And now for something completely different. Or sadly, not.
The gimmick that brought his career back from the brink was squashed through the WWE filter like Vince McMahon's dirty laundry overfilling a lawyer's tumble dryer, but at least his 'Woken' reinvention hasn't yet become as laboured as that analogy or the rest of the main roster.
Bobby Roode isn't 'Glorious' anymore, just in case the silence greeting his once-iconic entrance wasn't deafening enough. Finn Bálor held the Universal Championship for one day - roughly the same amount of time he managed to stay over after what appeared to be a career-saving victory over AJ Styles last October. Bayley would still be a 'Hugger' if there were anybody still left that wanted to reciprocate, but the audiences have been doing their best Sasha Banks impressions thanks to her catastrophic scripting.
Not to parrot a million other similar dissenters, but WWE is currently stone dead. No more. Ceased to be. Expired and gone to meet its maker. Bereft of life. Pushing up the daisies. Off the twig. Kicked the bucket. Shuffled off this mortal coil. Run down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisible. This is an ex-pro wrestling company.
McMahon's one ring circus certainly isn't flying. But astonishingly, it has been worse...
Square eyes on a square head, trained almost exclusively to Pro Wrestling, Sunderland AFC & Paul Rudd films. Responsible for 'Shocking Plans You Won't Believe Actually Happened', some of the words in our amazing Wrestling bookazines (both available at shop.whatculture.com), and probably every website list you read that praised Kevin Nash.