Monday, January 31, 2011

Platinum Championship Wrestling 1/27/2011

I went to a whole lot of effort to make it out to last Thursday’s PCW show and it was well worth it. Mrs. Troublemaker might not agree, but I thought it was a great show. There wasn’t any one draw like the previous Street Fight or Steel Cage Match of Doom, but almost every match was a good to great one.

Angry Matt was – as always – our designated driver, fo which we will be eternally grateful. The night also marked the triumphant return of my brother, Dios De Pobre.
Pobre has spent the last three years resisting the attempted subjugation of the Imperial Federal Government. He emerged changed but not defeated, I’m glad to say. JTW was absent due to work. He will also miss the Rumble on Sunday, which is a damned shame because that is the only WWE Pay-Per-View that is almost certain to entertain every time.
Despite having to navigate some of the more dangerous thoroughfares of accursed Downtown Atlanta after picking up Pobre we managed to arrive at The Masquerade on time. The place wasn’t nearly as packed as December’s show, which was surprising given the inter-promotional shenanigans scheduled for the show. We got a table in the front section and settled in.
I have been wanting to record PCW’s… memorable… theme song since the first show back in October but haven’t for one reason or another. Until Now:

That opening is just gold… no. It’s Platinum.
So anyway. Our first scheduled match was Bananas Sinclair versus Crazee Ted. Apparently Crazee Ted turned heel since the last show, because she ran out and beat the living shit out of Bananas before the girl’s music even stopped playing.
Bananas managed to make a comeback utilizing some clever ass-based offense, but Crazee Ted turned the tables with some dirty pool; throwing Bananas out of the ring and then smashing her face into the turnbuckle post about eighty times. I think it would have been more effective (and smarter) if Crazee Ted had taken her hand off of Bananas’ forehead before she did it, but whatever. Eventually referee Tut Stooperson claimed Bananas was BUSTED WIDE OPEN and called an end to the match. Crazee Ted called bullshit and claimed there wasn’t any blood, but I couldn’t tell is was dark in there and Bananas Sinclair doesn’t exactly have Ric Flair’s complexion. Crazee Ted said that was just damn fine, but she and Bananas were going to be having a First Blood match next month, right here at The Masquerade! Gross!
Remember last month when I had to pause in the midst of my recap to mention how the announcers really add to the quality of PCW’s shows? And how PCW Chief Executive General Chairman Chill Phil and Justin Tolerable are both better than an indie wrestling company really need? Well, Chill Phil was there Thursday, but he was joined by Sweet Freddy Tweedle. Sweet Freddy’s gimmick is apparently that he is a shitty announcer. His voice rarely rose above “almost audible” and he was as good at calling matches as I am at being a duck. Granted, this was still an improvement over former WCW announcer Mark Madden, but that’s like saying being punched in the balls is better than being kicked in the balls. Sweet Freddy was so bad that the PCW locker room sent Chip Day and Shane Marx out at various times just to make sure he didn’t call a suplex a Boston Crab.
Match #2 was actually kind of a hum-dinger. Jason “The Jar” Mason took on “Do or Die” Chip Day in a match to see if I can call angles or not. Turns out I can’t.
The Jar” was accompanied to the ring by a giant black man that I’m pretty sure was Boo-Boo, but I couldn’t tell because he had a mask on.
Chip Day made his way out to what I’m pretty sure was new entrance music. The match was very good – better than wither had the month before. Not that those were bad, but this one was fairly action-packed and told a good story, of “The Jar” setting Day up for his ridiculous choke-out finisher; with Day’s speed and agility allowing him to avoid it. The match ended with “The Jar” hanging upside-down from the top turnbuckle. Chip Day was up top and decided to just murder the guy by jumping up and landing full-force on Mason’s face with his knees, driving him to the mat. With Jason “The Jar” Mason thusly vanquished, Chip Day won the match. And Boo-Boo wept.
Where my inability to call angles comes in is that I was positive after last month that Day was going to do a “Losing Streak” angle. It seemed that a big deal was made of his loss last time and I’m pretty sure he left defeated the previous match. Remember, if you will, last month’s “Agony of Defeat” photo:
But I guess PCW is just full of surprises because last month’s #1 Contender ended up being this month’s roadkill. We’ll miss you, “The Jar”.
The third match pitted Coco Lutz against PCW newcomer Topher Grace. Lutz always impresses, as he’s one of those guys that looks big and powerful but moves quickly.
Shortly after the former That 70’s Show star made his entrance one of the humanoids in the audience shouted, “Hea luks lahk Jaysus!”. Mr. Grace – trained actor that he is – was able to convey with a single contemptuous facial expression this concept:
That doesn’t make any sense. First, because I don’t have the long hair traditionally associated with Anglo depictions of Christ. Second, because Anglo depictions of Christ are inaccurate anyway; Christ would have been dark-skinned. And third, it’s not like I’m wearing robes or anything.”
It was amazing that Mr. Grace got that across with one look, but even more amazing because it’s pretty much exactly what I was thinking.
This match was a legitimately great match. Lutz and Grace had a very good chemistry and I think the only real botch was when Grace tried for a clothesline off the middle rope and Lutz didn’t sell it right. The match was full of action until Lutz finally managed to lock Grace into his patented Lutz Lock, which is like a Brock Lock except he sits on your shoulders while he does it. I wish I had a picture, but I was too busy yelling to take one.
After the match – Respect!:
And then Seanbaby came out with his tag team flunkies CM Dollars to drop some knowledge on our dumb asses.
Seanbaby: “Alright…”
CM Flunk: “This is such bullshit! How many times do we have to fight the Washington Bullets? Why can’t we fight The Exotic Ones or the Konkrete Gorillaz? Seanbaby – I think you might be a shitty manager!”
Dollar William: “Yeah!”
Seanbaby: “Now, calm down guys. For all you know your match isn’t even against the Bullets toni…”
Theme music hit. Since nobody seemed to recognize it, I assumed it was Jon Silver and “Virgin” Trey Purple. I was right.
In the interest of seeming more exciting than they really are, the Bullets were doing impersonations a la Jay Lethal. “Virgin” Trey was pretending he was Booker T and Jon Silver was doing an impersonation of a floating guy with no legs. To be honest, that one was pretty impressive.
Trey: “I pity the sucka that brings those yaks to the ring, if you smell what the bottom line is!”
Jon: “Man, you just mixed up, like, four different guys.”
Trey: “Enough is enough and it’s clobberin’ time!”
Jon: “Whatever.”
The match starts, much to the chagrin of Seanbaby’s team, and CM Dollars have the advantage to start. Then they make the mistake of attempting some leg-based offense on Jon Silver, who is so method he doesn’t even feel it. The Bullets utilize this mistake to take control. They dominate Dollar William for several minutes until “Virgin” Trey starts staring at his hand and CM Flunk is able to tag in and blindside him.
Eventually, though, Flunk gets distracted by the crowd and the Bullets gain control of Dollar William. And then all of a sudden, Crazee Ted and some guy in The Miz’ old shorts rush the ring! They join CM Dollars in beating down the Bullets, only relenting when Sugar Dunkerton (that’s his real ring name – I use it because I honestly couldn’t think up anything sillier than that) runs out to help the beaten and abused Bullets. Referee Willy Cornish calls for the bell and we wait for an explanation as Seanbaby’s new team poses outside the ring.
Unfortunately, they just leave.
Next up: The Platinum Championship Wrestling Middle Event!
In a war sure to decimate The Masquerade, Team PCW confronts the shiftless gadabouts of Team MGICWA (Georgia Intramural Championship Wrestling Alliance). Led by their… leader… Precious Bernie Cornflower, this looks like an entirely different group of people from the ones that attacked the PCW Champ last month.
Here are the toerags Middle Georgia Intramural Championship Wrestling Alliance chose to represent their brand, from left to right:
Curry Kid (who wrestled for PCW last month and seemed quite nice when I asked to get a picture with him), The Blue Weenie, Chris Flatus, MCP (or Most Communist, Please) and Mr. X; who was too slow to make it into this picture. You’ll recognize him later thanks to the “X” shaved into the side of his head. I think he did it to make all the mohawks in PCW seem less silly. Reverse psychological warfare, you know. Crafty.
Precious Bernie: “Hello, PCW losers!”
Crowd: “BOO!”
Precious Bernie: “I would’ve brought the hordes of MGICWA fans to back me up, but unfortunately they don’t exist. But on to business!”
Bernie turns to PCW Chief Executive General Chairman Chill Phil.
Precious Bernie: “Chill Phil. In the interest of the crowd’s interest, let’s make things interesting.”
Chill Phil: “Bring it motherfucker! Bring all y’all’s bitch-ass bithces! We’ll fight E’RYBODY! AAAAAAGGGGHH!”
Precious Bernie: “Oh my gosh. I was just gonna say that whoever won this tag match should get to pick the referee for tonight’s PCW Main Event, my MGICWA Replica Belt Champion Dill Snootles versus your PCW Main Title Champ Shane Marx. And that the winner will hold both titles!”
Chill Phil: “What do you say, Masquerade?”
Crowd: “Umm, that may not be the best idea…”
Chill Phil (to Precious Bernie): “It’s on like a pot of fuckin’ neckbone, son!”
Precious Bernie: “Geez…If you’re going to be such a dick about it, why not put a little something else on the line? If you win, I’ll come to your show tomorrow night and let your champ beat me up. BUT… when Team MGICWA wins, you have to take my ticket and go with my wife to see Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark next week!”
Crowd: “Oooooh!”
Chill Phil: “Fine, you monstrous deviant! You’re on!”
At this point the Konkrete Gorillaz made their way to the ring, soon followed by two of The Exotic Ones – Harvey (who seems to be their leader) and Sparkles. Meat Snack has been absent for a while and I’m honestly starting to worry.
Much to my disappointment, The Exotic Ones were barely in the match. I was all excited because I assumed the two PCW tag teams wouldn’t be able to get along and would end up fighting each other, losing the match for PCW. Instead, Huey and Louie dropped down off the apron when Dewey went for a tag and just walked back to the locker room.
The Exotic Ones kept trying to help Dewey out, but Team MGICWA kept him trapped in their corner. Eventually shit fell apart with The Exotic Ones getting beat down outside the ring and Dewey left inside to get pinned. Realizing what he now faced, Chill Phil immediately tried to strangle himself with his mic cord; thankfully Shane Marx had just finished yelling at Sweet Freddy Tweedle for calling an arm drag a “dipsy doodle” and was able to stop the stricken PCW official.
And we’re back! With Sugar Dunkerton returning to the ring to face… Miner Threat, accompanied by the lovely Stephanie McLayin’.
Remember that episode of The Simpsons where Bart walked toward Lisa while swinging his arms and said, “I’m going to walk towards you like this. If you get hit, it’s not my fault”? Well, Miner Threat has pretty much adopted that as his fighting style. That and no-selling. Sugar Dunkerton is a perfectly acceptable grappler, but there’s only so much one can do against the Unstoppable Wall of Suck known as Miner Threat. Eventually Miner Threat – in his first and only actual move – gave Sugar a sort of half-assed chokeslam out on the floor and the intrepid basketball player got counted out. And that was it. At the time it seemed pretty awful, but PCW followed it up with the only thing that could conceivably make such a turd seem tolerable in comparison: a Vagrant match.
Standing in for Archie Poo was The Phantom (a name I take exception to), who seems not too bad for a guy that comes to the ring in a Party City mask. And not even one of those good ones they have behind a counter. This is one fo those cheap-o skull ones with the hood on it. I think I got one in the discount bin for like 75 cents.
Last month a big deal was made out of PCW’s regular color commentator Justin Credible stepping up to manage Vagrant. I thought that was the reason we were saddled with the massively unskilled Sweet Freddy. But Vagrant emerged unaccompanied and went on to have as mediocre a match as I’ve seen since his last one. Well, that’s not true. The Phantom is definitely better than Archie Poo.
Since this is part of an unimaginably ill-conceived Best of Seven series involving Vagrant, it doesn’t matter who won. We’re going to be seeing more of this ass in the future.
And now it’s time for your
Platinum Championship Wrestling
Main Event
PCW Main Champion Shane Marx
MGICWA Replica Belt Champion Dill Snootles
First out was MGICWA’s chosen referee, Lil’ Pootie Blaylock. Angry Matt strongly suspected that Lil’ Pootie was actually Curry Kid, and I think I agree.
Dill Snootles hit the ring next, and this was when I noticed that the MGICWA title is actually a WWE Intercontinental Championship Replica Belt. With a sticker on it or something. I have to remark that Dill Snootles looked very menacing and impressive back in December. His head – if you can judge by such a thing – led me to believe he would have a lean, mean physique, built for avoiding and inflicting pain. Not so much:
And then there’s PCW’s Shane Marx, who – despite looking like your uncle who runs the used television store – is a legitimate badass that I would hate to have know I wrote such things about him.
This was another one of those matches that was good to the point that I was watching more than taking pictures. Also, you might have noticed some of the pictures above are of an even shittier quality than what I usually provide. That’s because I took a ton of pictures for toy reviews and then forgot to charge my camera before PCW, so I ended up using the “camera” on my cell phone.
So after a very solid match, Marx finally got Snootles down on the mat and hit one of the most amazing 450° splashes I have ever seen. I mean, look at the guy:
He doesn’t look like the guy that would have that move in his arsenal. And that’s not only one of the reasons that Shane Marx is so awesome, it’s also the reason he is now not only the PCW Main Champion but also the MGICWA Replica Belt Champion.
Once Dill Snootles recovered from his clubberin’ and realized what had happened he hit Lil’ Pootie Blaylock – who had no choice but to make the three count - with one of the meanest spinebusters I’ve ever seen from fifteen feet away.
Then he hit one on Doctor Knives for no good damn reason and I was really pissed that Marx didn’t do shit about it. That’s part of the motivation for the marshmallow comment. I mean, really? Some outsider brutalizes a lady affiliated with your company and you just squat there?
Anyway, Snootles paused outside the ring to do some yappin’ about how this ain’t over and then took his leave. Followed by the still-incapacitated Lil’ Pootie.
I thought the night was done, but then Coco Lutz hit the stage and called for a mic:
Coco: “Well, well, Mr. Shane Marx. Mr. PCW Champion. I’ve already got a replica Intercontinental Title, but I sure would like to have that PCW Main Title belt you’ve got draped over your shoulder. And I’ll have it! After beating Chip Day earlier tonight and whoever it was I beat two months ago, I’m pretty sure that makes me the Number One Contender!”
Marx: “What?”
Coco: “Yeah! So suck on that until next time we meet FOR GOOD!”
Marx: “What?”
And that was that.
We had originally planned to go see Nashville Pussy play downstairs once the wrestling was done, but Mrs. Troublemaker had been so bored by PCW (she’s awesome, but she’s still a chick) that she was ready to go and I don’t think Dios De Pobre and Angry Matt were all that into it in the first place.
That’s just fine, fuckers. I’ll have fun all by myself at NOFX tomorrow night. Check out more pictures on my Facebook page.

Until next time, stay creepy

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