In its third year, World Wrestling Entertainment's version of Extreme Championship Wrestling continues to rule the Sci Fi airwaves with extremely, championship-like wrestling. Although we are far removed from the days of suave, good-looking male fans calling women crack whores, today's ECW is not too shabby in a time where shabbiness rules the shabby world in which we live. While I understand that hardcore followers of Paul Heyman's Extreme Championship Wrestling are disappointed with Vince McMahon's incarnation, they should be glad that the three letters they knew and loved proceed to be synonymous with the entertainment sport. For now, let us put away our Sabus and embrace our Boogeymen. We exist in a different time, in a different place than before. We should not go back.
Perhaps I was hesitant about the resurrection of ECW at first, but I am content with the current product now. Aren't you happy that the current roster of ECW does not have to wrestling in bingo halls and smelly ballrooms anymore? Aren't you happy that Joel Gertner is not present to spout off ten thousand too many sexual innuendos? According to his fashionable neck brace slash cushion, he's been recovering from some type of sexy car and or table and or chair accident for over ten years. Personally, I think he should take some time away from the ring to rest. I'm sure he longs to wear turtlenecks without stretching out the neck material.
After the debut episode of ECW on the Sci Fi Network, every professional wrestling analyst and their second cousin's cousin wanted to blast the brand for its inability to duplicate the in-your-face nature of the old ECW. At the time, Kelly Kelly was struggling to take off her bra. Little do the other professional wrestling analysts know that Kelly Kelly's bras are the hardest to take off, especially after a rousing family band performance. When I'm playing "Can't Fight This Feeling" on the ukulele, I go all out, no matter how tired my hands get afterwards. I'm a performer first, a successful, professional wrestling analyst second, a talented candlestick maker third, and a Kelly Kelly bra remover fourth. I have my priorities straight to an extreme degree. Do you, other analysts?
As we recall the summer of the year 2006, reminisce about a period in which life was much simpler. In our day, we didn't have two elimination chamber matches in a single night. We had to work overtime and find solace in one elimination chamber match. Furthermore, we didn't have cars. When we wanted to travel across the city, we had to attach a piece of cardboard to two wooden dowels holding four wheels of cheeses. After spinning those wheels for hours, what was our reward? Concrete-charred cheese. We ate those wheels of cheese as if they were the last wheels of cheese on Earth. With that said, I hope you enjoy this look back at a past today's children will never enjoy.
Welcome to a new breed unleashed. Welcome to Entertainment Championship Wrestling. This... is entertainment.
(In retrospect, I was a fan of the New Breed--an ECW stable featuring Elijah Burke (released), Marcus Cor Von (released), Matt Striker (announced), Kevin Thorn (devampified), and Ariel (boobed). When you get a boxer, a Monty Brown, a former Social Studies teacher, a male vampire named Kevin, and a female vampire together, you have yourself a mighty fine stable. This stable is a very, very, very fine stable... with two cats in this stable. They are like the Four Horsemen, if Ric Flair could box, if the pharmacist-looking Arn Anderson could pounce on his opponents over the pharmaceuticals counter, if Ole Anderson could teach, if Tully Blanchard could hate garlic, and if JJ Dillion had large breasts. We are so close, yet so far.)
June 13, 2006 from Stargate SG-Fun
Match Results: New Jack Stripped, Sandman d. Spacey McAlienface, Kurt Angle d. Guy with ECW Shirt, Stephanie McMahon won ECW Cookie Sheet Battle Royal
The ECW set was made up of rectangular pieces of wood to suggest a door frame. Above that was Vince McMahon's ass wrapped in barbed wire.
(If I wrapped a line of barbed wire in barbed wire, how extreme would my weapon be? In an ECW Extreme Rules Match, I think the most ideal weapon is an Aurora Rose Levesque or Murphy Claire Levesque wrapped in barbed wire. If had either one of those at my disposal, I would be untouchable. Nobody would want to get hit with my weapon. I bet I would win every match. Don't worry, though; Hunter and Stephanie are okay with my weapon. I feed my weapons Flintstones Chewables on a semi-regular basis. After all, they're growing children, and part-time wrestling weaponry.)
Paul Heyman came out with a black bag, a red bag, and a blue bag. Each bag had a different logo, with black being ECW, red being RAW, and blue being Smackdown. He said the following on the live mic: "If I were to told you the magical orb of Glendor 9 were in one of these bags, which one would you think it was in?" This brought out Rob Van Dam, who spun his newly won WWE Title. The spinning motion transported Paul, Rob, and the ECW audience into an alternative dimension in which dinosaurs ruled the world. Rob Van Dam walked into the ring and was about to choose from one of the bags when a Tyrannosaurus Rex appeared in a throwback jersey and sneaker pumps.
The crowd cheered loudly when T-Rex took all three bags and violently emptied the contents onto the canvas. The red bag contained a collection of Rollerball DVDs; the blue bag contained Finlay's leprechaun, and the black bag contained the orb which was the centerpiece of the new ECW World Title. T-Rex broke the orb, which infuriated Rob so they started to battle in the ring. T-Rex tried to Rex-U him, but Rob Van Dam escaped. In a fantastic moment, Rob threw the title in the dinosaur's face and hit a mistimed Van Daminator. Paul encouraged the audience to chant “E-C-W,” but they were quickly taken away and eaten by carnivorous pterodactyls. This was a great segment that reminded me a lot like the old ECW, but instead of people, there were dinosaurs.
(Even when Rob Van Dam tries to kick a Tyrannosaurus Rex in the face, he's not always accurate. Due to their tiny arms, I don't think the Tyrannosaurus Rex is a good worker either, nor is he a good seller. All he can do is look through windows with a single eye. Nathan Jones could do that, so why should WWE sign a Tyrannosaurus Rex to a lengthy contract? Vladimir Kozlov is enough for me. I'm good, World Wrestling Entertainment. We're good. We're all good. On the other hand, please re-sign the Rhyno (the rhinocerous) to a lucrative contract. He enjoys the company of vases now.)
New Jack arrived on the scene and teased he was going to strip in front of the entire audience. He said he was an exhibitionist the likes we have never seen. They were like "O RLY?" and he was like "YA, RLY." He proceeded to take off his clothes, but sliced a guy in the eye instead. If WWE or The Sci-Fi network actually believes that this act will get New Jack over, they are absolutely correct. He is lovely.
(When I was younger, I didn't think of New Jack as a wrestler because he didn't actually wrestle. How does bringing a shopping cart full of weapons to the ring and hitting dudes in the face with each weapon equal wrestling? If I am wrong, my neighbourhood hobo is a talented professional wrestler. His name is New Bertram. I don't know how he got the rights to use the music out on the streets, but New Bertram's theme is "Natural Born Killaz" by Ice Cube & Dr. Dre as well. I cannot dispute this fact because a cube of ice and a certified rapping doctor provide the rapping for this song. They are scholars.)
Kurt Angle came out with a mouthpiece that read ECW, an earpiece that read "Hardcore", a nose plug that read "Extreme", and an eye patch that read "Welcome to the new ECW on the Sci Fi Network. My name is Kurt Angle and I am an Olympic Gold Medalist. Let me tell you about my life story..." His eye patch had a lot of writing on it, most of which I could not read, but I'm sure it was quite informative. It was written in calligraphy, too.
(One day, Kurt Angle will wear an eye patch to the ring. He will have little to no depth perception, but he will look like a bald, American pirate. I am tired of these British pirates and their willingness to act in such an effeminate manner. I want to see some macho, American pirates in this mother. If WWE gives me Paul Burchill again, so help me I will start a riot. I will use my hook hand to put Paul Burchill in the Ankle Lock, while my American parrot sings patriotic songs like Toby Keith.)
Then, a guy in an ECW t-shirt ran into the ring. I don't recall his name, but he stood out to everyone in the building with his unique look of a bald head, a black shirt, and jeans. Kurt Angle made quick work of him and made him tap out to a rear naked choke. Joey Styles called it "The Babymaker".
(If you plan to introduce wrestling to an individual who does not follow it, do not let them see the rear naked choke. At its best, professional wrestling can be taken seriously, but when I think about the rear naked choke, they have no excuse. I simply apologize to the viewer for subjecting him or her to the unpleasant sight and leave the room, which I don't even do when Shane McMahon dances on the ramp. If Shane involves himself in a personal feud with Randy Orton, he's got to dance, dude. That dance is his War Dance. He calls it "The Shane-O-Shuffle." When he dances, I pay everyone in the room to close their eyes.)
Outside the arena, The Count from Sesame Street appeared in front of the electronic marquee and showed his fangs to the audience. He was holding a bag of rice cakes in his hand. He looked briefly into the camera, ate a rice cake, then said "One, two, three calories! Ha ha ha!"
The crowd chanted "No trans fat! No trans fat!" Tazz said, "Only in ECW." I agree.
(If I had the opportunity to write storylines for 2006 ECW, I would bring The Count into the company and feud him with Kevin Thorn to determine who is the most “vampire-y of vampires.” The Count would gather his cronies from Sesame Street for a sneaky beat down on Thorn. His muscle, the Cookie Monster, would execute "The Cookie Crumbler" (two-handled choke bomb) before The Count posed before the fans, counting his own pin. At the next December to Dismember in the year 2060, The Count would win... by count out. This is my Rock versus Austin. Don't you forget it.)
Sandman did not enter to "Enter Sandman" by Metallica, which infuriated ECW fans everywhere because without that song, there is no hope for the return of his American flag pants. Instead, he came out to "Don't Cha" by the Pussycat Dolls. Surprisingly, some of the crowd got into the song when Sandman posed the question "Don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me?" With his Singapore cane, he wrote an imaginary question mark in the air for emphasis. They cheered, of course. This was a very ECW/Sandmanesque moment.
(The Pussycat Dolls remind me of the bland version of Maria, what with their ability to look weird naked. I haven't seen any of The Pussycat Dolls naked, nor have I seen Maria's photo shoot in Playboy Magazine, but I get the feeling they look weird when naked. I hope they wear clothes in the shower. Otherwise, they would probably wouldn't look that great. CM Punk knows what I'm talking about, I think.)
The lights dimmed and John Cena's Ghetto Spaceship appeared out of thin air. The sold out crowd was expecting the Doctor of Thuganomics to show his face, but instead it was a wrestler with an alien mask, dressed in a kilt. He gave the finger to the audience, then did a crotch chop with his tentacles. He got great heat with those gestures until Sandman got to him. He caned him upside the head, but then tried to chain-wrestle. The crowd hated this part so they quickly went to the finish, which was Sandman rolling up the alien for the three count with his hand on the bottom rope and his feet on the middle ropes for added leverage. Total disaster if you're a WWE fan, or a complete success if you like hardcore.
(What happened to John Cena's Ghetto Spaceship that debuted at the Royal Rumble a few years ago? That ghetto spaceship could have taken us to Mars, where John and his alien buddies would wrestle shirtless on the ground for some reason. You are attending a barbeque, John. If you want to eat, you must put on a shirt. If he was at my barbeque, I would ask him to leave. I do not tolerate shirtless barbeque eaters, let alone shirtless barbeque eaters who wrestle with other shirtless barbeque eaters. Shirts are inexpensive.)
The participants were Tommy Dreamer, Al Snow, Roadkill, Danny Doring, Balls Mahoney, Sabu, Big Show, Tony Mamaluke, Little Guido, Big Guido, Sign Guy Guido, and Brother Guido. There were actually twelve men in this one, but it was counted as ten because some ECW wrestlers could be combined to make one decent WWE superstar. Only Sabu and the Big Show got their own entrances because they won the 50/50 draw at the door. Big Show was the star of the match because he was larger than everyone else, while Sabu broke 47 bones in his body by just standing there, existing.
(Like Rob Van Dam, Sabu makes his mistakes, but I forgive him for he is many adjectives that end with the suffix -cidal. He's a multi-tasker in genie pants. Although, I sometimes wonder if he botches every day activities. When he tries to lick ice cream from a delicious ice cream cone, does he miss? Does the ice cream go into his eye or something? If so, he's pretty rad; I would dig him more than I do now.)
In a complete shock, the lights darkened again. When they returned, Stephanie McMahon appeared in the audience. She was wearing her ECW beret, swinging two long baguettes in her hands. The fans went bananas, grapefruits, and watermelons in reaction to her return. The fans screamed "Welcome back, accurate representation of citizens of the French persuasion," while Stephanie rode a bike to the ring with a mouthful of snails.
(French, leather berets do no belong in any version of Extreme Championship Wrestling, Stephanie. In ECW, you wear baseball caps that hide your skullet, or you wear nothing. Please note this detail upon your next visit to the Land of Extreme for I am unwilling to remind you.)
Pregnant Steph entered the ring and was ambushed, but eventually threw everyone out. She gave them money to buy her pickles and chocolate ice cream because she had a craving. Big Show got a hold of Steph and tried to chokeslam her, but she clocked him in the head with a baguette too, which made him bleed butter. She dipped the bread in the butter and ate it to celebrate, which was the most extreme moment of the night. Big Show was eliminated via Stephanie blowing air in his direction, which took him up and over the top rope. The crowd chanted "Thank you, Steph!" as the ECW locker room came out and hoisted her on their shoulders.
(In 2009, the leaner Big Show bleeds margarine. He’s eating healthier. He wants to see his child and future children grow up, for goodness sake. He will name one future child Medium Show, while the other one will be called Side Attraction. They will live in a movie theatre or some other equivalent venue.)
Final Thoughts: If you didn't like this episode, you are dead to me, you hear?
Q: Did you know that, if you were to take the initials of ECW and use it in a clever but insulting manner, you could call it Extremely Crappy Wrestling?
A: What? Wait a minute... holy crap. You can. I hope Jerry Lawler knows about this.
(You see how I spelled the word “week” in 2006, Matt Striker? Suckers must accomplish many tasks, but first of all, they better recognize.)
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