Parts Unknown #82: Raw

Well, it looks like WWE is trying to be epic again. They pull this shit once a year. Why can't they just keep things simple? Professional wrestling doesn't always need colossal, earth-shaking storylines to stoke the fire. This angle is already collapsing under its own weight. Let's forage through the rubble...


~ Drew McIntyre. He lost, but it wasn't a squash match. I question the booking, though. Why did this open the show?

~ I dug the interaction between Triple H and Vickie's stable of pugnacious midcarders (they should totally be called The Pugnacious Midcarders). Um, why didn't this open the show?

~ The 12-man main event. That's how you entertain a crowd. Each superstar worked in his signature moves, and the hot tags were hotter than usual.


~ The Mark Henry/John Morrison match. Just release The Shaman of Sexy. It's getting uncomfortable.

~ Someone should tell Kelly Kelly that she is supposed to be in character at all times. She strutted her way to the ring like she was still the Diva's Champion, making it a point to play to the male fans in attendance. Her abrupt shift to "psycho mode" was about as convincing as her ductile, synthetic chest. Sweetie, screaming is not acting.

~ Santino is funny (in small doses), but what was the point of his altercation with Jinder Mahal? They should have given his slot to Zack Ryder.

~ The fucking vote of confidence. Hey, let's end Raw with most of our babyfaces being booed out of the building. Where do you go from here? None of this is believable. Referees and announcers have been pulverized by heels since the beginning of time. And the women? Goddamn, Mae Young has been powerbombed through a table! The Diva's are just now concerned for their safety? In order for WWE's product to be taken seriously, their kayfabe plots have to be consistent. The notion that an entire roster of athletes can somehow be flustered by The Miz and R-Truth is ridiculous.

I almost expected Immortal to run out and clear the ring. Jesus Christ.

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