Friday, April 8, 2011

Platinum Championship Wrestling - 3/31/2011

I know I said I’d have some recaps of last weekend up yesterday. It just didn’t happen. I was so bummed out to be back at work after six wonderful days off that the creative juices simply would not flow. Even writing this last night I wasn’t totally into it. I still like January’s PCW recap tons better. Also, you’re going to have to wait for Tuesday to get more because I’m off this weekend and this recap took me pretty much all night last night. I’ll have another Green Lantern review up Monday.
In other news, I’m actually going to have some Doctor Who-related content to lead up to the season premiere later this month. This came as a surprise to me – I thought I was going to be hard-pressed for material for that one.
Last weekend represented the most excessive and ridiculous wrestling-related time in my life. Not that I partied a whole lot more than I should’ve – the wet blankets I was rolling with all weekend ensured that wasn’t going to happen (“I’ve got to get home and see my girlfr… I mean, I’ve got to work in the morning!” Pussy.) – but I attended five wrestling events over the course of four days. That’s a lot of wrestling. Fortunately, most of it was awesome.

It all started Thursday night with Platinum Championship Wrestling’s triumphant return to The Masquerade. The only announced matches were the First Blood match between Aisha Sunshine (formerly Bananas Sinclair) and Pandora (formerly Crazee Ted) and the Championship match with Vordell Walker (formerly Coco Lutz) challenging for Shane Marx’s title. Only two matches, but definitely reason enough to be excited. I’m dropping some more of my funny little nicknames this month because I’m getting to the point where I recognize more people and quite a few are having some really kickass matches. Also because it’s really getting confusing trying to remember who gets a nickname and who gets a real name. Fuckin’ up my flow.
Angry Matt was – as always – the Designated Driver and was thirty minutes late. Again. Add to that picking up Dios De Pobre from the bowels of the Ghetto and we arrived at The Masquerade about forty-five minutes after bell time. Actually, it wasn’t all Angry Matt’s fault. After picking Pobre up I put The Masquerade’s address into our increasingly less reliable Garmin and it took us to 695 North Avenue in Hapeville. Obviously not where we wanted to be. BUT – if Angry Matt had been on time in the first place it wouldn’t have mattered. But let’s move on, since Angry Matt is kind (and compensated) enough to drive and we don’t want him to decide his passengers are too picky about stupid things like arriving on time and quit driving.
So we arrived at the tail end of a match between the Washington Bullets and two white guys. I was pretty pissed off by the time we got there, so my priority was imbibing a lot of beer, quick. Alcohol chills me out. I’m not an angry or mean drunk; so pouring some Miller Lites on my irritation was a better idea than it might sound like.
The place was about as packed as I’ve seen it for a PCW show. I went straight to the bar to begin my self-medication and had apparently been enough of a dick that Angry Matt and Pobre kept clear of me for a little while. I got two beers to start and downed them in a couple of minutes. Feeling better already, I headed back to the bar for two more.
Which is when I caught sight of something truly magical. Something that made all the anger and irritation just fall away like the cocoon of a newly-resurrected butterfly. The sight lifted me up and made my night, because standing before me in the back of The Masquerade’s Heaven level was none other than color commentator, booker, manager, promoter and one of the greatest minds in modern professional wrestling – Mister James E. Cornette!
I am a big fan of Jim Cornette, from hating him in the 90’s to loving the guy for his work in OVW, TNA and ROH. It really was a big thrill to see him standing right there in front of me.
I ran over and grabbed Angry Matt’s arm (likely leaving bruises that lasted well through WrestleMania) and spun him around. I think I scared the shit out of him.
Me - “Holy shit! Look who’s standing right over there!”
Angry Matt - “What? Who?”
Me (pointing and quite possibly jumping up and down) – “Fucking Jim Cornette! Holy shit! Come get a picture!”
Angry Matt – “Holy shit!”
So I went over to Mr. Cornette and – being careful not to startle him like I had my friend – told him how exciting it was to meet him and asked if I could get a picture with him. He was super-nice and waited while I put the mask on:
I asked Angry Matt and Pobre if they wanted pictures, but they declined. I can’t decided if most of the people I know aren’t as excited by meeting famous people they like or are just more respectful of those individual’s personal space. The way I look at it is if you’ve pursued the life of a celebrity to any degree, you’re voluntarily giving up a certain amount of privacy. Like, the amount that keeps people from walking up to you and asking for autographs or pictures. I also believe, though, that you have every right to refuse if you want. Granted, that makes you a dick, but that’s your call.
So four beers in and having fulfilled my Cornette quota for the year, I was pretty damn content and ready for some PCW.
Apparently there were some serious shenanigans during the Bullets match that I totally missed because of my little Cornette experience. I’m going to say the Bullets won because I like those guys. Anyway, some of the boards under the ring came up and they had to send out their ring crew to stomp them back into place:
I’m not sure why the Platinum Championship Wrestling ring crew consists of eight-to-twelve-year-olds. Maybe PCW Chief Executive General Chairman Chill Phil is the ODB of professional wrestling.
Anyway, they sent Vagrant out to talk to try and distract us from the small children repairing the ring. This didn’t work because children jumping up and down on a loose board is infinitely more entertaining than anything I’ve seen Vagrant do.
Vagrant – “Pardon me folks, I have some consonants to pour out of my orifice and into your canals.”
Crowd – “What?” (and not in a Austin-inspired way, just confused)
Vagrant – “I have experienced the estimation of nobility through my excesses and interludes with the man known as Phantom. Over the many cycles through which we have built this construct I have encouraged to respect this being.”
Crowd – “ASHY, ASHY, ASHY!”
Vagrant – “Now, now; I hold no languish on yon disguised embattlement, yet…”
Crowd – “ASHY, ASHY, ASHY!”
Vagrant – “Nay, for to defenestrate yet one bit...”
Crowd – “ASHY, ASHY, ASHY!”
Vagrant – “Man, fuck this y’all. Anybody got some cocoa butter?”
I have no idea what happened to Vagrant’s new manager and chronic Pandora-hater Justin Tolerable. I’m just glad they replaced January’s commentator – Sweet Freddy Tweedle - because that guy was fucking terrible. He just couldn’t hang with Chill Phil, who is legitimately good. Sweet Freddy’s replacement had a British accent, which is a huge advantage because anything said in a British accent is automatically 40% more pithy/intelligent.
Once the child laborers had earned their monthly nickel, we went straight into the seventh(!) match of the Phantom (no relation) Invitational.
I’m still not entirely clear on the story of these matches or why PCW’s Phantom (no relation) gets his own Invitational, but this was the best match I have seen Vagrant in. Mostly thanks to Phantom. I honestly wasn’t paying too much attention at first, still basking in my post-Corny afterglow; but these guys caught my attention with some decent back-and-forth and then held it once Vagrant successfully unmasked Phantom (no relation). 
Phantom (no relation) pretty much lost his mind at this point, but Vagrant managed to get the pinfall and win the tournament anyway. Boo.
Next up was Chad Silva and Somebody Daniels versus…
THE GREATEST PCW TAG TEAM OF ALL TIME!
THE EXOTIC ONES!
Even barring how much I genuinely enjoy The Exotic Ones and their act this was a very good match. Silva and Daniels were good and held up their end against the Exotics, who are apparently faces now after their feud with the Konkrete Gorillaz (who I think came on earlier in the card). I had planned to snap a few pictures and return to the bar, but this match kept me at ringside. After Michaels’ signature Face In Peril ™ routine, The Exotic Ones came back and got the win. And I ran back to the bar to beer up and talk to Pobre and Angry Matt about how good that match had been.
The reason they were sitting in the back is that Angry Matt’s back gives him problems if he stands or walks for too long and there were no chairs up close. I don’t think about it a whole lot because the guy is six or seven years younger than me and my brain just won’t process his affliction. This will be important later. Like, say, Sunday.
And then Seanbaby came out with his stable of assholes. I know his name isn’t Seanbaby, but I think he needs a more intimidating wrestling nom de plume than “Jeremy Arnold”. As for his charges - CM Flunk and Dollar William are regulars, but there was a third party to contend with Thursday night. I think the toolbox in the skirt has been at DCW before, but I’m not sure. He certainly looks like he should be at DCW. I went to look for a name, but Platinum Championship Wrestling hasn’t updated their roster page since Road Dogg was swimming around in Bullet Bob’s sack, so there’s no telling. I’m going to call him “Cravin’” for what I hope are obvious reasons. I almost called him Fairuza for reasons you’ll need this picture to understand:
Normally I refer to these guys as CM Dollars, but the addition of Cravin’ complicates matters. I’m going with the Legion of Gloom.
CM Flunk – “Man, I sure am glad we don’t have to fight the Washington Bullets this time! They’re so lame people don’t even recognize their entrance music.”
Dollar William – “I know, right? Man. We must’ve finally caught Chill Phil’s eye with our aggressive style and unique look. Seanbaby, you’re the best manager EVER!”
Seanbaby – “(remains silent)”
CM Flunk – “No more jobbers for us!”
Seanbaby – “(remains silent)”
The LOG’s opponents for the night were three guys drawn from a hat. And I mean that as literally as I possibly could. I 100% believe with all of my heart that Stephen Platinum put the names of everybody backstage in a hat at the beginning of the night to determine opponents for the Legion of Gloom (I just realized that Cravin’ was the guy that ran in on the Bullets/Dollars match with Pandora last month). That’s the only way to explain this:
Dollar William – “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
CM Flunk – “AW, C’MON! Seanbaby, you suck!”
Seanbaby – “Look, guys – you’re the ones who wanted a third guy so you could challenge the Gorillaz and the Exotic Ones. It’s not my fault that the Gorillaz kicked Dewey out and Meat Snack got kidnapped! There aren’t any more trios in PCW!”
Cravin’ – “But now we’ve got the advantage!”
CM Flunk & Dollar William – “Shut the fuck up.”
If you were wondering (and you probably weren’t), the Legion was facing the superstar-caliber team of Topher Grace, the Golden Pony and Epic Mitchell. Mr. Grace was Vordell Walker’s opponent at the January show and they had a great match. I don’t know about these other two.
Pony started things off against Cravin’ and pretty much got his ass whooped. Cravin’ may look like a bit of a fancy lad, but he takes care of bidness inside the ring, jack. And either Cravin’ hit his finish – likely some variation of a DDT – mighty quick or this match was one of those that was so good I got caught up and forgot to take pictures until it was over.
Seanbaby – “See? See, you guys? That was awesome! You totally rule as a three-man wrecking crew! L-O-G! L-O-G! L-O-G!”
Crowd – “Boo.”
Dollar William - “Log?”
Cravin’ – “Phew! I sure am glad I could prove…”
CM Flunk & Dollar William – “Shut the fuck up.”
CM Flunk kept giving me the stinkeye, which makes me a little nervous. 
I don’t want to get into anything with a guy who has more fonts in a single tattoo than I have arms.
A word of advice, Cravin’ – go back to the bedazzled shorts you wore last time. The only “Dude In A Skirt” act with any longevity is Piper. Just ask Raven, Mosh, Thrasher, Perry Saturn or Vito. Especially Vito.
I hope Seanbaby got paid extra that night, because after he escorted the Legion of Gloom backstage he has to turn right back around and walk Pandora out for her First Blood match with Aisha Sunshine.
I dig the coordinated facewear.
This match was awesome. Sunshine pretty much immediately busted out a pair of scissors (you will never convince me to say “a scissors”) and tried to cut Pandora’s eyelids off. Thankfully, referee Tut Stooperson managed to wrest the deadly orange-handled implements of shredding destruction away from the normally quite sane Ms. Sunshine. And then, of course, Pandora clobbered her from behind.
The two ladies pretty much beat the shit out of each other for about ten minutes, utilizing such classic holds as the Greco-Roman elbow to the face and the mounted turnbuckle ten punch. 
Eventually the action spilled out onto the floor of Heaven and somehow both ladies got
BUSTED WIDE OPEN!
I take no small amount of pride in the fact that Pandora and Sunshine have both used these as their profile pictures.
In a bit of booking that is either clever or stupid but definitely bizarre and unprecedented, Referee Stooperson decreed that both wrestlers had been bloodied simultaneously and that
THE MATCH MUST CONTINUE!
While Pandora had the whole Legion of Gloom in her corner, Aisha Sunshine had no support at all. Luckily, PCW Chief Executive General Chairman Chill Phil is both a scholar and a gentleman; so he rushed to the young lady’s aid. Chill Phil loves his employees; after Stooperson repeatedly tried to get the match restarted, Chill Phil can be seen here telling him he’s Number One!:
Since Doctor Mei Lei (formerly Doctor Knives) was not in attendance, Chill Phil had to do the best he could to bandage Sunshine up with a Target bag full of paper and some Scotch tape.
Seanbaby fared a little better with Pandora’s wound; wrapping about eighty feet of masking tape around her head.
I am ashamed to admit that I cannot remember who won this match, but it’s kind of one of those deals where it doesn’t matter. Both ladies went out there and busted ass and created a very physical, very memorable match. Everybody wins.
Except Seanbaby, who got blood all over his nice, white jacket.
Next up, your
Platinum Championship Wrestling
MAIN EVENT
Vordell Walker vs. PCW Champion Shane Marx
I was pretty stoked about this one. Walker had a hell of a match against Topher Grace in January and Shane Marx has a hell of a match every single time he steps into the squared circle. Walker is a fast power guy with a good technical repertoire and Marx is a heavyweight that moves like a cruiserweight.
This was going to be good.
Vordell Walker entered first (being the challenger – I fucking hate when the champ comes out first; I don’t care who the challenger is. I’m looking at you, WWE) and immediately yelled out a challenge.
Walker – “Where’s the asshole that called me Coco Lutz in a recap a couple months ago?”
The guys behind me just laughed and laughed.
Marx hit the ring next and was super, super pumped up.
And their match caused me to not take a single picture. Seriously, I have, like, zero pictures of Shane Marx matches.
Actually, I made a conscious decision not to take pictures during this match. Regardless of the fact that you’re sitting there looking directly at a match, if you’re taking pictures you’re not catching everything. You’re not really paying attention to the match that’s going on, you’re just looking for spots to photograph. And I wanted to pay attention to this one.
Marx won and the very second the match was over Chip Day, Vagrant and Stephanie McLayin’ hit the ring to check out the champ. 
Day offered a hand to the exhausted Marx and Vagrant and McLayin’ merely looked on. I just found out last night that this was the setup for the April 27th PCW @ The Masquerade Main Event, which will feature PCW Champion Shane Marx defending his title against not one, not two, but THREE contenders – “Do Or Die” Chip Day, The Vagrant and Stephanie McLayin’s relatively untalented gimp, Miner Threat!
Be there or be a total lame-oid!
For more pictures of this awesome PCW event, check out my Facebook page and send me a friend request while you're there!

Until next time, stay creepy
-Phantom

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