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The 7 - Guest Columns - The Obtuse Recap: The RAW That Ate Your Brain [part one]
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Wolfram J. Paulovich
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#1 Posted on 19.8.03 1420.46
Reposted on: 19.8.10 1423.25

THE OBTUSE RECAP
The RAW That Ate Your Brain
August 19, 2003

by Jeb Tennyson Lund
OnlineOnslaught.com/CitizenScholar.net

Since The Rick's sorry butt has been forced to do these recaps for OnlineOnslaught the past seven years or so, I figured I'd give him a break and do the Raw recap this week. And what a Raw I got to cover! This amazing festering boil of a show was evacuated by the great writing team's bowels all over the city of Grand Rapids, Michigan on August 18, 2003.

I know I'm no CRZ, but this ought to be mildly amusing if for nothing more than the exotic Bavarian one-act play featuring Linda McMahon and Eric Bischoff.


We open with all the Raw mess and go straight to Chris Jericho's Hi-Light Reel. Or High-Lite Reel. Or Hi-Lite Rele. Whatever.

Jericho spends some time talking about his amazing-osity, his King of Bling-Bling-ness, etc., then transitions into a serious note about how he was once champion and burns with the power of a thousand suns with a desire to reclaim the belt. He invites Shawn Michaels to come to the ring — Michaels being the last person to lose in a way that even remotely made Jericho look good. Jericho says that he was close to winning in the last Elimination Chamber match and asks Michaels what it took to win it. Before Michaels can answer, Jericho brings out his other guests, Evolution. Jericho then goes somewhere.

Triple H screws up a lot and calls it the Evolution Chamber — which I would normally think was a cute way of getting heat, but I doubt Triple H is that clever. Triple H says that the last Elimination Chamber match sent him to the hospital; but, with Evolution's help, Michaels will pull a knife, and he'll pull a gun. Michaels will send one of Evolution to the hospital, and Triple H will send someone else to the morgue. That's the Greenwich way. A scrap breaks out, and it's a three-on-one on Michaels. Bleach-blond Kevin Nash makes the save, but soon finds himself pretty screwed.

Then Goldberg comes in to make another save and goes to spear Triple H. Triple H pulls Nash into harm's way, and Goldberg winds up spearing some vague part of Nash's side in a earth-shakingly adequate spot that JR and the King somehow interpret as Nash's total destruction. Which sets up the fact that Jericho will be battling someone not at 100%. And if you can't make Jericho look worse before a match, you're not a WWE employee, Schecky.


BACKSTAGE:
Test meets Stacy to tell her that he's going to beat Steiner and that things will be different for the two of them from now on. "I'm gonna treat you like the little slut that you are." Such hatred, such a paternalistic sense of bodily entitlement! Stacy pouts in a contained rage (read: acting incompetence), like a child who didn't get a red Otter Pop or something. I know girls everywhere are thinking the same thing: "When a man says that he's going to own me and treat me like a slut, the first thing I'm going to do is stand still and pout!"

Viva women's lib!

I guess the whole point is that Test is a terrible man. But when I see him, I see that old Far Side cartoon. You know, the one where Alexander the Great's wife says: "For one thing, I want you to be more assertive. I'm tired of everyone calling you 'Alexander the Pretty Good.' " Although, in Test's case, it's more like Test is channeling Ivan the Terrible and somehow turning him into "Ivan the Meany-Poo."


Commercials:
Stacker 2 has a new energy drink called "YJStinger." In a burst of sense, they have Triple H and not Y2J shilling it. Sure, Y2J isn't an over-striated freak cobbled together from the effects of injuries and steroids, but his name is closer to "YJ" than "HHH." If they called it the "Huuuuhhhh Stinger," I could totally see it.

Can you tell that I like Chris Jericho? Welcome to my biased romp. It gets better, I swear.

TNA ad. Wow, that stuff looks really good. I'm rethinking my buying strategy. I'm still not going to order it, but now I'm going to feel bad about not ordering it.


Woman Trish Stratus v. (Women's Champion) Molly "A Woman" Holly for the Women's Championship of Women
Here comes Trish. Sparkly. Her wardrobe was stolen from a John Woo movie. So many cape-like buttonless jackets. We cut to a backstage interview. Trish asks, "What is Gail Kim's problem?" Trish answers: it's Trish. Hey! No fair. That's Trish's problem, too. Tonight, Trish going to take back the belt, making herself more of a problem for that belt-loving (woman) Gail "I Am a Female" Kim. It's a moving promo. It's the sort of thing you'd be delighted to hear after three days at the International Realtors and Developers Conference. And that's not because of the quality of words or the passion of the delivery, because neither were present. It's because IRDC conferences don't feature well-scrubbed blonde women athletes.

Now the match. I don't write out transition moves that have no effect: I'm just going for the gist. Where art thou, CRZ? And San Jose, CA is not a reasonable answer!

Molly takes control with an armbar for a while. Trish breaks free, hits the ropes, then climbs on Molly with a Thesz press. Pretty sloppy, but standard for Trish. Molly fights out, starts for an armbar; Trish resists; Molly whips her around into a clothesline. Molly goes for a sideslam. Then she picks Trish up and inverts her. It really does look like she's going for a Tombstone Piledriver, but Trish is flailing (I think undeliberately) too much for Molly to get her into position. Molly instead brings Trish down into a shoulderbreaker. Lawler says, "I really thought she was gonna go for a Tombstone there, JR," which makes me suspect that that was the original plan but that Molly improvised after Trish became too unwieldy. Molly's pin attempt gets two. Molly goes up top, but Trish revives. Molly gets crotched on the ropes.

Trish does her handspring-ankle-canrana in the turnbuckle, flipping Molly into the ring. Trish takes over, chops. More chops. God, her chops suck — but I think that's more the squeamishness of the other women wrestlers, not Trish's inability. Ah, hell, it could go either way. Maybe the women are squeamish because Trish sucks at them. Anyway, spinebuster on Molly. Gail Kim runs in, stands on the apron and leans over the ropes. Trish goes to the turnbuckle and jumps outside to the apron to deal with Gail. She knocks Gail down, then climbs the other turnbuckle. Crossbody from the top rope misses. Molly goes for the pin, but Gail pulls Molly off Trish, beats her, drags her to the outside. Bell rings and DQ. Molly and Gail do the catfight thing outside. The refs separate them after a while.

Decent match with an asinine ending. I don't recall if they mentioned during a previous Raw if it was a three-, four- or five-way match for the Women's Title. And I don't think I saw any mention of the Women's Title match at SummerSlam during the show. Basically, this match meant nothing because there was no hype for it. It looked pretty good for a while, but I want to know that the run-in is being put to good use. Basically, we all have to hope it will be. Here's to a decent match at the pay-per-view. If there is one at all.


BACKSTAGE:
We're in the Evolution Lounge, where hep cats like Triple H, Triple Naitch and Randy Suck-Mutant sit around giving each other makeovers, discussing the benefits of Nehru-collared jackets over pea-green leisure suits while listening to slowed-down versions of James Taylor songs and trying to grok their inner meaning by literally smoking tea — having completely misunderstood that the word "tea" was an old-school pot reference.

High off the Lipton fumes, Flair and Triple H talk about Sunday's Evacuation Chamber match being a cakewalk — "cakewalk" being a 19th Century term that they do understand, as it was a competition at church functions wherein people would walk in circles, to music, and whomever was closest to the cake when the music stopped would get to take the cake home and burn it as a sacrifice to the god Baal. Evolution likes cake.

Stone Cold Steve Austin comes in to ask if they are proud of themselves. They obviously are, since if they had any shame they would long ago have gnawed their own faces off for saying anything remotely positive about Randy Orton. They say that they are proud, and point to their own non-gnawed-off faces as proof. Stone Cold says he has a match idea for the main event. It will be Randy Orton v. Goldberg. Wow, two people who've received monster pushes... both in a main event! And only one has ever been popular! Which one is it? Who knows? Stone Cold says that he's going to be the "Special Enforcer" keeping away interference during the match. Sucking can't count as interference, since Randy's in the match!


Commercial.


Your special "Whack of the Night" from the Lorillard Tobacco Company (man, I've been smoking for nine years and I still don't have a goddamned clue what this company is) is Shane McMahon getting tombstoned on the stairs by Kane.

Shane comes on out. Here comes the promo. There will not be a match between Eric Bischoff and him at SummerSlam. That's because Shane is going to beat him beyond all recognition 2-NITE! He also has a special present for Kane... 2-NITE! (His emphasis is such that I think the words aren't properly spelled.) It's a can full of gas and a handful of matches... and he and Dre are standing next to a burned-down house! No, wait, it's just a gas can. He leaves.

Lance Storm is backstage, saying that he's too boring. Oh, if only Orton could evaluate himself so honestly. Goldust says that Storm should be unpredictable in order to be less boring. Storm says that one time he watched a video and returned it without rewinding. Goldust says that that's not enough; Storm should go into the women's locker room, say some incredibly dirty thing to a possibly naked diva, then physically assault her by kissing her with deliberate force. Wow! I guess there are many unpredictable and non-boring people in U.S. prisons!

Test comes out for his match. You wonder why he tries. This match is for the services of Stacy Kiebler. Test battles the commercial.


Commercial.


Test v. Scott Steiner in a Winner Gets the Services of Stacy Kiebler in a "Wholesome and Not at All Degradingly Sexual Way" Match
Scott Steiner
comes to the ring to meet Test. Punchy-punch kicky-kick. Steiner takes over and oddly side-suplexes Test. It looked good, but I don't know how to describe it because I suck. He whips Test to the corner. Chop and beatdown punch... repeat. Pulls him out to the ring. Into the ropes, elbow. Kicky-kick on mat. Whip to the corner. More chop and beatdown punch. Pulls him out, then belly-to-belly suplex. More punchy-punch on ground. Steiner is in total control. Test comes up loopy and staggering. Into the corner for more beatdown punches. Test reverses an Irish whip but then eats a kind of short choppy clothesline. Steiner does pushups.

JR:
Steiner trying to get inside the head of Test. Should be a lot of room to maneuver up there.

Good one for JR. Test into corner. Steiner runs, but eats an elbow to the face. Steiner turns his back on the corner and Test, holds his head, then turns around. Test immediately goes for the big boot, but Steiner ducks. Test's leg goes sailing over. He does a stutter step, then collapses, selling a "blown-out knee."

Referee Jack Doan keeps saying to Test, "Talk to me, you okay?" Doan calls for the trainer. Test whispers to Doan. The bell still hasn't rung, and the trainers are out, manipulating Test's leg, removing the brace on the knee. Big cheers from audience. (What for? Maybe they think he's really hurt.) Weird cheer. "You gotta relax for me. I can't evaluate you," the trainer says. Test feigns tears. Again. Just like when Jericho whacked Stacy in the head with a chair. And it's just as moving.

Finally, everyone picks him up and starts to help him out of the ring. He's limping, and he doesn't even do that well. Suddenly, he kicks Steiner in the face in a wussy little hippity-hop kick. (It looks better on the replay.) He pins Steiner!

Test crows and struts up the ramp, with Stacy in tow. She keeps looking back at Scott, trying to get away, then getting tugged back. O, that their love dare be separated by mortal man!

[Exeunt.]


Commercial.


Still to come: Nash v. Jericho in the hair versus hair. And RVD v. Christian for the IC title. But what in between? What, I ask? Whaaaaaat?

La Resistance comes out avec flag. (It has just been announced that they will have a match at SummerSlam v. Bubba and D-Von Dudley.) We take you back to the savage flag-beating that occurred on last week's Raw, followed by Louis Jadot bingeing, pouring, swigging, tasting, then an elegant spit and a comment about its presence and the terroir.

One of the frogs starts talking. I swear, all French people look alike to me. They want to have a moment of silence for the death of the Dudleys last week. But they will face them on Sunday. French people are such cowards that they will only wrestle corpses. Then they say that they will rebury the Dudleys at SummerSlam. So, first they will rob graves to dig up corpses, pin the corpses, then reinter the corpses in the earth. What a lot of effort. If all French work is like this, no wonder they have unemployment in excess of 12%.

They then say that they will show the whole world that they are "the best ta-team champion ever." Such accents! They go to ringside to mock someone supposedly wearing an Air Force uniform. Wow. That looks unauthentic for an Air Force ROTC uniform. Party on, WWE. Morons. La Resistance ask The Airman to shake hands. Then Sylvan Dupree or René Grenier does the "Oooooh, too slow" thing, pulling the hand away.

After what can only be described as "as long as the gestation period of two elephants, a human baby and a volcano," the Dudleys finally appear. And La Resistance flee up the ramp. Quelle surprise! D-Von goes to check on The Airman. I'm not sure why. Maybe mockery kills U.S. servicemen. A big "USA" chant rings out. Oh, Boy! The Airman is coming in the ring, at the invitation of the Dudleys. HUGE USA CHANT. The Dudleys have the flag in the ring with The Airman. They shake his hand and thank him; he salutes; then he waves the flag.

OH, NO! THEN HE TURNS ON THE DUDLEYS! HE WHACKS THEM WITH THE FLAG! WHO IS HE? I CAN'T TELL! WITH HIS SHIRT OFF, HE LOOKS IDENTICAL TO ALL OTHER FRENCHMAN!


BACKSTAGE:
Y2J luxuriantly brushes his hair.

LUGZ Boot of the Week: Nash and Jericho scrap after the High-Lite Reel last week.


Commercial.


Linda McMahon is live, via satellite, looking for fake nude images of Steph online and then going to the WWE.com Poll "Do WWE Polls Mean Less to You Than A Full Bowel Movement" and finding that there is no "yes" answer.

Jericho's already in the ring. He's jukin' and jivin' on his own.

Nash's music is queued, and he completes his thirty-five minute entrance process.


[end of part one, since I can't paste anymore into this field.]

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Guru Zim
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#2 Posted on 20.8.03 1151.38
Reposted on: 20.8.10 1152.16
Only LLakor and Jeb have exceeded the post limitation of the table.
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#3 Posted on 20.8.03 1159.36
Reposted on: 20.8.10 1200.05
Ah yes, but I break the table waaaaaaaay more than Jeb breaks the table.

(SIGH. Yes, I DO need help.)

Which reminds me that I really need to break loose and write something that will find pieman at lunch with a small novel sized print-out to read.
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#4 Posted on 21.8.03 0624.46
Reposted on: 21.8.10 0626.26
I waiting over here at Subway.
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