Will Join You On PPV"); or whatever other bidness needs to be conducted

Backstage: Kevin Thorne and Ariel are WALKING... and for some reason, they walk past a lonely and forlorn-looking Kelly Kelly. Ariel gets all bitchy and asks "Princess" what's the matter, and Kelly's all like "Stuff.... and stuff. Nothing, I guess. It's OK." Ariel continues teasing, saying Kelly's not as pretty as she thinks she is, her boyfriend doesn't even care about her, and she's pathetic. She asks Kevin, "I mean, you couldn't ever possibly be attracted that THAT, now could you?" The look on Kevin's face says "I'd drop this faggotty goth loser act in a heartbeat if I thought I had a chance with THAT." But the glare on Ariel's face says, "Hey, you ARE a faggotty goth loser, which is why you worship me, the queen of the slightly-above-average-looking slutty weirdo chicks, so don't even think aboutit." And eventually, they keep on WALKING~!, leaving Kelly on the brink of tears. Poor girl. You just want to hug her and cuddle and tell her everything's gonna be alright.... at least, until this all turns into a cheap Rick-Invented Ploy to get CM Punk doing a 2 month mini-program getting sucked into a feud with Thorne (defending Kelly's honor), which I still vote should eventually end with Kelly (assuming she's got the chops and personality to pull it off) turning on Punk and showing her true colors as a truly conniving and manipulative little harlot.

Kevin Thorne vs. Al Snow

Thorne hits the ring for what fans instinctively feel will probably just be a final palate cleansing squash match before the main event.... but are pleasantly surprised when Al Snow is announced as his opponent, and seems like he might actually stand a chance, here. Dum dums: they all llike Head so much they haven't realized that Poor Al hasn't won a match on TV in about 4 years.

That doesn't change here, but the two mesh well together, and Al both puts up a good fight and then (when the time is right) makes Mordecai Thorne's power offense look like a million bucks.

[Segment Length, including plugs, backstage skit, and match: 15 minutes;
Segment Entertainment Value: 7 out of 10 -- the skit plants a few interesting seeds, and the match is solid enough that it surpasses "Squash" Match status, and becomes the more effective "Showcase" Match;
Segment Wanker Value: ** -- most wankers agree with me that Thorne's an underrated big man, and that Al Snow is criminally underappreciated; also, wankers will like the part where Ariel tears into Kelly, because  most wankers are also the kind of losers who are deeply intimidated by chicks as sac-achingly cute as Kelly, but totally relate to and lust for the slightly-above-average-looking chicks like Ariel, even if they are demonstrably nutso;
Total Elapsed Time: 2 hours, 5 minutes]

Video Package: a full 5 minute package/piss break highlighting not only all six participants in the Chamber, but also the Chamber's own legacy and Heyman's tweaking of the match to include weapons. [Total Elapsed Time: 2 hours, 10 minutes]

Ring Introductions: the Random Introductions begin, with the announcement that as each of the four "non-starting" members are announced, they can pick their own "pod" and thus, pick their own weapon.

Champion Big Show enters first, and selects the Barbed Wire Bat Pod.

CM Punk enters second, and selects the Steel Chair Pod.

Test enters third, and selects the Tire Iron Pod.

Bobby Lashley, limping and clearly wounded, enters fourth, and gets the Banquet Table Pod by default.

It is underscored that the order of introduction and pod selection is INDEPENDENT from the Order of Entry into the match, which will be determined by a second random drawing.

Of course, at this point, it is clear to all that this means Rob Van Dam vs. Sabu -- both the best of partners and the worst of enemies in their long tenures with ECW -- will be how we start the Chamber Match. [Total Elapsed Time: 2 hours, 15 minutes]

Extreme Elimination Chamber Match for the ECW Title

Everyone's locked in their pods, RVD and Sabu enter the Chamber, and we're off. For five minutes, RVD and Sabu put on a display of highspottery that focuses on them each knowing and countering each other's moves. For sake of reference, let's say that this five minute sequence is at LEAST 73 times more entertaining than the snoozefest the two had on Tuesday night.

At the five minute mark, Test's pod opens, and he gets about 60 seconds of offense thanks to the tire iron, but he can't overcome the fact that Sabu and RVD are inclined to work together, so he also takes an additional 2 minutes of tag team beat down, and is eliminated at the 8 minute mark. Joey and Tazz note that "Test never really had any chance," which inspires viewers around the world to chuckle and say "I love shoot comments that aren't supposed to be shoot comments."

Sabu and RVD eyeball each other, and give us two more minutes of back-and-forthy until.... CM Punk and the Steel Chair are released at the 10 minute mark. Wankers everywhere orgasm simultaneously at the thought of their hero, CM Punk, flying around a steel Chamber with RVD and Sabu, and he rewards their faith in him by making the International Sign for This is an Indie Show and I Have Mutual Respect For You My Worthy Opponents. Punk goes so far as to put down the chair and gesture that he just wants in on the Good Clean Competitive Fun.

Punk is also a moron, who almost immediately gets whacked from behind by a tire iron, because Sabu's too old to do that bullshit indie wanker stuff. Van Dam punctuates this with one of his patented Hippie Shrugs of "Whatever Dude" and joins in on going after Punk. But even though both RVD and Sabu have chair-related moves in their arsenal, and they can start busting them out now that the chair is legal, Punk is a tougher SOB than Test, it turns out, and he lasts the entire five minutes (note: since I'm booking the show, I vote that this segment is Time Altered to actually be a bit longer than five minutes, and you can make it up on the segment between the third and fourth pods)....

And at the "15 minute" mark, Big Show is unleashed, with the Barbed Wire Bat. And since Punk's been getting beat down, and since RVD/Sabu have both been busting ass for a full 15 minutes at this point and are tired, Show has no problem going on a truly monstrous tear. After about 3 minutes, both RVD and Punk have kind of powdered out, and Show is left along with Sabu. Sabu is chokeslammed onto the barbed wire, and is eliminated by Big Show.

A minute later, the final pod is opened, and Bobby Lashley -- having gotten the benefit of a final 20 minutes of much-needed recovery time -- enters the match. For the time being, he leaves the table behind. Show is waiting for Lashley, and we kind of get into a phase of the match where RVD and Punk pair up and do a whole lot of cool shit together both in and around the ring (on the steel platform surrounding it), while Lashley and Big Show lumber around brawling back and forth with each other and try not to get in the way.

This goes on for several minutes, until Punk and RVD appear ready to do something extra-awesome. Van Dam gains the moderate advantage over Punk, and takes the chance to go into Lashley's pod to get the table. He sets it up. He gives Punk a few last token kicks to the head, and lays Punk across the table. Then RVD bounds to the top turnbuckle. Then he is hit by Inspirado, and Spidermans over onto the chain-link "wall" of the chamber, and uses it to climb BAH GAWD ON TOP OF ONE OF THE PODS!

From the top of the pod, RVD leaps and tries to deliver a Five Star Frog Splash, but CM Punk moves out of the way with his last ounce of energy, and Van Dam crashes through the table. 

This would be a good spot to quickly check in on what Lashley and Show are doing, and Lashley should be starting to gain an advantage on Show after valiantly fighting back from his earlier beating and all that. Maybe he uses the tire iron to start chopping Big Show down.

But let's check back on Punk and RVD, who are now both starting to stir. Punk is to his feet first, but RVD joins him. RVD tries to strike first with a spin kick, but Punk ducks, and counters that with his Amazing Flurry of Judo Bitchslaps (or whatever you call that thing he does). Per custom, he tries to immediately follow that up with the Anaconda Vice, but RVD flips out, and they begin a quick triple-reversey spot in which RVD seems to counter into a DDT, but Punk recounters with a backdrop, but RVD grabs an ankle and tries to mat wrestle, but Punk smoothly counters that by floating immediately over and applying the Anaconda Vice. RVD has no choice but to tap out, and is eliminated at the 28 minute mark.

As RVD leaves, Punk moves towards Lashley and Big Show. Big Show is hurting as a result of Lashley chopping him down with tire iron shots to the leg, leaving Show standing, but hanging on the ropes for support. Punk and Lashley make Significant Eye Contact, and Punk nods knowingly. Punk finds the Steel Chair, and brings it over. Lashley steps aside. Punk wallops Show in the face with the chair. He teeters, but he doesn't fall. Lashley jumps back in with a tire iron shot to the back of the leg. Show drops to his knees. Chairshot to the face from Punk. Finally, Big Show tumbles all the way to the mat.

Realizing they'll need something huge to eliminate the reigning ECW Champ, Lashley and Punk quickly huddle, and Lashley hoists Big Show up into a Fireman's Carry, while Punk goes up to the top rope. When the positioning is right, Punk leaps off, and Show is nailed with a combination Samoan Drop/Flying Neckbreaker. Lashley and Punk both pile on top, and Show is pinned at the 30 minute mark.

As Show is spatulaed out of the ring, Lashley and Punk eyeball each other and quickly slap hands to indicate "Let's Do This." Lashley gains a moment or so of early advantage with his power, but Punk's speed and technique eventually catch up to him, what with the pounding he's taken not only in this match, but earlier in the night. This leads up to Punk eventually hitting his Bitchslap Flurry again, and this time, when he immediately goes for the Anaconda Vice follow up, he cinches it in almost instantly!

But he's cinched it in close enough to the ropes that Lashley can grab the bottom rope. There's no rope breaks in a Chamber match, but Lashley CAN use them for leverage, to lessen the torqueing of the Vice, and also to help manfully drag himself up to his feet against all odds. Which is precisely what he does. With Punk still clinging to his back and vicing away. With his last ditch effort, Lashley maneuvers Punk around, and drops him, crotch-first, across the top rope. As Lashley falls down and regains his breath, Punk has had his knocked out of him, and eventually falls outside the ring onto the steel platform.

Lashley recovers, and heads outside the ring. Punk recovers, and gets back on his feet right in front of one of the pods. Lashley starts a dead sprint. Punk turns just in time to see Lashley one step away from him and charging hard. Punk is speared through the plexiglass wall of the pod. "Holy Shit" says the crowd.

Punk is dead, but Lashley's not feeling much better. Lashley takes his own sweet time regaining his feet. Then dragging Punk into the ring. Pinfall. One. Two. OH MY GOD HOW DID HE KICK OUT?!?!?!? Punk escapes at the last possible nanosecond. The crowd goes nuts. But Lashley? He smells blood. He picks up Punk's still-mostly-limp body, nails the Dominator, and covers again.

This time? One. Two. And Three. Your Winner, and new ECW Champion: Bobby Lashley. He celebrates to close out the show.

[Match Length: 35 minutes;
Match Entertainment Value: 9 out of 10 -- if I know my ECW fans, they would have gotten more behind Punk than Lashley, resulting in mild disappointment at the finish, but this also sets the stage for the possibility of a slow and organic heelish turn for Lashley if he is wooed by Heyman now that Show's no longer his puppet... the prospects for a six-month slow burn on Punk vs. a Heymanized Lashley really intrigue me, and I think would maximize the value of Punk's first real attempt at the ECW Title;
Match Wanker Value: **** -- all will grant it was a solidly dramatic match that "played to the strengths of everybody involved," but still won't give it as much credit as the Hardys/MNM match, because the wankers will probably be bitter at the notion of RVD and Sabu both being so clearly shoved out of the ECW main event picture in favor of an interloper from SD!;
Total Event Length: 2 hours, 50 minutes of Pretty Damned Goodness]

If I were dumb enough to pay for December to Dismember, and I got THIS on Sunday, I gotta admit: I'd walk away pretty freaking pleased. Of course, I'm a mark for my own ideas. Your mileage may vary. But if it does, I'd be curious to hear from you about the hows and whys.

And a Few NewsBites For Good Measure 

  • Just to close out the week, I'll also pile on a few little bits of news.... starting with ratings.
     
    Last week's Thanksgiving Night edition of Impact did a 0.9 rating. Although down one-tenth from the week before, the fact that TNA held onto that much of its audience despite it being the holiday has gotta count as good news. [Then again, let's also keep in mind that SpikeTV was doing James Bond movies all Thanksgiving, and across the board, was pulling significantly higher ratings than their usual daily average, and probably drawing a slightly different kind of TNA-friendly "Guy Audience" than the CSI or whatever it is that provides the 8pm lead-in.]
     
    Last week's SD! did a 2.5 rating, which was a slight drop off from the week before. WWE would no doubt like to blame the holiday weekend, as well. But that holds no water with me, since if you're blaming the kind of idiots who'd actually spend their Thanksgiving Friday out shopping like morons for not watching your TV show, then your audience is a bunch of marginal tards to begin with.
     
    Monday's RAW did a 3.8, which is identical to the week before. But still over a third-of-a-point off pre-September averages. Worse: there was zero "Post-PPV Intrigue" ratings bump. Which doesn't bode well for how much people cared about Survivor Series and its fall-out.
     
    And Tuesday's ECW? As mentioned above, a pathetic series low of 1.5, with no real excuse readily available other than "WWE's not giving us any reason to watch."
     
  • SD! is being taped tomorrow night, then WWE has the ECW PPV on Sunday, and then RAW is live on Monday.... and THEN its a hellish week of travel for a crew of about 25-30 guys and girls, as they head to Iraq for the now-annual holiday tour and show.
     
    For obvious reasons, there is no announced schedule or locations for any of the WWE events, but they'll be taking place at points throughout next week.
     
    Then the footage that they tape will be used for RAW and SD! shows on Christmas night (Monday, Dec. 25) and on Friday December 29. Nothing is being taped for ECW (which will just be a "Best of 2006" show on Dec. 26), which makes certain rumors about RVD even more ridiculous and petty sounding.
     
  • SD!'s Michelle McCool is still hospitalized with a semi-mystery ailment that has her kidney messed up and her electrolytes imbalanced and all kinds of weird shit. It's unknown if the condition is in any way related to an in-ring injury, or if it's an infection/complication to a past injury, or what. It's just got her knocked on her ass, with no clear cut prognosis for a return.
     
    Certainly, this blows chunks, as McCool was (along with Kristal) one of SD!'s two best reasons to be in possession of a wang. Oh: and she's also worked just about as hard as anybody in an attempt to one day be taken seriously for her athletic skills, and still hasn't gotten a chance to showcase any of that. Best wishes for a speedy recovery, and all that.
     
  • On a less scary note: everybody's favorite piece of scenery, Candice Michelle, was playing wrestler on Monday night, and apparently dislocated her nose following a kick from Victoria. Surgery will be required to effect a full recovery.
     
  • Going back to a kinda-scary note: Roddy Piper's problem has been diagnosed as Hodgkin's Lymphoma. Yes, it's cancer, but (without turning this into that one episode of "Curb Your Enthusiasm" where Larry is convinced there's Good Cancer and Bad Cancer or something like that) it's a type that has an EXCELLENT chance of full recovery according to both WWE.com and Piper's website.
     
    A non-cancerous mass was removed from Piper's back a few weeks ago, which led to the discovery of cancer in his lymph nodes. He has already begun an aggressive chemo treatment, and so let's all keep our fingers crossed for Hot Rod, OK?
     
  • WWE is being forced to play a little public relations game, as a father in Indonesia has blamed his son's death on WWE's programming. It's the old "imitating what he saw on TV" ploy. 
     
    Christ, I guess I'd be upset with Indonesia for being about 6 years behind the curve on the "retarded frivolous accusations" front.... but they only ousted whoever was censoring their TV stations a few years ago, and are relatively new to this whole WWE thing. I guess every nation has a god-given right to have its citizen act like morons, eh?
     
    Still: WWE has (rightfully) been absolved in every case like this so far, as they cannot be held accountable for either Bad Parents nor for Stupid Children. So why even bother wasting their time (and by extension, MY TIME) by acknowledging/responding to this crap? Isn't there a legal equivalent of just pointing, saying "Scoreboard," and walking away smugly?
     
  • Casting some doubt on her plans to include WWE in her wrestling future, Amy "Lita" Dumas is already accepting indie bookings to supplement her aspirations to get her music and/or acting careers off the ground.
     
    Then again, Edge's mention of Lita on Monday no doubt means that nobody is considering the door to a WWE return completely shut, either. At least, not until she goes and does something like appear on TNA.
     
  • Chris Jericho's XM Radio show has been cancelled, leading me to once again contemplate what a tiny and petty man I am that I periodically wish Complete and Abysmal Failure upon Jericho, so that he will walk away from Los Angeles, complete an exhaustive Undoucheing Detox Program, quit looking like a tool, get back to being funny and lovable, and have no choice but to return to ply his trade on my Wrestling TV Shows to make a living.
     
    I don't care HOW miserable Triple H and Stephanie make him.... *my* needs are the only ones that matter!
     
  • Lastly, just a few thoughts about this week's TV shows so far. RAW first:
     
    Decent enough show, even if only because of the well-done hype and build-up to the strong main event. Remember: finish strong, and the Rick can forgive a few more mistakes than usual.
     
    Mistakes like that soul-crushingly dumb attempt to recreate the Kramer Kontroversy. Seriously: whoever wrote that needs to jump off a tall building, and whoever OK'ed it for national TV consumption needs to insert a rusty railroad spike into his own eyeball. I'm not against a little comedy on my rasslin' show (and have even found much of Cryme Tyme's antics to be mildly amusing), but when what you come up with makes the shit that SNL cuts out of the show look like comedic gold? You're seriously not a talented individual.
     
    The "Ship to: OVW, Louisville" bit with the Spirit Squad was a bit.... odd. But not entirely unfunny or unappreciated. Means that they got smart to the idea that no fans cared enough about any individual members of the Squad to bother trying with a break-up/repackaging.
     
    Now, all we need next week is for Carlito to ask DX to borrow on of their shipping stickers, and make sure he affixes it firmly to Chris F. Masters' acne-riddled back after finishing up with him, once and for all. Oh, the joy that would bring me!
     
  • Then, onto Tuesday's ECW. Yes, it had no Bob Holly. Which is good. But yes, WWE moved from pushing Bob Holly for no discernable reason to pushing and "protecting" freaking TEST for equally confounding reasons. You're telling me you think anybody really believes Test can win the Elimination Chamber? And that you accomplished ANYthing by not just giving CM Punk that win? Throw in a second pointless/predictable non-finish for Show/Lashley (there, at least I completely understand why you want to protect both men), and it's just too much lame for me.
     
  • And finally, last night's TNA....
     
    Let's just say that I've arrivened at my Final Conclusion about this new Russo Era: He's doing pretty much the same spastic, low-attention-span "flinging shit at the wall to see what sticks" thing that he did in his hey-day with the WWF, and that's not without some charm. But there are two big differences between now and then: (1) Russo's style worked a lot better when he had three hours a week (RAW and the pre-suck era of Heat) and he seemed to have more time to deliver a higher Hit Ratio; and (2) somebody else always held the throttle and had final veto authority over Russo (including VKM, Patterson, etc.), which is probably another reason why his Hit Ratio seemed higher back then.
     
    But with one hour a week and nobody holding his reins, 2006 Vince Russo's heavy-hand-prints are just all over the place, and so far, the results are that any overall improvements to TNA's watchability have been incremental at best.
     
    Let's not deny the good things that are happening (even a few that don't include Your Favorite Wrestler, Kevin Nash!)... but by the same token, let's not give a free pass to the kind of "writing" that I think would even have Noted Hollywood Dumdum JJ Abrams scratching his head and saying "You know, even *I* don't think that's very good writing. I only pulled prehistoric polar bear monkeys out of my ass without any rhyme, reason, or explanation, but you've got Tomko suddenly claiming a deep, secret past with Abyss even though Abyss has always been in TNA, and until a few months ago Tomko was in WWE." 
     
    Not to mention the whole silly thing with Sting trying to save Abyss' soul, also for now readily apparent or established reason. And calling him "Chris" for no reason. Granted, I would have died if Mitchell, trying to save that mess, had called Sting "Gordon," forcing Sting to remind him "Wrong Sting," but I don't think Russo was trying to play this think for laughs. [In fact, given the parties involved, there's almost no doubt that we're supposed to be getting some preacher overtones, and though it'll doom me to yet another eternity in hell, I'm just gonna call "Too Jesusy" on the thing, and say I have no desire to see this play out further. Then again, if the Jesusy-ness and the Tomko thing are ultimately tied together in a Vince Russo SuperPlot in which Tomko and Abyss were once molested as altar boys and forced to be all gay with a priest and with each other, I guess all could be forgiven. OMG BLASPHEMY~!]
     
    Another in the "let's acknowledge the good, but not ignore the bad" file.... OK, so shifting AJ Styles over to a heel role is probably a really good idea, and the best way to mask his utter lack of personality in a company that is trying to get a bit more "entertainment driven." But how freaking awful was that skit with him and Tenay? I mean: plus 10 for the idea of trying to steal from the seminal Mankind/JR interviews. Minus several million for the execution. I don't know if TNA edited the piece that way because AJ Styles is just a borderline-dimwit who can't sustain a personality for more than one sentence at a time, of if they edited him down to one sentence at a time because they actually thought that made for the most compelling segment. But let's just say Mick Foley's 90 second, seamless diatribes that so effectively blurred the line between Mankind the Wrestler and Foley the Man, this was not. Not even close. To shoehorn one of my favorite words into this analysis, AJ Styles' interview segment last night was a Gravitas Free Zone.
     
    Oh, wait, I have a shorter answer to "How freaking awful was the AJ Styles skit?": not even one-tenth as bad as the Voodoo Kin Mafia crap. But you probably deduced that from the way I opened my Fantasy Version of December to Dismember, didn't you?
     
  • I think that's all I got for today. It's quite enough, don't you think? For a guy whose output is minimal these days, I'm pretty proud of churning out that ECW PPV for you. That's good reads, people.
     
    It may take me until the end of next week before I can write anything up again my own self, but gods willing, I'll try to sneak in a couple other updates of other folks columns/recaps between now and then.
     
    Later on, kids....


  
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E-MAIL RICK SCAIA

BROWSE THE OO ARCHIVES

Rick Scaia is a wrestling fan from Dayton, OH.  He's been doing this since 1995, but enjoyed it best when the suckers from SportsLine were actually PAYING him to be a fan.

 

 

 


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