KJP'S MEDIUM RARE RAW REPORT #40
Date: 07/24/95. Taping date: 07/24/95. Location: Louisville, Kentucky.
Hosts: Vince McMahon and Jerry Lawler
-- "revolutionary force" animation --
Last night, the Roadie couldn't sleep at all, no, no.... Not knowing
that he had unwittingly taken a page out of Tatanka's handbook and cost
his boss, Jeff Jarrett, the Intercontinental title. And so the title
returns to another waist with which it is quite familiar, that of the
Heartbreak Kid, Shawn Michaels.
-- titles --
And here comes our armor-clad love machine now, waltzing his way into
the arena. It doesn't seem to matter much why, until the timekeeper
rudely interjects with the bell by way of pointing out that Michaels is
not here to gloat, but in fact, to actually wrestle.
Shawn Michaels vs. Jimmy Delray (w/Cornette and Pritchard)
That's odd... that jobber has a manager and a partner in his corner. Oh
well, no matter. Meanwhile, Vince notes in passing that with the
acquisition of his title, Shawn Michaels has become a target, which is
a bit of a pity, as I had been hoping he'd become a Wal-Mart. At any
rate, Sid is said to be in the mood for some shopping. As for the
match, I'm not going to break my policy of glossing over the details of
squash matches, even though I might have heard of the squashee before.
Nevertheless, it is noted that Delray one-upped the Undertaker's
rope-walking gimmick, even though it came at the price of
ineffectiveness. In other news, Shawn's also on the 900 line with some
sort of in-depth interview, although they don't mention whether it's on
option six or not. McMahon complains about Delray's undulating
abdominals. In the end, Michaels' superkick hits Tom Pritchard by
mistake, but the HB Kid gets there in two and secures the win, after
which he goes nearly orgasmic while grasping his title belt, then gives
the part of the crowd facing the camera a gander at his gluteous
maximus. McMahon, oddly enough, doesn't understand what Lawler is
On to a review of Jarrett's musical performance. It looks pretty good,
although all might not be as it seems. Especially that owl over there.
McMahon remarks that Jarrett was booed after his performance, which is
true: his ring entrance, which followed a whole bunch of
Nashville-dissing by the Roadie, was most definitely after his musical
performance. And then of course the Roadie pulls a Tatanka, as we had
already seen. Later we see Doc Hendrix making frantic gestures in
front of an otherwise unremarkable door, yammering about some
dinnertime accident involving spilled beans or something like that. At
any rate, JJ's singing career appears to be over, among other things,
if the local rumor mill is anywhere near being on course.
-- ad break --
Four months ago: Bret Hart gets yet another award. Yawn. This
particular award, though, seems to rile a certain crew-cut wearing
Japanese wrestler with a thing for really small tattoos, who goes on to
screw the Hitman out of a match that technically had nothing to do with
him, but that's the way it goes sometimes.
The Smoking Gunns (w/seven-day waiting period) vs. John Faulkner and
Uh, oh, these jobbers are color-coordinated. Watch out! But the Gunns
sting like a butterfly and float like a bee (just ask Vince), so they
should be able to handle themselves. Meanwhile, the WWF, in its
continuing effort to make its presence known here on the 'Net, has
signed into an agreement with America On-Line. Oh, well, I guess
that's one we really couldn't expect them to get right. Is
"http://www.aol.com/~wwf/" in our future? Wait and see... Getting
back to wrestling, it's time to update our feud scorecards. The new
rivalries now include the Gunns against the Brothers Grunt. The Gunns
avoid prolonging matters with the Sidewinder.
McMahon's special guest at this time is... Barry Nemesisinski. To
answer the question on his shirt, yes, he sure ain't. Notably, if you
buy the shirt, the cassette of Jarrett's performance is essentially
free (can you say "closeout"?). Lawler gives his well-considered
-- ad break --
In other news, some character named Goldust is blowing into town.
"Aren't you the son of...?"
Fatu II -- The Cow Palace. Paid for by the Ad Council.
Waylon Mercy vs. Gary Scott
And for some reason Mercy brings up the topic of evolution and this
leads us to a documentary on Ahnold, and from there on to SummerSlam,
at the Igloo in Pittsburgh. SummerSlam in an Igloo, think about that.
Mercy with the sleeper. "I don't think we like him", says McMahon,
though I hesitate who he thinks he is speaking for.
-- promotional considerations --
Todd Pettengill with your *really* final In Your House report. But
first, Todd Pettengill with your first SummerSlam report. Or more
precisely, in the grand tradition of the Poulan/Weed Eater Independence
Bowl, it's Stridex SummerSlam. Back to IYH: The tag match. A
controversy with a three-count, and so NATO wants a rematch. We'll
see. For Shawn Michaels, there's good news and bad news. The good
news is, his match with JJ was out-and-out spectacular. The bad news,
he was also involved in the heavyweight title match. Sid decided his
loss was Michaels' fault, and wants, as usual, revenge. "I'll get you,
my pretty, and your little belt, too!" As if that weren't enough, Sid
is rumored to be waterproof as well. For Diesel's part, his defeat
would have been Mabel's fault, but Mabel, being the less effective of
the two main interlopers, gets the title shot. That's justice for you.
Over to the man who calls himself the number one contender (and who
will argue with him? Please put your hands down). In one magical
night, he went through three grueling rounds (note he said *rounds*,
not matches) to get that piece of tin plating he now wears on his head.
Now he condescends to offer the champ a match. Since this seems to
put Diesel in the role of challenger, I take it the King won't mind if
Diesel's meager possession, the WWF title, is not involved in the
matchup? Yeah, that's what I thought.
Hakushi (w/Shinja and plenty of Kleenex) vs.
-- ad break --
Hakushi (w/Shinja) vs. Bret Hart
Once again, prior to the Hitman's entrance, Shinja produces the burlap
bag, and Hakushi extracts that faux cranium from it. Thank you once
again for sharing that with us, Hakushi. I understand Hakushi is
working on a rather unusual ventriloquism act in his spare time...
We interrupt this column to ask this very important question regarding
next week's main event: Do Savio and Razor have what it takes to take
the tag titles from Owen and Yokozuna? The answer: no, of course not.
We now return to your regularly scheduled main event, already in
Enter the Excellence of Execution. Unfortunately, he has nothing to
top Hakushi's performance, so he just hands out his glasses and gets on
with it. But Shinja, as luck would have it, snags his cufflink on the
Hitman's boot as he re-enters the ring. As Hart gets back out in order
to untangle them, Hakushi starts the match by leaping out of an
alternate dimension to land a chop to the Hitman's back. Hakushi
pounds Hart from pillar to post, or actually post to post, then drops
him over the railing, which will incur a $20 fine, due to the local
ordinances. A series of stomps, chops, and a scoop and slam lead up to
Hakushi's first big move, a belly-flop flip right onto the Hitman's
raised knees. Bret's turn. Atomic drop, clothesline, turnbuckle
souffle, followed by a taste of top rope for dessert. Various blows,
leading up to a backbreaker. More general roughing, all pretty dull,
so Hakushi decides it falls to him to liven things up. When Bret tries
to give him a cross-corner whip, Hakushi not only reverses it, but
makes like Hideo Nomo and tosses a vicious sinker that not only drops
like a stone but totally misses all three turnbuckles, leaving the
projectile, Bret, to squarely impact the base of the post. On second
thought, that's a bit too lively. Let's take an
-- ad break --
Hakushi finally rescues Bret from his precarious location, gives him a
cross- corner whip (three inches), and follows it with a backflip,
handspring, and shoulder right into Hart's face. 9.4 from the judges.
The Hitman slumps down, Hakushi presses him with his foot into order to
make sure he stays there, then does a corner-based variation on the
Bossman sit. Hakushi plays to the crowd, finds they really don't want
to play, and so he gets back to work. For his next trick, he
clotheslines Bret, but holds on to his arm in order to pull him right
back up for another clothesline. This sort of gives new meaning to the
term "rope-a-dope". After about three cycles of this, the Hitman has
had quite enough, blocks, and gives both of them a back suplex
headache. Hakushi recovers first, with a savant kick. Then, Hakushi
whips him, but Hart reverses, and does a gut-wrench suplex.
Unfortunately, he turns Hakushi a bit too far, and the Japan native is
able to land on his feet. Your turn to try it, Hitman. Bret gives it
his best shot, but can only land partially on his feet, the rest of his
body landing horizontal on Hakushi's knee in a backbreaker. Cover for
2. Next, Hakushi does another cross-corner whip, and this time gets
the whole six inches. Hakushi positions him just so, climbs the
turnbuckles... and nails the flying headbutt. Fortunately, Hakushi is
no Bam Bam Bigelow, so Hart kicks out at 2. Hakushi with a snap
suplex, and then, the Japanese version of the reverse chinlock, the
nerve pinch. Bret is quickly out of that, comes off the ropes, jumps
behind his opponent, and starts pushing him in the direction of the
ropes. Hakushi, confronted with three openings between the ropes,
decides to take the lowest one. Hart, unfortunately, had the highest
one in mind. As a result, friction with the mat allows Hakushi to stop
short of exiting the ring, while Bret has no such luxury. Hakushi
ascends the turnbuckles to ponder his next action with regard to the
floor-lying Hitman. "Jump, jump, jump!" urges Jerry Lawler.
Meanwhile, on a ledge somewhere in New York City...
-- ad break --
Bret's still on the floor, which is just as well for him, as he gets a
great view of Hakushi's next move, a cartwheel into a backflip *over*
the ropes and landing on the Hitman. The judges have no choice, they
all pull out their "10" cards. But while we are watching the replay on
double feature, the turning point in the match occurs: Hart rises
first, slugs Hakushi, then takes his skull, and another convenient skull
belonging the Shinja, and attempts to fuse them together. He doesn't
quite succeed in that, but the effect is sufficient. For his next
trick, the Hitman climbs up two ropes high, then jumps back off, again
flattening both of his Oriental opponents. Selecting the one with more
body art and less clothing, Bret Hart rolls him into the ring, and does
the backbreaker the way he had meant to in the first place. Two ropes
up for an elbow drop and a two-count. Shinja crawls up on the apron
for a better look, and Hart decides that will be okay, as long as
Shinja stays right there. Hart borrows from his brother-in-law and
executes a bulldog for 2, then a small package for 2. Vince is starting
to wonder what it will take to put Hakushi away. I'll give only one
hint: it has three syllables, and starts with an 's'. Bret tries a
roundhouse. Wrong. Hakushi ducks, and hits a back suplex. Up to
the top rope in a jiffy, Hakushi tarries there a while, then leaps.
Liftoff! Re-entry! Ouch! The canvas really felt that. Hart takes
the fallen flier, sits him atop another turnbuckle; no, better yet,
stands with him on top of the top turnbuckle, for about a big a suplex
as you can get. And would you know, that leaves Hakushi laid out,
flat on his back, legs spread out, just begging to be locked into a...
that it, a Sharpshooter! Hakushi has nothing left to fight it off.
Bret holds it a few extra seconds, then releases it, not because the
referee was starting to get on his case, but because a certain annoyance
named Shinja was coming in at six o'clock high. Bret Hart decides to
unload Jerry Lawler's entire repertoire on the would-be mime: two
punches, a face rake, and the coup de grace, a piledriver. Vince
strongly hints, well, be honest, outright says that this will likely
be the last we see of Shinja for a long while, in order that he can
devote himself full time to being the judge at the O. J. Simpson
trial. It's a dark night in the land of the rising sun (though
technically, it's, what, about 2 p.m. JST as this match takes place?)
Ah, here we are, at long last, time for the run-in, and it's... not,
as we would likely expect, Isaac Yankem Doodle, but instead,
Jean-Pierre LaFitte, who is making off with the bag containing Hakushi's
Hart-head. Don't ask me what this is supposed to mean, I can't make,
well, you know, or tails of it either. Bret Hart clearly has no idea
what has happened, nor can I think of any reason why he should care if
he did, either.
-- promotional considerations --
"Your attention, class. Your attention! HEY BUELLER, WAKE UP!!!!"
And (mostly) thus, enter Dean Douglas, to banners reading "Sigma
Delta Omega", and "Avscvlta Mihi Tibi Dico". Despite this, he
seems to be quite comprehensible, as opposed to another know-it-all
whose presidential campaign seems to be on the skids as
of late. (Whatever happened to that Backlund/Rock feud, anyway?)
Knowledge. And with that Dean Douglas becomes Dean Webster, or
perhaps Dean Data, as he whips off five indistinguishable definitions
of the term. And he adds a six definition, himself. He is taking
it upon himself to grade the superstars of the WWF (ooh, can I help?).
He goes into something about the feeling everybody knows in their
stomach after they've cheated on a test... oh dear, he seems to have
a bit of an IRS complex as well. Needless to say, certain superstars
will not be advancing with their class this fall, starting with the
people who are in charge of the satellite feed...
-- ad break --
Next week: Mabel (currently a D, though slowly making up ground), the
Body Donnas (who looked sure to be a "Withdraw Failing" a couple of
weeks ago), and Bam Bam (the consummate B-student). And what about
the tag team championship match? What about it, indeed.
Over to Shawn Michaels quickly, before the picture breaks up entirely.
Oops, too late, but at least we maintain audio. Jerry Lawler draws
an interesting analogy, that three Intercontinental titles no more
makes a great wrestler than nine marriages makes a great husband.
There's a slight flaw there, but the point is made. Everyone's going
to be coming after Michaels, including Lawler, apparently, leaving
an image that Shawn is fascinated with for the remainder of the
-- Kevin J. Podsiadlik