They did WHAT!? Photo Credit: WWE.com |
When dwelling in the subterraneous levels of WWE programming, one absolutely has to let Occam's Razor be their machete. O.R. isn't a barbershop, after all.
It's entirely more than likely somebody with the pen or stylus saw the combination of the words Main Event and England and wrote the whole thing off quicker than you reading this sentence.
If so, let me send that person a quick missive: more inattention, please.
Ever since the hissy fit I threw earlier in the autumn, Main Event has been taking slow steps towards an idealized version of the program. Even if this show was technically throwaway³, it provided much needed perfectly cromulent wrestling as well as airtime to the underbelly of the tag division and gave their female grapplers the spotlight right off the top of the show with the program's first defense of the Lisa Frank Memorial Belt. AJ lost the battle but won the war, as Tamina kicked Nattie but good in the face for daring to put her charge in the Sharpshooter and then pull her back to the center of the ring. It was the aftermath of her crying in Tyson Kidd's arms that put me off center a bit.
Natalya did everything she needed to do but bring backup; in her first one-on-one shot at it in three years she pinballed AJ around, outwrestled her in the clinches, and kept an eye on Tamina the lone time the match went momentarily to the floor. So why was she saying she blew her shot and she wouldn't get another one? She was Butler to Ms. Lee's Duke, and given the fact that they've Scorched Earth everybody that would be a pop-generating contender (assuming they're not going to call up one of the awesome NXT ladies to end the Black Widow's reign of pint-sized adorable terror) there isn't a single person that comes to mind that'd get another shot at the belt on a serious level. Well, maybe a set of twins, but they're on the show just the same as Natalya is and you figure that'd be built up over time to blow off on the series finale if that's a way they were going to go rather than A.J. beating them already. Did I mention they kinda napalmed the division and it's a Bizarro World Full Sail?
The night got worse for the Dungeon graduates as Tyson Kidd came out against former partner and fellow hybrid wrestler Justin Gabriel and lost to a counter sunset flip when he'd gone for a top rope rana having countered Five To Ten. It was fun seeing Kidd's chain wrestling shut down the air squadron attack of the former Angel, best exemplified by that walk-through-the-ropes-counter-hammerlock that's always amusing and a signature grace note from the former Tag Champeen. Oddly, on the broadcast they showed him being frustrated at the loss, but on the website he is seen raising Justin's hand in a display of good sportsmanship. Either way, it capped off an absolute roostertease of an evening for Team Dungeon.
Now, I hope you're sitting down. If not, I'll give you some time so that you can.
Good. Hope you went to the lobby and got yourself a snack. Because the Union Jacks -- better known on their States label as 3MB -- won their match. ...why would I excrement you at a moment like this? It was hard to believe it was happening while Drew McIntyre was hitting the Future Shock, it was even harder to believe when Heath Slater was nailing his outside-in tornillo, and the fact there was a pop after the zebra's hand came down for the third time was just the avocado on a sundae so surreal Dali couldn't paint it up. Maybe I cringed so hard seeing R-Truth come out with the Prime Time Players doing the dance and overworried myself into a potential Team Sambo unit at Survivor Series it gave me the vapors, though this was an oddly specific fever dream if so: D-Mac looked as good as he ever had and even busted out a nice Owen Hart-style dropkick, the bad guys and perennial losers back in the U S of A did a double slingshot suplex, somebody might've even screamed out "Slater's gonna slate!". Life prepares a man for a lot of things, but not 3MB as victorious babyfaces.
The Razor states this wasn't canon somehow, that as soon as 166 hours from now the whole thing will have dissolved and nobody besides a nut like myself will remember Kidd's bipolarity, Nattie's cognitive dissonance, or the overlords of the United Kingdom known as the Union Jacks.
So let's draw the curtain on this week's Main Event. More to the point, let's stick a pin in it just in case.
We want a clear flashpoint if this Earth-2 turns into the way WWE's lower to midcard runs come spring 2014
It's entirely more than likely somebody with the pen or stylus saw the combination of the words Main Event and England and wrote the whole thing off quicker than you reading this sentence.
If so, let me send that person a quick missive: more inattention, please.
Ever since the hissy fit I threw earlier in the autumn, Main Event has been taking slow steps towards an idealized version of the program. Even if this show was technically throwaway³, it provided much needed perfectly cromulent wrestling as well as airtime to the underbelly of the tag division and gave their female grapplers the spotlight right off the top of the show with the program's first defense of the Lisa Frank Memorial Belt. AJ lost the battle but won the war, as Tamina kicked Nattie but good in the face for daring to put her charge in the Sharpshooter and then pull her back to the center of the ring. It was the aftermath of her crying in Tyson Kidd's arms that put me off center a bit.
Natalya did everything she needed to do but bring backup; in her first one-on-one shot at it in three years she pinballed AJ around, outwrestled her in the clinches, and kept an eye on Tamina the lone time the match went momentarily to the floor. So why was she saying she blew her shot and she wouldn't get another one? She was Butler to Ms. Lee's Duke, and given the fact that they've Scorched Earth everybody that would be a pop-generating contender (assuming they're not going to call up one of the awesome NXT ladies to end the Black Widow's reign of pint-sized adorable terror) there isn't a single person that comes to mind that'd get another shot at the belt on a serious level. Well, maybe a set of twins, but they're on the show just the same as Natalya is and you figure that'd be built up over time to blow off on the series finale if that's a way they were going to go rather than A.J. beating them already. Did I mention they kinda napalmed the division and it's a Bizarro World Full Sail?
The night got worse for the Dungeon graduates as Tyson Kidd came out against former partner and fellow hybrid wrestler Justin Gabriel and lost to a counter sunset flip when he'd gone for a top rope rana having countered Five To Ten. It was fun seeing Kidd's chain wrestling shut down the air squadron attack of the former Angel, best exemplified by that walk-through-the-ropes-counter-hammerlock that's always amusing and a signature grace note from the former Tag Champeen. Oddly, on the broadcast they showed him being frustrated at the loss, but on the website he is seen raising Justin's hand in a display of good sportsmanship. Either way, it capped off an absolute roostertease of an evening for Team Dungeon.
Now, I hope you're sitting down. If not, I'll give you some time so that you can.
Good. Hope you went to the lobby and got yourself a snack. Because the Union Jacks -- better known on their States label as 3MB -- won their match. ...why would I excrement you at a moment like this? It was hard to believe it was happening while Drew McIntyre was hitting the Future Shock, it was even harder to believe when Heath Slater was nailing his outside-in tornillo, and the fact there was a pop after the zebra's hand came down for the third time was just the avocado on a sundae so surreal Dali couldn't paint it up. Maybe I cringed so hard seeing R-Truth come out with the Prime Time Players doing the dance and overworried myself into a potential Team Sambo unit at Survivor Series it gave me the vapors, though this was an oddly specific fever dream if so: D-Mac looked as good as he ever had and even busted out a nice Owen Hart-style dropkick, the bad guys and perennial losers back in the U S of A did a double slingshot suplex, somebody might've even screamed out "Slater's gonna slate!". Life prepares a man for a lot of things, but not 3MB as victorious babyfaces.
The Razor states this wasn't canon somehow, that as soon as 166 hours from now the whole thing will have dissolved and nobody besides a nut like myself will remember Kidd's bipolarity, Nattie's cognitive dissonance, or the overlords of the United Kingdom known as the Union Jacks.
So let's draw the curtain on this week's Main Event. More to the point, let's stick a pin in it just in case.
We want a clear flashpoint if this Earth-2 turns into the way WWE's lower to midcard runs come spring 2014