RAW Satire 2/27/06
Because Rick is Sick, here's something to read:
Last Week: My Darling Stacy took home the bronze because the friggin’ American Public looooooooves Jerry Rice. Yeah. Fi and a pox on thee America! Drew Lachey can kiss my ass. Jessica was the real brains in that family. At least the Italian Judge had enough sense to want to bone her. Oh, and Marty Jannetty made a surprise return to borrow twenty bucks from Shawn Michaels. And was that Hacksaw Jim Duggan? Geez. Who will we drag out of mothballs…TONIGHT?!
Man, they really got an alluring picture of Vince pulling down his pants there. Lookin’ swell, there Mr…Woah, is this thing on? Oh snap. Hello everyone and welcome to RAW Satire! Here’s Edge and Lita along with Death Valley, to greet us. Sup, Edge?
Edge: I bet you’re all wondering “’Sup, Edge?” Well, I’ll tell you what’s up! The sky! Hahahahaha!
Lita: Edge, honey, it’s time we really had a talk about this whole catchphrase situation….
Edge: No! I’m out here to talk about Mick Foley! Last week, Mick Foley, I challenged you to a match at WrestleMania! Now what do you say, fat boy? Huh? Are you going to accept my challenge, or am I going to have to take that sweat sock, roll it up real nice, light that blunt up and say PIMPIN’ AIN’T EASY?!
Lita: That was…what?!
Stone Cold Steve Austin: Aw, hell son, you can have that one. I ain’t gonna be usin’ it any time soon. You can have “Eh-EH!” too if you want.
Sean Cold Val Venis: What about me? Can I have one of your catchphrases?
Austin: Hell no, now get on up out of here before I whip yer ass! And that’s the bottom line cuz-
Edge: Edge said so! Yeah!
Austin: You’re making me very angry right now.
Edge: Oh yeah? Well…Fear the SPEAR! Period.
Lita: I just can’t TAKE THIS ANY MORE! Go back to the goddamn salad if you have to. This is terrible.
Mick Foley: Is that how you hope to impress me into a Wrestlemania-type match, Edge? Stealing catchphrases because you can’t come up with a good one on your own? That’s not cool. I spit in the face of people who don’t want to be cool!
Randy Orton: That’s not entitly true, Mist! I spat into the farce of destiny once!
Foley: Yeah. I guess you did at that.
Edge: So what say you, Mick? To be the man, you’ve got to beat the man! And I’m…I’m the man.
Foley: Never before has that line come off so convincingly. All right, Edge. I’ll tell you what. Since I bothered to fly all the way down here to insert name of town, I’m going to remind you of the fact that I’ve held three world titles, which is fully two more titles than you have held.
Edge: Well, let me remind you that I’ve held a world title that spins around!
Edge: You know, I’ve never lost a match at Wrestlemania?
Orton: The Takerster’s followed me from Snackdown! I’ve gotta hide!
Orton ducks underneath Lillian Garcia.
Edge: Furthermore, at least I’ll be remembered for something more than being thrown off things and wearing socks on my hands! Which is all people remember you for because you suck! Now can you dig that? FOLEY?!
Foley: All right…Whatever. Let’s just have a Hardcore match. I can still probably still hit people with things. That shouldn’t be too hard.
Edge: This will be my greatest conquest yet!
Then Mick Foley takes out a barbed wire baseball bat and hits Alex Rodriguez in the face. Screw you WBC.
Kane and Big Show are walking to the ring. Together. Why?
Sean Cold Val Venis and Viscera v. Kane and The Big Show
For the WWE World Tag Team Titles
Woah these guys are still tag team champions? Even they look a little shocked about it. Viscera’s ditched “The World’s Largest Pajamas” and has gone back to his “Wearing a purple couch” outfit. Kane and Show get bored with beating the crap out of Val, so they team up to light Lillian on fire. Oh, what Randy didn’t need was a little more Kane. He sees Kane, freaks out, and trips over WWE Time Keeper Mark Yeaton. Orton wins! Congrats on defeating…yourself. Kane and Show team up to double chokeslam Viscera’s fat ass. After their big win, Kane and Show shake hands, and make nice. They’ll see each other to defend the tag titles next month.
Todd Grisham is backstage with Ric Flair. This can’t end well….
Todd Grisham: Todd Grisham here, and I’m standing by with The Nature Boy Ric Flair, and Ric, I’ve gotta ask you…what the hell was your old ass doing having a title anyway?
Ric Flair: WOO! Because to be the man, you’ve gotta beat the man! And I’m the man. WOO!
Grisham: No you’re not! You’re like…823 years old!
Flair: No, no! I just had my birthday on Sunday! I’m 824!
Grisham: So retire already! I don’t understand why you feel the need to hold down a roster spot while good guys like The Heart Throbs and The Dicks are getting released! I know you have to pay off all your IRS debts because you’re an idiot, but why should they pay you to sit around and be an old fatass when there are younger more deserving guys on the roster!
Flair: WOO! That’s why you’re the champ!
Grisham: God, I hate you. You used to be cool!
Flair: And I used to take your old lady for a ride on Space Mountain, fat boy! WOO! That’s right! I’m your father!
Grisham: If that’s true, then I can’t help but hate myself!
Todd dives into a paper shredder. Todd Grisham has fallen.
Flair: Hahaha! I’m not actually his father. WOO!
David Flair: I know how he feels though.
Flair: You’re no son of mine!
Flair: Hahaha…No. I’m you’re dad.
Elsewhere backstage, Marty Jannetty pensively sips a ham and cheese sandwich.
Marty Jannetty: Oh man! This is so good! I haven’t had a real ham sandwich since the last time I was mercy hired by WWE.
Shawn Michaels: Listen, man. You don’t have to do this. Don’t humiliate yourself on TV for money, man. I’m sure TNA will take you. You can feud with Jarrett!
Jannetty: Are you wearing a tube top?
HBK: That’s not important! You shouldn’t go out there and kiss Vince’s ass!
Jannetty: And you think ME wearing tassels is fruity? You’re wearing a friggin’ tube top!
HBK: Whyspyr and I were talking, and I accidentally packed some of her clothes and….
Jannetty: Man, I’m sorry. I can’t take anything you say seriously when you’re wearing that.
HBK: …I thought it looked nice.
Maria Punk (nee Tennyson Lund) is standing by with Carlito.
Maria Punk (nee Tennyson Lund): Maria Punk neep Tennyson Lund here, and I’m standing by with Carlito, and Carlito I’ve got to ask, how’s the ol’ Bank on It match coming together for Wrestlemania.
Carlito Caribbean Cool: Well, it turns out that since RAW still doesn’t have any GMs, we can make whatever the hell matches we want. I just found out that Tyson Tomko v. Danny Basham was booked for WrestleMania while nobody was looking. So I penciled it in after the epic Abe Orton vs. Matt Striker contest. That one’s gonna be cool. So anyway, I guess there’s qualifying matches or something. I don’t know. We’re pretty much making this up as we go.
Maria: You can tell me! Who’s going to be in the match?
Carlito: Well, since you totally just flashed me some side boob, I’ll tell you that it’s probably just going to be Ric Flair vs. A Pile of Hand Puppets. Then he’s going to hawk the briefcase on WWE.com, and Chris Tian is going to bid on it and he’s going to come and win a real World Title. Then I’m going to spit in his face for not wanting to be cool.
Maria: This year’s WrestleMania is shaping up to be a real winner!
Carlito: Yeah. I don’t even think I’m going to watch it. I’ll see if somebody is showing some gay cowboy movie marathon or something that night.
Maria: Best of luck on your future endeavors.
Trevor Murdoch v. Rob Van Dam
In a Money in the Bank Qualifying Match
Ok, raise your hands if you think Trevor Murdoch is going to WrestleMania. Ok, you guys, go punch yourselves in the nuts. Rob and Murdoch fight over who had the most pointless random tag team careers, and Rob wins that particular battle, because teaming up with Booker T and Jeff Jarrett IS pretty crappy, but nothing quite beats out being overshadowed by Kane everywhere you go. Murdoch sets RVD up for the Golden Globes, but it’s Oscar Season, baby! And the winner for Best Oversell of Your Own Finishing Move goes to RVD for Flopping After Frogsplash (directed by Michael Bay). RVD qualifies!
Boobsie McTitsalot (w/ Torrie Wilson) v. Trish Stratus (w/ Alexis Laree)
For the WWE Women’s Title
Dammit, where the hell is Chloe?! I spent $500,000 of WWE money to put her on Team RAW Satire! At least Shelton’s Mama is racking up big points! Torrie announces Boobsie at well over 500 pounds, which I think is a bit harsh. At least half of that is boobs. Boobsie gains control early with some Magic Wand based offense, and after turning Trish into a lima bean, she does her Rolling Thighs dance, much to the delight of Rob Van Dam who calls it “Yeah! All Right!!” Torrie tries to help her out by calling the match from ringside, but unfortunately, letting Torrie call a match just leads to Boobsie landing on top of her head on a failed Shooting Star Press. After Trish wins, she and Alexis celebrate with a little softcore oral sex, but then Trish remembers that there’s nothing worse than having a big wet spot on your crotch during the meet and greets with the disabled kids, so she has to take a rain check this time. So, wait…Alexis didn’t intentionally break Ashley?
Backstage, Torrie tells Boobsie that she should get used to losing, because nobody wants to buy a Playboy for a girl they barely care about anyway, especially since you can’t animate the rolling thighs dance accurately on paper. Boobsie responds by eating a whole pan full of muffins.
What kind of muffins, you ask? Why, APPLE DOUGH! Because THE CHAMP IS HERE! Let’s see what he has to say?
John Cena: Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo! YO! YOOOOOOO! THE CHAMP IS HERE!
Jonathan Coachman: John, in just a few short weeks you’re headlining WrestleMania, and it’s worse than LAST year. You don’t even have Triple H and “Dave” Batista “Davidson” to fall back on this year! Randy Orton is in the other main event! Dire straights for you, champ!
John Cena: You can’t see me!
Here’s Triple H for the win.
Triple H: Ach! I can’t take this crap anymore! Listen, I’m not going to let you drag me down, kid. I’ve had to feud with a bunch of crappy guys at Mania in the past, but I’m not going to let you be the one that finally kills my drawing power.
Cena: I’m the champ, homey! Recognize!
HHH: All right, that’s the first thing we need to work on. Look at you. You’re dressed like you just went to K-Mart and bought whatever was on Blue Light Special. Jean Shorts, Pump Up Sneakers from 1994, and a T-Shirt that barely makes sense. Kid, if you want anybody to take you seriously, you could at least buy ONE nice suit. Or for Pete’s sake, some pants.
Cena: Choke on deez nuts!
HHH: And another thing, dial down the wiggerocity by a factor of at least five for a month or so. I don’t care how you talk or act or whatever when you’re feuding with whoever else, but when you’re feuding with me, I can’t be embarrassed to even appear in the same segment as you.
Cena: Yeah…well…You should be called Triple Gay!
HHH: And can you please learn a few more moves. More than…five, anyway. Like, throw a Tiger Suplex in there once in a while, just to mess with everybody. Not against me or anything, but just…just for fun. Look, I know you held the title for almost a whole year there, and good on you for it, but this is the first time you’ve feuded with me, and there’s some conditions that have to be met so that you don’t drag me into the toilet with you.
Cena: Would you like that, homey? If we went into the toilets together to get off?
HHH: Look, I’m the Game and stuff. I’m basically the main event of this company until I say. So even though you haven’t got a prayer of winning, can you at least act like you do? Even though people hate to see me in the main, they tolerate it. Do you know what I have that you don’t?
Cena: A penis in Stephanie McMahon?
HHH: Besides that, I mean. A secureness in my total control of my masculinity. I can play with kittens and rock out to Sarah McLaughlin, because I know it doesn’t make me any less of a man. I cry now and again, and I watch Dr. Phil and Housewives. And I’m willing to stand here and admit it, because that just makes me a stronger person inside. You’re, what, 28? And you act like you’re 14. Come on, man. Let me get you some Dido or something. She did a song with Eminem! That should ease your transition a bit….
Cena: You know what I have that you don’t?
HHH: What’s that?
Cena: A title belt that SPINS, homey! WHEEEEEEEEE!
Vince McMahon: Quite frankly, I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation, and quite frankly, it gave me an idea. What if, I was to pair the two of you up against Randy Orton, Rey Misterio, and…the World Heavyweight Champion in a match on Saturday Night’s Main Event?
HHH: You mean Kurt Angle?
Vince: Well, I can’t actually SAY Kurt Angle, because Smackdown is taping later, and that would be some mad spoilers to say that he retains.
HHH: Did you just say “Mad Spoilers?”
Cena: That’s my boy right there. Represent, Vizzle to the Mizzle!
HHH: I wonder if Dixie Carter is married.
Cena: I heard she was married. Her real name is now, Dixie Normous.
Vince: Hahahahahaha! That’s why he’s the champ.
After this, Triple H just sits in the corner and sobs for a while.
Chavo Guerrero v. Shelton Benjamin (w/ Mama Benjamin)
In a Money in the Bank Qualifying Match
I hope Chavo wins. Not because I don’t think Shelton could use the briefcase, but because there ain’t no stoppin’ Shelton from defending the Intercontinental Title…NAH! The story of the match is Chavo hitting some tribute based offense, followed by moments of dead air as he wonders what to do next. Eventually, the match has dragged on SO long that Mama falls asleep and falls out of her chair. Randy Orton runs in through the audience to claim his victory, but he spots Chavo and, remember his feud with Les Gourdeos, he spits into the ring, causing Chavo to slip and fall over. However, since Orton wasn’t “technically” in this match, his win is credited to Shelton. MAMA BENJAMIN IS STILL GOING TO WRESTLEMANIA!
Entering the WWE Hall of Fame this year? Todd Pettingill. He’s being inducted by Chris Leary. Awesome.
Vince McMahon is standing backstage, admiring the craftsmanship on his fake office.
Vince McMahon: Rob built TWO walls for me to put couches by and stand between. I’m really proud of that flippy little bastard. That’s at least one more wall than I would have expected.
Shawn Michaels: Hey, Vince…look…I was thinking, I don’t even really want Marty back. You’re either going to team us up in some kind of crappy Rockers reunion that nobody except you and him wants, or else you’re going to have him turn on me and join you, and officially less than nothing will come out of it.
Vince McMahon: Is that a tube top you’re wearing?
Shawn: Can we get past my fashion choices for just a second and focus on the matter at hand?
Vince: Certainly. I mean it’s not like I’m not wearing one of Stephanie’s corsets under this shirt after all.
Shawn: You know what? Have Marty kiss your ass anyway. I’m hoping an overload of disgusting signals will fry my brain and I’ll forget this whole day ever happened.
Iron Chef Wrestling Chris Masters: Hey there hot stuff! Wanna oil me up?
Shawn: It’s me. Shawn Michaels.
Masters: Woah! With that tube top you’re at least a 7! Eight if I’m drunk. Talk about mixed signals!
Vince: Tell me about it!
(ads)Carlito Carribean Cool v. Ric Flair
In a Money in the Bank Qualifying MatchCarlito eats an apple while Flair begs off to start. Flair tries to remind Carlito that he’s his father, but Carlito knows better than that now. So Flair hits him in the balls. Poor Carlito. If you can’t beat a 824 year old man, what kind of upstart young wrestler are you anyway? One with amazing hair. Flair chops Carlito down, but Carlito isn’t giving up. That briefcase will be his dammit! Maybe he can keep some apples in there instead of on the floor. That can’t be completely sanitary.
(ads)Don’t tell me that Flair is going to be in another ladder match. The guy is going to get snapped in half one of these times, and J.R. isn’t here, so he can’t say, “By Gawd! He’s been broken in HALF! Literally!” Damn osteoporosis. Carlito works the lower back, which, I understand was injured somehow at one point. It’s all for naught, though, because Carlito stops to take an apple break, and gets counted out. RIC FLAIR IS GOING TO WRESTLEMANIA! BY GAWD WHAT AN UPSET! Flair is so excited, he falls over. Orton wins! I wonder if he’s going to be in the Money in the Bank.Vince McMahon is standing backstage, checking out his ass. Yes, it’s still there, and it’s coming out…NEXT!(ads)
Vince McMahon: Allow me to introduce penniless hobo Marty Jannetty, whose career is best defined by his complete and stunning inability to overcome wearing fruity tassels and being thrown through windows. Marty, welcome.
Marty Jannetty: Thank you, Mister McMahon. It’s a pleasure to be begging you for change again.
Vince: I’m sure you all remember Marty’s match with Kurt Angle, and how stunningly not horrible it was, and quite frankly, that was just enough that I resigned him to a WWE contract. Unfortunately, he also violated his parole and wound up back in jail, where he lived out the remainder of his WWE Contract getting hit on by Nailz.
Marty: Believe me, it’s nicer than it sounds. He’s got a really warm heart and soft hands.
Vince: Be that as it may, Marty spent all the money we gave him getting his van fixed and buying old Journey tapes. I understand you even hawked your leather jacket for “Raised on Radio.” And that’s all well and good, but quite frankly, even Virgil is better off than you, and all he does is sit by himself at comic book conventions in the same shirt crying.
Marty: Well, I think by drawing on the power of the Lord, I may yet prance again, Mr. McMahon.
Vince: Well, fine. I’m going to pull off my pants now, and we’ll see what happens. Just know that if your lips DO happen to find their way onto my ass…hypothetically speaking…I mean I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. But, just remember, if they do, I have a whole hell of a lot more bling than Jesus.
Vince pulls down his pants, but then Marty remembers what William Regal once told him.
William Regal: Just remember, chappy, kissing Mr. McMahon’s ass won’t keep you off Internet Velocity.
And as much as Marty would love the paycheck, he’d never heard of Internet Velocity, and it scared him. Then a pirate came buy and tried to shiver his timbers. Armed with this knowledge, and sore afraid, Marty begs for another way.
Marty: Please, Mr. McMahon! There has to be another way to earn a paycheck! I cannot covet your ass, but I can do any number of other things! I could dust the Titan Tron! Or team with Al Snow! Or give bubble baths to Pat Patterson! Anything that will keep me off Internet Velocity! I can’t afford a new drug!
Vince: Well, then I hope your cooking is up to par.
Iron Chef Wrestling Chris Masters v. Marty Jannetty
In a Lobster Tail Challenge for a WWE Contract
Shinichiro Ohta: Fukui-san!
Kenji Fukui: Go ahead!
Ohta: This is one of the Iron Chef’s specialties. I know he’s been in a bit of a slump lately, but he seems confident. But the challenger is destitute, and perhaps he will have the heart to pull ahead.
Dr. Yukio Hatori: I doubt it. That guy hasn’t cooked anything but shrimp ramen for, like, the last fifteen years.
Fukui: True that.
Fukui: Go ahead!
Ohta: The challenger is eating everything in his kitchen! He’s like a man possessed. He hasn’t eaten a decent meal in years, and…he’s eating flour by the spoonful! He’s not going to win a contract like this!
He’s not! But then Shawn Michaels runs down. Superkick to the Fortune Teller! Superkick to the Low Level Government Official! Shawn Michaels has taken out the judges! Nobody can tell me whether the flavor of the lobster bisque was too strong now! Shawn turns his attention to Vince, but in a SHOCKING SWERVE~! the lobster was actually Shane McMahon in disguise! Shane prances over and snips Michaels with his claws. Shawn looks to Marty for help, but Marty is about halfway into a can of condensed beef broth, and in no mood to stop. And, in a final act of retribution, Shane forces Shawn to kiss Vince’s ass.
Vince: Now you know what goes on behind the scenes here at WWE. Quite frankly, it’s not pretty. What the hell are you dressed in that costume for, Shane?
Shane: Dad…I can’t keep this secret anymore. I’m a Fishy. Don’t you judge me!
Shane prances off.
Vince: Be that as it may, in the interest of fairness, quite frankly, I think Shawn Michaels here should have a match on Saturday Night’s main event. Against my son. In a street fight. I can only hope you knock some sense into him. And then you’ll be fighting me at WrestleMania. Just remember that I don’t have any knees, so…don’t expect me to be able to wrestle or anything. It’ll be just like fighting Hogan!
At that, even Shawn’s unconscious form begins gagging. Marty offers him some paprika, but then he dumps the whole bottle into his mouth anyway.
Fukui: Join us next week when we find out who will reign supreme!
Next Week: Ric Flair begins training with RVD on how to do moonsaults into the crowd. Edge continues his search for The World’s Greatest Catchphrase that will propel him not only over loveable loser Mick Foley, but also back into the main event! And Triple H tries to teach John Cena the finer points of not making Hunter look bad.
All that and more…NEXT WEEK!