This is Part 2. Still for my favorite Jericholic.
What if Chris Jericho’s WWF Title victory over Triple H hadn’t been reversed?
Our story continues the night after Backlash. For Triple H, Backlash was the first step in getting back on track towards regaining the WWF Title, first by beating Tazz, and then ruining Chris Jericho’s World Title defense against The Rock. A new number one contender is going to be named, and with his campaign against Jericho escalating, there is little doubt in Triple H’s mind he will be facing Jericho at Judgment Day …
May 1st
“Welcome to Raw is Jericho!” says the World Champ as Raw begins. Jericho soaks up the cheers, occasionally gesturing to the belt for some cheap heat. When the crowd noise tapers off, he continues. “Ya know, last night at Backlash, the Jericholics all around the world sat down around their TVs, or on the edge of their seats in the arena, and they all waited with baited breath to see me beat The Rock. But that never happened, and I’ll tell ya why: this big, greasy, whiny, Cro-Magnon gasbag came in and ruined my World Title defense.” Jericho clears his throat, dropping his mouth down in a comical snarl, and his voice into a caveman-esque growl, but with just a hint of whine. “Me Game-ah! Me big loser-ah! Want-ah belt-ah! Should-ah be fighting-ah Chris Jericho-ah!” The crowd’s hearty laughter gets cut off and melts into jeers as “No Chance In Hell” cues up. “That’s enough, Jericho,” says Vince as he comes down the ramp. “You’re just lucky I have jetlag, because otherwise I’d walk right over there and slap the taste out of your mouth!”
“Mister McMahon,” Jericho says, “I’ve been meaning to ask you: how disappointing is it to have such a greasy, whiny, Cro-Magnon man for a son-in-law? I mean, when you were holding your little girl, your precious little filthy, disgusting, dirty, skanky, brutal, bottom-feeding, trashbag ho in your arms when she was a baby, did you imagine she’d end up marrying a guy with the IQ of a sack of doorknobs?”
The fury in Vince rises so much, the cords in his neck look like steel cables that could hold up the Golden Gate Bridge. “Shut up!” he bellows, the words sounding like they came through a throat filled with gravel. “Shut up before I fire your ass!”
“No, no, I’m sorry, boss, I really am. I mean … I really do wonder, though: I noticed your daughter does that same load-in-the-pants duck waddle when she walks just like you do. Is that hereditary, cause you may wanna warn Triple H before-“
Vince’s face couldn’t be any redder if an artery was to explode and he was covered in blood. “SHUT THE HELL UP! JUST SHUT UP!” The crowd starts chanting “asshole”, and Vince barks at them to shut up as well; when they don’t, he tosses the mike aside with a guttural scream and starts to stomp away until he is interrupted by the music and arrival of Triple H and Stephanie. Unlike Vince, Triple H is smiling and walks as if he is floating. “Vince, don’t get yourself all worked up over that little chump,” he says. “Everything is under control.” He claps Vince on the shoulder and starts to ascend the stairs. “Cause, ya see, Chris Jericho, last night at Backlash, I proved a point. I proved to the world that I am a … no, the dominant force in the World Wrestling Federation. I proved to the world that I can eliminate anyone, at any time, any way I want. And I proved beyond a shadow of a doubt, Chris Jericho, that you are not championship material. I tore through you like a hot knife through butter, and I smacked around the so-called ‘People’s Champ’, The Rock.” The crowd lights up at the mere mention of his name, and starts chanting his name. Triple H lets them have their moment before moving on; “Chant all you want, folks, but Rocky isn’t here tonight. Rocky’s in the hospital, nursing a concussion from me almost decapitating him last night, and if it hadn’t been for Stone Cold Steve Austin-who isn’t here tonight either, so you can just shut the hell up right now-I woulda ended Rock’s career.” Triple H returns his glare to Chris Jericho. “And then, I woulda ended yours.”
“That’s pretty funny, Triple H,” says Jericho, “cause last time you and I were actually in a ring together, the only thing that ended was your WWF Championship reign!”
Triple H’s jaw clinches, but he chokes on the rage and the obvious desire to tear Jericho limb from limb. “Go ahead, sport, make your jokes,” he says, “cause I know, and you know, and all these people know that on your best day, you couldn’t get another pinfall on me, while on my worst day, I could beat you over and over and over.” Triple H strolls over to Vince and claps him on the shoulder. “So that got me thinking, guys; I had a nice little idea. How about, come Judgment Day, we put that to the test, huh? You and me, sport”-he points to the WWF Title, fastened around Jericho’s waist-“for that. I don’t think you’d have any objections, would you … dad?”
But before Jericho or Vince can answer, the raspy guitars of Chris Benoit’s theme music tune up, and the Intercontinental Champion steps out onto the ramp, microphone in hand. “I’m sitting in the back, and all I hear is about how Triple H knocking a couple people out with a sledgehammer makes him the number-one contender.” Benoit pats the belt a couple times and gazes at Triple H, a sadistic gleam in his eye. “This here says I’m the number-two man in the World Wrestling Federation, and at WrestleMania”-Benoit forks a finger in Jericho’s direction-“I pinned that man to win it. I’d say that makes me the number-one contender, and if you don’t like it, prove me wrong!“
Triple H looks up at the ramp wearing mock confusion. “Um, I’m confused … how is this any of your business? This little prick stole my belt, you sawed-off twit, not yours. You want a title shot, get in li-“
But his words are cut off by another piece of music, this time, the Olympiad-like tune of Kurt Angle. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a second!” he exclaims. “You mean to tell me that somehow, even though this guy”-he hikes a thumb in Benoit’s direction-“pinned someone else to take my Intercontinental Title at WrestleMania but couldn’t beat me, that somehow makes him the number-one contender? Sheeyeah! Like that makes any sense! I’m the former Euro-Continental Champion!” He holds up the medals around his neck. “Heck, I’m a freaking Olympic Gold Medalist! If anyone should be getting a shot at some revenge against Chris Jericho it should be m-“
Yet another music, this one belonging to European Champ Eddie Guerrero, drowns out Angle’s tirade. “Hey, holmes! You know what? I beat that guy in the ring, 1, 2, 3 for this”-he gestures to his title belt-“the WWF European Title. Why don’t that make Latino Heat the number-one contender?”
“Wait a second, hold on,” says Vince, “this is getting out of h-“
But the heartbeat intro of Tazz silences Vince, and the ECW Champion comes out to a rousing ovation. “You all wanna talk trash and act like big men,” says Tazz, “meanwhile, who walked into the ECW Arena, into the most extreme wrestling company there is, and won the ECW Championship? Who played Triple H, the self-proclaimed Game, and beat him at his own game, on Smackdown just a couple weeks ago? And who was it that beat Mister Euro-Continental Champion himself Kurt Angle in his debut match? The Human Wrecking Machine, Tazz! If there’s a number-one contender here, it’s gotta be me!”
“Whoa, hold on, hold on!” Vince bellows. “Next person to come out that curtain and start demanding a title shot is gonna find themselves standing in line for an unemployment check instead! My mind is made up, and Triple H-“
“Is a roody-poo candy ass!” says a familiar voice that sends the crowd into hysterics. Vince starts barking about how he warned everyone, but The Rock doesn’t come out; instead, he is on the TitanTron, sunglasses on, People’s Eyebrow arched. “The Rock doesn’t give a damn what that … what did you call Triple H, Chris?”
Jericho opens him mouth, then hesitates, knowing this is how The Rock sets people up for his “It doesn’t matter …” line. “Um, I think it was a big, greasy, whiny, Cro-Magnon gasbag,” says Jericho.
“Thank you. Anyway, The Rock doesn’t give a damn about that guy Chris Jericho is talking about … The Rock doesn’t give a second thought for the jabronis on stage, and as far as The Rock is concerned, you, Vince, can’t even make up your mind whether you’re gonna like a monkey’s anus or llama’s anus when you get up in the morning!” The crowd explodes and starts chanting for Rocky. He bathes in the attention, and continues when the chanting dies down. “Last night, the whole world saw Triple H stick his nose where it doesn’t belong, and screw over The Rock when The Rock was getting set to lay the smack down like only The Rock can! But The Rock ain’t gonna cry and moan, going; ‘It’s my time-ah! My belt-ah!‘ No, The Rock doesn’t make excuses, The Rock doesn’t sit there crying in his milk like a 4-year old. No, The Rock takes matters into his own hands … you know about taking matters into your hands, don’t you, Triple H? God knows, a gorilla like yourself and a wildebeest like Stephanie just don’t mate well.” The crowd laughs, but Rocky keeps right on going. “But you see, The Rock doesn’t care about you two disease-ridden monkies, or the jabronis on stage, or anything else except becoming WWF Champion. And that’s why The Rock paid a visit to someone today.” The camera pans back to reveal the office of Linda McMahon sitting behind a desk, looking as calm and dignified as ever … but, with the corners of her mouth just slightly turned up, also with a hint of smug satisfaction.
“Hello, Vince. Triple H. Chris Jericho. And to everyone else, I’m glad you’re all here.” Linda’s smug grin only increases. “You see, I’ve been reviewing the tapes of last night, and listening to what has been transpiring tonight, and I’ve come to a series of decisions. And while The Rock makes a very persuasive argument for his case, each person out there also has a very reasonable claim, and I can’t ignore that. Therefore, starting Thursday on Smackdown, we will have a sort-of mini-tournament that will decide the number one contender, the specifics of which will be described in detail on Smackdown. Tonight, however, we will get a little preview of the tournament, when Triple H teams with Kurt Angle and Chris Benoit to face Eddie Guerrero, Tazz and The Rock.”
Triple H fusses and fumes at his plans yet again being ruined, and by none other then, yet again, Linda. But there is nothing he can do, save go along with it, and when the time comes, he does as ordered, and participates in the six-man tag. From the get-go, the illusion of teams is barely even attempted, and the animosity and sense of competition amongst the future opponents is evident: tags are little more then cheaply disguised slaps, there is no teamwork whatsoever, and in the case of the Triple H/Angle/Benoit team, the egos involved drive them to break up their own pinfall attempts. It is only by sheer determination that the heels manage a victory, with Triple H getting the pin over Tazz thanks to assistance from Angle holding Tazz’s feet from the outside. But no sooner is the three-count made then Angle and Triple H in each other’s faces; Benoit insinuates himself in the argument, and within moments, the afterglow of victory is wiped out in the volcanic eruption of tempers, and Raw closes with the image of all six men locked in an uncontrollable brawl.
May 4th
A taped message from Linda opens Smackdown, laying down the format of the tournament. Three one-on-one matches will whittle down the number to 3; those 3 will meet on the following Raw in a triple threat match to determine the #1 contender. The pairings will be announced at match time, to keep any eager parties from eliminating their competition prior to the match and earning a bye.
The tournament starts right away, with Benoit taking on The Rock. Early on, Benoit tries to use his scientific knowledge to gain the edge, trying to weaken the arms of The Rock. But the size advantage of Rocky proves a bigger obstacle then Benoit is prepared for, and he wears down Benoit with his strength. Benoit’s counter to Rock’s strength lies in his experience edge over Rock, which he uses to exploit little mistakes and body part by body part wear down The Rock. When Benoit gets the Crossface locked on, the crowd comes out of their seats to rally for their hero, and Rock reaches the ropes to break the hold. But when Benoit tries for the swandive headbutt, Rock uses his second wind to catch him and plant Benoit with a Rock Bottom. He is too busy setting up The People’s Elbow to notice Shane McMahon come down to the ring and distract the referee. Rock finally notices the interference once he hits the elbow and starts to go for Shane, but he doesn’t see Triple H come from behind with a steel chair. Triple H levels The Rock and drapes Benoit over him, leaving with Shane so the ref can make the three-count.
The second match of the evening pits Guerrero against Angle (leaving the obvious, Tazz/Triple H, for later). Much to the chagrin of her husband, Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley accompanies Angle to, as she explains to Triple H, keep things fair, since Eddie has Chyna with her. But when Stephanie reaches in and holds on to Guerrero’s foot as he tries to climb the turnbuckle for a frog splash, her motives become clear, and Chyna springs into action, chasing the Women’s Champion around the ring and down the aisle. When Stephanie starts making tracks for the curtains, Chyna turns her attention back to the match, only for Stephanie to come up from behind and clobber Chyna in the back of the head with the Women’s Title belt. Seeing his “mamacita” get Pearl Harbored distracts Guerrero long enough for Angle to school-boy Guerrero with a handful of tights, getting Angle the three-count and advancing to the triple threat. Triple H comes stomping out after the decision, furious as all get-out; when Stephanie gives Angle a congratulatory hug, it only serves to deepen his rage. Triple H slides into the ring and shoves the two apart (not noticing Stephanie landing on her ass), then gets in Angle’s face and berates him. Angle’s only response is a cold stare; unsatisfied his tirade didn’t get him anywhere, Triple H drags Stephanie away by the wrist.
Before the Tazz/Triple H match can get underway, two men arrive on the scene and take seats at opposite corners: Chris Benoit and Kurt Angle; the eventual opponent for the winner, Chris Jericho, watches from the safety of the back. The presence of the two opponents for the winner of the match doesn’t even seem to register in the minds of the present combatants: the two pick up where Backlash left off, brawling and suplexing and hitting one another with as much hard-impact offense as they can muster. At separate points in the match, both Triple H and Tazz, after having gained an advantage, take a moment to harangue Angle from inside the ring; Angle barks back, making sure both times to show off his Olympic medals to back up his arguments (as if they were related). But after repeated tongue-lashings, Angle snaps and grabs Triple H’s ankle when he ventures near the ropes. Stephanie races out from the back to try and put a halt to anything, but Triple H leaves the ring and starts bumping chests with Angle, screaming at each other while Stephanie shrieks nearby for them to stop. The referee has no choice but to leave the ring and step in between the two, ejecting Angle and Stephanie. While the four of them argue, no one (save Chris Benoit and Tazz) notice The Rock race down to the ring and slide in, crouching like a waiting tiger, his eyes locked on the back of Triple H’s head. When Stephanie and Angle finally leave, the ref and Triple H start to enter the ring; Triple H freezes at the sight of The Rock, but only for a moment. He steps through the ropes with a fiery determination, hands clinched into tight balls, waiting for Rock to spring … only to be left slack-jawed when Rocky turns around and clocks Tazz. The ref signals to the timekeeper; Triple H’s paralysis only breaks not when he hears the bell or the ring announcer, but when Rocky, having left the ring, gives him the bird and mouths a very distinct “f*ck you too”. Triple H’s rage cannot be contained, and he takes it out on the first person he sees: the referee, who eats a wicked Pedigree. But before he can inflict further punishment, Tazz sneaks up from behind and slaps on the Tazzmission until Triple H is coughing and limp. The tableau is watched by The Rock … and, to his right, the eventual opponent for the winner of the triple threat, Chris Jericho.
May 8th
Adding insult to the already injured ego of Triple H is the news that, on Raw, not only will he have to sit witness as three other men (two of whom he despises with a passion) fight for the chance to face Chris Jericho at Judgment Day, but he is stuck in a mixed-tag match for the evening, pitting himself and Stephanie against Eddie Guerrero and Chyna. The fact that they are former friends and D-X compatriots is not lost on the audience or the commentators, but it is a memory conveniently discarded by Triple H, who treats Chyna exactly as she wants to: like one of the guys. The beating she receives is nothing less then what he would dish out to Guerrero or Angle or Rock, and when he helps dispatch Guerrero while his wife pins Chyna, it is a small (almost microscopic, really) ego boost after seemingly weeks of soul-crushing disappointment.
But the fact remains that, despite all his protests, demands and scheming-not to mention his inside connections with the McMahon family-he is still outside the fishbowl when the time comes to decide Jericho’s opponent for Judgment Day. Jericho sits ringside with the announcers to get a bird’s eye view of his future opponent, whoever it will be.
With so much riding on the line, all three men do not fail in putting everything they have and then some into attaining their goal. The technical prowess of Benoit, the deceptive strength of Tazz and the amateur skills of Angle collide like a head-on car accident, and while their respective strengths give each man a unique advantage, their tempers and desire all cancel each other out. Just when Angle thinks he has it won with an Angle Slam on Tazz, too much celebrating gets him caught in a Crossface from Benoit. Angle holds on as long as he can, for what seems an eternity, and is saved only by Tazz, who slips the Tazzmission on Benoit. But Angle shows his gratitude at living to continue the fight by breaking up the Tazzmission and hitting another Angle Slam. All the while, Jericho remains as calm as can be, never rooting for or against anyone: it doesn’t matter who it is, he tells Jim Ross, because when it the match goes past 10 minutes, and the fatigue starts to show, it looks as though the three men are too equally matched for anyone to come out on top. No one man can subdue both challengers long enough to get anything even resembling a pinfall or a submission attempt without the odd-man-out stepping in and breaking up the potential winning decision.
So when Triple H comes down at an almost leisurely pace with a grin about a mile wide, swinging a sledgehammer by his side like a pendulum, the crowd that the end may be potentially near, and quite possibly something unexpected. He stops at the end of the ramp, watching as Tazz is superplexed by both Angle and Benoit from the top rope, putting all three men on the mat, winded and wasted.
Triple H acts as if on cue, sliding in with the sledgehammer. The ref tries to step in the way, but Triple H pushes him away without any effort. Angle is the first to his feet, and Triple H puts him on his back again with a shot from the sledgehammer right between the eyes. Benoit is up next, and gets put back down with the same treatment. Instead of waiting for Tazz to get up, Triple H drags him up, dropping the sledgehammer and planting Tazz with a Pedigree. The ref has no choice but to call for the bell, sending the crowd into hysterics; but Triple H isn’t done. He picks up the sledgehammer again, driving it into the stomachs of the three prone men on the mat, over and over again while the timekeeper rings the bell repeatedly. Jericho throws his headphones aside, scooping up his chair and sliding into the ring behind Triple H. When he poses, as if victorious, in the middle of the ring, Jericho waffles him in the back, then hits a crisp Lionsault across the small of his back. Jericho leaves the carnage of the ring, holding up the belt with one hand and pointing to it with the other, reminding Triple H (as if he could hear Jericho from the ramp) who is the champion, and who is the chump.
May 11th
“No Chance In Hell” opens Smackdown, and Vince enters the ring, strutting and looking very pleased with himself. Every gesture he makes is in grand fashion, every word dripping with self-centered glee. “Tonight,” he starts off, “I, Vince McMahon, stand before you, not just as the Chairman of the World Wrestling Federation, but a certified genius.” The crowd boos, but Vince is unperturbed. “I know, I know, it’s hard for you to accept that not only am I more successful then any of you, or richer then any of you, but that I am smarter then each and every one of you. You see, after my son-in-law was screwed out of his rightful opportunity to face that smarmy little punk Chris Jericho for the WWF Title by The Rock, I had an epiphany. A revelation! A simple way to take back what is rightfully Triple H’s, and that is the WWF Title shot at Judgement Day, and that was to completely destroy the three participants in the triple threat match!” The crowd unleashes with another wave of jeers, but Vince is still unbothered. “Boo all you want; you’re just jealous you weren’t smart enough to see it coming. But you should’ve known that when Vince McMahon is backed into a corner, that’s when I’m at my most dangerous. When I’m put in a position where it seems all is lost, you should know by now to expect me to have a master plan! So, it is with great privilege that I present to you, the next World Wrestling Federation Champion … Triple H!”
But instead of “My Time”, the music of Chris Jericho comes on. Jericho saunters out, taking time every now and then to hold up the World Title, a visual poke in the eye to Vince. When he gets to the ring, Vince sees not only does Jericho have the belt, but tucked in the waistband of his tights is a piece of paper.
“You know something, Vince, you’re absolutely right. Without a doubt, you’re one of the smartest people on Earth. I mean, who else would be brilliant enough to send a psychopath after his own daughter? Who else would have the foresight to embrace the guy who ruined his daughter’s wedding by kidnapping her, drugging her and marrying her at a drive-through chapel? You’re some kind of genius there, Vinnie!”
Vince’s beaming pride is all but extinguished. “Listen, Jericho. I don’t know what in the hell you think you’re doing here-“
“Baby, I’m the WWF Champion! I’m your champion! I go whereeeeeeeee-ver I want!” The crowd lights up at that, but Jericho silences them with an upraised hand. “And right now, you and I, we got something to talk about. Namely, Judgment Day.”
“What’s there to talk about? You and Triple H, why you’re gonna have a little trade: he’s gonna hand you your ass, and you’re gonna hand him the WWF Title!”
Jericho shakes his head, a dopey, if confident, grin on his lips. “See, that’s where we have a problem, Vinnie-Mac.” Jericho whips out the paper and hands it to Vince. Vince hesitates, looking at it as though it may bite. “Go ahead, boss. Take it.” Vince reaches for it, timidly, only for Jericho to pull it away, then put it back again. Vince reaches again, and Jericho pulls it away again, chuckling.
“Just gimme the damn paper, you buffoon!” Vince bellows.
“Alright, sheesh! No need to shout, dude, I’m right here!” While Vince opens it and starts scanning, Jericho addresses the crowd. “See, I’m like you guys out there … I’m not as smart as Mr. McMahon, so allow me, your ever-so-humble World Champion, to cut to the chase. Mr. McMahon is holding a piece of paper from his lovely wife, Linda. It states that … and I’ll say this real slow, so all us stupid people get it …” Jericho gets right in Vince’s face, surprising the Chairman. “No … title … shot … for … Triple … H.” Vince’s eyes go as wide as truck tires; he scans the document, searching for both the statement that proclaims that, and the signature that makes it official. Jericho, however, doesn’t wait for Vince to find it; he snatches it out of Vince’s hand, turns to the second page and starts reading in a mock authoritative voice. “Ahem. ‘Because of Triple H’s interference that ruined the triple threat match to decide the #1 contender, there will be a rematch on Smackdown.'” The crowd explodes; Vince rants, screaming negatives over and over again. Jericho, however, ignores this and continues. “‘In addition; because the official was unable to maintain both control and the safety of the competitors, two additional measures will be taken to ensure that there will be a winner. Firstly, WWF Champion Chris Jericho’-that’s me-‘will act as the special guest referee. Secondly, should Triple H again attack the participants of this match and prevent a decision from being rendered, he will be suspended for six months.'”
Vince stands, jaw agape, staring from the paper to Jericho, as if he has been sucker-punched. “This can’t be …” he mutters, shaking his head, shuffling about the ring. “This …”
Jericho gives Vince a good-natured clap on the shoulder. “Sorry Linda isn’t here to tell you herself. She was a little busy. But she did have a message she wanted me to give you. I think it was: ‘Don’t cross the boss, Vince’.”
Vince, Triple H, Stephanie and Shane spend the night trying to contact Linda to get her to reconsider or reverse the ruling, but to no avail; she is unavailable, and her assistant tells them to call tomorrow. Triple H vents his frustration by using a sledgehammer to destroy the announce tables at ringside, and interrupts a match with the Hardy Boyz and Too Cool, beating up all four men.
When The Rock finally arrives and is told the information (via Kevin Kelly), he reacts with typical Rock candor. “You ask The Rock what his opinion is of the triple threat match happening again? You ask The Rock what his thoughts are about Triple H getting suspended if he interferes? Lemme ask you something, Kevin Kelly … what’s your opinion of Boris Yeltsin?” Kevin Kelly shakes his head in confusion; The Rock holds up a hand. “Hold on a minute, The Rock’s not done. How do you feel about relations between England and France? You’re probably too busy chasing your pet sheep all over the backyard, ya sick freak!” Rock tears the microphone out of Kevin Kelly’s hand and addresses the camera directly. “The Rock says this: The Rock doesn’t care about Triple H and whatever he blathers on about, and The Rock sure as hell doesn’t care what those three jabronis do tonight. They can all go suck a monkey’s nipple for all The Rock cares. There’s Chris Benoit …” Rock reaches in his pockets, pulls out a quarter and holds it up. “Here’s a quarter, Chris; go buy yourself a Chicklet to stick in that hole you got in your mouth. Or better yet, just shut your mouth. Then you got Kurt Angle; he likes to talk about how he’s been shafted and screwed … Kurt, if you were screwed half as much as you say you are, your name would be Stephanie McMahon! Kurt goes on and on about his shiny gold medals; well, The Rock has something shiny, too. A pair of shiny leather boots that’d make a nice fit right up your candy-ass! And as for Tazz … Tazz is always talking about how to mood is about to change. The Rock only has one mood, Tazz: and that’s the day-and-night desire to layeth the smacketh down! Because, you see, it doesn’t matter what Kurt Angle, or Chris Benoit, or this pervert Kevin Kelly has to say … the fact of the matter is that The Rock is on a mission, on a quest, on an unstoppable journey, and the destination, the goal is the WWF Championship. And it doesn’t matter if The Rock has to go through KYJ or Triple H-ah or anybody else, because The Rock will not stop, will not stop until he is WWF Champion once again, if ya smell-la-la-la-la-low … what The Rock … is cookin’!”
Chris Jericho’s presence in the triple threat match sets everyone on edge, changing the dynamic of the wrestlers. Still there is the reckless, bottomless abandon with which they had tapped into on Raw, but not without keeping an eye on their referee … the eventual opponent for one of the men. But Jericho stays out of the way, rarely even interjecting in potential disqualification situations; his only real interaction are making pinfall counts, which, as each is kicked out of by 2, come under protest for being too slow. Jericho takes every opportunity to remind the three of who’s wearing the striped shirt (although he isn’t wearing one). Benoit, Angle and Tazz quickly pick up on Jericho’s lackadaisical involvement, and start to take advantage; fighting outside the ring goes on, and the stairs, barricades and announce tables all get involved, while Jericho patiently watches.
Having broken the announce table, and beaten one another on every surface they can utilize, the fighters go back into the ring, now looking for pinfalls. Finishers are tossed off in a rapid pace, but before the third count can end the match, the other guy is right there to break up the count. Benoit and Angle team up and hit Tazz with a spike piledriver, putting him out, but the two fight over the pinfall until Benoit catches a Angle punch and turns it into the Crippler Crossface. Jericho checks on Angle, waiting to call the tap-out that will end the match … and so all his attention is focused on the fighters, not the crowd, where Triple H springs out of. He grabs a chair and slides in, swings and blasts Jericho in the back. Jericho falls forward onto Benoit and Angle, but Triple H lays into him with a few more chair shots before stepping away, a big, beaming smile on his face. Benoit gets to his feet and barks at Triple H, who drops down to the arena floor and starts backing up the ramp, shrugging in response and smiling the whole way. He never sees The Rock race down the ramp and clock him in the back of the head. Rock drags Triple H back in the ring and lets the three competitors all hit their finishers on him before tossing him out. But before there is even time to speculate about the match, Rock drops Benoit with a Rock Bottom. Angle charges, but Rock sidesteps and throws him into the turnbuckle chest-first; while Angle is dazed, Rock hits the Rock Bottom on Tazz, and is up on his feet in time to hit one on Angle too. Smackdown ends with Rock posing for the crowd, and behind him, five unconscious men.
May 15th
Raw opens with Vince, Triple H, Stephanie and Shane in the ring, all beaming with pride. “Last week on Raw, you all saw the true number one contender take out all those half-assed hacks,” says Triple H. “And then, last week on Smackdown, you saw me find another way to counter the conspiracy directed at me by Linda McMahon to prevent me from regaining my World Wrestling Federation Championship. How did I do it? By killing the special referee, Fluke Jericho!” Everyone enjoys a good laugh at that before Triple H continues, as serious as a heart-attack. “I have proven time and again that I am the dominant force in this business, that I am the measuring stick by which all these other wannabes should be compared to. But do I get the title shot, the title shot that I deserve, that I am owed? No, Linda McMahon sets up some ridiculous tournament and I get screwed again. Well, Linda, I figured out how to beat your little conspiracy, didn’t I? I just keep spoiling your matches, and I keep doing it over and over again … and I’m gonna keep doing that until I get my shot!”
Vince now takes a mike. “You see, Linda, there’s nothing you can do that we can’t outsmart you on. Face it, the wrestling business is in my family line, Linda … you’re just a McMahon by name, and you’re a woman, too. The McMahon men will always find a way to stay one step ahead of you. So, since there’s less then a week left to Judgment Day, you might as well just come out now and make the match official.”
Linda does come out, with Jericho alongside. Jericho and Triple H bark at each other across the arena, with Jericho reminding Triple H who the champion is by holding up the belt. “You’re right, Vince,” Linda says, stunning the crowd into silence. “Wrestling has been a part of the McMahon family dating back to your grandfather, Jess, and to your father, Vincent J. McMahon. But, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from you in the years of being married to you, it’s how to be ruthless and cunning. That’s why, going into the triple threat match last week on Smackdown, I had a back-up plan. I anticipated Triple H going after Chris Jericho when he acted as special referee; I didn’t anticipate The Rock coming out and doing what he did, but your plan was as predictable as they come, Vince. That’s why I took steps ahead of time to ensure the time I invested in the number-one contender’s tournament wasn’t wasted.”
Triple H pushes his way to the edge of the ring, leaning over the ropes. “And no doubt, that was to give the fans what they want and what I deserve, and that’s the chance to tear that chump limb from limb at Judgment Day!”
Linda shakes her head. “No, Triple H. I am not going to reward your behavior to thwart official WWF rulings and tournaments. Chris Jericho will defend his title, and because of your actions in spoiling not one but two honest attempts at determining a number-one contender, I have no choice but to order a Fatal Four-Way no-disqualification match between Chris Jericho, Kurt Angle, Tazz and Chris Benoit!” Jericho doesn’t look particularly thrilled, but his disappointment at having to go through three people instead of one pales in comparison to the rage coming from Triple H.
“You can’t do that!” Triple H screams. “I worked my ass off to get to the top of this company, and I’ll be damned if I let some stupid bitch like you take it all away! I want that match at Judgment Day, I deserve that match at Judgment Day!”
Very familiar music, coupled with the shrieking of girls, fills the arena, and the crowd comes alive at the sight of Shawn Michaels, the WWF Commissioner. Shawn struts and dances his way out onto the gangplank, shaking hands with Linda and Jericho before producing a microphone. “Oh, Triple H, old buddy, old pal,” says Shawn. “How could we forget about you? Oh, you’ll have a match at Judgment Day, old friend. But since you got such an itchy trigger-finger when it comes to matches, I, as the WWF Commissioner, have determined that any match that involves you needs a special referee to keep you contained. And who better to keep you contained then … hmm, oh, I don’t know … me?” Thunderous applause greets this (although none from the McMahon-Helsmley Faction), but Shawn waves it off. “And if you win your match, I promise you’ll get that shot at whoever the World Champion is”-he turns to Jericho and shrugs-“no offense, kid, at King Of The Ring on June 25th. But if you want that shot, if you”-Shawn makes quotation marks in the air-“‘deserve’ that shot, you’ll have to get through The Rock in a Last Man Standing match!”
May 21st: Judgment Day
Shawn comes out first, bouncing and skipping happily. But all humor drains from him, and the proceedings, when Triple H and The Rock are introduced. Shawn keeps the two men from charging one another until both men finish their pre-match intros. Shawn brings the two combatants to the center of the ring to explain the rules, but neither man so much as acknowledge Shawn’s presence; their eyes are fixed on each other, two old rivals merely waiting for the go-ahead to tear each other apart. When Shawn gives the signal for the timekeeper to ring the bell, the two men stay standing, staring at each other for a few silent, tension-filled moments; Triple H stands, seething, his hands clinching and loosening, like a tiger waiting to pounce on his prey. The Rock maintains a stoic, almost lifeless stance, with only the rage in his eyes betraying any semblance of life.
It is Triple H who breaks the calm with a right hand, but Rock blocks it and peppers Triple H’s jaw with rights, leading up to the trademark Rock Spit Punch. Triple H goes down and bails for the floor, but Rock follows with a baseball slide, sending Triple H into the barricade. Rocky drops Triple H chest-first on the barricade and follows it up with a whip, but Triple H reverses it and sends Rocky into the steps. Triple H rolls in and takes a breather as Rocky struggles to come back into the ring. When he gets in, Triple H greets him with a running knee lift, sending him tumbling through the ropes and back out onto the floor. Triple H returns the favor of the barricade hotshot on The Rock, and furthers the damage by throwing Rocky’s head backwards into the same barricade. Triple H slams Rock back-first into the apron repeatedly; he then backs off to allow Rock to stumble away, only to clobber Rock in the lower back with a forearm. This sets up a delayed overhead suplex, but Rock makes it to his feet at 5. Triple H slides into the ring and waits for Rocky to follow; he pounces before Rocky can even stand, dropping repeated elbows on the small of Rock’s back. With Rock down, Triple H removes turnbuckle covering of both the top and middle turnbuckles, and whips Rock into them with force. Rock collides with the corner like a freight train hitting a wall, and he falls on his face instantly. Triple H whips him into the corner again, and Rock crashes into the exposed steel and falls dead on the mat; Triple H lays in wait in the corner as the ref counts, but Rock pulls himself up with the ropes at 7. Triple H clamps on an abdominal stretch, and uses the benefit of no-DQ’s to use the ropes for additional leverage. The Rock suffers for almost a full minute before hip-tossing out of it. Triple H is back up on his feet almost instantly; Rock tries to whip him, but Triple H gets the reversal and ducks down. Rock sees it coming, floats over for the wrap-around DDT, but Triple H pushes him off, kicks him in the gut and gets a DDT of his own that draws another 7 count. Triple H pounces again, hitting a Russian legsweep and a backbreaker. Triple H picks up Rock in a bearhug and runs at the exposed corner, driving the small of the back into the high turnbuckle; The Rock is almost totally limp in Triple H’s arms when Triple H does it again, letting him go after a third. The Rock stumbles forward and collapses on the mat, but Triple H doesn’t wait for Shawn to start counting; he gets up on the second turnbuckle and flies, driving his elbow into The Rock’s back. When The Rock pulls himself up, Triple H goes into action again, whipping The Rock into the ropes; he hits a facebuster, then quickly slaps on a sleeper. With no ropes to grab to break the hold (and little strength to fight for it, were it an option), The Rock is stuck, and slumps to the mat, but beats Shawn’s count at 9. Triple H nails Rock on the jaw with a stiff clothesline, but Rock pulls himself up and dares Triple H to bring it; Triple H obliges with stiff punches that keep putting Rocky down, but every time, Rocky gets back up. Finally, a kick in the gut leads to a Pedigree; Triple H falls back in the corner and waits as Shawn counts … only for Rock to beat the count at 9 again. Triple H fumes and screams at Shawn to do his job, but Shawn ignores him. Triple H slides out and grabs a chair, then crouches, waiting for Rocky to get to his feet. When he does, he swings like a ballplayer, but Rocky drops to a knee; Triple H’s swing cuts through the air harmlessly, but Rock’s forearm shot to his groin is not harmless. The chair falls to the mat; Rock picks it up and succeeds where Triple H failed, nearly taking his head off in the process. Blood flows from Triple H’s forehead as he staggers up to his feet, but The Rock is ready; he drops the chair, kicks Triple H in the gut and hits a DDT on the chair. Shawn gets to 4 before Triple H manages to get to his knee, but Rocky is on him, throwing him into the exposed turnbuckle. When Triple H stumbles out of the corner, Rock scoops him up with a Samoan drop. Triple H bails, but Rocky follows him out and whips him into the stairs. Rock rips the protective barrier off the announcer’s table and grabs a monitor; when Triple H gets back to his feet, Rocky runs and crushes Triple H’s head. Shawn’s count gets to 7 before Triple H answers it. Rock throws Triple H back into the ring and whips him into the ropes; a spinebuster on the chair stills Triple H, but Rocky doesn’t wait for a count. He kicks Triple H’s arm and throws his elbow pad out into the crowd. He bounces off the first side, bounces off the second and holds up ten fingers as he stops to twist for The People’s Elbow … only for Shawn to blindside him with Sweet Chin Music. Shawn pulls Triple H aside, propping him up in the corner, and begins counting a lot faster then he did before. Rock still beats the count at 8, but Shawn has armed himself with the chair, and blasts Rock in the back; he goes down to his knees, screaming in pain. Triple H stumbles out of the corner, puts Rocky in position and hits a sloppy but effective Pedigree and falls back towards the corner. Shawn has no trouble getting to 10 this time, fast or slow. Shawn celebrates with Triple H, helping his friend back to the locker room.
With the shock of the WWF Commissioner once again being in the McMahon pocket, the outlook for Jericho looks all the more grim. With three tough opponents standing in his way, all of whom could pin one another and end Jericho’s title reign without him being involved in the match, and the prospect of an almost impenetrable authority bloc should he succeed, the stress of it all weighs obviously on Jericho’s shoulders as he comes out for his defense.
The four men immediately start brawling when the bell rings, with Jericho against Benoit and Tazz versus Angle. Jericho hits a dropkick, sending Benoit over and out, and Jericho gives chase, leaving Tazz and Angle, who start trying to outdo one another with chain wrestling. Jericho and Benoit continue their brawl while Angle and Tazz trade armbars, headlocks, hammerlocks and pinning combinations. After 10 consecutive near-falls, the two finally get back to a standing base and to a standing ovation. Benoit comes in and hits a German suplex on Tazz and bridges, but Angle breaks it up at two, only to get suplexed himself by Jericho for a two count. The two new pairs start slugging it out until Angle falls out of the ropes from a Jericho flying forearm shot, leaving Tazz and Jericho to double-team Benoit. Jericho and Tazz trade hitting him with suplexes and backbreaks, and even a double-team maneuver of a missle dropkick by Jericho into a German suplex by Tazz, but when Tazz bridges it for a pin, the alliance breaks and Jericho stomps on Tazz. The two start trading stiff chops; Jericho backs him into a corner, runs and hits a clothesline, but the follow-up bulldog is pushed off. Angle sneaks in behind Tazz and goes for the Angle Slam, but Tazz drops out behind and goes for the Tazzmission. Angle blocks it and turns it into a fireman’s carry takedown. Jericho tries to roll up Angle, but Benoit breaks the count at two with a chairshot. Angle gets up and eats chair, but Tazz ducks the swing and slaps on the Tazzmission. Benoit tries to fight it, but Tazz gets the leg-scissors and takes Benoit down to the mat where he can’t escape. The ref starts checking Benoit, but in between the second and third arm-checks, Jericho comes off the top rope with a moonsault, sandwiching Benoit between Jericho and Tazz, and Tazz between Jericho and the mat. Jericho covers Benoit (who falls off Tazz), but Angle interrupts the count at two. Angle pounds away on Jericho; when Jericho tries to counter with a clothesline, Angle slips behind him and hits the Angle Slam for two. Angle picks up Jericho to hit the Angle Slam again, but Tazz gets up, knocks Angle out of the ring and hits the Tazzmission. But before he can get the leg-scissors locked in, Benoit breaks the hold with a groin shot, and hits Jericho with the Crossface. Jericho tries to fight it, but Benoit locks it in, pulling him to the center of the ring to eliminate a rope-break. Jericho tries to roll backwards, turning it into a pinning predicament, but Benoit won’t let it happen. Only Angle keeps the match from ending, just before Jericho is about to tap. Angle goes for the Angle Slam again, but Benoit drops out of it, scoops Angle’s legs out from underneath him, and slaps on the Crossface. Angle rolls out of it into a pinning combination, but Tazz breaks it up and hits a belly-to-belly on Benoit that sends him across the ring. Angle gets up in time for a head-and-arm Tazzplex and a reverse Tiger suplex, but Jericho tries a roll-up that only gets two. A double-underhook backbreak gets Jericho another two, but the piledriver attempt is reversed into a back body drop. Benoit comes over and hits a DDT on Tazz, then a Northern Lights Suplex, but the bridge attempt only gets two. So fast is the action in the ring that no one notices, save the announcers (and part of the crowd) the exhausted, sweaty figure walking down to ringside, sledgehammer in hand. Triple H stops at the end of the aisle, breathing heavily, waiting and watching. With all four men down, he slowly approaches the ring and hops up on the apron.
Suddenly, the lights die, and the music of Kid Rock fills the arena. A loud rumble, the rumble of a motorcycle-no, a hog-booms from the backstage, and The Undertaker comes bursting through, like a Horsemen Of The Apocalypse, riding down on the ring. Triple H freezes like a deer in headlights as the visage of the leather-clad, trenchcoat-wearing Undertaker bears down upon him, music and engine blaring. Undertaker stops the bike at the end of the aisle, dismounts and casts his gaze directly at Triple H. Triple H’s paralysis finally breaks and he tries to get in the ring, but Undertaker grabs his ankle and pulls him down. Undertaker clocks Triple H, putting him on his ass, and Undertaker grabs the dropped sledgehammer. Undertaker swings, but Triple H rolls out of the way, gets to his feet and runs away. Undertaker starts to go after him, but Angle rolls out and confronts Undertaker, only to earn himself a chokeslam on the arena floor.
Meanwhile, Tazz gets Benoit with a dragon suplex, but only gets two off it before Jericho breaks up the count. Jericho throws Tazz into the ropes and runs right behind him, connecting with a flying forearm as Tazz turns around, sending him over the top rope. Tazz quickly climbs back up on the apron, but Jericho hits the springboard dropkick right in the mush, putting Tazz down on the arena floor. Benoit comes up from behind and cinches in the waistlock and starts on the rolling Germans; but on the third, Jericho pulls off a standing switch and hits one of his own. After shaking out the cobwebs, Jericho gets to his feet and jumps off the ropes, hitting the Lionsault. The ref makes the count and gets three, much to the chagrin of Triple H, who watches from the entrance, fuming and screaming. An exhausted Jericho stands against the ropes facing the entrance, holding up the belt to yet again remind Triple H who is champion and who isn’t, and daring him to come back to the ring. Undertaker mounts his bike, rides around the ring to turn it around and stops at the end of the aisle, revving the engine. Shawn joins his buddy in the entrance, vowing revenge on Raw.
To be concluded …
Whew! Two down, one to go.
I didn’t pimp Will Cooling last week because the guy vanished in early October. Hope he comes back soon.
The usual shout-outs to Kurtis, Bonto and Gohan for continued contributions and support in things both RB-related and beyond.
Only a few more days to vote on the InVasion! If you haven’t done it yet, get thee over to my blog and vote, damn thee! Voting closes when the clock strikes midnight, turning November into December.
Laflin is good reading.
In early December, I’m scheduled to go rounds with David Goldberg (aka Slayer). Should be fun. I’m looking forward to it, even if I have no idea how it’s gonna work.
Eric always brings the goods.
J. Kern and I have something very special in common: we both see fnords. If you don’t know, don’t ask.
I forgot Goforth, and I should be ashamed of myself for it. No excuses.
Music, TV, Comics (Good luck, Ben!), and Figures are all fantastic, too. It’s just that I’m writing this six days before I post it, and so most of the people I would normally pimp aren’t posted yet. Sorry.
One more part to go … Can Chris Jericho overcome a power structure dedicated to ending his reign? Triple H finally earned himself a title shot by way of corrupting his buddy Shawn Michaels … but will his plan pay dividends? And how can he pull it off with both The Rock and The Undertaker targeting him for destruction? And while Chris Benoit may have taken the fall, credit has to be given to The Undertaker for breaking the flow of the match … will Benoit, Kurt Angle or Tazz be looking for another taste of Y2J? The conclusion to the saga is but two weeks away …
