Worst: Well This Isn’t Very Good
Mojo Rawley vs. Sylvester LeFort certainly isn’t a thing I want to see when I watch NXT. What happened to Enzo? I know he was hurt, but having him around was always a good time. I got that NXT roster poster at WrestleMania Axxess and dude’s not even on it. Mojo’s got a big picture and a spotlight, though.
As for LeFort, there is no way that guy should still exist after Lana was born from his brain fully-grown and brought up to Raw. The roster poster also features like 10 guys I’ve either never seen, haven’t seen in a year or only recognize from house show results. Can we bring one of THEM up instead of wasting time with LeFort? And if not, can we have a Diva accidentally sit down on a stripe of white paint and have it cause LeFort to chase her around trying to kiss her the entire show? Because that is seriously my Sylvester LeFort fantasy booking.
(I like to imagine that Mason Ryan watched this movie through a hole in the wall like Norman Bates in Psycho. The remake, with the gross noises added in.)
Best: Mason Doesn’t Get Hype, He Stays Hype
There was one good thing about Mojo’s squash:
Okay, that’s pretty endearing.
Worst: Why Can’t Brodus Clay Keep His Eyes Open When He Screams?
Brodus Clay shows up and powerbombs Sylvester LeFort, assumedly Muhammad Hassan’ing him, then cuts a promo about how Adrian Neville is a coward who won’t answer his challenges. This does a lot to establish Neville as a fighting champion who isn’t concerned about size differentials (good) and cements Brodus as a loudmouthed coward who probably doesn’t deserve the things he’s complaining about deserving (good?), but I couldn’t help but notice one thing … why can’t Brodus scream with his eyes open?
Watch the promo again. Look at that picture. Every time he raises his voice, he furrows his brow really hard and closes his eyes. Can Brodus not shout? Is this a learned thing? Is he trying not to sneeze?
Best: LOL Camacho
Best part of the show this week in a WALK was the re-debut of Oliver Grey, who you probably do not remember as Adrian Neville’s old tag team partner. He is Wrestling’s Hugh Grant. That’s his gimmick. He’s just a boy, standing in front of a girl, asking her to interview him about his return to NXT.
The reason this was the best part of the show is because THE BOY CAMACHO shows up out of nowhere cosplaying David Otunga, cutting a 100% unrelated to anything happening promo about how he hates Adam Rose. As he does this, he looks down and to the left, clearly reading from cue cards because I guess he couldn’t remember “Adam Rose is a poser and I’m gonna beat him up” without elaborate prompting. Grey’s all, “haha what,” and Camacho just purses his lips and wanders away, because he forgot his argyle coffee thermos and doesn’t have a prop to work with.
Best: Five Star Match Warning
The other, closer-to-an-actual-Best-Best moment of the show was (believe it or not) an appearance from The Great Khali. He shows up suddenly to stand uncomfortably close to Devin Taylor and starts putting over NXT hard, talking about how this is his first time at NXT and all he’s heard is great things. Then, BAYLEY. Bayley wanders up and hugs him for no reason, saying that she wanted to know what it felt like to hug him and commenting that he’s “a little slippery.” She then starts making out for how tall he is and I want to hug them both.
And then if that wasn’t enough, CJ Parker shows up with a f*cking wind sock on his head and yells “PLEASE TELL ME THAT YOU RECYCLE!” That leads to a confrontation that sets up a Parker/Khali match for next week — an absolute BURNER OF BARNS — and Parker’s reason for accepting the fight is wonderful: “judging by the size of ya I’d say you produce about three tiiimes the amount of human waste as the average wandering generality out there in the NXT universe.” You are delightfully weird, CJ Parker.
Khali starts talking and nobody understands him, so Bayley volunteers to translate, as she’s been “taking Punjabi lessons.” Devin Taylor’s sell of this is AMAZING, because it’s the exact facial response you’d have if a mental 8-year old told you they’re balls deep in a foreign tongue. Khali offers an adorable, “thank you for translating!” as they walk away.
Somewhere offscreen, Camacho stares at their knees.