Holidays. They happen. The question is Taco or No Taco (hint, check out that article). By default, I will watch this show. Maybe the answer to that question will be discovered? Maybe…

Hopping time…

“I watch, write, suffer, and succumb to this show, yet have to remind myself of what happened only minutes after each episode. That is how G’s Smackdown reviews work. And as J.T. Hogan has observed, it often makes more sense than the program you are actually watching. This is not a play-by-play recap, there’s enough of those online. This is a highly-opinionated take of the show in question. Often these reviews are read aloud on BWF Radio, a show that ThatDamnDoubleC hijacks and attempts to be funny in the show notes. He’s never funny. Also, go fuck yourself, RAW review.

– Taped two weeks ago, from Corpus Christie TX, cometh the Smacketh Downeth (renown for being a generally dead crowd, let’s see how they do… tonight!).

– I think the WWE gets that aforementioned point, as they send out Johneth Cenaeth to pump up the jams. It’s the last SD for 2013, and he wants to give a bear hug to a real bear and wants to do a hiphop album with the Mediocre Khali… and more resolutions. Cena wants his rematch clause enacted tonight against Randall Keith Orton.

C’mon, who hasn’t done this?

– Instead, The Shield make their way out to the ring from the arena concessions high-fiving J.T. and Jorge in the crowd on the way down. Mark is seen in the audience holding up a sign stating, “I stole J.T.’s gimmick” and then begins shambling around like the Living Dead. Joe face palms and send Mark Henry out to help Cena who has been beaten off by the Shield. The Shield also fondle the World’s Hardest Man, so Big E. Smalls runs down to take part in this lovely ladfest. The faces wipe the bukkake from their eyes as Kane sees no evil and books all six of them in three singles matches. The Ghost of Teddy Long is seen in the audience, hovering, and summoning a ghastly apparition of an poltergeist-possessed Sign Guy who holds up a local bank in the audience while shrieking, “YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG KANE! THAT’S NOT A TAG TEAM MATCH, PLAYAH!! HOLLA!!!” Then he and Repo Man go plan a heist mission in GTA V.

I sent Konnan a Christmas card. Mr. Money approves. Check it out, yo.

– * Luke Harper and Erick Rowan vs. The Usos. This is setup based on recent activity between the groups, but it’s really just a feeder match. Harper and Rowan smush out the Usos in just over a minute or so. Post match, Captain Creepy, Bray Wyatt encourages his man slaves to set up JimmyJay to meet Sister Abigail. Back to dissecting the midcard, folks. I’ve got no problem with this.

– Renee Paquette talks to Mr. Golden shoulder platemail, the worst Decepticon ever, Randall Keith Orton. He rambles about being a future HOF inductee. RuDolph Ziggler wants a piece of this, and Kane asks them to tag with their egos in a one on one match with The Undertaker! Holla! The Shade of Garrett Bischoff is seen vaguely in the background, and a lone ectoplasmic tear rolls down his cheek displaying the following message in brail that reads, “My dad was the GM of RAW at one point, and even he knows Kane is doing this wrong”. He then vanishes as if he never existed at all. Right David Flair? Get it?

– Did I mention I was having a drop in Holiday party for the BWF Radio regulars during the screening of this episode? No? Oops. Silly me, and I only lie about the truth.

J.T.: PSST G, I’m in your crawl space.
G: I don’t have a crawl space.
J.T.: Yeah, you do.
G: No, seriously I don’t. You’re supposed to be in my apartment basement. Where the fuck are you?
J.T.: I… I… erm…. I don’t know. It smells like cookies and The Big Show.
Jorge: That’s my happy place.
Mark: Not mine, that sounds like a dystopian hell. Is this some kind of Ayn Rand nightmare?
Joe: I think that’s Bioshock. Or the Buffalo Sabres locker room. Or maybe the place bass players go to die.
Jorge: Hey! Don’t make me choke you out with my belt again.
Mark: What’t the point of this script this week?
Joe: Ask G, he writes this stuff.
G: I didn’t write this one. Why am I even saying this on the air?
J.T.: Your pet monkey and human clone were on the computer earlier. The showed me your crawl space.
Mark: What’s that door behind the couch, G?
G: Huh?

@Charles Barkley @G: “What in the hell did you do to my place, G? It smells turrible.”

@G @Charles Barkley “I bet it does. You’ll figure it out eventually.”

– The Royal Rumble is sponsored by some income tax company. Does that mean I.R.S. is going to  host a surprise educational intermission with the pan card meaning at the forefront….or be an entrant? God, I hope not.

– * Antonio Cesaro vs. Cody Rhodes. Whelp, this could be good. Let’s see… Jack Swagger and Goldust are at ring side, messing up their junk. Yep, cock talk every Sunday at 2 PM EST (BWF Radio!). Another shorty of a match, but still decent. Swagger distracts Rhodes, who is rolled up by Antonio for the win.

– I finally saw the first installment of The Hobbit the other day. Just saying.

Originally this spot was reserved for an animated gif of Big Show as the New Year’s Baby (which was awesome), but “someone” beat me to the punch. I spiked said punch with rat poison. 😀 That’s the Canadian way, eh?

– * Curtis Axel and Ryback vs. The Prime Time Players. Nobody gets an entrance. This doesn’t look like it matters then. They book everyone to get a few spots in on each other as this epidemic becomes a pandemic and a new strain of the Measles takes out the majority of the population of planet earth in ways not seen since the Spanish Flu of 1918 or the Zombie Outbreak of 2015. I punish my clone and pet monkey for messing with my plans, and suspect they have stolen my time travelling/cloning machine and foiled my evil plans. Scooby Dooby Doo, it was me all along! IT WAS ME! You and you bastard kids can get the hell out of my old abandoned fairgrounds… except for Velma… she can stay. I wink at Velma. Darren Young steals a win here, like a reverse of the last match with less “interesting”.

– We get a recall of the traditions of Saturday Night Main Event. I guess they’re selling something I can download legally online or something.

Oddly distubing and awesome at the same time.

– * Non-Title Match: Randy Orton {C} vs. Dolph Ziggler. On the WWE App, we’re told (because we still really don’t understand how exactly to download it), Ziggler said he had nothing to lose since he is in a “slump” (i.e. see comments he made about people who run the show, cough, cough). The first segment of this match is pretty good, and slow paced, so we are getting a decently longer one here. Ziggler has seemed to have dyed some of his golden locks pink, for some reason. I hadn’t noticed that before, and wonder if he is trying to emulate Y2J from like 2002 or 3 or something…

JT Hogan: I invented that brother! DUDE!
G: No that was Jericho.
JT Hogan: I invented Jericho brother! DUDE! BROTHER!
G: No that was his parents.
JT Hogan: I invented his parents’ parents! DUDE! BROTHER! DUDE!
G: Do you understand how procreation works, Bubba?
JT Hogan: I invented understanding things! Brother? What’s up with the door behind the couch?
G: Let me give you a personal tour of my basement…
Joe Hogan: I’m the REAL American
Jorge: I’m Jorge.
G: Keep watch, bud. Bass players FORLIFE!

– And we’re back. J.T. notes to me he is still at the Texas venue live, and the place is hopping. Time to check reality, and I notice J.T. is passed out drunk on my couch. I put one of those things they put on Arnold Schwarzenegger they used in The Running Man to prevent captives from leaving.

C’mon, who hasn’t done this?

– This match is pretty fucking good! Ziggler is getting lots of near falls in, and they make you think he could actually win (spoiler alert, yeah, sorry)! This was solid, but sadly, as ThinkSoJoE ejaculates in his mouth a little bit when JBL says “Ball game, and it’s over”, Randall Keith Orton RKO’s Ziggler out of nowhere to pick up the win in a great match. Post match, Orton takes his aggression out on Dolph with a steel chair and a draping DDT from the ring barricade to the floor to destroy the hopes and dreams of the pink high-lighted rubber ball.

– The Shield cut once more, another fantastic promo. DOOM! That’s what they spell out for John Cena tonight (and their other foes). Oh shit, I think I just invited more people to my party…

Someone doesn’t understand that swimming involves a pool filled with water. Unless this is some new internet craze I’m unaware of. Those kids, they’re crazy like that.

– * Daniel Bryan vs. Damien Sandow. Another match that could be GGGGGRRRRREAT! But it seems that showing them you’re a tiger, and showing them what you can do, isn’t in the stars for this pretaped holiday episode. This match is a must watch. Bryan and Sandow light it up. And while they give it the 5 minute treatment, much of the match is dominated by Damien until Bryan lands his multiple kicks and The MTBJC FTW. Post match Bray appears noting that the people have chosen Daniel as their guy, and that in time he will learn that regardless, Bray is a god. Spooky shit. Love it.

– The Shield make their way down to promote their Make-a-Shield charity for kids who only have swords, but no second-hand defensive object. Those kids THACO is reduced, and we need to provide them with garbage can lids in their newspaper-weapons battles in new housing lots that only have the concrete basement part built (maybe on BWF Radio 106, I will explain this if asked).

– The faces enter the ring to being the Festivus.

– * Non-Title Match: Big E. Langston {C} vs. Dean Ambrose {C}. Pfft. Regular readers and listeners know how I feel about these things. Just unify that shit, fuck. Sadly it’s super short, and the Ghost of Big E. Smalls tags in Butters who defeats Ambrose quickly with his Tupac bullet to the face finisher. Sad face. I like Ambrose way more, but it is what it is. I hope Smaug kills Bilbo too. Don’t post spoilers (LOL).

The Thing: Joe
Reed Richards: Jorge
Sue Storm: J.T.
Johnny Storm: Mark

G: Oh shit… I did it again…
The Thing: It’s clobberin’ time!
Reed Richards: You always say that, try something original, punk.
The Thing: Fuck you Richards. I wasn’t born this way. YOU MADE ME INTO THIS FREAK.
Reed Richards: No one asked you to be the pilot.
The Thing: You asked me.
Reed Richards: I have a selective memory, blame Sue.
Sue Storm: You can’t see me! MY TIME IS NOW!
Johnny Storm: That was a terrible comeback, that’s why you have the shittiest powers.
Sue Storm: Fuck you little brother, I have the same powers that Frodo and Bilbo had with the one ring to rule them all.
The Thing: Was that a ring of honor?
Sue Storm: You can’t see me!
The Thing: No, I can’t.
Sue Storm: Touche. Wait, didn’t I say it’s gotten a lot better over the last year last week?
G: You did, and it has…
Reed Richards: I’m the stretchy guy. And the smart one. What was the honor of Gollum biting off Frodo’s finger and falling into the pit of doom, anyways.
Reed Richards: You just don’t understand football, Marge.
G: That’s a Simpsons line that is quoted completely out of context and makes no sense.
The Thing: Shut up, G. We just beat off Dr. Doom for you.
G: Ha ha! I’m sure you did.
Johnny Storm: We did!
G: You sure did, thanks for the original content.
G: It sure was, should I set up a new live feed?
Reed Richards: What?
Sue Storm: I’m literally becoming invisible.
Johnny Storm: She said “cumming”.
G: She said more than that in the..
The Thing: Fuck this, I’m out of here. Reed, you better figure out how to solve my condition or I’m going to join the X-Men.
Reed Richards: You were never a man, rock-boy.
Sue Storm: Look G, your place is safe. We sent Dr. Doom packing. I think we have some super hero problems to resolve.
Johnny Storm: Where’s Alice Radley at?
G: Ok, shits getting weird.
Johnny Storm: Where’s Mavenfan at?
G: The Land of 1000 dances.
Johnny Storm: Where’s J.T. Ultimate Warrior at?
G: Parts Unknown.
The Thing: This party sucks.
Reed Richards: We don’t need no water…
Sue Storm: Let this mother fucker…
Johnny Storm: Flame on!!!
G: NO!!!!

– And just like that, my apartment is on fire again. I kind of fucked up this holiday party. I run from my place in terror, like George Costanza at a child’s birthday party tossing my guests to the side like props. Fuck this, I’m outta here!

I hope the holidays are treating y’all well.

– We cut back and…

– * Roman Reigns vs. Mark Henry. Even without entrances, man I need to see this. And by need… I mean, yeah. It’s a big man match, and they indeed book it as so. Big power moves a plenty. Henry isn’t booked weak, but this is not booked long. After Henry gets some power moves in, Reigns gets his Superman Punch in, and his spear, carrying forward the momentum he has had as of late. If they want to book the dude like Goldberg, I guess. Long matches? Not so much. He’s not capable of that. Reigns wins, of course.

Looks about right…

– * John Cena vs. Seth Rollins. I can’t complain too loudly about this match up. It was cool seeing Damien Sandow do the same thing a little while ago. The result will suck, but hopefully the match will not be forgotten by the fans as a testament to the ability of the guy not named “Cena” as well.
It’s set up to be a solid 20 minutes… I cross the fingers I cut off in grade 8 shop class, but they turn into dust from decomposition. Rollins is given plenty of time to display his abilities in the main event. He flies all around the ring, and plays up the heel role as he can. It’s a treat to watch. Cena plays the company man, helping put over the newish star. They let Seth get many near falls. Rollins better get some props here for his work. It’s a great match outside of the obvious finish… all the faces and heels are still at ringside after all. The finish is fantastic, as all men get involved in non-traditional ways, and Cena ultimately catches Rollins mid-air, rolls down, and drops the Attitude Adjustment FTW. Watch this match.

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

The WWE logo comes up, and I’m out.

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




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Joe continues not to notice this section. 😀 It’s like a Talking Heads song or something. 4 weeks and counting. He was warned.




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.


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