The Best And Worst Of WWE NXT 8/30/18: Dunne And Only

Previously on the Best and Worst of NXT: NXT TakeOver: Brooklyn 4 happened, and I ended up writing little mini-essays for all five matches, because they deserved them. Then we took a week off for the regular NXT TakeOver pre-show, where the only analysis is ever, “this was really good, but it’s almost not even canon.”

If you missed this episode, you can watch it here. If you’d like to read previous installments of the Best and Worst of NXT, click right here. Follow With Spandex on Twitter and Facebook. You can also follow me on Twitter, where everything and everyone is terrible.

And now, the Best and Worst of WWE NXT for August 30, 2018.

Best: This Is The Weirdest Adaptation Of A Christmas Carol I’ve Ever Seen

Up first this week we get an in-ring promo from crippled urchin boy Tiny Tim, who is upset because he let one of his dirtbag dad ruin Thanksgiving and convince him to run off a 19th century London street corner and injure himself like an idiot. He’s interrupted by NXT factory manager Ebenezer Scrooge, who questions him about a local murder and doesn’t get a straight answer.

At this point they’re interrupted by the beautiful and mysterious Ghost of Christmas Next Week, who shows up in a head wrap and suspenders without a shirt to say he’s tired of seeing this story adapted every year. Tiny Tim throws a crutch at him to set up a fight for next week, and Scrooge heads backstage to question the Artful Dodger, Fagin’s gang, and Miss Havisham about that murder.

I like the story Dickens is trying to tell here — you want the crowd to come back around to liking Tiny Tim and understanding his motivations so they don’t think he broke his brain falling off that street corner — but that unfortunate clandestine murder right before Thanksgiving seems like it pushed up all his novels and made him run through the details too quickly. Plus, at this point I think we’d all rather be cheering for the Ghost of Christmas Next Week.

Best: Darling Nikki

Real quick, there’s nothing that gets to the heart of what I love about NXT more than, “character development scenes in William Regal’s office.” They’re the BEST, because they allow the fun, fresh talent I love to watch wrestle get to develop in a different way alongside one of the best actors wrestling’s ever had. Regal’s facial expressions can tell you everything you need to know about the person he’s looking at and how he feels about them in an instant. We’ve seen him be understandably exhausted by Austin Aries, form a love-hate relationship with Tyler Breeze, hate Bull Dempsey’s guts, have concerned fatherly talks with Bayley, adore but be completely bewildered by the IIconics, and more.

My favorite bit from this week’s backstage interviews (besides Regal’s omnipresent shrine to his Power of the Punch) is his interview with Nikki Cross, who spins around in a swivel chair and answers a telephone that isn’t ringing before going full house cat and just rolling around on his desk. Thanks, Nikki, I’m going to be walking around for the next week randomly yelling, “AYE NO WHO DEDDAH.” Bianca Belair having to storm in and make her professional demands because Regal’s taking too long with this crazy-ass white girl is perfect, too. NXT can set up matches people want to see in like two minutes, which is one of the values of running an hour-long show written by people who want us to like the show, and not a three-hour USA Network commercial depository written by a 70-year old and a bunch of dudes who’d rather be writing for General Hospital.

Best: Keith Lee Brings Back The Spirit Bomb

I’d have more to say here, but I couldn’t stop thinking Keith was wrestling “Mimsy.” I can’t wait until he Spirit Bombs Ricochet and flips him like three times.

Not As Good: The Wrestling Parts

The actual wrestling matches on this week’s show aren’t as strong as the character work, but they literally just had NXT TakeOver Brooklyn 4 and a pre-show with a Pete Dunne/Zack Gibson match on it, so they can be forgiven for slowing down a little.

Up first is Dakota Kai vs. Aliyah. Both of these characters are in crisis, I think, but Kai’s got way more of an upside. Kai’s fantastic in the ring, but her character’s still in its infancy, and the only real development we’ve gotten is that she’s one of those Alicia Fox-type captains who isn’t really captaining anything but themselves, and that she’s rightfully terrified of having her entire skeleton ripped out by Shayna Baszler. That’s something. Aliyah gets a new character or a new character tweak nearly every time we see her, as now she’s not a rich lady, she’s a rich lady who’s been “cut off” by her family. If they put as much effort into developing Aliyah’s character and wrestling as they do in her ring gear and personae, she’d be Tommaso Ciampa.

The good news is that even the “eh” matches on NXT are pretty good, and that Kai desperately needs to beat the people at or slightly below her level if she’s going to get rehabbed from Year One Bayley into Year Three Bayley. With Kairi Sane as Women’s Champion for a while, she’ll finally have a comfortable few months (at least) to do that. It’s tough being the most talented and likable lower-tier character in a division with a murderous Dickhead Fonzie on top, because they always need to kill the most talented and likable people on the bottom to show their dominance while someone preps to challenge them. It’s also why Candice LeRae hasn’t gotten anything in NXT beyond “sad wife” yet.

Also in the middle of the card this week is supposed to be EC3 vs. Raul Mendoza (and his K-Dogg music video entrance theme), but a returning Lars Sullivan attacks The Carter backstage and eats Mendoza’s lunch. Highlights here are Sullivan reminding me that he looks and sounds like Chris Farley playing Shrek, Mendoza’s hilarious springboard nothing into being headbutted to death, and Mauro realizing out in real time that Aleister Black breaking Lars Sullivan’s jaw might’ve given Sullivan a motive to attack Black. Like, yeah man, we’re all already there, good to have you

Finally we have the Undisputed Era (with Adam Cole subbing in for Kyle O’Reilly, who is not the guy on that team you wanna sub in for) against NXT’s Goofus and Gallant, Ricochet and Pete Dunne, team name “Dunne and Only.” Ricochet x Pete Dunne is one of those teams that’s so good on paper you know they’re never actually winning a match, and are only there to lose via miscommunication and end up fighting each other. And it’s Ricochet and Pete Dunne, so you’re like, yeah, go ahead and do that, because Ricochet vs. Pete Dunne one-on-one is better than anything you’re gonna do together in a tag.

They’re also an interesting tag team because they’re polar opposites on the “what wrestling fans want to see in 2018” chart. On one side you’ve got Ricochet, who has an almost total absence of emotional storytelling in what he does (when he’s not dressed like an Aztec cat) but is so insanely beyond talented at the physical action of pro wrestling that it barely ever matters to anyone. He blows your mind with these physical feats, like the backflip equivalent of Mark Henry lifting a car. Then you’ve got Pete Dunne, who doesn’t really do anything dramatically impressive in the ring, but is SO GOOD at everything he actually does that it builds entire, detailed narratives out of wristlocks and mouthguard goofs. It’s like somebody booked Johnny Weaver vs. Blitzkrieg. And yes, that’s the most Dennis Miller my references have ever sounded.

The match is fun while it lasts, but yeah, it’s an excuse to have Ricochet dive into Dunne and cost them the match. The NXT exclusive of them backstage arguing is a very good illustration of that paragraph in promo form, because Dunne’s 100% in character and selling, and Ricochet’s nervously speeding through his lines and saying HOMEBOY too much like he’s Bella Hadid looking for sneakers.

I know they’ll probably just end up being friends again, but I’m dying to see the North American Championship on the line against the UK Championship, and the Bruiserweight taking homeboy to church.

Next Week:

Feed it directly into my veins.