Welcome, cats and kittens, to yet another installment of the Jim Thorpe Award winning Cewsh Reviews. Tonight, we tackle what may very well be the biggest challenge of our short but magnificent reviewing careers. You’ve seen us review IWA:MS shows before, and we’re not exactly huge fans of theirs, but this is different, and by “different”, we of course mean, “worse”. We’re talking blood, we’re talking weapons, and we most exquisitely are talking the sweet, sweet language of the snark. So strap in and get your Incredulity Boots on, because we’re going on the world’s least exciting adventure, together.
And with no further ado, let’s do a motherfucking review, shall we?
Cewsh: In order to give the impression that this tournament is actually prestigious, or something, they start by rolling out all of the participants in this year’s tournament. Every single one looks like someone whom you’d be wary about letting clean your toilets, much less entertain you with their grace and skill. Some highlights from this group of stalwart professionals include:
And Mad Man Pondo.
As well as some other guys I can’t remember. Then, through the cheaply made curtain, arrives the star of the show and my pick to win this incredible tournament. The man, the myth, the legend, VIPER!
That’s right. You may recall Viper as having been part of the worst match that we have ever reviewed, and possibly the worst match that has ever been seen by human eyes. So he has nowhere to go but up!
Cewsh: Okay. Okay. Okay. I’ll try to deal with this.
EZ E is a Canadian wrestler, who has been wrestling, according the announcers, for 2 years. In reality, this translates to this being his first ever match. He is a pale, generic looking scrub. Juice Robinson, on the other hand, looks exactly like if Carlito was a she-male prostitute, or, for you American idol fans out there, he’s a more girly Justin Guarani from Season One. Oh yeah.
At least The Juice’s hair showed some personality, there is that. In 3 fucking minutes, there wasn’t time to notice a whole lot more.
17 out of 100.
Vice: First off, I’d like to say just how ridiculous everything about this match is right now. You have a shithead named EZ E who looks like every indy wrestler ever. Then you have a guy named Juice Robinson who looks like a pale homosexual Josh Koscheck. Actually, is calling Josh Koscheck homosexual a bit redundant? Oh yeah, and the ref is black. I’ve never really thought about the lack of black refs. You know, I could get behind the concept. But maybe not a random black dude black ref, but a really fucking awesome black dude black ref. Like a Carl Winslow, Uncle Phil or Bob Sapp. Shit, maybe even a Jeffery ref. “Please sir, would you release the hold? I have already counted to 5, so now you are just being rude! So again, please sir release the hold!”
The match itself is meh. However, there is something I did like about it. The opening match was just a motherfucking opening match. No epic near falls, no Canadian Destroyers OFF THE TOP ROPE, none of that. It was just a straight up wrestling match. Kudos. Well, it did suck. And the participants looked like retards. And had retard names. And will be retards in the indies for life. But.. they worked a normal match to start the show.
Wait. Isn’t this KING OF THE DEATMATCH 2009? Why the fuck are they working a normal match? Fucking retards
Vice: This match, on paper, tickles me so much. Mainly because of Cewsh’s reaction to it. See, he loves Jimmy Jacobs a lot. He is all the way to the right on the AWESOME scale. Now, Ego is all the way to the left. So far to the left that a second, third, fourth, fifth, AND sixth scale needed to be constructed to harness the amount of suckitude that Egotistico brings, and how much Cewsh hates him.
It’s funny. He and I always talk on AIM during matches. Right now he’s totally silent. His last message was about him hating Ego and that was like 10 minutes ago. I mean, every now and then we go quiet when it’s a fucking amazing match and we literally can’t keep our eyes off it long enough to communicate. As if we’d even want to. But no, this is pure hatred. In fact, he could be dead right now for all I know. Personally I don’t think he’s that bad. Indy, yeah. Wanker, sure. But it does make you wonder—hundreds of thousands of sperm and he was the fastest? And why is Jimmy Jacobs, who is probably the biggest name on the entire card and the best wrestler there, wrestling in the second match?
Jacobs was working the guillotine choke on Ego, and the commentators were talking about how in Mexico, blatant chokes like that are illegal. So naturally Ego is not prepared for such a thing, and doesn’t have counters and reversals. Ego looks like he’s passed out, but eventually gets his way out of the hold and builds up some momentum. Ego goes for a moonsault off the top rope, but Jacobs reverses it into a guillotine choke! It was slightly botched, but it was still REALLY fucking cool. Legitimately cool.
Also, surprisingly, it was not a death match.
Cewsh: Just in case you aren’t in the know, let me relate to you the strange tale of Egotistico Fantastico and your beloved Cewsh.
Once upon a time, there was a little boy who liked to wear luchadore masks and walk into rooms to extremely inappropriate music. He had a tendency to wear capes, walk dogs, and do stupid things that he thought looked like wrestling moves. One day I, Victor Von Cewsh, offered him a cookie at lunchtime. He took it and returned to his nonsense and NEVER THANKED ME FOR THE COOKIE. After that day I swore revenge on the entity know to his fans (ha) as Ego Fan, and so, years later, when the chance came to review a wrestling show, and he was on it, I leapt to arms. I slandered him in ways most foul and cruel, and let the world know that my contempt for the floppy masked luchadore knew no bounds, and that I would know no mercy and give no quarter in the pursuit of my holy revenge.
Fast forward to today, and here, I have at my disposal the greatest and best chance that I will ever have to scar Egotistico Fantastico to the bone, with my cutting wit and dynamic insults. To make up a curse word so vile and despicable, that seeing it will make him cry tears under his ugly, stupid, crappily made luchadore mask. Here goes:
Egotistico Fantastico is a gaping blubbercunt.
Your move, Ego Fan, your move.
As to the match itself, Jimmy Jacobs is pretty good. He’s a character wrestler, and is at his best when he is given the time and ability to tell a story in a match. But this match is so devoid of anything approaching a storyline, and is so devoid of anything approaching interest that its actually like some sort of bizarro world match, where Ego Fan gets all of the offense, and Jacobs just gets his ass kicked all match. Ego Fan does terrible offensive move after terrible offensive move, and the fans kind of haphazardly seem to be applauding politely. And then FINALLY, the end comes, and its actually extremely cool. I don’t really know how to credit it, but Ego Fan goes up for a moonsault, and Jacobs reverses it, and before Ego Fan even hits the ground, Jacobs spins around and locks in the Endtime. It was simply a really cool move, and much more impressive than I would have expected from anything on this show.
Ego Fan is still a blubbercunt.
34 out of 100.
Cewsh: Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelcome to our first deathmatch of the evening! If I’m not mistaken the idea of this match is simply to pin your opponent, or cause him to submit. There are tables with barbed wire on them, and there are ladders all over the place. Let’s introduce our fine combatants.
First we have xOMGx. He wears a mask, army fatigues, has lots of Transformer tattoos, and OH BY THE WAY is billed as having just returned from Iraq (possibly even true). They drive this fact home so many times, that either he was fucking Rambo on the battlefield, or they don’t have anything else to say about him. He also brings a gigantic club with spikes in it to the ring. How this relates to his character I’m not sure, but I am sure that that’s not military issue.
Then we have Devon Moore, the reigning King of the Deathmatches, having won the tournament last year. He wears a Burger King crown, kick pads, and is dressed like a hobo aside from that. He also comes to the ring with an enormous stick with aluminum soda cans taped to it. He is the defending champion, and that truly is surprising, as I’m 90% sure I gave him 65 cents outside of Arby’s last week. Not that one disqualifies from the other I suppose.
Anyway, the tables have barbed wire on them, the ladders have barbed wire on them, and there’s even some kind of odd pommel horse with barbed wire on it. As the match begins, Moore brings the soda stick into the ring, and is promptly hit with it, causing all of the soda cans to float gently to the floor as he sells like he got shot out of a cannon. This is somewhat amusing. That is where the amusement stops. They proceed to slowly, ever so slowly, throw each other (did I say throw? I meant prod.) onto various barbed wire furniture pieces. Its not particularly exciting, and it suffers from “Indy Hardcore Syndrome”.
Indy Hardcore Syndrome, or IHS, is active whenever indy guys have these deathmatches, and literally just place themselves wherever the next spot is, blatantly not even pretending for it to be a real match. It is a collection of spots, strung together by absolutely nothing, for no reason. But maybe they’ll win the tournament, meaning they’ll get to do this fun stuff several more times! Whee!
12 out of 100.
Vice: Yes, the guy’s wrestling name really is “xOMGx” . And he’s the worst looking indy wrestler I’ve ever seen. Truly awful. AND HIS NAME IS MOTHERFUCKING xOMGx! I bet he thought he was really clever when he came up with that name and that it’d get him a MASSIVE contract in WWE for working such a great, compelling character, and wrestling [what I assume are] five star matches night in and night out. The thing that pisses me off most about him though, is that he has Transformers tattoos. Autobot insignia on his right arm, Decepticon insignia on his left. I hate him.
This is my Egotistico Fantastico. I can feel it now.
Most unique weapon so far this evening: a stick with like 24 empty soda cans glued to the top of it. THAT’s hardcore.
A ladder is used as a weapon and it falls apart rather quickly. The commentators are like “Why can’t ladders last longer than a minute and a half in an IWA right?”, trying to put over just how violent the product is. But what it boils down to is IWA having cheap plastic ladders. Really, that explains everything. I’m fucking serious.
The winner of last year’s tournament has been knocked out in the first round! By a guy named xOMGx! UPSET OF THE CENTURY.
Here’s the thing I’ve never understood about indy promotions. Microphones. You can hear the wrestlers just fine when they talk casually. It’s not like the fans actually make any noise at all. But no, they have microphones with the volume turned all the way up. No one has any idea what anyone is saying. Why do they have mics? More professional? Something? I dunno. Maybe they should learn how to work audio systems and stuff. xOMGx gets put over like a motherfucker because he came back from Iraq or something. His opponent puts him over and Ian Rotten comes out and puts him over. Really, I don’t see this guy losing the tournament.
Cewsh: Post match, xOMGx and Moore talk about what a true American hero xOMGx is. Apparently that whole Iraq thing is entirely true, and then Ian Rotten himself (diediediediedieidideidiei3edidieiwDLJq) comes out and talks about how awesome xOMGx is. So yeah, I’m predicting that this guy is winning the whole thing this year, on the strength that he at least has a character of some kind, and the fans like to chant “USA” at him. But will his stringent military training prepare him for…..THE VIPER?!
We shall see. We shall see.
Cewsh: Okay, these descriptions of people are getting overly long, and I could honestly care less who any of these people are, so let’s try this. Word association. Ready?
Elkview Adam = Ugly.
Whew, that was much more succinct. Now I can focus all of my attention on the match.
Why, oh why, did I want to pay full attention to this match?
You saw the gimmick for this match. Barefoot in Christmas ornaments and mousetraps. Thumbtacks too, for the record, just for fun. And I have to imagine that this actually is Elkview Adam’s idea of a good time, because I have seen him twice, and both times he was stepping on painful shit. This, however, is not MY idea of a good time, and neither is it overly aesthetically pleasing to watch guys get sharp shit stuck in their feet. It takes about 30 seconds for this to happen the first time, and then we’re off to the races!
Mousetraps on people’s tongues, top rope double stomps onto broken Christmas ornaments, and a slew of other unpleasant nonsense goes on, and it just pretty much leaves me speechless. What do you say? These guys are just harming each other in cringe worthy ways, and somehow the fact that it is their feet somehow makes it worse. I’ve seen a million chairshots in my life, but when Elkview Adam gets a thumbtack legitimately stuck underneath of HIS TOENAIL, I really just wanted submit. I’m tapping out IWA:MS, you win. Just please make this particular display come to an end! Please!
Of course, it goes on for 15 more minutes after that. Thanks guys. Appreciate it.
6 out of 100.
Vice: MOUSE TRAP TO THE TONGUE.
Cewsh: Dingo actually is legitimately over with this bigger than average for IWA:MS crowd. In fact, he’s not only over, but probably the best wrestler on their roster by an incredibly large margin. Now I know what you’re thinking, “Cewsh, no indy company ever actually gives their best wrestler the title. Its always some scrub like Trik Nasty or Nigel McGuiness (Bwahaha!)” Well if you said that then you would, of course, be correct 99% of the time. I have to give credit where credit is due to Ian on this one thing, though. He knows he only has one decent wrestler, and he highlights him as much as he possibly can. So we have the premier wrestler in all of the International Wrestling Association, and then we have Michael Elgin.
Elgin has, without a doubt, the worst look on the independent scene right now. Those are strong words, be the man is wearing a tight, TIGHT singlet, with his huge fat rolls hanging out, and he has this little “My mom did it!” haircut, that makes him painfully sad to look at. In the ring, though, Elgin is a whole nother beast, and is actually a very skilled big man (though he reverts to Steen-isms sometimes, in that he’s a big man that would really prefer to be doing Swanton Bombs than Powerslams.) As a result, we actually get a match here that is so competent and watchable that it’s almost like we’re watching a cut-in from a different, better wrestling promotion where they actually value good matches every now and again.
They have themselves a solid, hard hitting match, and it honestly feel like a breath of fresh air in this show. Of course its like grabbing a breath of fresh air during a 700 man teabagging marathon, but in this case, I’ll take it, and be grateful for the opportunity.
52 out of 100.
Vice: Silly selling in serious matches is fucking retarded.
Vice: Here is the million dollar question.
Why do these wrestlers do this? They just go through the motions in a slow-paced, boring, generic death match that no amount of random gimmicky objects can save. They wrestle barefoot or take insane bumps off ladders, they get stuffed full of broken glass or splinters, and for what? They’re not going to ever get noticed by WWE for what they do. I almost guarantee that 95% of these people will never achieve any greater status than they have now. They can’t be in it for the money, because they’re not getting much of it. By the time they visit the hospital every week, they cut their profit in half. I don’t even want to know how much these guys pay for health insurance. So, are they in it because they have a passion for this? It’s possible, but I don’t see any passion. Ever. It’s just guys who don’t even look like wrestlers, doing crazy stupid shit in a ring that’s in a GYM, going through the motions and collecting a paycheck.
So.. erm.. why?
These guys just come out and “have fun”. They laugh, talk to the cameras, be idiots, etc—that’s all it is. A bunch of guys coming out and putting on a show. It’s not a wrestling promotion. This is just side-show carnival type nonsense that gives wrestling an awful name.
What? It worked for Rudy.
Anyway this match involves the floor of the ring being covered with barbed wire and lightbulbs. Yep, that simple. Throw the guy on the floor and it is supposed to hurt. Though, of course, the barbed wire is so gloriously cheap and fake, that they both spend the majority of the match simply rolling around on the ground without selling anything hurting at all. So really, it’s a lightbulb match, where there are strands of annoying cords on the floor that may trip you or something.
FOR GOD’S SAKE BE CAREFUL VIPER!
Yeah, Viper wasn’t careful. I looked away from the screen for a second and Viper was busted open with one of those disgusting indy deathmatch cuts where it looks more like someone shot him in the forehead than anything else. Luckily, Viper has no idea how to sell any moves, so he just doesn’t bother too. It either makes him look like an unbeatable cyborg, or a shitty wrestler with his name on his shirt. Seeing as its Viper, however, its probably both.
Yeah, I’ve said more than enough about this match. Seeing these guys trip on the wire and don’t use the lightbulbs it’s almost too humorous that this is a deathmatch at all. This match was tamer than a Corey Haim and Feldman reunion special. Though, come to think of it, that wouldn’t be too tame at all. Hmm. Something to think about.
5 out of 100.
Cewsh: Ian Rotten dares some kid in the crowd to chew a piece of gum he found stuck to the bottom of the ring canvas for two minutes. If he does it successfully, he gets free tickets to the Ted Petty Invitational. The young man agrees to this, and off he goes. Ian does everything he can, including conjuring up imaged of his own naked ass in order to get the kid to spit it out, but the young man is absolutely tenacious. He completes the challenge, and gets the tickets. Thank god.
Believe it or not, these are the most over two minutes of the entire show. The crowd loses their minds for the poor kind, starting no less than 10 separate chants in his favor. On one hand, its amusing to see this unfold. On the other hand, its hard to swallow that these guys are mutilating themselves for less reaction than this guy got for eating gum.
Vice: CAUSE I’M JUST A TEENAGE DIRTBAG BAAAAAAAABY!
Nate Webb! Webb is one of those guys I’ve always enjoyed. He just goes out and has a ton of fun. I know I just did a whole serious write-up about how that’s wrong and bad and why the promotion is terrible, but, Nate is the exception. He has a ton of passion. The dude just loves to entertain people, and entertains them he does.
He’s just so fun with his entrances. One time in CZW, he even pulled out a guitar and microphone, and sung his entrance theme (Wheatus – Teenage Dirtbag) on stage. No matter how dead the crowd is, he will get them on their feet and cheering. If you’ve never seen him before, you will still be on your feet and cheering. He’s great.
Oh yeah, and he can also wrestle pretty well too. His deathmatches are kinda so-so due to working with awful wrestlers 90% of the time, but he’s a great bumper and sells fantastically most of the time. When he’s doing straight-up wrestling matches, he’s very very competent and has had a bunch of matches I’ve enjoyed. I think I first saw him in 2004 or 2005, and he was awesome. Now it’s 2009 and I wish he was doing more than he is. It’s like, had he zigged instead of zagged at one point in his career, he could be so much more. Oh well. He’s needed in the indies, because someone has to be worth watching. He can also do a moonsault Van Terminator. That = win.
The match was decent and better than it had any right to be, but, you guessed it—it was because of Spyder Nate Webb. Entirely because of him. That’s all there is to it. However, I’m a bit miffed about the ending:
NATE’S LEG WAS UNDER THE ROPES. Fucking nonsense. :(
FUCK YOU REF.
Cewsh: Pondo is out first doing his “wacky hardcore guy” schtick where he bounces around and is generally a cheerful dude all around. The degree to which he always seems cheerful and buddy buddy with his opponents right before disfiguring them has always been a little disturbing honestly. I don’t generally get a kick out of throwing my friends onto a bed of nails. Then again, I’ve never really been given the option, so who knows how things would go?
Nate Webb is out second, going absolutely insane as he sings along to his own theme song, and plays air guitar on anything he can get his hands on. Board of nails? Check. Random fan’s leg? Check. Guitar with no strings that some fan brought to the show for no reason I can discern? Double check. He then hops into the ring, and the guys hi five and have some friendly conversation for a little while, causing me to wonder if this is a deathmatch, or a bake sale. Though, that said, I’d prefer to watch the bake sale.
The match starts and…man, I don’t even know. This comedy/deathmatch thing throws me every time. For Nate Webb to spin a stop sign on his fingers and hi five Pondo, only for him to throw Pondo onto some nails a moment later is a concept that is somehow troubling to me. Or the idea that Pondo would throw Webb onto a dolly and just wheel him around for fun, with Webb having a good ol’ time, and then, later, throwing the dolly at a bed of nails covering Webb full force. Its just weird, man. Then, while I’m trying to puzzle out my thoughts on this match, the announcing catches my attention, and it catches my attention with one phrase, which will likely haunt my thoughts for the rest of my life:
I can’t honestly decide which part of this was worse. That I now have to have an image in my head of a dick that has been shot off, or that I now have to spend the rest of the show trying to figure out why in the fuck he thought that that was a relevant fact to share during this match. Then, while I was pondering this, Mad Man Pondo put Webb’s neck in a chair, covered it with a stop sign, surrounded it by two more chairs, and then did a Swanton Bomb that was so bad, he actually went SIDEWAYS, and landed right on Webb’s head. This looked sufficiently brutal, but as it was nowhere near as brutal as GETTING YOUR DICK SHOT OFF, I’m afraid it made Webb, and everyone else on this show, look like a huge pussy.
9 out of 100.
Cewsh: DJ Hyde comes out and cuts a “look at me, I’m a heel!” promo, calling himself the greatest athlete alive today, which, by the looks of things, wouldn’t even be true if we were only counting professional bowlers. Then, out comes Corporal Robinson comes out, and I finally realize why he looks so familiar. See, as a joke once, I downloaded a JCW (Juggalo Championshit Wrestling, yes championSHIT) show, and just before I cried myself to sleep after trying to claw my eyes out, I was informed that this man is their biggest star and best wrestler. So he is endorsed by the Insane Clown Posse. The same Insane Clown Posse that I have hated and been mystified by the popularity of for a decade now.
If you are reading this, and somehow consider yourself to be a “Juggalo” then you have two choices. You can either stop reading now, or go elsewhere for your wrestling reviews, or you can close your eyes, and imagine me standing there next to you at your computer laughing uproariously and pointing at your ridiculousness. Juggalo. For fuck’s sake.
Then there’s announcing for this fiasco, which was done by none other than Egotistico Fantastico, likely for no other reason than to make me watch the match on mute, leaving me in a state of blissfull silence. Somehow, though, just the knowledge that he was talking made me angry, so I unmutted in, just in ttime to hear Ego Fan trying to convince his broadcast partner, that since he had his mask off, his name was actually John Fantastico, and he was Ego Fan’s brother.
As for the match? There was no match. They resolved their differences with words, shook hands, and went to Baskin Robbins. The end.
3 out of 100. They didn't share the ice cream.
Vice: I’d like to point out that in the ring, there are thumbtacks, a guitar, a bat covered in tacks and a Nintendo.
I would also like to point out that the black ref, who had previously reffed every other match but SCREWED NATE WEBB, has been replaced with a white ref. Hey now, I’m juuuust saaaaaayin’.
Oh Corporal Robinson. I don’t know what to think about him. Well, aside that he’s fucking awful. And all his gear is JCW shit. If you don’t know what JCW is, it’s Juggalo Championshit Wrestling. Or something stupid. Insane Clown Posse. Wait. I think I just saw that Robinson has a JCW tattoo on his arm. LOL.
I mean, yeah, I listened to ICP here and there (and by that, I mean very rarely) back when I was like 12. I didn’t like it at all, but it was different and somewhat entertaining when in the right mood. But again, I knew better when I was 12. Robinson is like 35. There is absolutely no excuse for that.
So, one of the big spots in this match is Robinson putting a Playstation 2 over the other guy’s nuts and thwacking it with a Rock Band guitar. I hate to be a dick, but Playstation 2 is still a decent system and should not be punished in such a way.
Another lovely spot is when the other guy PULLS OUT A MACHETE and takes it to Robinson’s face. Oh, but here’s the absolute best part: it’s covered in THUMB TACKS! And he uses the thumbtack part of it! THINK OF THE LOGIC.
The Nintendo comes into play as it is smacked repeatedly over the other guy’s forehead a number of times. The commentators assure us that they checked it out before the match and it was already broken, so that makes me feel slightly better inside, but I’m still upset that a fucking NINTENDO of all things made it into an IWA ring.
Spoiler: one of the two wins in an awful match.
Oh yeah, and Corporal Robinson even has a little Juggalo hatchet man tattoo thing on his arm.
Cewsh: Alright, this is sort of an interesting thing, but Tank actually looks vaguely like Vice, and Masada actually looks vaguely like me. In fact this match basically resembles Vice and I having a deathmatch 10 years (and a lot of cheeseburgers) from now. If you need more for reference, Tank looks like he ate Bam Bam Bigelow, and Masada looks like the last guy who sold you weed outside of Burger King. Come to think of it, those aren’t very flattering descriptions of people who look like us. So actually, Tank looks like Viggo Mortensen with a ruggedly sexy beard, and I look like the combination of Brad Pitt and George Clooney that your mother, sisters, aunts, and girlfriend sigh wistfully imagining. Yeah, that’s better. Moving on…
Now that we have the dramatic introductions out of the way, let’s talk about the match he have here. If you aren’t aware, a Taipei Deathmatch involves having your hands and wrists taped, and then covered in GLASS. Yes, glass. This match was always a specialty of none other than Ian Rotten, and it always produced grisly results, even by ECW standards. Somehow, though, despite the fact that they both had GLASS TAPED TO THEIR HANDS, they both seemed to have eliminated punches from their repertoire, and instead seem to be concentrating entirely on the barbed wire aspect of this match.
They both keep falling in barbed wire, and in a disgusting moment, the barbed wire gets stuck in Masada’s ponytail and gets inside of his boot, causing a wound in his calf to start spurting blood around. Then some various other things happen, like Masada getting suplexed on a barbed wire ladder, and Masada being stupid enough to do a plancha to the barbed wire ladder, and then there’s some more decent brawling. Then we get to the finish.
Oh my god.
Masada grabs something from the corner that appears to be some kind of shish kabob skewers or chopsticks or something like that, and he goes over to Tank. Now, from my experience as a wrestling fan, I expect him to grind these across Tank’s forehead theatrically. You know, the traditional way to use sharp objects safely in wrestling matches. But that’s not what is in store for me tonight ladies and gentlemen, oh no. No, he takes these shish kabob skewers, and STICKS THEM INTO TANK’S SKULL.
You heard me right.
He shoves them so far into the top of Tank’s head that they actually stay there, lodged in his head as he moves around. 3 of them, looking like ghastly antenna, broadcasting the most gruesome image I’ve ever seen in a wrestling ring. Its not over there, though, because that’s not quite hardcore enough. Masada goes over to the corner, grabs a chair, and proceeds to BASH TANK DIRECTLY ON TOP OF THE SPIKES, driving them further into his head, and putting him down for the three count.
This sequence is, without a doubt, the most gruesome and insane thing I have ever seen happen in this wild world of professional wrestling. Pretty much everything before it seems pretty juvenile next to this act. Breaking bones is one things, breaking necks is one thing, but we’re talking about shoving a spike into someone’s head, and then risking pushing it into his brain. And for what? For 50 people in a high school gym to thing you’re a super badass in the not even semi-main event of a show nobody watches? How in the fuck is the next match supposed to follow this? How can they top what I just witnessed? You know they’re going to try now, and I’m sitting here praying that I don’t have to watch a human being get crippled tonight. Praying.
Then, after the bell rings and the match ends, Tank pops RIGHT BACK UP, to shake hands with Masada. There aren’t words for how stupid that is. He just got spikes driven into his brain, and he can’t even sell THAT for more than 3 seconds?! Fucking terrible, man. Just fucking terrible.
17 out of 100.
Vice: TANK. Tank is huge and has a big, thick beard. He has good hard hitting matches and plays the immovable motherfucker pretty well from what I’ve seen of him in the past. Kinda like a white Mark Henry, only indy-ized and obviously not as good.
Masada is generally terrible, but not TOO terrible. The intro to his theme music is Vince McMahon yelling “Life SUCKS… and then you DIE!”. So, erm, yeah. Masada had a fairly long stint in ROH from what I can remember, but he’s just so forgettable. In terms of crappy deathmatch wrestlers though, he’s physically one of the better ones I’d say. He can roll and dive and actually do moves and stuff. So while he isn’t very good, his matches at least have a different flavor to them.
The black ref is back. So, apparently the white ref threw the towel in. There are two GIANT boards set in up two of the corners that are covered in barbed wire. Yes, more barbed wire. The bigger problem, however, is that the boards are so big that a bunch of fans simply cannot see what’s going on in the match. When you factor angles in, 1/6 of the crowd or so are scratching their heads right now. Sure they could probably move to see what’s going on, but when you think about it, would you move to see this action?
The match is surprisingly violent and disgusting, and I started cringing when Masada started literally shoving skewers into Tank’s head. Yeah, they were just sticking out of his head. Totally disgusting. To make things even uglier, he then takes a steel chair and whacks Tank in the brain. Fuuuuck. Looked insanely painful. But you’ve got to wonder. They have broken glass glued to their fists and yet, only like one or two punches were thrown. Instead of weapons, the glass just seemed like an inconvenience, getting caught on clothes and such.
But of course, Tank is up and walking around 30 seconds later to give Masada a handshake. That’s a big problem with indy shows, especially tournaments like this one. They simply don’t sell injuries and grueling matches. There’s so much wrestling going on that the second a match ends, it needs to immediately move on to the next match. It’s awful. They needed to have Tank lay there for two or three minutes to sell the brutality. ‘Cause really, if he gets up 20 seconds after a chair whacks some skewers into his brain, it doesn’t really show how powerful and dangerous that all was. OH HEY MATCH IS OVER OK BYE. And really, it’s been like that with every match so far. And there is far too much respect and putting others over so far. I swear every match has either ended in a handshake or a promo putting the other person over, or raising the other person’s arm or something. It’s a deathmatch—why the fucking handshakes?
Post-match, Masada shows off some of his disgusting battle damage. Tank cuts a serious promo, covered in blood, but it’s hard to take him seriously—he still has two skewers in his head and they look like little antennae. It’s rather cute.
Cewsh: God, I am getting so tired of describing people who look like un-employed auto mechanics. I mean really, Nick Gage comes out looking like the guy who probably won “Most likely to call a cardboard box home” in his high school yearbook, and Thumbtack Jack looks like he won “Most likely to be mistaken for an drag queen.” Jack also has some kind of enormous bandage covering his nose for no reason that I can discern, and certainly for no reason that is explained.
Now this match deserves a great deal of credit, in reality, because these are the first two people in this entire tournament who actually seem to wish each other harm before the match starts. You know, for a show where every match contains, conceivably, mortal peril, everyone seems to be pretty goddamn nonchalant about the whole thing. It just reveals another problem with independent wrestling. Everyone has to be a badass. You know what would be an interesting thing to see in one of these matches? Someone who DOESN’T want to bleed, or be thrown into barbed wire. That way, if he was a heel, I could root for him to get his ass beaten for his cowardice or something, and if he was a face, I could get behind his attempts to avoid it.
Every single one of these guys seems to be having the time of his life getting maimed in there, so why should I give a shit about anything that happens? They’re just doing moves with no emotion, and with no personality, and there’s no rhyme or reason behind anything. So I’m sitting here, watching men get mutilated and ripped apart by barbed wire and everything else, and I simply can’t even muster any interest in it, because it doesn’t mean anything.
One chairshot delivered to someone who doesn’t want to be hit, will always be more effective than a man who doesn’t mind getting thrown into barbed wire.
This match went almost 20 minutes, and there wasn’t a single notable moment of it. They hit barbed wire? Yawn. Something with fish hooks? Ho hum. They crippled each other? At this point, I think they’d almost be doing themselves a favor.
5 out of 100.
Vice: Thumbtack Jack is funny. He cuts ridiculous promos because he’s foreign and they sound really funny. Plus, he’s pretty crazy. He also comes out wearing a headband around his nose. Why, I don’t know. Is that badass these days?
So, this is a barbed wire rope match. An actual one. Not one of those moronic ones where they keep the usual ropes but sprinkle barbed wire here and there and think “man that’s fucking hardcore!”. This one actually has no ropes. Just barbed wire. So while this match will probably suck, at least they’re doing it right. That’s always a plus. Oh yeah, and this match also contains fishhooks or something.
In one spot, Gage puts a fishhook in Jack’s forehead and then rips it out. There’s a little wound and he starts to bleed a bit. So naturally, the first thing that came to mind was “this guy needs to do a blade job!”, and yes he does. In fact, the cameraman actually zooms in as Jack starts unwrapping some of his wrist tape and pulls a blade out! Then the cameraman realizes he just accidentally fucked up big time, so he pans over to Gage for a few seconds. Then he pans back to Jack just in time to see him actually, well, blading. Then he Jack puts the blade down, and flicks his hair back in a Maryse like fashion (which is partially true because he is foreign, and all foreign people flick their hair back), and he reveals.. twice as much blood as before! And a second wound that came out of nowhere! I mean, the fishhook wound was a vertical slice, and now he has a horizontal one right next to it. OH THE BRUTALITY!
Seriously, why was this the camera angle they used in the final edit? During the replays, they have like 3 different camera angles for everything, so it’s not like they only have one camera. If one cameraman catches something that blatantly exposes the business and/or something retarded in general, you’d think they would want to hide that and use a different camera angle. But no. The commentators may as well have pointed out that Thumbtack Jack pulled a razor out of his wrist tape and did a blade job.
And then like two minutes later, we have a fantastic sequence of events. See, the ref has a pair of scissors designed for cutting the barbed wire. He has them so he can untangle people so that 1) it’s more humane, and 2) the match can go on. Well, Jack looks to the ref and is like “can I have your scissors?” and the ref just politely hands him to them. Naturally, Jack uses them as a weapon. And like with last time, immediately afterwards you can see Gage going into the wrist tape for a blade. But thankfully, the cameraman turns his camera in time to not catch the blade actually coming out, and instead we see Jack cutting down the barbed wire ropes. Why, I don’t know. The camera turns back to Gage, and guess what he’s doing? Yep, he’s still working on getting that blade out. It appears as if he gets it out just as Jack kicks him out of the ring. Now Gage does not appear to know where his blade is. That really sucks, because it took him 30 seconds to get the damn thing out of his wrist tape, and, well, he needs to do a bladejob. He does a quick look for it, but comes up short.
So, in a very awkward moment, he goes halfway under the ring apron like a lot of people tend to do for blade jobs. But, here is the problem: he didn’t blade! Ever the quick thinker that Thumbtack Jack is, he headbutts Gage with his own blade job and now Gage’s forehead is covered in blood! WHAT A MATCH!
We find out why Jack was cutting down some of the barbed wire with the scissors. He does a suicide dive. He lands on top of Gage, and they check to see if they’re alright. Instead of just asking, or doing something that makes sense, Gage pats Jack on the head and fluffs his hair, and Jack scratches Gage’s belly. At least they are okay. The dive was pretty sick because since there was still barbed wire that Jack had to dive through, he didn’t entirely clear it. A fairly respectable chunk of his long hair actually got ripped out of his head as he went through and is left dangling from the wire.
Anyway, the match becomes relatively brutal in an indy barbed wire match sort of way. Better than it should have been for sure, though. Afterwards, the crowd actually gets into it and cheers and chants. What the fuck. I’m genuinely impressed by that. I’m serious! And then backstage, Thumbtack Jack cuts one of his awesome ridiculous promos. WOO WOOOOOOOOOO WOO-WOO-WOO-WOO-WOOOOOOOO! Zat ist vat zey zay, ja?
Vice: Bull Paaaaaaaaaaaaaaain, motherfuckers. And he’s over, yo. Probably for good reason, because he’s pretty entertaining for the most part. At least from what I’ve seen of him.
Necro Butcher is Necro Butcher, and generally you’ll either love him or hate him. Some people think he’s not even a wrestler, and one person even thought he might be the greatest wrestler of this decade.
Yeah, that was my reaction too.
Anyway, the match kicks off right as Necro Butcher comes out and they battle throughout the crowd. Before the ring announcer even finishes the introductions, Necro has already bladed the utter bijesus out of his forehead and is bleeding like a stuck pig. Like, thick blood that’s dripping all over the place like a fucking faucet. Seriously. Within 20 seconds in went from nothing to EPIC. Only not, but whatever. The match is basically just a typical brawl with Necro bleeding EVERYWHERE. If it had a hot crowd and Necro waited a few minutes before blading, it might not have actually been a bad match. But the way everything was set up, it really didn’t have any flow to it.
I was also disappointed by the lack of spiders and webs. I mean, it said Caribbean Spider Web in the name, so maybe there would be some spiders on that web. Obviously I wasn’t imagining they’d bring in an actual Caribbean spider web chock full of spiders, but I was a little disappointed that it was basically just barbed wire loosely wrapped around an upside down table. Lame.
The finish is pretty retarded as well, despite also being clever. Bull Pain suplexes Necro Butcher through the “spider web” and into the broken glass and lands on top of him. While Necro is stuck there, he chokes Bull Pain out for the win. That’s clever. He was stuck and took advantage. But Necro chokes him out with Bull’s shirt/necklace.. and Bull had both hands free. And he landed on top of Necro, who landed on top of everything. So why can he not move his arms to punch Necro or do SOMETHING? Why is he that hurt? And Necro really should have used some barbed wire. Good idea, but executed poorly. Bull’s arm goes down three times, so he’s unconscious. And naturally, he’s back up 20 seconds later and beating up the black referee. So, fuck all of that. Bull Pain beats up the black ref and leaves all huffy and puffy.
Cewsh: Oh goody! Your main event of the evening! Are you excited?! I’m excited! Let’s be excited together!
Bull Pain comes out first, and he looks like he’s trying to look like Scott Steiner and Goldberg mashed up circa WCW so hard that its coming out of his roided up ears. Necro Butcher is, of course, Necro Butcher, so he looks like the biggest hippy in West Virginia. Tonight, these two men will be engaging in….something…called a Caribbean Spider Web Deathmatch. What is a Caribbean Spider Web Deathmatch? Good question, let’s examine the concept.
See, you take your average ring. Then you take the ropes away, because it would be silly to have those. Then you take a table and turn it over, and in between the legs you dump a shitton of broken glass. Still with me? Then you wrap everything in barbed wire so that it looks vaguely like a spider web.
Now with that said, the first 10 minutes of this match are spent brawling outside of the ring. You might be wondering how that takes advantage of the gimmick, and your answer would be that it doesn’t even remotely bother. In fact, you don’t even get a camera shot of the “Caribbean Spider” aspect of the match until the last minute and a half of the match. So they’re brawling, and brawling, and brawling, and brawling, and brawling, and brawling. Did I mentioned they brawled? Then they brawled some more. Then they stopped for tea. Then they brawled some some.
Then they briefly stopped brawling and got into the ring, and then immediately both fell into the barbed wire and glass table apparatus. They both laid very still for about a minute, and then the referee announced that Necro Butcher had beaten Bull Pain by submission. Despite the fact that Butcher had moved neither his arms or legs. Bull Pain then hops up, DDTs the ref, and leaves, while the ringside crew try to pick the barbed wire out of Necro Butcher’s hair.
It sounds exactly as strange as it was.
This was the main event? Seriously?
1 out of 100.
Cewsh: Shit, what is there to conclude? This show sucks. If you watch it, you seriously might as well throw it in the garbage and spend 3 hours punching yourself in the balls while listens to Pee Wee Herman sing “Tequila”, because that would be a more pleasant experience overall then this could ever be. Spare yourself, your children, your pets, and anyone else who might happen to pass by your house and hear the commentary for even the briefest moment, and do not watch this show. Don’t even think about this show. In fact, hit yourself in the head with a hammer until you’ve forgotten what you’ve read here today.
And then give Ian Rotten a call. I hear he’s hiring people to do just that.
Vice: Overall, night one was pretty lousy I’d say. Just your typical death match type stuff. The problem is that almost everything is so similar. Same bumps, same spots, same weapons, same everything. Every match is a remix of another for the most part. It’s the same sort of shit that TNA’s Lockdown PPV gets, because “it’s the same thing” since every match is in a cage. But I’d like to call bullshit on that. If I may go into a mini-rant, the use of the cage is generally booked very well throughout the night. For high-flying matches, it’s something that can be climbed and jumped off of. For hate-filled brawls, it’s a weapon. For other matches it shows no escape. And not everyone does the same thing throughout the night. This stuff is the same stuff all the time, and thus becomes very tiring very quickly.
And this is just night one, baby. Rock the fuck on.
That’ll wrap up Night 1 for us ladies and gentlemen, we hope you enjoyed it. Now before you complain about not getting Night 2, or any awards, or a video, or even a final score, those will all (well most of them), be coming to a Cewsh Reviews thread near you later this week. What? You thought we’d deliver all this awesome to you in one dose? You couldn’t handle it, kiddos. You want us on that snark. You NEED us on that snark. YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE SNARK.
Until then, we bid you adieu. So keep reading, and remember to be good to one another.