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Thursday, February 19, 2015

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WIRTB Review: Superbrawl 2000

Good day, Ringers. It's I, the guy who told Maffew to include more video game music, the Mustafa of Hip-Hoppa, except I don't literally die halfway through, the one and only SOTB!!! Today, we've got a doozy of a shitshow lined up. Straight from the suggestion box, we've got Peagle's suggestion of Superbrawl 2000. Other suggestions included: "Die Speedy Die" and "CM Punk!" And since those are out of the question...on Febrary 20, 2000, we were told that there's "nothing they won't do to hold the gold" and that the main event is a "three-way dance for heavyweight gold." So, judging off that, we're either going to have:

a) a legit triple threat match
b) some sort of porno with lesbian pollen
c) a WCW-circa-2000-level PPV

The opening promo is hilarity. First, we get the "Death Match" between Ric Flair and Terry Funk. Since this isn't 2015, the death probably won't be literal. Next up in the promo reel, Hulk Hogan and Lex Luger try to make people give a damn about their feud and the promo for the Heavyweight Title, complete with Jeff Jarrett calling someone "slapnuts" and hitting Kevin Nash with a guitar.

As our show opens, f'reals, we get the pyro equivalent of Pinky bonking herself. It just...won't...stop. As an aside, to keep my enjoyment level up for this event, since I'm assuming it's going to be a clusterfuck of epic proportions, I'll probably be throwing in random adult entertainers' names in, just to make sure you're paying attention. For instance, Mean Gene and Ron Jeremy look like they could've been separated at birth. There are as many black guys in the audience as there are, apparently, in adult films: five to ten.

Oh good lord...I don't think I'm going to be able to hold my tongue on this one already. And we haven't even gotten to the first match. The stilted gifs accompanying the match card, added in with the LULZ-worthy "Never Gonna Stop" cover have the effect of drinking a bottle of bleach and chasing it with 151. Oh, wow...The Demon! Now I know that I'm in for a treat.

Thirteen minutes in and we're finally getting to the first match. The Artist (formerly known as Prince Iaukea), with Paisley, versus Lash LeRoux for the Cruiserweight Championship. These assholes are in here two-stepping and we're supposed to take this match seriously? Paisley's get-up reminds me of Lacey Duvalle, in that they tend to try too hard. The audience is dead for this match, aside from the one "WWF SUCKS" sign holder. After some "brawling," we get a spot the OSW guys would probably pop over, the "Aloha Arn." TAFKAPI avoids being pinned by a sunset flip by flailing his arms violently, even getting the ref to do the same. TAFKAPI then tries to give Lash what looks like a wet willie, which results in a near fall.

I'll be honest, I'm not paying attention at this point, but what I'm seeing is Botchamania-caliber stupidity. TAFKAPI keeps getting near-falls, and then whiffs on a punch from Lash. This match thankfully ends with Lash fucking around and almost killing himself on a Frankensteiner attempt, TAFKAPIkea hitting a jumping DDT on Lash, then running his finger down Lash's stomach in a manner suggesting that Paisley isn't his type...or any woman.

Next, Norman Smiley is getting wrapped up and gives the worst sell of an injury I've seen. It's almost as bad as those 1980s porns where everything is equivalent to the best--or worst--moment ever.

Smiley: "...ooh, it [his ribs] could be cracked."
::lifts arms up, with no problem or grimace::
Smiley: "oooh, oooh, it may be cracked."

Some more backstage foolishness, and we're back in-ring for our next match. Bam Bam Bigelow versus Nasty Brian Knobs in a "Hardcore" match. In WCW, "Hardcore" came down to beating the fuck out of each other with trash cans, cookie sheets, and--well, it was pretty much like WWF at this point. Bam Bam gets hit with a trash can after being distracted by Fit Finlay. Knobs gets tossed over the railing. They go outside the ring and into the concessions area. This shit is making me miss the "let's defend the belt at a kid's ball pit or the Mall of America" era of WWF Hardcore. As BBB and Knobs go back to ringside, BBB gets tossed into the steps.

"Good thing Bam has those tattoos to protect his head," Mark Madden retorts. Yes, because ink saves people from blunt force.

Knobs then sets up a table in the corner of the ring, ends up going through it himself, then gets some trash lids for his troubles. A "Greetings from Ashbury Park" and--nevermind, BBB doesn't pin Knobs. Knobs gets a low-blow to knock BBB out the ring and Knobs pins him outside the ring.

Yep. Fuck this company.

Magic Mike, the Wigger Edition--I mean, 3 Count, is out next for their match against Norman Smiley. They begin their in-ring promo by saying "I know our fanbase in San Francisco can appreciate our many talents." ...was that some sort of subtle "gay joke," WCW, or am I giving you too much credit? Smiley is out next in a Jerry Rice jersey. Fifteen years later, I'm sure someone like Norman would be considered a big face. Or at least Santino.

The match begins, pretty much, with an "Aloha Arn" and some sort of three-on-one pin on Smiley. Smiley gets destroyed by Shane Helms, until Helms damn near kills himself on a Twisting Corkscrew Splash. Smiley gets the swing going, and ends up knocking himself out. And then we get a dance contest in the middle of the ring. After this, Norman's Jerry Rice jersey gets ripped off and 3 Count just goes all Spirit Squad on Norman. Norman ends up tapping to Evan's Boston Crab.

So far, this match is like a Kink.com fuck machine session. Some may consider it "torture," but I consented to it. So I'm gonna keep at it, possibly because I'm enjoying the "torture" I'm putting myself through.

And then comes out comes The Demon. Fuck this shit. I'm writing this at 1:30 in the afternoon on a lunch break and I'm contemplating going down to my office's "bar" and just drinking myself stupid. His opponent for the night, Generic Wrestler Name #31992, "THEEEEEE WAAAAAAAAALL." I can't even watch WCW with a straight face because every time I hear David Penzer, I just think of the OSW Review parody of his announcing style and I lose my shit. Anyway, The Demon goes back to the Gorilla position and meets up with THEEEEEE WAAAAAAAAALL. Wall ends up beating Demon in four minutes or so with the chokeslam.

So, we're four matches in and we've pretty much gotten four glorified squashes.

Ernest Miller has a backstage promo with Mean Gene speaking on how James Brown's supposed to show up. Also, something about Beethoven stealing his stuff from Little Richard. For fuck's sake. This was a good idea to someone? Miller looks like he just stumbled off of the set of Racist White Girl Assholes, Mandingo Cocks 27 and Mean Gene can't even save this promo.

Now, apparently, there's been someone in a "private room" all show. Who wants to guess that person is James Brown?

Next up? Tank Abbott versus Big Al in a..."Leather Jacket on a Pole" match.

Yeah...let's forget that this happened, "beard-cutting scissors" and all.

Three years before this, WCW was the hottest promotion around. WTF happened? Overpaid celebrities, mismanagement, clusterfuckiness, Swoll, etc.

NEXT up, after about ten minutes of promos, is Booker (T) versus Big T, a/k/a Ahmed Johnson. Anyone ever want to see Ahmed Johnson and Booker T go at it? No? Me neither. Next.

Booker T deserves his WWE HOF, just off the strength of making Ahmed Johnson look halfway watchable.
...the match was still pretty shit, though.

More promos--shit, the promos are longer than the fucking matches!!!--and we get Billy Kidman and Vampiro. You know what? This is probably the first WIRTB Review that I'm ready to say FTS halfway through. I made it through Greed with less anguish. Vampiro and Kidman look like they're trying to legit kill each other. One of the announcers says "In two years, this match will be for the world title."

I just said fuck it all to hell at this point. But, then it gets worse.

David Flair, Daffney, and "Crowbar" go up against the Mamalukes for the tag team titles.

We hear her screams throughout the match, something akin to some sort of horror porn. Her wig comes off as she does a frankensteiner-like move. She then sprays hair spray (again, WCW?) in someone's eyes. Y'know what...fuck this shit. Fuck this company. Fuck this PPV. Even the commentators are shitting on this. And not in the WWE somewhat still halfway well-intention-having type of way.

Ernest Miller is out after this shitshow (David Flair and company won BTW), insulting the crowd and calling them "rednecks" (didn't True just write something about this sort of thing) and telling them that James Brown was still on his way. We get a fat imposter. Then, of course, the real James Brown comes out.

Just when you think things couldn't get worse, it was later revealed that WCW didn't gain a single penny from having James on the show because (derp) they forgot to actually promote it. What's even worse is this: the WWE Network dubbed over his music. What's even worse still is this: this fuckery took up more time than any of the gotdamn matches. I know it's James Brown, but...fuck this.

Scott Hall appears in a promo and give the DX Crotch Chop. I think that's how little ANYONE cared about this PPV. He doesn't even do the "Scott Hall/X-Pac version." Guys, I'm going to be honest...I can't fucking do this shit. I've seen shit, and I've seen horrible crap. But, no. Just...no.

The end matches:
Ric Flair wins the "death match."
Hulk Hogan wins against Luger, then proceeds to beat the dog piss out of him with a belt. Flair comes back out, and then OMFGITSSTING!
The main event (Sid vs. Hall vs. Double J) ends in a shitshow. Everyone and their mom comes out and starts to get in on the action.

Fuck this PPV straight to hell. Don't watch it. At all. Ever. I'd recommend Greed and December to Dismember followed by Heroes of Wrestling before this.

I'm Speed on the Beat, signing off on another edition of WIRTB Review saying I review this crap, so you don't have to.


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