Remember back in May, when I discovered that WWE novel where the superstars are also black-ops specialists in the employ of the government?
Well, it's finally been released.
No, I haven't bought a copy (although that's pretty amazing for me, seeing as I also have copies of Journey Into Darkness (the 'unauthorised' biography of Kane) and two
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Let's hope Chavo saves the day.
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Triple-H looks like a radioactive triceratops, talks-uh like this-uh and would tear a quad walking down the stairs.
John Cena - petulant brat who desperatly wants to be black and does so by adopting all teh worst cliches. Also, has the worst punch in the business.
Batista - six and a half feet of solid muscle, more instantly recognisible than the Goodyear blimp, has to go through doors sideways but at least he has a brain.
Chavo G - Actually a reasonable, bright and kind man with a lot of talent. He'll be dead by the end.
Torrie - The token woman. Gods forbid they should include Jazz (actually pretty tough), Trist Stratus (actually intelligent) or Stacy (acrobatic and actually very sweet although not too bright). They picked the cosmetic surgery addict without two brain cells to run together and no discernable athletic talent.
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If I was writing this book, I'd include a scene where Cena tries to talk 'street' to some gangbangers, and gets the tar kicked out of him.
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