WWE RAW Review 03/03/2014

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LOOOOK IN MA EYEEEEEEEEEEEEZ, WHAT DO YOU SEE?

Paul Heyman. I see Paul Heyman. That’s Paul Heyman so it is.

RAW opened with a pipebomb promo, in Chicago, and the guy who delivered the words came oot tae CM Punks music. Surely they widnae dae that tae us? Surely they widnae dae that tae a crowd who had openly spoken of their desire tae hi-jack the show and disrupt it as much as possible until CM Punk appears. Surely fuckin no, thats just too cruel int it? or it wid be in a universe where I gied a fuck about CM Punk. Naw really, I dont. He’s been away for aboot a year now. and yees need tae just get over it. I don’t sit in ma spare room every night perfecting my lifesized clay mould of him ataw, and I most certainly dont huv his promos playin in the background whilst I stare intently at C(lay) M(ould) Punk  and imagine he’s cuttin them on me. Naw. I dont care mate. You shouldnt either. WHY DID HE LEAVE ME THOUGH?

Heyman comes out tae a chorus of boos, cause this crowd clearly dont understand that Paul Heyman is their da. Button yer fuckin Punk chants and open yer ears. Heyman settles down in the middle of the ring wae the legs crossed, leaving us in nae doubt that he’s either trying hard tae imitate the Pipebomb promo, or he’s showin aff aw the extra flexibility he has since he started power pilates wae Brock.
He’s telling us a wee story about a Paul Heyman guy who they never really wanted. They didnae want him back then, and they dont want him now. His perseverance, and a magnificent balding man named Paul Heyman were his only allies. He’s Chicago born, Chicago raised, and still currently lives there today and his name is…..

BOOM BOOM! COLT CABANA!

Wait…whit?

BOOM BOOM! COLT CABANA!

Ye pullin ma pisser? It cannae be…

IT’S COLT CA-BAN-UH!

Oot he comes, whoopin and hollerin and high fiving all the childrens! Its the people’s favourite. Its the man. The myth. The legend. The podcaster. The t-shirt vendor. The eater of worlds (naw wait, that might be somecunt else) ITS COLT CABANA!

Nah I’m at it, Heyman just kept on chattin about Punk. Let’s the crowd know that Punk isnae in the arena. That starts another Punk chant up, but Heyman rattles through it. Heyman asks why naecunt talks about Punk anymore? Heyman has a theory on whos tae blame for the whole thing, and its YOU. That’s right. He wis talkin tae the Chicago crowd on this occasion, but he means you mate. Wherever ye might be reading this, let that shame sink in. You drove him away. Ye got too clingy so ye did. Always askin him whits next? Whit does the future hold for me n CM Punk? are we gonnae feud wae Triple H? Kane? are we gonnae come back as a heel? are we gonnae reform the new Nexus and confuse the shite ootae everyone wae that angle again? WE NEED ANSWERS PUNK! CAN I BOOK US FOR A WEEK FOR 2 IN TENERIFE OR NO PAL? WHERE IS THIS RELATIONSHIP GOING???

Ye drove Punk away. Face uptae it. Ye drove him away and he might never be coming back. Know whit else drove him away and drove a wedge between him and Paul Heyman? The fuckin Undertaker. Punks inability to end the streak despite performing at an obscenely high level in their WM 29 match wis what started it aw. He became disenchanted. Distant with loved ones. He stopped taking care of his body. He stopped adhering tae conventional facial hair standards. He just stopped being CM Punk. Then you came alang wae yer clingy bullshit and ye drove him away. Know whit the first step in the healing process is? for Heyman anyway? ending the streak. Paul Heymans best pal and the guy who shat oot Leigh Griffiths after a particularly nasty curry 23 years ago. BROCK LESNAR!

Brock comes oot and actually does a decent job on the mic. Nice wee intense promo about how he’s gonnae succeed where others have failed. Cries Punk a failure. Before throwing down the mic and bouncing aboot earnestly. Loving yer energy Brock mate. Yer a bobber and weaver. If I can say nuhin else fur ye, I will say I’m fairly confident ye could outrun a Fiat Bravo. He’s gettin ready tae head up that road tae get his giant quads massaged by Sable, when Mark Henry does a really fuckin stupid thing. Mark mate, I love ye, but fuckin stop this eh. I know yer a big unit, and a mean lookin big bastard in yer ain right. Fair play. I widnae mess, and I’ve been involved in a confrontation or 2 in my time. I mind I pelted my neighbours door wae snowballs when I wis wee, and oot she came tae fuckin scald me fur it. I didnae think she wis in ye see. How wrong I wis. I hiD behind the hut, but she kent I wis there. Cawed me AW the bastards. So I know whit its like tae look at a beast square in the eye n go “right you..come ahead” but once that beast bit me, i didnae keep gaun back tae get my fingers chewed. If there’s any wisdom I could share wae Mark Henry, it would be this. Stop putting yersell in situations where Brock Lesnar could hurl steel steps at ye, before he F5s ye through a table. Stop daein it. It looks sare. I’m willin tae bet it is sare.

So aye. Mark henry got F5’d through a table, then THE GREATEST THING IN THE WORLD HAPPENED AND I’M STILL INCREDIBLY HAPPY ABOUT IT.

It’s been a great source of pain for me that The New Age Outlaws are the WWE Tag Team Champions and I don’t fuckin love it. The Outlaws are my favourite tag team of all time. I always found it hard to identify wae tag teams when I wis younger. The Outlaws, and maybe Demolition when I wis wee are the only ones I’ve ever really went daft fur. Maybe the LOD anaw. Daft for tag wrestling like, but no a lot of teams managed tae make their way tae favourite status. I mind when the Usos first started tae get more TV time, despite their relative low card stats I wis intae it. Coupla brerrs flyin aboot daft, working beautifully as a unit. Aw the samoan drops, superkicks and big splashes ye can handle. Pretty fuckin flawless anaw. Considering the high risk nature of their work, they usually get it spot on, and the boayz have a zest for livin life that ye cannae help but tae get drawn intae. I know I kid on I cannae tell them apart in these reviews, n aw that, but I mean that in good humour rather than disrespect, cause The Usos are ma boays. I thought they should have taken the belts aff Rollins and Reigns…didnae happen. Fair enough. Cody and Goldust had momentum and I assumed them dropping the belts would be the catalyst for their WM feud, so we let that yin slide. Surely The Usos take the belts aff them in the battle of aw the brerrs though? Nope. Yer auld da’s the limpin Outlaws took them, and at that point my patience is wearing thin. Outlaws can still go anaw, and they had been their usual hilarious selves throughout this wee surprise spell back in the spotlight, but here’s the thing guys. Its really nae big deal, I just need yees tae dae me this one favour….

COME UP AFF THEY BELTS. THE NOO. 

Yer time’s up. Yer tea’s oot. Its time. Usos. Title shot. An operatic version “You’re The Best Around” is filtered intae The Usos locker room as they get ready. Destiny is upon yees troops.

The New Age Outlaws vs The Usos (Tag Title Match)

Road Dogg tells Chicago they’re no worthy of hearin his patter, and thats EXACTLY why ye need tae be shining up that belt up real nice, turning it sideways and handing it tae The Rocks wee cousin. You anaw Billy. As wonderful as that ass still is, yer 50 mate. Get tae.
Usos bounce oot wae the look of a coupla cunts who know fine well they’ve got some straps comin tae them. An extra bit of pep in their usually already exceedingly peppy step. These cunts were ready. They’ve been ready since the day Rikishi painstakingly squeezed them oot his baws that night, even though his hip wis sare fae vigorously rubbing his sweaty, cellulite coated erse in the faces of various men. Born fur this.

I loved everythin aboot the match, but that might be cause of how invested I wis emotionally. I couldnae sit still fur it. Every near miss wis a heart attack. Every 2 count for an Outlaw provoked a howl of “awww ffs maaaaaahn!”
Outlaws started aff dominant. I cannae even pretend I gie a shite. Can I skip tae the end yet? Blah blah, mare Outlaws dominance. Then it turned! Samoan Drop on Billy! mad Half Nelson slam hing on Road Dogg. Aw man, is it happening? Road Dogg n Billy end up settling propped up in opposite corners, so Roadie catches a stinkface. “Shades of Rikishi!” is the cry, and that gies me an unpleasant vision of Rikishi leavin skidmarks on some poor cunts face. Billy Gunn wisnae wantin any broon streaks tae go wae the blonde dye-job he’s sportin, so up he gets, only tae catch a corkscrew moonsault. A nice exchange wae Billy and Jey, leads tae the fame-asser attempt fae Billy being dodged and then…well….then that thing happened.

Jimmy hits a flying crossbody on Road Dogg outside the ring, tagging Jey in mid dive. Thats the kinda thing that makes The Usos better than the rest. Mid air tags, and seeming like they’d be really gid fun tae play Mario Kart wae. A superkick fae Jey is followed by a big splash aff the top rope and d’ye know whit followed that.

NEEEEEEEEEEEW TAG TEAM CHAMPS. THATS WHIT.

Ma fuckin boays done it. It’s been a long hard road troops. We’ve walked it together. You’ve had the wrestling covered for the most part and I appreciate that. I’ve took care of the overly exuberant tweets about yees in a Glesga accent. We’ve worked together tae make this dream a reality and see when they say Uce? Or even when I say it. YOU BETTER GIMME AN “OH!” Say it with me…..

UCE!……………………………

OH-YEAH

Fuckin Usos wae the fuckin tag belts. I cannae even keep watchin this. Its aw too much. I swear tae got I sweated my spleen oot. Is that possible? i feel like I’m missing a spleen.

So aye….the rest of the show eh. Wyatts and Shield tae come. Should be awrite or somethin. Whitever. THE USOS ARE THE TAG CHAMPS.

Backstage segment wae some divas. Aksana wants tae ride Aaron Paul. If ye’ve no watched RAW yet, I suggest ye fire up a wee stream of NXT Arrival, and watch Paige vs Emma insteada whitever this shite wis. The Smellas were there tae, and now I have cataracts. 

Big E vs Cesaro

This again? fuck sake RAW. Yer spoilin me. Cesaro catches Big E wae a huge tilt-o-whirl backbreaker, and the crowd goes fuckin daft for it. Big E gets tossed tae the outside and avoids an attack by Swagger, before slappin his chops fur uhm. Big E gets swung aboot daft for a while. Cesaro with the upper hand in what was sure tae be another intriguing contest between these two warriors! but then eh…Swagger Bomb? whit?

As much as I’m enjoying the tension between yer Real Americans and where it might lead, I will say this tae ye Jack Swagger. The good grace ye’ve earned fae being somewhat interesting, and putting on some decent matches lately is wearing fuckin thin ma man. If ye interrupt another Cesaro match wae yer nonsense, we’re gonnae huv problems. Problems lead tae huvin words, and words lead tae me fillin a canvas bag fulla coppers and scuddin yer glaikit jaw wae it. Stop doing that please.

As the Real Americans have a wee word about what just occurred, Big E taps Cesaro in the shoulder, and plants him wae the Big Ending. Swagger shrugs his daft shoulders lit he’s Shaggy in the video for It Wasnt Me. It wis you but Swagger. Its always you. APOLOGISE!

The Wyatt Family vs The Shield

I realise ye kinda need tae put on a stacked show when there’s a legitimate threat of yer audience turning their back on the show whilst chantin “Ace Steel!” intae an empty juice cup, but ffs, yer gien me a heart attack here! This beautiful shit already. I’m no prepared for this ataw.

The staredown happens again, this time it starts fae when Bray gets up out his chair. The Shield urnae intae the big staredown this time though. They know the score. Big cunts, wae big beards. Nae need tae stare. Hit them wae a suicide dive instead, it’ll last longer. Thats whit Seth and Deano done, taking out Harper and Rowan wae big dives tae the outside, leaving Bray tae enter the ring tae catch a thunderous Samoan Drop aff Reignsy. The the match started, and Seth Rollins lost the fuckin PLOT mate. Flying forearm and a dropkick on Harper. The yer Harper tries a top rope German Suplex only for Rollins tae land on his feet and send Harper flyin tae the outside. Rowan gets dropkicked aff the apron anaw, then Harper catches a huge dive. Rowans aw the way err the other side of the ring feelin left oot, so he eats wan anaw. Harper catches a kick tae the chops tae, and yer man Reigns is fuckin delighted wae how its aw unfolding. Nae wonder Reignsy ma man, yer cousins just took they tag belts and now yer pal is single handedly batterin fuck oot The Wyatts while you get tae stand on the apron and plan out an evening of pumpin every cheerleader in Chicago.

Harper takes advantage of Rollins tumbling tae the outside, and fires him intae the barricade. Advantage Wyatts for the first time. Rowan gets in and continues the Seth Rollins doing, but Rollins gets some respite when he sends big ginge teeth first intae the middle turbuckle. Harper jumps in and boots Reignsy aff the apron for some reason anaw. Tae my knowledge, ye cannae gie Roman Reigns a big boot tae the jaw if yer away err the other side of the ring haudin on tae the tag rope so that’s a fuckin VERBAL WARNING fur big Herpurr. Ambrose gets in and looks INTAE IT mate. A kinda crazed lookin Lou Thezs press wis followed by some frantic jabs, and wee dropkick tae Rowans leg. Followed that wae a leg sweep and unbelievably for a WWE show, we actually seen a properly applied figure 4 leglock! That’s right aye. After sufferin through a gid year of The Miz daein it properly 1 out of every 15 times, Dean Ambrose shows us aw how ye dae it. Harper gets really cheeky again but, n jumps in tae hit a wee double stomp on Ambrose chest. TAG ROPE LUKE…YE’VE GOT TAE HAUD THE TAG ROPE MATE.

Disregard for tag rope etiquette aside, Reigns sends Harper flyin intae the timekeepers wee den, ruining a gid game of travel scrabble the poor cunt had gaun wae Lilian Garcia and JTG. He had most of the letters for the word “serendipity” and at that point he wis really just playing the waiting game.

Ambrose gets belter wae some big forearms, but he’s no for backing down. Spits right in Harpers face n tells him tae bring it on. A drop-kick fae Harper sends Ambrose tumbling intae The Wyatts corner, and thats just no where ye need tae be Deano mate. Rowan attempts tae twist Deans heid aff, but he wis distracted fae the task at hand by Ambrose tryin tae pull his beard aff in the wanner. The heid twistin got dingied, and instead he settled for sending Ambrose intae the ropes, and catchin him wae a sidewalk slam on the way back. Harper unleashes some brutal uppercuts, but Ambrose gets a second one and takes him oot wae a big lariat. Folk have been ignoring my advice aw night, but if I could pass my thoughts on tae Mr Ambrose for a moment I’d tell him tae TAG THE FUCK OUT. NOW.

Harper’s wise tae it but and keeps a haud of Deanos boot. In comes Bray tae clatter Reigns aff the apron, only tae turn roon and catch a perfect ddt aff Ambrose. Ambrose uses that opening tae crawl towards his pal Seth for the tag, but Seth looks salty folks. He looks like a bear wae a sare erse. He looks lit he’s in a monumental huff. Jumps aff the apron and tells Reigns and Ambrose tae figure it out. I didnae really get it if im honest. Seemed tae take the huff for nae real reason here. There’s been problems in the past Seth mate. I know this, but thats yer brerrs right there. The three of yees were sposed tae be hittin up TGI Fridays wae The Usos efter the show tae celebrate aw 5 of ye gaun oot there and gettin it pumped. Plans ruined, match ruined anaw as Bray hits a splash on a knackered Ambrose in the corner an hits that flying forearm that looks lit a fuckin bus hits the recipient when he gies it oot. 1…2…REIGNS! Big Reignsy stops the count and goes fuckin mental. Tosses Bray outside, before gien oot Samoan Drops n Superman Punches lit they’re gaun oota fashion (thats fuckin horrendous da patter actually, I’ll try that again) Reignsy summons the power of every god and demon ever conceived, real or fictional to hit and heart stopping Samoan Drop on Rowan and a TITANIC Superman Punch on Rowans good friend, Mr Luke Harper. Aye that’s better….I’m happy wae that. On tae mare amazin shit about this match eh?

Ambrose sets up Harper on the middle rope and shouts big Roman roon. “Hit that mad apron dropkick ye dae!” he cries, and Reignsy duly obliges. Ambrose throws frenetic rights n lefts on Bray, as we cut tae the outside where Reigns spears Rowan clean err the announce table. Big boot tae Ambrose from Harper followed by Part 2 of the LUKE HARPER SUICIDE DIVES! chronicles, and in this episode we see…well, we see Luke Harper hit a suicide dive on Roman Reigns. It’s fairly self explanatory guys. Try n keep up.

Wae everycunt else laid oot, and Rollins watching it aw unfold fae the aisle, we were left with the two geniuses of this scintillating fued. The two guys who I personally consider tae be the future in terms of bonafide heels in this company. Bray Wyatt and Dean Ambrose. Wyatt gies ma man Dean a poignant kiss on the forehead before serenading him tae sleep wae the dulcet tones of Sister Abigail. 

Seth Rollins looks on. Teary eyed and regretful. We saw a beautiful story unfold in front of our very eyes wae the second installment of The Wyatts vs The Shield, but we also might have witnessed the first signs of a Shield breakup before Mania, and dye know whit? I don’t think I’m ready. They still had so much tae experience together. 3 halves dont make a whole boays. Stay together for the kids. Teamwork makes the dreamwork.

Batista having a wee chat wae Renee Young. No even gonnae pretend I took any of it in when I watched it live, and I’d only re-watch it if there wis some kinda lesbian porn scene unfolding in the background, but I heard nothing wae regards tae that being the case, so I’ll make it up eh. Basically Batista wants us all tae know that wearing jeans which barely go past his baws disnae make him any less of a man, and if ye judge him for it yer probably a Tory. He then goes on tae explain hos David Camerons policies are outlandish, and his friendship wae Barack Obama probably isnae a sincere one. DEAL…WITH…IT.

Oh aye, and he takes on oor DBry in the main event.

Summer Rae and Fandango vs Santino and oor Emma

Och here, I’ve wrote millions so far, so I’ll just gie ye the jist here. Emma won wae the Emma lock, and there wis some funny shit early on where Santino n Emma kept high fiving and unintentionally tagging each other in. This wis the best match I’ve seen in this wee feud so far, and thats heartening tae see. Summer and Emma huvnae had nearly enough time in the ring tae show ye how good they are, so it wis nice tae see them strut their stuff wae a decent bit of time tae strut it.

Sheamus vs Christian

Another cracker of a match between these two, but as a rivalry, and I’m really no feelin it. Especially wae Christian playing the heel, cause he’s clearly the nicest man that’s ever lived. He made it work in the past, but the aulder he gets, the kinder his eyes get. Its undeniable. Wae every “bulldug chewin a wasp” face he makes, I picture him helpin an auld wuman wae her shoppin. Wae every “Sheamus sucks and so does all of your moms!” promo he cuts, I see him visiting sick weans in the hospital and gien them a Gameboy each. He’s a good Samaritan and we aw ken it. A Canadian man who was custom built tae bring delight tae the masses. If you don’t like Christian yer a fuckin wrong un basically. The match had yer usual mixture of uppercuts and forearms wae the boys. Lovely wee dropkick on Sheamus through the middle rope after Christian launched him tae the outside. Irish curse backbreaker n that. Like I said, match wis really gid, but it didnae click wae me. Didnae get the power of a thousand suns shootin through ma boaby, or I dunno. Suhin. They had a wee game of chasies roon the announce table, then yer Sheamus hit White Noise for a two count. Two isnae enough Sheamus, but a Brogue Kick on the apron that sent Christian fleein back intae the ring did get the job done and that wis that. 

See this is whit I’m no gettin. Where’s the need for this? Christian has tae make time in his busy schedule of painting pretty pictures and thinkin up recipes for delicious cakes tae batter Sheamus when he’s huvin a wee interview wae Renee. Its no fair. Neither of them want this. Braw wee moment towards the end where Christian holds a spotlight tae his face and urges Sheamus tae come n get it if he wants it. Sheamus wis oot cold but. Sleepin. People generally cannae hear ye when they’re sleepin mate. Well dugs cannae anyway. That’s why I tell my dug every night about how much I love Kevin Nash, cause I’m too ashamed tae tell any humans. Particularly wans that happen tae be awake. 

Smellas beat Aksana n Alicia

Bleughhhhhhhhhhh. If ye took my advice earlier n decided tae patch the daft promo these tubes had on the go and tune intae a bit of Paige v Emma. Just dae that again here. I realise The Bellas are pumpin important people and therefore that makes them important, but d’ye know whit else? I hope they faw doon a well.

After the first hour, which wis laden wae heart attacks and my silent screams of “im gonnae wet masell” tae the dug, we had hit a lull, so who else but Daniel Bryan can sort that oot fur ye? He sooks up the crowds erse and wae anyone else I’d probably be calling him a sellout beardy wank, but he’s Daniel Bryan mate. He can say and dae whitever he likes. He tells the people of Chicago that THEY have a VOICE. Aye yer no kiddin DBry, and that voice keeps spewin oot CM Punk chants in situations where they’re no relevant. He tells them they’re gonnae hi-jack RAW together! Cheers Danny mate, spent the past few days slaggin fuck oot the concept, and now my favourite cunt is endorsing it. He says he’s no leavin the ring tae one of 4 things happen.

1. Batista comes doon for a fight.
2. Triple H comes doon tae answer his challenge to a WM match
3. CM Punk returns wae the Hunico gimmick.
4. What does everybody need? HEAD! 

Triple H n Steph come doon tae repeatedly slag DBry. Trips calls him a B plus player and says he should be content wae that role n stop blaming his failures on others. It wis barely watchable wae the CM Punk chants and the boos drowning it oot, but it wis a crackin promo. Trips is working this angle tae perfection for the most part, I’m just fuckin bored of it now. Its been the same routine since Summerslam. We get an “asshole” chant cause this crowd are fae 1999 and they’re proud of it anaw. DBry says the people can see through his lies. DBry re-iterates his desire tae kick the mile long beak affa Hunters melt at Wrestlemania. Steph tells DBry they’re aw gonnae turn on him. Triple H n her would never dae that. Did Triple H no Pedigree him so Randy could swoop in n take the belt? DBry urges Steph and Trips tae swap underwear, and he’ll batter Steph at Mania instead, since Triple H is feart. Trips pipes up wae “she’d batter ye anaw!” and it aw gets a bit Jeremy Kyle fae there. Trips and Steph insists he leaves their ring an DBry stops them right there. Its no your ring ya fuckin wallopers its THEIRS! The Chicago crowd has its own standard issue WWE ring apparently. Ye learn suhin new every day eh. 

Triple H lets us know that they own everything in the arena. Including the fans, Daniel Bryan himself, and the big castrated machine who they shouted doon for hauners. There’s big auld bawless Kane, and there he is on the floor as DBry stops him in his tracks wae a suicide dive and about a million right hooks tae the jaw. Some dottery lookin refs, Al Snow and some Secuirty Guards manage tae pull DBry aff him, and Dbry walks away triumphant. Wae a victory stauner the ye could dae gymnastics off of. Loved the whole segment so I did, aside fae the CM Punk chants drowning out some pretty strong heel promo’in fae the beak and ees burd. 

Dolph Ziggler wins a match against Del Rio cause Jessie fae Breaking Bad stood up

Aye so…whit? I love Breaking Bad as much as the next guy, but this is how ye use this cunt as a guest star? I didnae get it ataw. Loved the entrance wae him n Dolph right enough, hopping oot some kind of motor vehicle. I know fuck all about motors, but I believe this wis a stunt in order tae aid the promotion of Aaron Pauls latest feature film, The Need For Fast and Furious Speed 13. They enter the ring together, and mad Aaron points at Dolph a lot. Then the match starts and its fuckin braw. Always is between these two. I genuinely think that if it wis allowed tae grow, this feud for the World Heavyweight Title wid have got them both over as fuck. Dolph hits his usual array of high octane shit. Jabs up the top rope, followed by a fameasser attempt which wis turned intae a tilt-o-whirl backbreaker by Bert. Superkick tae the jaw gets a two count anaw. One of yon vicious kicks that he scudded Dolph wae about a million times when he unlawfully took that belt aff him. Jessie fae Breaking Bad stood on the announce table, did not call Del Rio a “bitch” even wan time. No even under his breath. Then Dolph hit The ZigZag for the win. Whit a fuckin shite way tae make use of a pretty decent guest star. I don’t get why he had tae get involved in the match ataw, just have him dae commentary and plug his film. Maybe slag Micheal Cole a bit, everycunt does that.

Big E vs Swagger 

Didnae happen. Cesaro jumps in right away before these cunts can sling a waistlock in anger. Hits the neutralizer on Big E, and leaves him deid in a heap. Swagger gets lippy wae Cesaro even though he’s done the very same hing tae him twice now, so Cesaro says enough is enough. Gets Swagger doon and its swinging time baby! but then Zeb Colter proved why he’s the best manager in WWE today. I know Heyman is the promo king, but Zebs oot there every week making Jack Swagger relevant and elevating Cesaro tae the point where they’re now looking at him as a potential main event cunt. That’s being a manager. As good as Heyman is, he failed tae get Axel or Ryback over wae the fans, so fuck it. Zebs the man. Zeb tells them tae hug it out and they do, wae a side order of aggression, but a hug’s a hug mate. Nae doubt these cunts are splitting soon though. Somecunt fuckin has tae anyway since Goldust and Cody Rhodes are showing nae signs of it.

John Cena says things about the Arena, then Bray Wyatt

I wisnae really intae this Cena promo. As solid as it was, he wis going through the usual fuckin routine. The fans are loud. Some of them love him, some of them dont. Same shite, different city. CM Punk chants. Cena chats about how various cunts have battered him in this arena, including their main man CM Punk….and then it got good.
Is Cena turning? I don’t really buy it myself, but thats two weeks now that he’s looked right intae that camera, was the stoniest look on his melt and insisted that the change the WWE universe demands WILL GO THROUGH HIM. Then it took a mare bitter tone, as he aims a wee dig at Bray and insists that he’s standing tall right there, wae a gammy leg no less, waitin for Bray tae come oot n talk aw the cryptic shit he’s so fond of. The shit that makes the hair’s on the back of yer neck staun up and sprout danelions oot the top of them. That patter that make ye slide yer couch right up tae the tele, just hoping that somehow yer 32 inch Panasonic flatscreen can sook ye in so ye can be IN the promo. Then the lights when out, and Bray clocks in for shift number two of the night. No content wae conquering The Shield once more, he wants a word wae Johnny Cee.

Its just a titantron chat this time but. He seen Johns wee sare leg and decided tae gie him a break fae gettin his baws booted on this occasion. Bray speaks of the empire Cena’s built around him, and how he plans to bring it crumbling down. Who’ll be left for ye John when Bray takes it all away? well yer Silicone laden Bella will prolly stick by ye. I imagine Zack Ryder will still let ye come err tae his n play minecraft, but apart fae that yer fucked. Give up this fight John mate. This war disnae have a happy ending for you. At least get on the case of finding some soldiers ffs. Ye need hauners or these cunts are just gonnae leather ye every fuckin week. Gie Mark Henry and Big E a shout. Efter the plastic surgeons rebuild his broken everythin fae the F5 he took, theres nae better hauners in this world than Mark Henry. Nae better friend either btw. Me and Mark have shared many chats about life, and how we should set about living it and they’ve aw been sheer joy. I’ve come tae learn that he prefers a nice coffee and a wee scone as opposed tae a pint, but we still get our drink on noo n again. Got tae gie aw they Enchiladas we scoffed suhin tae be soakin up eh!

Listen though. It wis a smashin promo, and I like Cena so it wis gid tae see him escape without a doing. Fuck yer CM Punk chants when Bray Wyatt wis saying words though. Take that take fuck. Hopefully when ye get tae “fuck” theres a lavvy near by, n yees can aw take shots of each of flushin yer daft heids doon it.

Rusev comes oot and cuts a promo in his native tongue, whilst standing on top of 5 Argos catalogues and Yellow Pages wae a hole in the middle. Whits the hole fur Rusev mate? is that wee ridiculously frightening blonde ye cut aboot wae no gien ye yer hole naw? get that sorted big yin.

Daniel Bryan vs Batista

Fuck off btw. First get tae fuck wae calling this their first ever meeting on RAW. Daniel Bryans first match on RAW wis against Batista ffs. Secondly…fuck off. Just get this tae fuck. Orton comes oot tae watch, but he spends most of his time gently caressing his shiny belts. Makes sure tae show Batista the correct method for gratuitously rubbing butter on the middle part so it gets extra special shiny. Match wis pretty shite. Batista just cannae work anymore can he? he used tae be limited and I hated his character, but he wis at least watchable. This shit he’s serving up right now is fuckin torture. Everything is off. Cannae even sling a convincing clothesline at this point and as hard as Daniel Bryan tried, he couldnae drag anything decent oot the big idiot. Bry slings numerous dropkicks at the sour pussed wank, before he he runs for cover. Follows that up wae a picturesque suicide dive and a wee missile dropkick. Kicks tae the chest and the big roundhouse which Batista actually sold quite well. Credit where its due n aw that.

Then Triple, Steph n Kane appeared n we aw got a bit excited. Wae the odds stacked right against DBry the CM Punk chants are almost deafening. Surely he wis gonnae return? Save the day and beard is re-united wae the best. Or even better, he turns on him! GTS tae DBry. Heel Punk. Fuckin…CORPORATE PUNK. But naw. None of that gid shit. Just a predictably depressing end tae what had been a largely joyful RAW. Batista chucks DBry at Orton, then we get back intae the ring and DBry looks set for the win, only for his auld pal Kane tae jump on the apron and force DBry tae call a brief intermission in the Batista battering tae clean Kane oot. DBry looks for the suicde dive on Kane n Triple but Batista dives outta nowhere wae a SPEAR! Yes thats right folks a SPEAR from the Animal. A spear which consisted of him clattering shoulders wae DBry and them both fawin doon in different directions. A fuckin spear. Imagine huvin the audacity tae call that botched shoulder tackle a fuckin spear? Roman Reigns needs tae take this cunt aside and ask whit the fuck he’s playin at.

So aye. Shite spear. Triple H grabs him by the hair n starts chatin shite, so DBry kicked him in the heid. As nice as that wis, ye knew he was about tae eat a Pedigree. Kane looks on in an exceedingly slack jawed fashion as Batista hits the Bawheidsta Bomb, wae a Pedigree as the chaser. Bleugh. Fuck right off man.

Overall considering it took me on an emotional rollercoaster that led tae blood, sweat, tears and a torn groin far first pumpin so vigorously efter The Usos took the gold, I’m calling this RAW a belter. It had a gid half hour-45 minutes that I wis indifferent tae though, and the constant CM Punk chants were a pain in the dick so i’ll gie it 8 shootin star presses outta 10 and thats that.

Congrats tae Paul Bearer on his induction tae the Hall of Fame btw. Well ye cannae congratulate him personally, due tae deidness, but its a well deserved honour. Taker would have been fuck all without him in the early days.

UCE!

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