WWE aren't the boundless well of surprises they once were, and frankly, it's understandable.
There sits around a table a collection of creative minds frazzled beyond reason catering to the whims of an increasingly irritable old man, piling on to sneak lines of dialogue into a bloated three hour show that routinely neglects all narrative convention anyway. Writers don't seem to be allowed to work on their own programmes - passion projects with favoured performers - instead contributing the same voices to a host of different personas and angles that subsequently all look, sound and feel identical. In the rare case of a heel turn worth its salt in 2018, the risk of dilution in the very next segment is all too real.
Done right, they provide a storyline with a spine. A raison d'être for a babyface beyond workplace bullying or obnoxious d*ckheadedness at the expense of an authority figure they've suddenly developed a dispute with. The logic of a turn inherently checks out too - corruption is often rewarded until comeuppance is sought and gained.
The most enjoyable are ordinarily those that come as a complete shock. A great babyface should make even the casual observer feel part of their journey, and thus feel the pain of a former friend's devastating change of heart.
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.