Ok, so my Raw recap read like I called up my assistant and told him/her to paraphrase the results on wwe.com. But in my defence…. oh you don’t care. I hope this one comes off a tad better. You can be the judge. And no, I don’t have an assistant. If my life were being organised by someone else right now I’d fire them for doing such a crappy job. Anyway…….
Let’s be honest, at the end of the previous Smackdown CM Punk was a total dick. I enjoyed it, but the small children and the Jeff Hardy marks were very upset with Punk for knocking their boy out and calling him garbage. But, the start of last week’s show took him to a whole new level of heely hatred. The audience waited patiently for the first superstar to appear at the top of the ramp, when all of a sudden Jeff Hardy’s music started playing.
The squeal of excitement that ran through the pre-teens in the crowd was possibly audible only by the canine community. JEFF’S BAAAAA-AAACK! Or was he. Errrr, he wasn’t. CM Punk went to the trouble of dressing up like every 8 year old’s halloween costume and duped the public in to thinking their hero had returned from his week of chillin’ and buying scramblers.
Punk bounced his way to the ring in beautiful facepaint, with some stretchy armbands and one of those belts they sell at Hot Topic. He pumped him body to the rockin’ music and ……….. He. Looked. Fierce. TYRA fierce.
The audience were not amused. It was the greatest thing I’ve seen in ages. And I watched my cat rip a single page out of my allure magazine this week with just one paw. It had Scarlett Johansson on it. She’s not a fan. I taught her well. (That really did happen!)
After removing the toxic Jeffness that was all over him, Punk called the Undertaker out in front of ‘his magical eyes’. (wha?) Taker failed to send his RSVP and Punk continued. By the way, what is this ‘Alls’ thing he says instead of ‘All’. “Alls you people need is a few…..”. Is that a Chicago thing? I like it. It’s cute. You’re cute, America. Taker still declined to show his face, but young Matthew Hardy felt just the opposite. Matt attacked, they had to be separated by the striped ones and I contemplated why Punk looks hotter in a vest than topless.
I’ll skip over Finlay and Khali beating scary Mike Knox and Kane and jump ahead to possibly the prettiest jacket I’ve ever seen a man wear. Mr. McMahon had obviously just hopped off his yacht, which was moored in Cleveland Marina, to be at the show. Something’s missing though. Can’t quite put my finger on it……..
Vince and Teddy squabbled about their fashions and Mr. M. promised to let T. Long borrow his pepto jacket one day. If he’s a good little boy. Teddy was thrilled.
Over in the ladies make-up room Maria and Eve were getting all glammed up when Michelle McCool hobbled in on her crutches and basically told Maria she was an ugly cow with terrible personal style. Hey!!!! Shutup, Michelle. Maria got the idea for that hair colour from ME! Got something to say about it? Maria blasted back, Michelle did one of those weird ghetto head-snaps and Melina showed up to give her girls some support.
McCool hopped away again and once the dust had settled Melina asked Maria if she’d had chance to discuss the reports of Dolph’s philandering with the man himself. Maria shunned her former BFF and disappeared with Eve, her new best pal. Oh, isn’t high school a wrench, Melina?
Rey Mysterio has to spend 30 days sitting on the naughty step for forgetting to bring his prescription to work, so he had to drop the Intercontinental Title to John Morrison while he rode his punishment out. You know when you’re about to do a detox week, and you eat a really huge piece of chocolate cake the day before because you know you’ll be eating nothing but brown rice and savoy cabbage for the next seven days? This match was Rey Mysterio’s slice of cake.
It was an awesome match. Another one to keep on the external hard drive to show non-fans why you watch this stuff. I get the feeling it was a bittersweet victory for Morrison though.
Once again, Drew McIntyre took R-Truth out of the game before he even had a chance to get started. Nothing more to say on that other than WHO THE HELL IS DRESSING THIS BOY?
Oversized golf shirt? Supermarket slacks? Are they trying to imply that people from my fair isle don’t know how to dress with flair? I’m offended. At least they didn’t make him wear a kilt. Well, it’s not like WWE peddles racial stereotypes or anything, right?
Maria and Eve took Layla and Natalya out in their tag match. This guy was happy.
If submission matches are your bag, Matt Hardy vs Punk was awesome. If you tend to prefer a little bit of speedy action, it felt a little slow to get going. If I tell you I love ice hockey and dislike baseball you can probably guess which side I came down on for this match!
Yes, I have got a talking Tampa Bay Rays ball. Yes, because it has my name on it! Calling me a loser when I already know I’m one is not an insult, ok? I tried, baseball, I really tried. But we’re not meant to me a couple. Don’t hate me. We can be friends, just without the benefits. I met hockey before you and I never stopped loving it. *HUGS*
Back to wrestling. The match continued and Punk looked like he was getting the upper hand over Matt Hardy. Todd Grisham was disgusted and blurted out “Look how proud Punk is! Like he’s just saw his son graduate from high school!”
Things were looking bleak for Matt, as Punk attempted to fit him with a chair necklace, much like he did to Jeff. But hold the phone, the show is almost over and still no Undertaker! Oh, wait, here he is. The demon of death valley (Thanks, JR) appeared and chokeslammed Punk through the announce table. Not that I’m a wrestler or anything, but Punk, next time Taker’s claw reaches for your neck, run in the OPPOSITE direction. Don’t run at him with your neck on full show. Hold on, this was my fault. I passed on Tyra Banks’ advice to smile with your eyes and not lose your neck. Sorry, sweets. Forgive me?