If you watched Paul “Triple H” Levesque’s “WWE NXT,” then you know that this guy loves Akam, he loves Rezar, he loves the crazy BJJ antics of Karrion Kross and his wife Scarlett (with two Ts), and he’s going to shove them down our throats as much as possible. I don’t even really have a problem with Akam and Rezar, the Authors of Pain are smashmouth badasses and their less-than-reputable shenanigans with the World Entertainment Series suggest that they have a little of that carny con-man edge that all great wrestlers have. However, the whole “Final Testament” experiment is dead in the water for me already.

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They’ve beaten up The Street Profits on SmackDown. They bullied the rookies of NXT. They’re now on Raw, treating The Creed Brothers like local geeks. I am sick to death of The Final Testament. Whatever reckoning they are promising is taking for-f***ing-ever. Maybe I’ve missed the mark. Maybe their presence is a torture. Maybe the cruelty is the point and I just have to sit back and watch the inevitable rise of a faction that is seemingly sauceless, juiceless, devoid of that spark that makes a good wrestling act.

It’s possible that each and every part of the faction would work in enhancing separate talents or factions, but this specific combination feels like it cancels itself out. Kross, Akam, and Rezar have all seemingly had chance after chance to be “the guy” and every one of them has seemingly ended up “a guy.” It’s like watching the sunk cost fallacy in one group.

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I wish I had a less holistic opinion but there’s just a vibe to this thing we call wrestling. Some things jive and some things don’t. Some factions put your teeth on edge, some factions make you taste blood, some factions terrify you, excite you, enrage you, some make you laugh, some annoy you, some hold you, thrill you, kiss you, kill you, and some factions make you feel nothing at all, and for some indiscernible reason, The Final Testament isn’t hitting for me. 

Paul Ellering is innocent, though, he literally just stands there and looks terrifying. No notes for Paul Ellering. 10/10.

Written by Ross Berman