I can’t believe how quickly Bray Wyatt and his goons have grown stale! Suddenly I’m not interested, they’re all flash and little substance. They built up such epic promise but were ultimately unable to deliver. I couldn’t get into Bray Wyatt’s soliloquy at all — his thing about a house on a hill with a white picket fence (or whatever it was) was tedious and difficult to follow. It turns out John Cena was right: Bray Wyatt was neither a god nor an anti-hero, he was simply all talk.
Bad News Barrett is strange and unique — he’s a bad-ass dandy. You don’t see that combination very often.
And how wacky is it that we’ve got a sociopathic motivational speaker as a heel? A super dorky one at that. And yet, I feel as though he’s an excellent addition to the talent pool. He’s not a guru type, though, he’s the kind that’s so annoying he can’t motivate anybody. Impressive that a spouter of lame-ass platitudes is currently complex and interesting.
Dean Ambrose is such a ladies’ man. I hope I’m not wrong in speaking in general for the ladies who watch wrestling. Dean Ambrose is our man. I would totally buy his t-shirt.
The look on Roman Reigns’ face when those three jobbers came in to gang up on him was classic, the best moment of the night. It was not a theatrical wrestling gesture. It was subtle, a nuance that only television cameras could capture. His look said it all: “Seriously? I so don’t have time for this.”
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