Well it looks as if I’ve made it through the busiest few weeks of the working year. My students are now almost settled in their classes and are falling nicely in to the gloomy pace of British student life. Wrestlegasm.com should be back on track by the start of next week. You’re excited? Yeah, me too. Time for some Smackdown.
CM Punk wasn’t given much to do in the first Smackdown after Breaking Point. It was all about smoke, mirrors and Teddy Long’s pitiful dramatic skills. So it was time for Punk to get himself back in the game. He did a bit of a promo where he reminded us of his long list of achievements. Oh and apparently he achieved it all by himself without any help from us. Well that’s kind of mean. I put my journalistic news hound skills to good use, set up a highly popular feature paying homage to Punk’s trunks and he can’t even be bothered to say thank you.
Just as Punk began reminiscing about that fateful night where he banished Jeff Hardy from the company forevaaaaah, he was interrupted by a bevy of pallbearers in overstretched hoodies, carrying a large coffin, with moody blue lighting and chamber music. Once the eight grim reapers had delivered the coffin to ringside, the lights went up and Punk took a chair to guard himself against whatever creepy corpse happened to be inside.
It turns out the only creepy thing inside was Teddy Long, who had been MIA for a whole week and nobody seemed to care. Man, that suit’s gotta REEK! And it’s AMAZING that Teddy’s been held hostage for seven days and still looks relatively clean shaven. Taker may have been so angry that he whisked Teddy off in a limousine from disco hell, but he’s not so harsh that he’d deny a man the dignity of a shave and some Gillette Aftershave Balm.
We’ll never know quite what happened to Theodore Long during his week as a hostage at the hands of The Undertaker, but it was awful enough that once he returned he immediately informed CM Punk that the ban on Taker’s Hell’s Gate submission hold had been lifted, that Punk would defend his title against the dead man at the Hell in a Cell PPV and they would have a warm up match on Smackdown that night.
Moving on, John Morrison and Finlay were up against Mike Knox and Dolph Ziggler. It seems we’ve seen the last of Mike Knox’s medical advice. It appears Restless Leg Syndrome was a step too far. I’ve been a tad worried about Smackdown of late. Things have gone from cool to silly rather rapidly since The Undertaker’s been back at work. Nothing against a legend or anything, but his ‘magical powers’ tend to lend themselves to silliness. This match was a nice little of reminder of why Smackdown’s roster members are still the cool kids everyone wants to be.
Despite these four fighting each other in various combos over the past few weeks, it was pretty wicked. John Morrison is a real superstar. In the ring, at least. His verbal insults need some work. Thankfully there was no mention of Ziggles this week. But if Morrison isn’t on the front of WWE kiddies’ lunchboxes soon, I’ll eat my WWE kiddies’ lunchbox.
Slam Master J got all up in Kane’s grill. Then had his own grill knocked out. J’s ghetto homies weren’t impressed.
Mr. McMahon was in town again and CM Punk jumped on the opportunity to garner some support, but didn’t get too far. Most importantly, why is this lady sleeping?
She’s going to be right pissed off when she wakes up and realises CM Punk just brushed past shoulder. Reminds me of when I went to the museum and found the guide in the blue whale room sleeping under a stuffed dolphin. For real. Look!
This week’s show was from Oklahoma. The Sooner state. ????? Actually, I know what it means but I’m British so I’m not supposed to understand such complex American things. Although, I do tend to confuse it was the numerous bird-named college-sports teams. Can a Sooner fly? I kid, I kid. I have something against Oklahoma. I think it stems from when I read a newspaper article a few years ago where a girl from the state was suspended from school because her principal believed she practiced witchcraft. Then again, it could have been Mississippi. Or Louisiana. And if Hugh Jackman is willing to appear in the state’s Broadway musical namesake, I’ll let it go. Mr. McMahon was not so forgiving and proceeded to insult the crowd a treat. He was really there to plug the following week’s ten years of Smackdown extravaganza where superstars from the past decade will be getting together for a celebratory shindig.
From there Mr. M announced the arrival of Drew McIntyre.
Nice to see he’s dressed up for the occasion. Actually, I called him up and told him he’d better put a jacket on if he’s going to be shaking hands with the boss. He did a promo. And because he has a Scottish accent the crowd chanted USA! USA! USA! at him. Everyone knows Americans are the best. The best at chanting three letters over and over again in a monotone fashion. Oh, I’m just taking the mick, America. You know I love you dearly.
R-Truth didn’t care for the Scottish lilt spilling out from the ring either and arrived in his combat gear to take McIntyre out. A fight ensued and Drew ripped his shirt open. It was pleasing on so many levels.
Big Show and Batista had a match. It went like this…..
Jericho stripped off his tie and jacket, and took the role of ringside cheerleader. He later got dragged in to ring and found himself in a pickle.
Backstage, Teddy still looked like he should be on a street corner selling The Big Issue and Mr. McMahon had no sympathy. He was more concerned with the fact that his picture still didn’t have pride of place on the office wall. He forced the hobo to reveal how far he’d gone to make it happen and was faced with this.
Don’t know what he’s so wound up about. I kind of like it. Graffiti and street art are flavour of the month at the moment. I’ll pay you £8.99 for it. Make sure you pack it well. Don’t skimp on the bubble wrap!
From there we went to Cryme Tyme vs The Hart Dynasty, which was ok but quite obviously filler. The Hart Dynasty won and D.H Smith pulled a stupid face. Which Todddescribed as Smith celebrating like he’d just won the Superbowl. Next time a British-Canadian wins a Superbowl ring, I’ll pull that face too.
Josh Matthews found himself faced with a sweaty, huffing and puffing Dave Batista and asked him who his tag partner was going to be at the PPV. After many a clue it was revealed to be…….
Last contest of the evening went to Punk and Undertaker, which was a neat little build up to Hell in a Cell. Taker did lots of cat-like creeping and Punk did lots of heads between legs stuff. Look at The Undertaker. He knows he’ll never have the skills or the fashions to make an appearance on Crotch Watch, so he shoves his head in to Punk’s groin to get in the shot. That’s just sad, Taker. Just. Sad.
Punk pulled some more shifty shenanigans and managed to nick off with the belt as the result of a count-out. Taker was most displeased. I was kind of hoping he’d cry. At least then his horrendous eyeliner might have smudged into a less harsh line. McCool, buy your man a new blending brush and stop trying to make yourself look better by keeping his make-up ghastly.
This week we have a special decade of Smackdown thingy going on. I hear it includes and appearance from the Rock. Major wrestlegasms round my place tonight. I shall report on their intensity over the weekend.