The only reason most people would tune into this episode tonight is to find out why Hornswoggle turned on his hair. All this and less, on Smackdown!

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Spoiler alert! This did not happen on WWE, shocking, I know. Hop on it!

(Also: something, something, Seth Rollins)…

“I watch, write, suffer, and succumb to this show, yet have to remind myself of what happened only minutes after each episode. I don’t just do results, more what is going on while I watch the show…”.

– Seriously. Let’s say you just went into a brutal best of seven series with your most hated rival in sports, and swept them in four games. It took it’s toll on you, but your team devastated the other team, forcing one of their star players to retire early. You’re on top. The for no reason you decide to jump to the team you obliterated for no decisive reason… and throw your old teammates under the bus on the way out. Seth? You’ve got some ‘splaining to do.

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Cool cat, daddio!

– Behold, the HHH of logic here with his mathematical wisdom and pink tie of death. Rollins follows “suit” not wearing one, opting to remain in his old Shield gear. “You sold out!” chants erupt. People look upset, the two heels look smug. HHH rants and raves. Seth then goes to explain, but says that the only person that needs to know the answer to why he did what he did is himself.

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Bam!

– Dolph interrupts and says he is sure he will be punished and pushed further down the wormhole for scolding Seth. Dolph is unimpressed because Seth went against the authority, helped get rid of Batista… but Seth is nothing but a traitor and has done the worst thing he could do… he sold out. Seth whispers in HHH’s ear, and then The Game retorts noting the selling out, was of arena’s hence referring to the drawing power of The Shield. Then he makes a match. Guess who is in it? Seriously, guess.

– * A Random Red Couch vs. The Wendy’s Girl. Seth Rollins vs. Dolph Ziggler. The match is decent, but the announcers spend most the time talking about the turn. JBL notes Seth was the architect, and the brains behind the formation of the faction. Without him, there is no The Shield. Ziggler gets a little offense in, forcing Seth to retreat to the outside by his pacing COO cohort. Like a proud Pa Pa, HHH observes his protege take control with highflying restholds? Then things get messy and violent. Good tandem here. Neat spots here include a Shining Wizard to Ziggler off the apron to the outside (pre-commercial break) and a see-sawing swinging DDT on Rollins (post break). Rollins also takes a reversal from the top rope into a facebreaker as Ziggler is given plenty of near falls. But Ziggler falls victim to Seth’s Curb Stomp. That’s the first quarter of our show, and probably the only part worth watching this week, I suspect.

– Barrett is interviewed by Renee. He’s putting his title on the line in a triple threat, and plans on winning. Wow. At least it’s a title match.

– HHH and Seth run into Orton who literally welcomes him to The Dark Side. The Big Show confronts Rollins and calls him a piece of trash who sold his soul. So HHH makes a match with Randy and Show.

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Makes more sense than breaking up The Shield.

– * Non-Title Match: The Usos {C} vs. Ryback and Curtis Axel. And we commence our way downhill. This isn’t terrible. It’s just not relevant. We get about 5 minutes, in which the Usos dismantle Rybaxle because… well, they suck? Yeah, that works. Uso #5.23 wins for the clones.

– Lana comes out to praise Mother Russia and their Nobel Peace Prize, Trotsky, and so forth. She is fun as usual. Then the geographically challenged man-beast enters wearing his gold star medal around his neck and waving his flag. And he’s back to take out visual minorities.

– * Rusev vs. Xavier Woods. Not much to see here folks. Rusev crushes Xavier.

Logo Kalisto and Ricochet saying fuck you to J.T. Meanwhile, the WWE chose not to sign Ricochet because the kids at NXT marked out over him and they didn’t know who he was. Bullshit. Go AAA!!!

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TILT!

– * IC Title Match: Bad News Barrett {C} vs. RVD vs. Cesaro (Triple Threat Rules). Here we get a little Heyman doing his “My Client, BRR….” but nothing special. But he joins commentary, so there is that. It’s explained that Cesaro interfered on Main Event and took out both RVD and Barrett. Heyman notes Cesaro is the ARMBAR winner, and he deserves this.

– These three do mesh well together. The match keeps moving, and involves all of them without much “rest time”. I suppose it’s worth checking out as well. I enjoy watching Cesaro slam Barrett atop the ring barricade, only to setup RVD for his guillotine legdrop upon BNB moments later. The final moveset involves Cesaro reversing BNB at one corner into a slam, setting up RVD for a Fivestar Frogsplash upon the recovering Cesaro, and as his “highness” recovers, he eats a Bullhammer. The champ retains. Heyman looks pissed.

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SMH…

– Bray Wyatt returns. He notes how close to death he came, but battle-shipped back and beat the Reaper in a best of seven showdown with games of Twister, Super Smash Brothers, and Rock-Paper-Scissors. Wyld Stallions Rule! Bray Wyatt claims he is reborn, and asks us to join him. Fuck that. My exclusive membership clubcard from the Fall of 2012 is being whored out to the masses? I find an up-and-coming indie band and lock them into my Barkley chair so only I can enjoy them. There is no sharing in G-Land. Only Jorge wearing a sheep mask posters, J.T. Hogan holding up signs that are also holding up signs (Shakespeare, motherfucker), Mark lamenting his date choice, and some random zombie who writes really terrible RAW reviews at CockTalk(Every_Sunday_at_2PMEST).com.

– I accidently place plutonium in my bacon-grease compost bucket. My apartment becomes a haven for mutant pigs seeking a safe sty to meet. Support the pork movement.

– We’re reminded of how awesome NXT Take Over was.

– * Alicia Fox vs. Natalya. There was no crazy Alicia this week. What the fuck happened? Typical WWE short patience. FFW. I stop and notice Alicia starts shrieking at Nattie with a Banshee like scream. I guess she’s back? And she demands Natalya smacks her in the face like she is Micky Whipwreck or something. Nattie still wins, then Alicia attacks the announcer booth. Her target tonight is Lilian Garcia, and she demanding to know who rang the bell.

– * Bo Dallas vs. Santino. This sucked. Move along. Bo won.

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BOtched debut.

– Big Show talks about being bullied for being big. He took a kickball to the face, and that his testicles really hurt when they snapped into his nose. Good times…. I mean, bad times? BAStar? Something like that.

– * The Big Show vs. Randy Orton. You know what? I’m fucking done. FFW even if this one is good.

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Later!

– They give this almost 20 minutes. Why? I don’t know. There are people that like Orton, I guess. I suppose he finally got his drive-thru order? I don’t even bother with this crap. Fuck it. Orton gets some help from Seth Rollins. HHH enters the ring with a chair. They set Show up for Seth’s Curb Stomp finisher twice.

– Meh. The first 30 minutes only.

I criticize because I care. I did enjoy the show. I wouldn’t watch if I didn’t love this shit.

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The WWE logo comes up, and I’m out.

I land my finisher, the “Delete Recording” and call it a night.

Tell me I’m a retard on Twitter! Yes, you can mock me on social media now here: @GoftheInternet

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I APPEAR WEEKLY ON BWF RADIO!

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Listen LIVE starting at 2 PM EST at Bored Wrestling Fan dot com, and where ever the hell Joe streams it this week.
Check out BWF Radio every week. It goes up on i-Tunes on Sunday in the late afternoon of North America
Call in and leave a message (via Skype or Gmail and save a buck) at: 1(716)-HOGAN-97

Make sure you tell’em “Jorge” sent you. I will give you a shout out, maybe even get herpes! Hey, free herpes! It’s a win-win situation, right?

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This Smackdown Review Appears on Two Sites!

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Bored Wrestling Fan


A break down of various professional wrestling programs and events from the eyes of the smarky fan! I highly recommend checking out the BWF!

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A go to place for professional wrestling, boxing, MMA, and other combat sports news, rumors, podcasts and so forth. Always a nice place to get your fix, or simply learn more about the performers and athletes themselves. They are one of our go to resources for news and information for BWF Radio, and we wouldn’t have it any other way to share our content with them. Great site!

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WTF?

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Sept 6, 2013. I am a clone of G. I am currently handcuffed to one of the lower legs of G’s sofa in his apartment. Yesterday, while the real G was at work, monkey nearby shrieked at me to attempt to lift the sofa. It worked! I went to thank the monkey located in an open-doored cage on the stairs leading down to the basement of G’s basement apartment, and noticed a large man strapped into a chair in the basement. I then heard the original G returning home. I need to find his magical device that created me…

Sept 13, 2013. The real Gee has noticed my writing. That stupid fuck hasn’t deleted anything, but he did taze me repeatedly. I still think there is a monkey held captive on the stairs to the second level of this building.
Sept 20, 2013. Made progress today. Discovered some kind of cloning device. I used it to clone the device itself, and hid the copy under the couch I am “hand-cuffed” to. The monkey saw this, but I don’t think he’ll say anything. He’s a monkey, after all. Some dude named Johnny Storm stopped by to say hi. Weird.

Sept 27, 2013. An obese man who claims to be famous magically appeared in the living room today. He told me the cloning gadget I made a copy of has the powers to do much more. Sounded like a bunch of crap to me. I immediately knocked him out and tied him up beside the one the “real” G calls “Barks.” Both look the same. I killed the new guy and fed him to the other captives. I think. They both look the same. All of that future-talk and preventing the death of kayfabe annoyed me. Either way, one of the “Barks” was dinner. He tasted like chicken. Big surprise there.

Oct 4, 2013. So I guess the guy I fed to his doppleganger was actually able to escape last week with help from that J.T. guy. He was screaming something about “his” chair. Either way, G is pissed and punished me all week. He said something about maybe sending me to Fall Camp. I decided to not make any decisive moves. It seems for the best. Just like the WWE, I guess, albeit “best” isn’t the “best” word I’d use to describe the product.

Oct 18, 2013. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to write here. G has been continually sending me off to ancient historical eras to collect random artifacts. I don’t understand why a stool sample from Henry Hudson is so important. And what was the point of leaving a smoke bomb in the front hall of the Palace of Versailles on May 6, 1682? I’m told I’m going to have to… gotta go. He’s home.

Nov. 8, 2013. I’ve been sent on a bunch of weird missions. The most weird was when G sent me back to 2008. See, I snuck former PM Tony Blair into Buckingham Palace and stapled old-people-face to his kind of already old-people-face. No one has noticed even until today. I still don’t understand why he made me do that.

Nov. 15, 2013. This last week was even more bizarre. He made me put on some suit and a red tie and shave my head, and then pretend to be in control of his weekly scab collecting group. I burst in, and told the vice president and current scab champion collector that I was in charge. We bickered back and forth for a while, and then G kicked in the door dressed in drag and began shrieking that since he was the vice president of the chess club next door he was taking over. Very odd.

Dec. 6, 2013: Charles Barkley recently abducted me and took me on a cruise ship with him. We circumvented the planet, stopping at various ports-of-call, and living the high life again. It was really awesome. Then sadly, today, I awoke only to find myself back on the couch of G’s apartment. Was it all a dream?

Dec. 13, 2013. Nope, not a dream. In fact somewhat of a nightmare. This week I was forced to go to work for G while he vigorously stayed home masturbating (I can only assume) and eating nachos. Work sucked. Firstly, I am not trained to do anything G actually does at his jobs, so I looked like a complete idiot. Oddly enough, some fellow who has a Bruce Springsteen complex and calls himself “The Boss” told me that my work had shown significant improvement today. I am pretty sure G’s jobs don’t involve a body count, though.

Dec 20, 2013. Just got back from a reconnaissance mission to infiltrate Charles Barkley’s place. G insisted I take the monkey from the open cage on the stairs with me. He told me the monkey was given special orders, and my job was to get the little guy into the house. I did as I was told. Once inside, the monkey went to every toilet in the house and proceeded to defecate inside the water tank of each one. I don’t know what G is feeding that monkey, but damn!

Dec 27, 2013. Shit, I’m tired. G outsourced me to that dude who always invades via the apartment balcony to deliver bass strings to the bass player children of the world the other day. Turns out, I fucked up and gave a bunch of five and six string bass player kids, four string packs, so he made me go out AGAIN the next day to fix the problem. Turns out, that for some reason, descending into people’s homes via chimney is only considered acceptable behaviour one night out of 365. Or at least, that’s what police officers in 45 countries on the planet seem to think. I have to go out again tonight, but I’m just going to drop molotovs down the chimney instead. Fuck getting arrested again.

Jan 10, 2014. G sent me to the year 2018 to find some lady. Turns out she was laughing historically on February 6th. I return with this information. Not a very exciting adventure, and then me and the monkey play a game called hide G’s sandwich. The crawl space is full of’em.

Jan 24, 2014. I find a diary penned by a version of me, 8 generations ago. In clone generational math, that was about 3 minutes. Weird.

Jan 31, 2014. Today was a good day. I got to use my A.K. Daviel Batryan won the Regal Vibration. The WW’Eh Channel is available in Canuckstan. And the company hired a mainstream darling named D.N. Goth. This is the brightest timeline.

February 7, 2014. Went to the opening ceremonies. Yeah, that’s the ticket. The opening ceremonies. Many were lost in the battle today. I live on. Remember the fallen clones.

February 14, 2014. G said since it’s Valentine’s Day, I have to do something special for J.T. who is trapped in his apartment basement. When I asked why me, he screamed back at me, “THERE’S NO TIME!” and he proceeded to watch men’s doubles in luge. So, I took J.T. back in time to ride a brontosaurus. I don’t think he understand what I meant, but I have to admit, I’ve never seen a brontosaurus smile like that before!

February 21, 2014. G sent me back to lift Jamie Benn’s stick on a shot from the point to ensure the dreams and hopes of USA hockey fans were crushed like the hopes and dreams of Canadian WWE fans unable to order the WWE Network.

March 14, 2014. I was sent to get some popcorn from the future. Corn had become extinct in the year I was sent to. I searched for months and months (since time is relative) to no avail. When I was summoned back, I was repeated whipped and forced to drink bleach. I can see through time… Then I fell down a mountain and some random redhead giant kept shoving his pet snake in my mouth.
March 21, 2014. G sent me to be a ringer in some college basketball game today. Not sure why, he was mumbling something about busting 99% of people’s brackets. I think he really must have issues with shelves.
April 4, 2014. It’s been real quiet around here lately, ever since G took off to parts unknown. He didn’t leave me much to eat, and supplies are running dangerously low. That monkey is starting to look delicious. I wonder where Diddy keeps getting those Twinkies?
May 9, 2014. Finally home. G sent me on a very long bus trip where I was forced the wear a bunny suit and eat these little pills that made me feel funny. Every once in a while, a herd of these nut jobs on the bus and I would be led down to a boxing ring and play catch. But not catch with a dog or a ball. No. We had to catch this oily guy who must have kept slipping and falling off the ring apron every single time he went out to dance. I’m so glad that’s over with.

May 30, 2014. G said there is a special event this Sunday. I asked him what that meant. He looked at me with a dead stare for about 34 minutes, never blinking. Unrelenting, he opened his mouth and then closed it, and extended his middle finger. Great. Now I’m on monkey feces cleanup duty again.

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Shameless Plugs!

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