Sunday, July 30, 2006

Hellfire and Brimstone!


Lucky us. Seven years after mercifully being sent out to pasture, D-Generation X has returned to delight wrestling fans with their unique brand of socially-conscious humor. A return for to the glory days of palling around with Mike Tyson and hiding Chyna's jock-strap. While HHH seems happy enough dropping the Conan act to concentrate on drenching his in-laws with simulated diarrhea, Shawn Michaels' performances rub me as insincere and awkward. Jake Roberts swearing off crack insincere. Giant Gonzales awkward.


Alas, the original Big Cheese of DX has been demoted to the role of Dopey Sidekick. "Big deal", you say. "He's goofy and lovable, like if Barney Rubble wasn't a cartoon and found a time machine and transported himself to the future and decided to become the nuttiest frat boy the Delta Chi house has ever seen." I could accept this if it wasn't for the fact that an undeniable undercurrent of apprehension grows with each and every crotch-chop Shawn thrusts from his pelvis. How am I supposed to enjoy the former Boy Toy's wee wee jokes if he can't enjoy them himself? Say what you will about the in-ring ability of chaps like Mr. Ass and the Road Dogg, but one can't deny their unwavering conviction to the tenets of the DX movement. I gather that Michaels is no longer "Down With That (TM)" and I'm sure that the aforementioned Billy Ass would not hesitate in advising him to "Suck It (TM)".

Of course, it would be perfectly logical to conclude Michaels is just burnt on searching for new thrills in angle that hasn't been funny since the time he wrestled the midget dressed like Brett Hart. However, consider for a moment that Shawn has bigger preoccupations. Namely the wrath of a jilted tag partner that isn't too happy with the direction that his career is taking. I speak of the Omnipotent One. He who holds the eternal fates of our souls in the palm of His Hand. No, not Marty Jannetty.

Despite snarky asides implying that his Big Buddy God is grudgingly tolerant of his hijinks, the HBK knows he's currently holding a one-way ticket down the river Styx. H-E Double Hockey sticks, where Satan's right hand man (no, not Marty Jannetty) Kevin Sullivan books all the matches. Your fear is warranted Michaels. The Taskmaster is currently preparing an angle that features the Sexy Boy fighting in a series of handicap matches against the Booty Man, Lock Ness, and the Yeti over the next 5,000 years. The winner will establish himself as the #1 contender for the Big Boss Man's TV Title.

Heartbreak Kid, your soul stands to pay dearly for your transitory farty party funtime here on Earth. It's not too late to repent. God has a plan.

2 comments:

Reverend von Fury said...

P.N.G.:

Bravo! Good show young Chap! I especially likes the link to the eternal awesomeness that is the CWF!!

Malibu Sands said...

The C Dub F web site is great . . . I am especially amazed that the link to "Meet CWF" is above the link to "Meet Jesus."

Also, what's the deal with all of the pictures of the Road Warriors, specifically Hawk? Um, I don't forsee a resurrected Hawk coming to my town to battle the likes of Lash LeRoux or AJ Styles (I could have sworn that AJ was Mormon). A classic pro wrestling bait and switch. For shame CWF. For shame.