By Jason Moles

To paraphrase a bit of legendary cinema, Bas Rutten’s new TV show is one of the most insanely idiotic things I have ever seen. At no point in the rambling, incoherent episode was El Guapo even close to anything that could be considered a rational thought. Everyone who tuned in is now dumber for having watched it. I award this show no points, and may God have mercy on Bas’s soul.

Former UFC heavyweight champion turned TV show host, Bas Rutten, has a new show out on Fuel TV titled Punk Payback, which is somewhat odd considering none of the law-breaking punks actually get their comeuppance like they do on Bully Beatdown. So that’s strike one, right there: blatant false advertising.

The show starts with hilarious warnings reminiscent of Jackass, but less serious, declaring that everything you are about to see is purely for entertainment purposes only and that the techniques shown are possibly not even recommended by law enforcement. But what the hey, “El Guapo” approves, what have you got to lose?

Bas Rutten reviews surveillance footage of several crimes happening that he feels could have turned out differently had the victim known the proper thing to do. For instance, what should you do if someone tries to carjack you or rob you with a palm tree? Yes, you read that right.

Punk Payback offers little in the way of valuable life skills or entertainment.  It is a combination of Bas’ YouTube videos and Manswers minus the gratuitous cleavage. You’ll get a few chuckles every now and then in addition to an ample dosage of WWE-esque punches, kicks, and of course, palm strikes. Aside from that, there’s not much else.

The only noteworthy bit I got out of the pilot episode is that if I’m ever in a bar fight and need to improvise a weapon, I should break the beer bottle on my opponents head rather than on the table in hopes of creating a stabbing device.

If you’re really, really bored — or stoned — this show may suit you. For the rest of you, well, let’s just say that you’d be better served spending those thirty minutes slamming your head against the wall.