Patty O'Green

Well, with an e-fed there's no chance of me winding up heavily medicated and under 24 hour surveillance! All the promos on this show were really good. I'd be hard pressed to pick a favorite. The Alix/Leon lemonade bit was purrrdy cute, though. As was Vitamin X's and Cuban Wall's attempt to come up with a team name, entrance style, etc. Also I'm often amazed at Ned's ability to be both funny and outright deplorable at the same time. It seems the civil war angle has really drummed up some interesting plot points and storyline twists in the past couple of weeks. Respect. I love Ragdoll. What a great character. My life just hasn't been complete without him in it. Stay with me forever. Don't break this heart again, baby. I noticed the Hollywood Rockers error well before the show was posted, and probably should've said something. But I was hoping it would subtly encourage Tony to change their name. It didn't as evidenced by the "HEAVENLY" in his post. Sorry, ya'll.

YAY!

WHOO NOT READY FOR SHOW YET, WILL TELL YOU WHEN IS READY FOR SHOW! NOT READY YET! HUGS AND KISSES, PATTY! PS: Must be put after NNMX promo, plz/ PS: HUGS AND KISSES FTW! The somber guitar strands that mark the opening of Lindsay Lohan's version of [i]Edge of Seventeen[/i] leak through the speakers. The sold out crowd emits a full throated roar of anticipation for the beloved wrestler who's soon to grace their meager presence. As soon as the roar dies down, a golden pyro explosion engulfs the entirety of the entrance stage. The cheers begin anew, matching the increased volume of the song. Krista Isaodra Duncan strolls out on the stage, outfitted in a highly fashionable sleeveless denim vest, and a sexy pair of granite colored low rise flared jeans. Shortly after her arrival, she's joined by teen screams, the Sk8er Boiz! The handsome twins spring to life, speeding across the stage, and tossing punches at phantom foes. No doubt the energetic display is caused by the NRG protein shakes they consumed shortly before entering the arena floor, and the NRG jogging suits they currently wear. COACH These clownshoes make a mockery of the name NRG. The NRGetic siblings take off to the ring at full speed, slapping hands with the mass of young girls who have pushed their way to the front of the barricades in hopes of being able to touch the youthful hunks. COLE Neither of these three are involved in a match tonight, but Marv and Mel sure are acting like they are! I suppose the boys are out here as a favor to Krista, who they credit with turning their lives around and getting them into shape. The hyperactive boys run a full lap around the squared circle, chanting N-R-G as they do so. After that, they both enter the ring, scaling to opposite turnbuckles, boasting smiles an ocean wide. Moving in perfect concert, they rip off their sweatshirts, toss them overhead, and pose for the glut of screaming teenage girls. COLE The Sk8er Boiz, despite what their outfits might lead you to believe are not very popular men in the NRG camp. Those two teams will face off in the final first round match of the 2006 Anderson Cup. The men, who are at their wits end with the roaring fangirls, are thankfully blessed with something to cheer for, as Krista Isadora Duncan enters the ring. The ultra popular blonde bombshell is given a microphone by a helpful ringside attendant. Our camera man providies a decent look at the ring, which has been extravagantly decorated with various trophies, and awards, that rest within gorgeous wooden cases. Upon closer inspection each honor seems to belong to Krista Isadora Duncan. “K-I-D! K-I-D! K-I-D!” KRISTA Friends, Romans, Countrymen, get out your Dutch Masters, your Phillys, pour some of that Alize, grab a pint of Hennessy, lean back, close your eyes and prepare yourself to take a spellbinding journey through the macabre theater that is my mind, as I will treat all of you to my opinion on the recently passed Angle Awards. Now I'm not deaf, although living in the same house as Alix sometimes makes me wish I was. So I hear the whispers, and the insinuations that I'm bitter that Alix won female wrestler of the year and I didn't. Bitter? Me? Krista Isadora Duncan? Never! I'm honestly happy for Alix. I'm truthfully very glad that she won. But.... “ALIX! ALIX! ALIX!” KRISTA How are we supposed to keep young girls off drugs now? Don't do drugs, Bertha, you'll never amount to anything. Uh-uh, I can be OAOAST female wrestler of the year! See? When society looks like something out of [i]Mad Max[/i], we can point to this result as the reason why! Anyway, I did a quick scan of my fellow losers, and I have to ask who the hell are these other girls in this fed? Where on earth did they come from? Is the OAOAST owned by Rumpelstiltskin? Did he just buy these girls when they were babies, and decided the summer of 2005 would be a good time to collect? Did some talent scout just grab a group of girls getting off their shift at the glory hole at the local Exxon's bathroom, and offer them a contract? If we're going to compare ourselves to Stevie Wonder songs, I'm [i]My Cheri Amour[/i], the rest of these personality deficient chicks are [i]Don't Drive Drunk[/i]. Now if you take the “don't” out of that song's title and add “into a brick wall at eighty miles per hour” you get exactly what I suggest Jim Cornette do. COACH That's no way to talk about a pro wrestling icon. KRISTA Jimmy, I highly recommend you go to down to the nearest gas station and purchase a lottery ticket, because right now you're riding a lucky streak. You are ridiculously lucky that I am in such a jovial mood. Because if you ran your mouth like you did earlier tonight on any other Thursday, you wouldn't have a chance of being able to feed yourself the next day. I'd shove my foot so far up your ass, you'd have to brush your teeth with Sport Magic shoe cleaner. But as it stands, I'm going to calmly put you in your place and then I'm going to be done with you. You are an insignificant, hateful, little gnome. You matter as much to me as the fly that recently went splat on my Porsche's windshield. But if you insist on bringing my daughter up in your mundane sleep inducing promos, you two will go splat all over my windshield. I will run you down, until there is nothing left but your big fat donkey lips. There is something you need to understand, old man river, my daughter is not a wrestler, she is not part of this company, she is an innocent five year old girl. And if you're so desperate to get heat that you have bring her up, then why don't you do us all a favor and get that heat by throwing yourself into a blazing fire? Jimmy, you said I suck Ned dry? Oh, how wrong you are, mon ami. Unlike you with Simon on the weekend, catcher is one position I never play. I'd say Ned sucked me dry, but that would imply that he actually managed to get me wet in the first place. “OOOOOH!” Says the crowd in response to the dis. KRISTA Jamie, ask Ned who paid for the food on his table when we dated, ask Ned who put him through school when we dated, ask Ned who gave him a place to live while we dated, ask Ned why when I was meeting with my publisher for royalty payments, he was meeting with Ford because he's made no payments for twelve months. COACH There's no need to drag the man's good name through the mud by insinuating that he has bad credit! KRISTA But, Jimmy, if you want to see who's the true leech, feast your eyes on a mirror and get a good look before your ugliness cracks it. I've said this before, but it's worth repeating, there is not a single ounce of talent within the confines of your flabby body. You have no actual ability or skills of your own to do anything great or memorable. So like some kind of seedy predator, you prey upon those who do have the requisite talent but lack the requisite intelligence to know that you're full of shit. And when your charges do finally achieve something, you plant it into their heads that you, not their god given ability, had something to do with it. You are nothing but a glorified, legalized pimp. In any other profession, you're name wouldn't be worth the cheap JC Penny bought suit on your back, you'd be scorned as a contemptible villain, and would probably be facing years of a jail time. But in the land of pro wrestling where everything and everyone works in reverse, you're heralded as a brilliant mind and awarded with numerous title shots and accolades. Maybe Ned's too dumb to realize he's basically been turned into your ho or maybe he's too afraid to admit to himself. Either way, I'm done caring about the Handsome Hustler. Because I don't know him. I only know Ned Blanchard, and you, Jim Cornette, and this horrible sport of professional wrestling, killed him in front of my very eyes. I wish you nothing but bad luck, Jimmy. I hope your remaining days on this earth are spent in misery and in suffering. Goodnight, James. I wish you well. COLE Harsh words for a man who dearly deserves them. KRISTA Okay back to funny Krista. I'm sure you're all wondering exactly why I'm out here besides to kill time until those wrestlers who have storylines and feuds, and interesting angles and things I'll never get again because the company hates me, are ready to come out. Well, I'm out here for a squash match. While I know we have more squash on HeldDOWN then your grocery store's produce aisle, I promise that my squash will actually, gasp, be deliciously entertaining. MEL That's your cue to gasp, dudes. “GASP!” says the crowd. I mean they actually said the word gasp, they didn't just make the noise. KRISTA Thank you. Why will my match be entertaining? Because if you consider how piss poor everything else on this sinking ship of show is, then a skit with me burping [i]You're no Good[/i] would look like a recitation of [i]A Mid Summer Night's dream[/i] by Al Pacino in comparison. But it's also entertaining because my squash has a name, [i]Beat the unbeatable woman[/i]! And it also has the finest set the illegal immigrants I smuggled into the country can build. Take that, MinuteMen Border Patrol! All that makes this the single most entertaining match in HeldDOWN's short and depressing history. Unless this is being taped for some new b-show I was unaware of. In which case, I know I've been the victim of a considerable depush since I made the horrible mistake of returning, but I never thought it would get this bad. Well, at least my squash has a graphic. Show them the graphic! [IMG=http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y39/Portfree/unbeatablewomany.jpg] KRISTA Much like everything I've been involved with since I returned, that was terrible. I paid a grad student from USC seven hundred dollars for that. Well, I suppose I should explain the exact details of [i]Beat The Unbeatable Woman[/i]. So for those of you who seem to be of the short bus, window licking variety, I'm talking to you Coachman, get ready, cinch up those chinstraps, and try to wrap your feeble minds around this hot concept. COLE (fastening the chinstrap on his helmet) I've got mine extra tight! KRISTA Now seeing that we'll probably see The South Central Militia have a good match before we witness another OAOAST wrestler beat me, I've been forced to go outside of the company's usual cast of lower midcarders the glass ceiling forces me to fight, to get someone to wrestle. Thus [i]Beat the Unbeatable Woman[/i] evades the coathanger, escapes the demonic confines of the womb, and is born on national television! [i]Beat the Unbeatable Woman[/i] offers a chance for you, the average Joe, to come down from the overpriced seats and get into this safety hazard of a ring to wrestle me, and gain fifteen minutes of minuscule to moderate fame and acquire a modicum of self respect. Self respect I might add that will shortly be lost when you come home to an FBI raid, cameras from the evening news, and fresh accusations of cyber pedophilla from the district attorney. "LOL I'll pretend you said 18" indeed! MARV LOL I'll pretend you said don't drop the soap! KRISTA With that said, I shall work the marks by scanning the audience for a volunteer when in actuality my opponent has already been selected for me hours ago. The magic of pro wrestling! So who wants in on this pointless skit? (Despite what Krista just said, eager fans across the venue foist their arms into the air, praying that she'll select them.) KRISTA You're all still raising your hands even though I just told you this was all a farce and my opponent was predetermined. I'd like to punch you all in the face, but obviously I don't possess the time required to do such action. So, why don't you punch yourselves for me...You're actually doing it. Stop punching yourselves! (Marv and Mel prove their presence in this skit isn't totally pointless by cruising around the ring, scanning the typical assortment of bums, derelicts, delinquents, and vagabonds that make up an OAOAST audience) MEL (pointing to a woman(?) who looks exactly like John Leguizamo's character in [i]To Wong Foo, Thanks for everything Julie Newmar[/i]) Hey, Kris. How about this chick? KRISTA I don't wrestle women, and this is an exercise to reaffirm that men are property to me, not people. COACH I'll be your property! Pick me! (Krissy's baby blue eyes lock onto a particularly pathetic individual, and it's not Coach. This sad soul is bedecked in a Samoa Joe t-shirt that's ornamented with beer stains, and wears a pair of Pittsburgh Steelers sweatpants that sag low to reveal the mortifying golden forest of ass hair that pours from his sweat soaked BUTT crack.) KRISTA Honestly, I was going to fight some guy from Calgary. I think his name was Brent, Burt, Bret? Bret, that was it. What did he call himself? The Hitman? I don't know. I've never heard of him. And if I've never heard of him, how good can he be? This here feller looks like a fine critter! Sorry Hitman, you can hit the road! And you, my good fellow, can come on down! (The portly porker, with the assistance of few musclebound security guards, climbs over the guardrail to a tepid round of applause. Bursting with the energy, the man, who looks to be in his mid thirties, attempts to enter the venerated squared circle. Problematically, he encounters a great deal of difficulty in fitting his round body through the ring ropes. While the audience laughs at his misfortune, Krista shakes her head in sorrow and regret.) KRISTA Good lord. Change the channel, people. No good can come of this. I'd change the channel, but alas I have to live this nightmare. I'd squeeze the trigger, hit the power button, and put the whole world on mute. Hey, he got in the ring! Fantastic. Thoughts of suicide still present but are subsiding. Sir, how are you? If I looked like you, I'd be doing terrible. But, perhaps you haven't been able to look in mirror today, and have forgotten that your very visage reaffirms that there is no God, so tell me how are you? MAN (gobs of spit flying from his mouth as he speaks) DA KING IS TALKING! GO STEELERS! HELL YEAH, BABY! WOOF! WOOF! WOOF! KRISTA You, sir, sound like a gentlemen and a scholar! So, what's your name? It's not important. I'll call you Sweet Lou. Sweet Lou, I can tell from the gap in your yellow teeth big enough to ram a tractor through, the noticeable bald spot in your thinning hair, and your Samoa Joe t-shirt, that you, my good man, have quite the way with the ladies. Because nothing says Casanova like a fat Samoan with tits. So on this fine Thursday night, instead of taking a dip into your veritable swimming pool of gorgeous vagina, you've chosen to partake in man's favorite activity, watching other men (or men who look like women in Johnny Jax's case) lathered up in baby oil, grope each other, as they emit vaguely orgasmic grunts while participating in a staged athletic contest with not so subtle homoerotic overtones. SWEET LOU STEELERS! WHOO! WOOF! WOOF! “BOOOOOOO!” goes the audience, obviously not fans of the Steelers. MEL Dude, up your dosage. KRISTA Somehow this segment is even worse then I envisioned. It could be worse, I could be getting a MILF chant... SWEET LOU MILF! MILF! MILF! KRISTA Thank you for reminding me that I'm 34 years old. Hopefully I can one day repay you with a similar kindness, such as a repeatedly stabbing you in the throat. Anyway, Louis you've been given a chance of a lifetime. You're being asked to participate in the first ever, and if anyone around here has some common sense, the last ever [i]Beat the Unbeatable[/i] woman. When you return back to your job at Rite Aid, where you hit on the seventeen year old stock girl who's shirt rides up whenever she restocks the shelves, you can return to your pending sexual harassment lawsuit with pride and honor. And when the manager, who's banging your wife behind your back while your kid is forced to watch from the bathroom, fires you for snorting coke in the loading dock, you can hold your misshapen head high when you say “Screw you, man! I wrestled that Suzanne Summers chick up there on that them there TV! You don't fire me, son. I fire you. I'll suck you off for some smack.” SWEET LOU WOOF! WOOF! WOOF! KRISTA We all know who your favorite football team is, thanks to the fact that you have even less brain cells then Joe Paterno and thus are incapable of forming a semi-intelligent thought, but you've gotta tell me, Louie-Louie-oh no said we gotta go, who's your favorite wrassler? (Louis takes a moment to mull over this life altering query) SWEET LOU THE HANDSOME HUSTLER! “OOOOOOOH!” go the fans, who realize that Sweet Lou talked himself right into a sweet ass kicking. Gone is Krista's self deprecating comedic act. In it's place returns the all too familiar "angry at the world" attitude that's characterized her for so long. She explodes at Louis, who's too dense to comprehend why his face is about to be torn like meat within the jaws of a starved canine. His legs are ripped from under him, and he's sent to the mat where he's quickly mounted by the bloodthirsty woman. Growling, Krista scores with brutal, crowd popping punches to the overmatched pugilist's noggin. A picturesque melody of right crosses and left hooks sever the poor fellow's pasty white skin. Finally the referee decides he's seen enough barbarity for one evening and calls for the bell while Sweet Lou is still able to eat food without the aid of a straw. BUFFER Your winner, improving her record to a stunning thirty one wins and three losses, the Unbeatable Woman, Krista Isadora Duncan! Feeling a tinge of sympathy for Sweet Lou, or what remains of Sweet Lou, the Boiz make an attempt to remove Kris from her prey. After a hellacious effort, they manage to separate her from her battered enemy. Mel holds her by the waist, making her swear on her grave that she won't try anything if he lets her go free. Marv tries to talk her down, no small task thanks to her stubborn and perpetually volatile personality. Letting a cooler head prevail, Krista passionately promises the twins that she'll conduct herself like a resonable woman. Although he doesn't entirely believe her, Mel timidly breaks his grip. Surprisingly, Krista doesn't affirm his understandable fears, and leaves the ring without further incident. COACH Hey, Caboose, I noticed you were pretty quiet. I guess I should hit you with a bat more often, huh? What do you think about renaming Sofa Central, Coach Central. And you know what else, I want to sit in the center, because I am the center piece that holds this entire show together.

lol! IT IS NOW! I HAVE EDITIED IT IN! hugs?

Sooooooooo, Foshi's and Brickston's music got edited in, along with Leon Rodez's 2nd (Jungle Boogie), The Usual Suspect's and Vitamin X's (bitchin song by the way. Big Tymers FTW)

Popick's is in thurrr now (or what I think is Popick's), so is Christian Wright's for all ya'll Scott Weiland fans.

Q:Who do we send this to, again? A: KingPK Hooray knowledge!

GPX is dunzo. I have The Rockas' song somewhere, I just need to find it. Edit: The Rockers theme is ready for your downloadin' pleasure, kids.

Congrats on your improved lot in life! Can I have some money?

I have nothing constructive to add, except that this is a really good match, Alf. Really fast paced, never a dull moment. Hooray match!

from some city.

That los diablos match ain't happening, kids. Those of you looking forward to homoerotic hijinks look elsewhere. Like Zack Malibu's bedroom. YESSSUH! Tony, I'm out of town, getting my "premarital sex with women who will only give me the time of day because they've been liquored up real good" on, but you can edit whatever you like. Except the ending. If you do that, you gotta die. Sorry, mang. That's just how it do, babe. Peace n love, ya'll. The emotionally heavy lyrics of [i]Don't believe the hype[/i] by hip-hop legends Public Enemy come through the arena speakers and into your living room. The entrance doors spread apart, revealing the trio that comes straight out of the mean streets of Compton, the South Central Militia BUFFER Ladies and gentlemen the following match is scheduled for one fall with a televised time limit of sixty minutes. Coming to the ring at this time, accompanied by the foxiest honey in South Central L.A....from South Central Los Angeles, representing Jim Cornette Enterprises, at a combined weight of 535 pounds...the SOUTH CENTRAL MILITIA! Clad in black leather pants, lined with rhinestones down the legs, and a tight black halter top, Shyanne is a model of feminine perfection. The male members of the SCM stroll to the ring, looking like they were ripped straight out of a Bow-Wow video. Certainly these are no pretty wrestlers dressed as studio gangsters. These, as Eazy E would sing, are real muthafuckin g's. And BUTT ugly ones at that! The dangerous men are one to be wary of, and fans in the front rows scatter backwards unwilling to incur their indiscriminant wrath. Vincent "Whitey" Santana and Marcellus "One-Eye" Wallace slide into the battle field, one again succeeding in frightening poor Micheal Buffer. CABOOSE I'm guessing someone in the front office got a hold of Alix's pal Mary Jane (wink wink) and thought hey I bet a COD/SCM would rock, dudes! Far out! COACH How wrong you are, my purposeless amigo. Sit tight everyone, for Coach, wrestling's greatest orator will tell why this is a match with rich with history and backstory. The SCM after floundering in obscurity for the better part of a year came under the umbrella of Jim Cornette Enterprises. Within in this umbrella exist the tag team named The Midnight Express. This tag team holds the distinction of being one of only three teams to ever pin Chicks Over Dicks. Within the Express, exists a man called Ned Blanchard. Ned happens to be the estranged father of a child named Maya Olivia Myrick, who's mother happens to be Krista Tyler Myrick. Or as you rubes call her, Krista Isadora Duncan. But it gets better. The Midnight Express and The South Central Militia are being held responsible for injuring Holly-Wood. Holly happens to be the sister of the man Alix was slated to marry, Northstar. Currently Holly dates Logan Mann of The Heavenly Rockers. But before The Heavenly Rockers had eyes for Holly, their focus was on Chicks Over Dicks. A failed attempt at making the girls their groupies, saw the HR's forced into being their servants. Right now The Rocker's have an issue with The SCM as well as the NNMX. The NNMX, allies of the SCM, are embroiled in a beef with The Usual Suspects consisting of Leon Rodez and Zack Malibu. Leon is Alix's boyfriend. While Zack and Alix absolutely despise each other. Did that make sense? CABOOSE No. The opening guitar strands of pop sensation Lindsay Lohan's cover of [i]Edge of Seventeen[/i] play, as a gorgeous [color=red][b]red pyro[/color][/b] fountain springs forth from the stage. It meets with an equally lovely [color=#ff3366 ][b]pink[/color][/b] pyro waterfall, cascading from the ceiling. As the drum roll of the song kicks up, both the pyrotechnics dissipate, replaced by a booming [color=#ffff33][b]gold[/color][/b] explosion that engulfs the entire stage! I know that's the third time I used that entrance word for word. I don't care. Suck my BUTT, OAOAST. Suck it and love it every hot minute of it, you naughty, naughty sluts. Through the unhealthy amount of smoke and harsh florescent lights emerges the OAOAST's sweethearts, Chicks Over Dicks! The girls are recipients of a gargantuan pop from every one of the spectators. Alix jerks her body back and forth, flinging her arm in the air to the beat of the pop tune. Krista downs a swig of Jack Daniels, and hurls the empty bottle over her shoulder, where it hits a stagehand in the face and pokes out one of his eyes. C'est la vie, mon ami! BUFFER And the opponents...first from Los Angeles, Californ-i-a, she is the 2005 OAOAST Babe of the year, and former tag team champion, ALIX MARIA SPEZIA!! And her partner from Tinseltown, Los Angeles California, she is the author of the New York Times bestseller [i]Soul of a Womyn[/i], and star of the [i]Fit with Kid[/i] line of exercise videos. She is...KRISTA ISADORA DUNCAN. Together they form CHICKS OVER DICKS! Alix, cheerfully flouncing down the ramp, wears a checkered pattern hot pants matched excellently with a long sleeve zipper front crop top. Krista wears shimmering [color=#ffff33][b]gold[/color][/b] leather pants, and a [color=#ffff33][b]gold[/color][/b]halter top with a deep plunging neckline. The women roll into the squared circle to face one of the largest units they've ever encountered. COLE Both of these squads hail from Los Angeles, but the similarities of the parts of LA they come from are few. The SCM are based in South Central LA, the heartland of the city's infamous street gangs, boasting memberships that go into six digits. In South Central crime is rampant and hope is scarce. Alix and Krista come from the land of Mercedes, celebrities, high fashion, wild parties, ten million dollar homes, and lot of plastic surgeons, Beverly Hills for Alix and West Hollywood for Krista. COACH Is this wrestling's social commentary of the disparity between the classes in Southern California? Who will prevail tonight? The cold blooded white gang banger, and his convicted felon partner from Watts? Or the rich white girls from West LA? The outcome seems to be shrouded in the city's famous smog, because I can't see a winner! [b]DING DING DING[/b] The sound of the bell leads Santana to develop a fiendish expression, as the Great White smells the blood in the OAOAST waters. Baring his platinum fangs, he invites Alix in for a lockup. Always the naive one, Alix stupidly accepts the invite. Shunning the lockup, his fist quickly devour his gullible victim with three straight left hooks. Already overwhelmed by this mighty antagonist, Spezia is about to topple over like a house of cards. But the predator keeps her upright, grabbing onto her chestnut colored hair, as he continues to batter her with his fists. Finally he ends his punch parade, coiling his gargantuan arms around her waist like twin pythons. From there he roughly jerks Alix into the air, holding her horizontally. After fifteen seconds passes he nonchalantly drops her frame across his knee for a pendulum back breaker. COLE Well, Chicks Over Dicks refused an invitation to the Anderson Cup. On the surface that seems crazy, but as we've come to learn what seems crazy with these two often turns out to be rather beneficial. Grounded, Alix scuttles away from the loathsome hooligan. She utilizes the cables to pull herself up, but is quickly backed into a neutral corner by her unrelenting pursuer. Lashing forward he cracks her in the kidneys with a vile knee. Santana strolls back, taking his sweet time to measure the defenseless grappler. He lurches towards her, smashing a nasty forearm across her forehead, The fans remain firmly planted on Alix's side despite her poor showing thus far. Taking hold of her arm, Santana hurls her to the opposite corner with a whip. Shockingly Alix has the wits about her to ascend to the top rope and attack an arriving Whitey with a gracefully executed springboard clothesline. Sadly the move does barely a hint of damage to the heartless hoodlum. In fact it merely stokes his blazing fire. He takes this unrestrained aggression out on Alix's chest with a single barbaric knife edge chop. The sting of the grotesque blow knocks Alix all the way to the corner, where she crumples to the mat. Even in her clouded state, Alix is smart enough to keep her feet underneath the ropes, making certain she can't be pinned. CABOOSE Did you see that chop by Vincent Santana? He's a hard hitter. That's why Jim Cornette likes these guys. Gritting her teeth, Alix pulls herself to her feet. Upon standing, she spots a clothesline that possess the lethality and gruesomeness of a French Revolution guillotine heading her way. Unlike Marie Antoinette, Alix sidesteps a dastardly beheading, letting the turnbuckle take the brunt of Vince's lariat. The feisty grappler jumps to the third rope and springboards off with a crowd popping spinning wheel kick. While the move fails to drop Vinny, it does leave him dazed. The relative success leads her to try a variation, a majestic springboard back heel kick! Already off balance, a surprised Vincent is dropped to the mat! “LET'S GO ALIX! LET'S GO ALIX! Alix's heart sinks to the pit of her stomach as she watches Santana stand up, displaying no ill effects from her springboard combo. With great determination she slides into him for a wheelbarrow setup. Not holding the greatest of wrestling knowledge, Santana hasn't a clue what to do. As such Alix effortlessly shoots her body up, and grabs the South Central beast in a headlock, then drops forward for a successful bulldog! Cussing loudly, One Eye slams the turnbuckle pad in frustration with his partner's gross incompetence. CABOOSE One-Eye getting a bit angry over there. He's trying to light a fire under Vince's BUTT. At Krista's urgent request, Alix journeys to her corner and makes the tag. Krista's entrance into the contest is met with hearty cheer from those in attendance. After coming into the ring, the blonde bombshell leaps onto Santana for an ill advised monkey flip. Who knows what would make a holder of two masters degrees think she can monkey flip someone who can probably bench press twice her weight. Possibly the liquor? As you can probably guess her strategy doesn't work. Treating her body with all the he'd respect he'd show a common ant, Vince grabs her long, smooth, tanned legs, and runs to the edge of the ring, attempting to give her a modified running over the ropes powerbomb. Krissy barely wards off a catastrophic plunge to the outside when she sits on the top cable and grabs onto it for dear life. The fact that Krista isn't being wheeled out of the arena in a stretcher boils the ex-convict's blood. Seeing red, he heads directly for her gorgeous face with a lariat! However, KID hinders this ferocious effort, and wraps her muscular legs around his thick neck. In one blink and it's over motion she sends the gladiator tumbling to the mats with a hurricanrana! Santana lands knee first, howling in pain the second he slams into the thin black pads. One-Eye, like the cheering crowd, has little sympathy for his ally's plight, and rudely orders him to get up and get to work. Krista, who managed to pull herself back into the ring, jumps to the top rope. Amazing every last person in the arena and ignoring the plea's of her health insurance provider, Krista hurls good judgment to the wind, and launches herself at Vince with a dazzling corkscrew moonsault press. Fan's across the globe hold their collective breath out of realistic fear that she might miss her mark. But she lands squarely on the big man, leading to a round of “K-I-D!” chants! COLE Marcellus looks like he's about to blow! Krista has nary a moment to bask in the crowd's adoration as the cold blooded knockout, Shyanne, is preparing to lower the boom on her. Snarling, Shyanne grabs a chunk of Kris' golden locks and harshly pulls her off Vince. And we have a.....CATFIGHT! Krissy powerfully spears the amazon to the floor. They roll around on the mat, tossing the fans' and Coach's hormones into overdrive, as they rip at each other's tight fitting tops. Krista eventually takes the cat out of the equation and turns it into an all out fight, as she rains down a flurry of murderous closed fists! Fortunately for the SCM, a recovered Vince lunges at Krista, tackling her off Shyanne and ramming her into ring apron! Taking advantage of Krista's prone position, Whitey wallops her with fists aimed directly at her ribcage. She frantically tries to shield herself from the gruesome blows. However there exists little in the way of defense against these punches that explode pain across her body as they land in rapid succession. At the request of Billy Silverman, who's getting mercilessly chewed out by Alix about the cheap tactics and his poor comb over, Santana rolls Krista back into the squared circle. “LET'S GO KRISTA! LET'S GO KRISTA!” scream the spectators Krista rises, having some difficulty breathing thanks to the onslaught of punches aimed at her ribs. The high flying diva meets her returning assailant with a melody of chops and forearms. The strikes, thrown as hard as Krista's body will allow, barely register in Vince's mind, causing as much anguish as a mere mosquito bite. Sporting an understandable look of alarm, Krista dashes to the ropes. Saying a little prayer to whatever deity will listen, Izzy flings herself at her rival with a body splash. Vince latches onto her slender hips and easily shoots her into the sky, joyfully planning to lariat her into oblivion on her descent. Forced to think quickly, lest she wind up in the second row, Krista shifts her body horizontally, grabbing hold of Vince's large cranium for a bulldog. However the thuggish lout kills what little momentum she has, reversing her attack into an across the knees rib crusher! “OOOOOOH!” goes the crowd, sympathizing with Kris' harrowing ordeal. Krista lies on the sweat stained mat, clutching her piqued ribs, her hair like rays of sunshine cloaking her expression of sorrow. Santana casually strolls to his corner, and gives a tag to the fresh One Eye. The gold toothed superstar enters the bout and scoops up beleaguered Krista, whipping her across the ring to a neutral corner. Before the horrific collision with the pads can slump her to the mat, One Eye impales Krista with a furious running s houlder block to the ribs. Grimacing, Izzy begins to move away, seeking to establish much needed distance between herself and the fearsome beast. It's to no avail as Marcellus holds her in place, repeatedly lodging disgusting stomps into her toned stomach. COACH From what I understand the South Central Militia have accepted their Anderson Cup invitation. I don't know who they'll face, but as long as they keep bringing Shyanne to the ring, I hope they make it all the way to the finals! Leading her by the hair, Marcellus pulls Krista to the center of the ring. Wallace beams with despicable pride as he assess the reprehensible damage he and his partner have wrought. The master brawler whips a forearm into Krista's afflicted ribs. From there he methodically works over her midsection with a savage mixture of punches and elbow strikes, all aimed with pinpoint precision. Unable to withstand the intense pain Krista sinks to her knee, but still manages to muster the vigor to fire a defiant punch to Wallace's stomach. The distressed crowd prepares to raise their mood by cheering a triumphant comeback. But Marcellus crushes all jubilation with a firm elbow to the gorgeous lady's face. The 6'2 grappler backs off, talking smack to Alix, who isn't afraid to talk it right back. After ceasing his jawing, One Eye bolts forward, raking his black boot across the side of Kris' head, pushing her to the mat. He covers her for a pin, his stunning lack of wrestling knowledge being the reason he does not hook the leg. 1 2 KICK OUT! “YEAAAAAH!” “Come on, Krista!” Alix yells, the hyper flower child beating her hands against the turnbuckle. Appearing a tad flustered by his fellow West Coaster's resilience, Marcy gets to his feet, dragging Krista along with him. His fists act as a hell spawned paint brush, painting black and blue across her beige canvas. Rather then sensibly stick with what works, Wallace gets a notion that it might be a swell idea to diversify his moveset, which happens to be shorter then Danny Devito. Thus he whips Krista to the cables, and waits for his prey to return so he can rearrange her face with a big boot. Problematically he foolishly whips the best selling author to the ropes nearest COD's corner. Alix's, who's been so disheartened by the bout's proceedings, can scarcely believe her onyx eyes. It's as if Krista's arrival is a glorious mirage, too magnificent to be true. Three pinches of her thigh shows Alix, now bursting with excitement, that this potentially cataclysmic slip is as real as the shoes on her feet. Bubbling with delight, she makes the blind tag with her elder “sister”. Rebounding off the ropes, Krista ducks under Marcellus' telegraphed big boot effort. But that avoidance is the least of his worries, as the malefactor has Alix barreling into him with a springboard leg lariat! Wallace is cracked flush in the jaw by her attack! On the outside, Shyanne gulps in revulsion at the turning of the tide “LET'S GO ALIX! LET'S GO ALIX!” Urged on by her fans, Alix presses the fight against the hip hop goliath. She drags Moe into a knuckle lock, which looks to play right into his monstrous strength advantage. But crafty Alix uses her speed to keep the flow of the match in her corner. She pulls him down ever so slightly, then flips over him, breaking the knuckle lock so she can drag him down with a modified sunset flip! Screeching jeers travel through the arena, as the foxy Shyanne has Silverman distracted on the ring apron, preventing a pin from being counted. COLE Come on, somebody get her down! COACH Get her down so she can go down. On the Coach that is. Preferring to focus on the task at hand as opposed to the lackluster officiating, The SoCal diva tries to horsewhip her foot across the SoCal's thug's pug ugly face with a superkick. But rather then endure a potential broke nose in addition to the teeth she just knocked out, Marcy takes the cowards way out, diving to his corner like a running back into the endzone to tag in Vincent “Whitey” Santana. Vince, who had no expectations of being brought into the match, glares at Marcy as if he has gone completely out of his mind. Chants of “Alix” ring throughout the arena, as Vinny grimly saunters into the squared circle once again. He sprints at Alix at full speed, extending his imposing body into it's full six feet and four inches for a lethal flying shoulder tackle! Able to see the move coming miles away, Alix meets him in the sky and crooks her arm around his neck. All she does is keep her hold tight, while gravity does the work of plummeting them to the mat with a hellish implant DDT! As the fans cheer her on, the plucky diva rolls on top of the fuzzy headed gangster for a pin. CROWD 1 CROWD 2 Shyanne is back on the ring apron, again diverting Billy Silverman from his duties as an official! Letting the crowd take up the task of insulting Shyanne, Alix dashes at Santana, bounding off his knee to drive her boot towards his face with the forever en vogue Shining Wizard. However Whitey, in desperation, throws up his muscular forearms, successfully deflecting the move! Alix stutters backwards, teetering off-balance. Before her brain can formulate another mode of attack, she has to deal with a rapidly approaching leaping side kick from Whitey! She regains her bearings just in time to dodge the maneuverer. In a logic defying sequence, Alix (who is 5'7) aims a running clothesline at Santana's (who is 6'4) head, but Whitey ducks(!) bellow it. Throw your brain out the window! As Vince spins around to keep his vision on the speedy wrestler, Alix is scaling up to the top rope and comes shooting back to take him out with a fantastic cross bodyblock! Miss Spezia hooks the leg for da pin. 1 2 Shyanne has again found her way to the apron. And Billy Silverman continues to be drawn to the tempting enchantress at the expense of the job he's being paid to do. “Dude, she's not even [i]that[/i] hot!” Alix moans, at her wits end with Silverman and Shyanne's antics. “I'll take you down Crenshaw sometime! We can drive up to Oakland and there's a whole bunch of chicks who look like that! Just count the pin! Arghh! This sucks! This sucks! I...” With a hard shove Santana rudely pushes the ranting and raving diva to the corner posts. Although caught entirely by surprise, she manages to put her left boot on the second turnbuckle, preventing a head on hit with the padded steel. Santana comes at her like a tornado with a running discus punch! Because of the telegraphed nature of the move, Alix encounters no trouble rolling underneath the twirling assault. She hops up, and takes off to the ropes before Whitey can plant his greasy mits on her. Aggravatingly, she rebounds into a tilt-a-whirl slam from Vinny! However Alix combats the move with an agile spinning head scissors, drawing a huge pop from the relieved fans! COLE That was a close call! Riddled dizzy, Santana stands upright, and catches a disturbing glimpse of Alix rolling towards him like some kind of sonic the hedgehog impersonator. Unable to predict what she's planning on doing, his only method of protection is to assume a useless defensive crouch. Alix uncoils her body, springs up, grabs the side of his head and drops knees first to the mat, pasting him with a wicked jaw breaker! Vincent timbers over with the grace and force of a chopped down redwood. Against her better judgment, Alix tries for a pin, hoping against hope that Silverman's infatuation with Shyanne has passed. 1 2 You know what happened. Shyanne+Silverman=:wub: Alix=:wacko: Unable to bear the vexation, despondent Alix slinks to the corner where she makes the tag to Krista. Kris gives Al a comforting pat on the back, before waging war with the Vin man. Santana greets her rearrival with a hail marry haymaker that catches nothing but the cool arena air, due to Krissy's side step. Wrapping her arms around his knees, she drops him to the mat with a double leg takedown. Still in control of his tree trunk sized legs, Krista exerts every last effort to turn him over for a painful Boston Crab. Frustratingly, his sheer size gives her great difficulty in applying the hold. Santana kicks her off, providing himself with valuable space to rise unhindered. He follows Krista with a boot to the midsection the SCM had targeted earlier. Unwilling to be put through that miserable tribulation once more, Krista catches his foot, grins as she shakes her head, then violently pushes his shoe to the mat, knocking him off balance. Moving with great speed, she doubles the heathen over with a spinning side kick to his breadbasket, a bitter taste of his own medicine. She curves her arm around his neck, takes to the air, and whirls their bodies around like a dervish for a tornado DDT! Too engrossed in their elation, both the audience and COD fail to notice that Whitey managed to tag Vince during his merry-go-round like spin. 'LET'S GO KRISTA! LET'S GO KRISTA!” chant the crowd. COLE I don't think SCM wants to get into a wrestling match COD. Have Vincent or Marcellus even used a wrestling move all match? COACH I'd like to get in a wrestling match with COD. Man, that wasn't even funny. I'm losing my touch, guys! One-Eye's entrance into the bout catches Krista completely off guard. Consequently he meets minimal resistance as he foists her up into a press slam position. A stark sense of fear pollutes Krista's visage, as she can only imagine the type of fatal fall that inevitably awaits her. Wallace commits the error of delaying the move. This is a foolish taunt attempt that allows Alix to sneak into the ring and chop block him! Much to the fan's glee and his increasing dismay, Wallace's knee buckles under him and Krista falls onto him for a lateral press! The sequence of Shyanne diverting Silverman with her double d's wearyingly continues, generating more boos from the audience. Winds ripped from her sails, Alix barley has the energy to throw even a small temper tantrum, and simply coasts back to the apron. Wallace has recovered to a doubled over position, appearing winded from the quickened pace of the fight. Krista clasps her arm around his neck for a side headlock. Her sly hope is that he'll attempt to run her to the ring ropes, where she take to the air and can crack his neck across the cable. Like a genie in the bottle, the big man grants her wish, rumbling across the ring, preparing to utilize the significant give of the ropes to push her off. But right before he can shred her vice grip, she executes her master plan, going airborne! Her ascent drags an anxious One Eye forward, but the top cable slices his momentum, lodging itself into his throat! As the fan's pop for the innovative strike, Marcellus rockets backwards, tending to his neck, while emitting audible squeals of misery! CABOOSE That's one of the worst things that can happened to you in a wrestling ring. The ropes can be great friends, but they can make horrible enemies. “C-O-D! C-O-D! C-O-D!” The beloved heroine bolts across the ring. She bounces back towards Marcy, but as opposed to running at the floored superstar, she gracefully cartwheels at him, extending her body into body splash on her return. Acting out of despondency and a strong desire not get tongue-lashed by Ned Blanchard for losing to his old flame, Wallace sucks his knees into his chest! Krista spots the simple counter, but has no way of evading it, and all she can do is clinch up for the impact of her flat stomach hitting his rough knees. CRAAACK! Although expected, the blow inflicts considerable pain, thanks to the earlier marring of her midsection. “Come on, Krissy! You can do eeeeeet!” Alix shouts, channeling Rob Schnider's character from the [i]Water Boy[/i] COACH Come on, Krissy! You can do, meeeeeeee! As Krista is left on the mat struggling to regain her depleted breath, Marcellus rolls to the SCM base and makes a tag to Vinny Santana. While the SCM are busy discussing strategy(what strategy two people who know two moves between them can formulate is beyond me), the former fitness model is escalating to the top rope, plotting to fling her curvaceous body across the ring with moonsault. The excited roar of the pro-COD crowd betrays Izzy's position, altering Santana to her whereabouts. He thunders to her, blasting her in the back with a forearm before Alix can yelp a warning! With his opposer placed in a susceptible spot, Santana climbs to the top, bashing her back with punches, keeping her in peril. As he entangles her within a inverted face lock, Santana flashes a smile, his gaudy platinum teeth glistening under the arena lights. Mark 12/29/2005 on your calendar, kids, for it is a spectacular moment in wrestling history! It is the day the SCM did a move you couldn't learn within fifteen minutes at the beginners class at your local wrestling school. Santana obliterates KID with an awe inspiring top rope inverted DDT! As the ring vibrates from the colossal impact, Whitey attempts what he and Marcy are sure will be a match ending pinfall... SHYANNE 1 SHYANNE 2 KICK OUT! Seeking to rally Krista, Alix flashes back to her cheerleading days in high school, “Gimme a K!” “K!” goes the crowd. “Gimme an R!” “R!” “Gimmie a...uh...y? No that's not right. Gimme a 15! No that's a number. Uh, just gimmie an ISTA!” “ISTA!” “Yay, Krissy!” shouts Alix. Encouraged by Alix's air headed but well meaning show of support, Krista summons the strength and desire to continue her rather lopsided contention with The Militia. She jumps to her feet, but Santana is on her with the speed of a cheetah and the ferocity of a mountain lion. He peppers her with an unwavering barrage of punches aimed at her toned abdomen and her face. Even as her neck snaps back like a ball bouncing off a court, Whitey's thickset legs are planting his feet into the mat, setting up for a discus punch that could shatter every bone in her face if it connected. At the last possible second she bends underneath his arm, then impressively runs up Whitey's chest to deliver a back flip heel kick to the face that collapses him to the canvas. The fans begin to loudly bleat her name, but she hasn't a second to acknowledge their adoration, as her attacker is undeterred. Santana comes straight for her head, wielding a lariat like a daunting sword. Exhibiting amazing speed, Krista back flips away from the deathly strike. CABOOSE Vincent Santana doing the right thing by bringing this match back to a brawl. Krista attempts an Irish whip. That proves maddeningly unsuccessful, as Vince's brute strength conquers her attempt, reversing her into the ropes! On the rebound, Ford tries to snap her neck with a big boot! But the savvy starlet rolls underneath it, hops up and keeps on chugging. After hitting the cables, she zips towards him, planning on turning him inside out with an enziguiri! However she doesn't even get the chance to extend her body as Santana launches her overhead with a back body drop! White hot pain cut across her bones upon impact, as heavyhearted Alix lets loose a sympathetic cry. COACH The amount of damage done on the back body drop all depends on the height of who delivered. At 6'4, Vince can get his opponents high in the air. Miserable agony ripping apart her body, Krista curls into a fetal position, in a pitiable effort to protect herself. With swimming ease, Vinny bends over and pulls her upright, lifting her into an elementary bear hug. His body feels like solid steel, lacking a single inch of give in it. As the lummox tightens his squeeze, he crushes the breath right out off her. Through the pulsating pain, and the sweat clinging her clothes to her body, Krista recognizes that she either must fight her way out of the deadly submission or risk succumbing to a chilling blackness. She frenziedly thrashes against his clutches like a damsel in distress, blonde hair flailing every which way, whipping Vinny in the face. Yet despite the spirited effort Santana's death grip refuses to disintegrate. Krista holds her arms in the air, and looks to the sky with exhausted eyes, as if she's calling on some higher power to work a miracle. CABOOSE Krista's in trouble. It's so hard to break a man that size's hold. It's even harder when you're her size. You can't deny her heart and her stubbornness. But I think it's just a matter of time before she passes out. What a win it would be for the South Central Militia. COLE They'd certainly head into the Anderson Cup with their confidence level high. But let's not count Krista out yet, Caboose. “LET'S GO KRISTA! LET'S GO KRISTA!” chant the fans, aided by Alix's pounding of the turnbuckle. Krista's given a gift from Buddha, as the substantial amount of sweat residing on her svelte frame actually causes her to slip from his embrace. But there's no light at the end of her joyless tunnel, as Whitey corrals her into a headlock. His dastardly intention is to basically choke the daylights out of her. Exhibiting some wrestling knowledge, he keeps his bulky weight on her shoulder's. Krista pops the fans, by planting stiff punches to his kidneys. She delivers enough strikes that the sheer pain eventually requires him to quit riding her shoulders. Having acquired some delicious leverage, Krista rises fully upright, feeling his clutch slowly fading. With the crowd singing her name, she exerts a monumental effort to head to the corner and free herself from her captor! It's no small task considering she has an ill tempered two hundred seventy-two pound passenger on her back, but the venerated wrestler reaches the corner and falls to her side. Santana is taken by surprise, and can't even get in arm in defense as he trips over her body and falls face first into the second turnbuckle! COACH Look at Shyanne! Look how mad she is. Come on over here, baby. Let the Coach comfort you. Right hand smacking the top rope, feet stomping the apron, Alix energetically pleads for her partner to come and tag her! The capacity crowd seconds that request, belting out a full throated rallying cry for the downed heroine. Krista slogs to her corner, moving like the ring was covered in three feet of mud. Vince slides to the SCM corner and applies a tag to One-Eye, which receives little fanfare. Wallace hustles towards Krista, understanding a tag to Alix could send his crew's hopes of winning up in multicolored flames. He latches onto Krista golden boot, as the crowd cranks their noise level up even further. Bursting through this thuggish roadblock, KID stands up and brilliantly back flips her way out of his grasp! Upon landing she makes a much needed, much requested tag, to the animated Alix Maria Spezia! The arena is shrouded in cheers from the thrilled audience! COLE Here comes Alix! Fueled by adrenaline and lots of illegal narcotics, Alix springboards into the melee! One-Eye has a lariat waiting to knock her into the Ice Age, but she stays in the '05 , slipping underneath it! The misfire clumsily totters Marcy forward, leaving his back exposed to a gorgeous dropsault from Alix! The graceful lady lands on her feet, while he suffers a blunderous throat first fall to the second cable, hollering and cussing on his way down! Given a shout of approval from the fans, Alix does a dance similar to what you might see a loaded with margaritas middle aged white woman do at Applebys when [i]You dropped the bomb on me[/i] plays on the restaurant's speakers. Marcellus' problems continue to mount as Alix runs ropes, comes back and drives her body weight across his spine, taking a page out of her precious Lee-Lee's book with a CALL THAT BITCH BOJANGLES!!!! “LET'S GO ALIX! LET'S GO ALIX!” Out of the corner of her eye Spezia spots a worn down Santana lumbering towards her. She takes to the top rope then hurls herself at him with a lionsault press! In spite of his haggard state, he's able to catch the super popular star on his shoulder! On the outside, Shyanne directs traffic, gruffly barking at Vince to drive her into the turnbuckle post! Making his wish her command, he rumbles to the corner! The sugary brunette kicks her legs against his back as if she was a innocent lass being kidnaped by a nefarious Wild West villain. Annoying the SCM, Alix slides off Vince's back and lands solidly on her boots! Said boots dropkick him in the upper back, smashing his flabby tummy into the corner posts! “KILL WHITEY?” She asks the fans, pointing to Vinny. “KILL WHITEY! KILL WHITEY! KILL WHITEY!” chants the audience. Groggily turning around, Vinny stammers into another one of Alix's famed dropsaults! As the drop portion propels Santana to the corner, the 'sault portion careens her into an oncoming Wallace! The warriors collapse to mat, as the crowd is at a fever pitch! Although surprised to be on top of One-Eye, Alix quickly gathers her thoughts and hooks the leg, maaaaaaaan. CROWD 1 CROWD 2 What a surprise! Shyanne has retaken her spot on the apron and in Silverman's fluttering heart! “BOOOOOO!” “OH HELL NAW! BITCH, YOU DONE DID IT NOW!” Alix proclaims. Steam rolling out of of every pore in her body, a huffing and puffing Alix makes her way to the detestable harpy! As the spectators howl in anticipation for the encounter between the LA based ladies, Ally Cat swats Billy Silverman aside. Festering with rage, Shyanne tries to club Alix with her forearm! But Ally blocks the strike, then grabs Shyanne's thick black locks! Shyanne furiously fights to break free, worried that she's about to get shoved to the floor. But quirky Alix unexpectedly deals with the meddlesome valet by planting her bubblegum pink lips onto Shyanne's for a spicy [color=red][b]kiss[/color][/b]! Flailing her arms like a mad woman, Shyanne is downright mortified at Alix's raunchy round of tonsil hockey. Those fans, who haven't already whipped out the Johnson&Johnson and the box of Kleenex, lewdly hoot and holler their approval for the titillating lip lock! I'm out of adjectives so I'll hand it to you, Coach. COACH :o Uh-huh. Well, Marcellus doesn't particularly have a problem with Alix kissing Shyanne, but if she's gonna put her lips on the baddest ho in his stable, she's gotta show him the money first. Thus Marcellus, like the G that he is, keeps his pimp hand strong by speeding at Alix with another clothesline! Thanks to Krista's shouts of “Quit queerbaiting and turn around, doofus!”, Alix is able to dive out of the away! Sporting a look of abject horror, One Eye can't put the brakes on in time, and his gargantuan arm connects with his sibling, shooting her off the apron and out of this contest! COLE Oh my! COACH Hey! Marcellus, why not just the magic happen, my brother? If it's money you wanted, it's money I got! I stole it from Caboose! While the fans go absolutely nuts over the boo-boo, Marcy slowly inches away with the Steve Urkel “Did I do thaaaaat?” look on his face. His attention is soon yanked away from his wounded sister and moved to Alix, who's pulling him down for a victory roll! CROWD 1 CROWD 2 KICK OUT!! “BULLSHIT! BULLSHIT! BULLSHIT!” chants the audience, who think that was a clear three. Wallace gets to his feet quickly, hectically trying to assume the upper hand. He tosses the 200th clothesline of the match at her. Ally Cat catches his attacking arm, then bends him backwards, whamming him back first onto her knee! Rather then let him roll away to lick his smarting wounds, she crooks his left arm around her neck, and bends down so she can grab onto the inside of his left knee. With the fans wondering what he has in store, she kicks left leg back, swings their bodies backwards and drops him neck first onto the mat with the gonorrhea(I swear I didn't make that name up!)! COACH THE EMBASSY FOREVA! EH! Unfortunately Ally can't attempt the pin, as she must thwart a restored Santana, who's closing in on her with a double handed strike! The attack carries the risk of pulping her entire face if it hits! So Alix sidesteps it, making sure to hook her arm around his as she avoids it. Ally drapes her arm around his chest, then nose-dives backwards, crunching his neck with a modified side Russian leg sweep! CABOOSE That looked a lot more painful then any leg sweep I've ever taken in my career. COACH Caboose, you forgot to put the word “awful” in front of career. Despite the crowd already in a celebratory mood, One Eye hasn't quite thrown in the towel yet. He pushes up, forcing himself upright. Alix doesn't bother to try and keep him down, instead running the ropes. On the rebound she slides through the gap in his legs. After popping up, she drops him to a knee with a side kick to the stomach the exact second he turns to her face her. Moving at frighteningly fast pace, she hits the ropes once more, returning to mutilate his already ugly face with a basement running dropkick! “OOOOOH” goes the audience, as blood begins to seep out of Marcellus' nose. Ally signals to Krista that she wants a double team, and Krista is more then happy oblige! As Krista mysteriously stays on the ring apron, Alix speedily moves to the top rope. She leaves as quickly as she arrived, leaping off and landing on Krista's shoulders! For a moment it look like she might hurricanrana Kris into the ring. But Alix actually uses her partner as a launch pad, and soars her body at Marcellus with a stunning corkscrew moonsault! She connects perfectly, and the crowd screams their approval for the incredible and innovative move! Silverman counts the pin! CROWD 1 CROWD 2 CROWD 3!!! The fans leap up in excitement, as Buffer stands up to make the final announcement. BUFFER Your winners...CHICKS OVER DICKS! [b]”YEAAAAAAA!”[/B] As their theme music returns to the sound system, the girls exchange hugs and high fives for their hard fought victory. Silverman goes to check on his supa fine honey, Shyanne. However she angrily shoves him away, having zero use for him for now. COLE A great showing for the SCM against former tag team champions, but Chicks Over Dicks once again pads their impressive record, winning the battle of Los Angeles. It should be interesting to see how the SCM recovers in time for the Anderson Cup. CABOOSE If the match stayed a brawl the Militia obviously could've won it. But when one actual wrestling moves were thrown into the equation things were squarely in COD's favor. COACH Who cares about this wrestling crap? Did you guys see where Krista's face was on that moonsault thingie? Oh man, oh man, oh man!!! Hehehehe!

uh-huh uh-huh

With the holidays over, it's time to get back to what's really important, and that's dropping this hot feedback shit on ya'll bitches. I bring my bust your shit open feedback in an out of order style. I've always enjoyed Crystal's promos. And this one was quite entertaining. You run this yard, bitch, them other freak ass ho3s can't see you or be you! GET DOWN GIRL, GO 'HEAD GET DOWN! TPR acting like like SJ's teacher's bitch was cute. I can see the other Upstarts jumping PRL after school and jamming the leftover meatloaf from the Cafeteria in a place where meatloaf just shouldn't go! Anyway, the PK/SJ/Axel thing has played out really well. Because of my sweet inside hookups I know where it's going, but I'm still intrigued. That's how gnarly it is. At first I thought Rikjin was gonna take the chair and do some beating on Foshi of his own. But, no heel turn tonight. Foshi's pretty dope, he and the Heavenly Rockers should have a jam session sometime. Unlike Tony, I didn't think the Triple Threat was gonna get hammered because I don't think Parka went through all the trouble of writing stats just to squash them their first time out. But, I didn't think they'd lose either. I figured it would just end in a DQ. O'Hara's promo was hella sick. And you know this, maaaaaaan. Rad NNMX promo. Nice to see Simon get some choice lines. I wonder how Rhonda Sue is doing? I actually liked Contact. Matthew Mcconaughey is Everything I missed was fine, I just have to go, there's like a coyote or something outside my house.

Los Diablos De Fuego Vs The Worldwide Shindig Transaction

lolly, lolly, lolly, I like lolipops! COLE There's no situation developing backstage, but uh....let's just go there anyway! COACH Cripes, Mikey, just go to the bathroom during the commercial breaks! Well, if we're killing time until Mikey's done peeing, let's do the right thing and get some fine eye candy on screen. (By order of Coach we go backstage to the dressing room of Chicks Over Dicks. Krista Isadora Duncan seems to be the only one present. Wearing a white one shoulder tube top and a flowly orange skirt, she's typing away on her Dell Laptop computer. Sitting next to the best selling author are three empty bottles of Jack Daniels and a half full glass of Coke and rum. Her hard work is interrupted by the arrival of her tag team partner, Alix Maria Spezia. Miss Spezia is outfitted in a gorgeous cream colored camisole, and aged indigo low rise flared jeans. I know too much about women's fashion.) KRISTA Hey, sweetie. You look cute. How ya feeling? Good? Bad? Horrendous? Gruesome? Shuddersome? Atrocious? I'm running out of adjectives, so gimme an answer. ALIX Aside from the concussion, stitches, and chilling nightmares that will forever haunt me in my sleep, I'm a-okay, I guess. Whatcha doing? KRISTA I'm writing a romance novel. My agent said the market is ripe for expanding into fiction. I'll have people flocking to my book like a methadone clinic's patients to a candy store. I'm only on chapter four but this book is so hot I have to wipe the steam off my screen after every sentence. I dare my editor to read this with tight pants on. I call it [i]Passion in the Bayou[/i]. Good title, huh? ALIX You're writing a romance novel? Woah, now I know what Peter Knight must feel like when he listens to me talk, because I think my brain just melted. You? Krista, it's Christmas not April Fools! KRISTA Excuse me? Honey, I'm the most romantic woman you'll ever meet.. I'll read you a passage. Ahem! “As his impious unit vigorously penetrated the angelic walls of her luxurious jungle, scenes of hideous terror played within the pitiable cinema of her mind. Starring in the lead role was her fragile feminine identity, set to act out it's grandiose death scene at the hands of his malevolent masculinity. She was keenly aware that strong action had to be taken before this oft-repeated tragedy emerged as reality's macabre fruition. The brilliant woman reached over to her night stand and grabbed the key to her eternal salvation. A golden letter opener. He screamed, as his phallic power became submerged in a rising crimson pool. She screamed as well, intensely overwhelmed by her spectacular orgasm of female liberation.” Can you say Krissy's got a tenth New York Times Bestseller? ALIX Yeaaaah. And I can also say Krissy's got issues! KRISTA I bet they make this into a movie. You know who would be good in the lead role? Winona Ryder. I drove by her home last week. She had bars on her window to prevent people from robbing [i]her[/i]. If the irony of that hit me any harder, I'd have the words i-r-o-n imprinted on my forehead. Y wouldn't fit because I have a small forehead. Are you sure you're okay? You didn't laugh at my methadone joke. I told it on the [i]Today[/i] show last month. Katie Couric died. Not literally. That would be awful, or wonderful, depending on your taste in televised morning talk shows. You haven't been so chipper and upbeat these past few days after our Climax match. I can understand why you're so down, but don't try and pretend everything is fine, when it's obviously not. ALIX I am fine! I swear it. KRISTA No, you're not. The whole thing was a rather mortifying experience, and I understand if you don't want to talk about it. But, I have to say this. What hurts me the most and cuts the deepest, was that Leon Rodez, your Lee-Lee, was no where to be found while Marky Mark's funky bunch were having their way with you during the match. ALIX (softly) What do you mean? KRISTA Oh you know exactly what I mean, sweetie. If Leon loved you like he claims he does, then why on earth did he not make a heroic attempt to rescue his damsel in distress? Johnny and Scotty made you bleed. I watched that. I had to stand on the ring apron, held up by a sixty year old man, and listen you to scream and cry for help while your blood and your tears puddled on the mat. I had to watch that. Powerless. I had to listen to them call you a slut and a lot of other things. It broke my heart. I don't even feel like we won the match. That was above and beyond a pro wrestling contest. That was pure abuse, and your asshole boyfriend, who you love so much, was nowhere to be found. Where the hell was he, Ally? What was he doing? I think that's a fair question. ALIX He can't run in on the match. That's against the rules... KRISTA Oh, oh, oh, oh! My mistake! I forgot that Leon Rodez is such a paragon of virtuosity and moral code! Fine, let's live in Alix's magic fantasy land where snakes talk, monkeys fly, and Leon Rodez is actually an upstanding holder of ethical law. Where was he after match then? How come when the bell rung, he wasn't rushing down the ramp as fast as his stubby legs could carry him? If there was any part of him that cared about you, he would've been in that ring in an instant. So who [i]was[/i] there for you when you needed help the most? Not Lee-Lee, but Krissy. ALIX Krista, you're not in competition with him! KRISTA It's always a competition. ALIX Please don't talk about Leon this way, Krista. You don't even know him. He's sweet. He's not like the others. KRISTA (muttering) You're hopeless. ALIX Huh? KRISTA Honestly, tell me what someone like Leon Rodez could possibly ever do for you? What can he ever give to you, besides years of bitterness and regret? This happens every year with you, Alix. You fall for one of these shitheads and they turn you into a blubbering emotional wreck. Who do you come running to when you've lost control and you can't stop the heartache? Who's shoulder is it that you spend nights crying on? Krista's. Who do you think is going to be there catch you when you fall? Krista. This relationship will end like all the others. With you on the floor in tears, and your heart in tattered rags and your soul in pieces. At some point these walls will cave in, and you'll never stop your suffering. Don't believe me? Look at your history. You can't hide from your past. Open your eyes to the future. He will leave on your knees with your heart bleeding in your hands. (Alix pauses, lost within the parade of Krista's logic) ALIX (weakly) Well, you're not..so..so.. perfect, okay. Let's..let's...look at your history. Yeah! What about Ned, huh? Yeah, what about him? KRISTA That was almost six years ago, Alix. And the Ned I loved isn't the Ned you see today. The Ned I loved was killed by this Handsome Hustler character. Look, I'm sorry. It's not that I'm trying to be mean or make you feel bad. I'm just sick of watching you get hurt all the time. Don't try and think that I'm the bad girl here. Is it a crime to be concerned? Is it a bad thing that I care about you? ALIX I guess not... KRISTA You guess not? Hmph. Glad to know I inspire such gratitude ALIX Awwww, Krissy, I didn't mean it like that. Hey, I got you a gift! I know you don't celebrate Christmas and all, so we'll call it a happy “bigoted, homophobic white-man oppressing the disenfranchised minorities of America” day gift. Unfortunately, the fine people at Hallmark don't make a card for such a holiday, and my attempts at framing their CEO as a pedophile have merely led to me being investigated by the FBI. So if anyone in a suit and a fancy badge comes knocking on your door, and doesn't look like the strip-o-gram I ordered, tell them I've moved to Rhode Island and have changed my name to Candie! But here's your gift. I wrapped it and everything. And don't worry this isn't like your birthday. I learned my lesson! Why didn't someone tell me about these [i]airholes[/i]? Oh Petey, heaven knows no better an angel. (Alix pulls a small box out of her pocket, and lays it on the table. She smiles proudly, but that smile soon fades when she sees that Krista isn't about to unwrap the gift.) ALIX Aren'tcha gonna open it? KRISTA Right now? Honey, I'm busy. This book isn't gonna write itself. Krista Isadora Duncan didn't become a millionaire by having hallmark moments on live television. She became one by being emotionally detached from the world around her, and eventually alienating those that she cares about the most. Soooo... ALIX (trying to sound upbeat but failing) Well, you can open it later. It's no big deal. “bigoted, homophobic white-man oppressing the disenfranchised minorities of America” day is sort of a year round holiday anyway. Hmmm. Hey, wanna see these fliers I made? (Without waiting for an answer Alix thrusts a stack of papers at Krista) KRISTA (reading it) Vote for Alix for most entertaining wrestler of the year in the 2005 Angle Awards? ALIX Yeah! I'm sure I could fit that next to my Oscar in my award case. Oh sure the Oscar says Jodie Foster on the nameplate, but after having to shell out seven dollars and seventy five cents to sit through [i]Contact[/i], I personally feel that I'm just as if not more entitled to the award as she is. KRISTA Knowing how most of the guys here are, why don't you bring Los Diablos De Fuego on your campaign trail and see if they can [i]rock the vote[/i] by rocking the boat, if you're picking up what I'm putting down. ALIX Krista! KRISTA Just a suggestion. I don't suppose your cute little flier includes anything about us being nominated for best tag team or me being nominated for most underrated wrestler? ALIX Uh..um..they're on there! KRISTA Really? All I see is Vote for Alix in big bold letters, a picture of you in a bikini, with your head taped onto my body by the way, and a coupon for twenty five percent off a grand slam at Denny's. ALIX Are you sure? Oh my! Oh heaven's no! This can't be right! The printer must've messed up. How awfully awful! Well, I've got so many of them, and I'd hate for all those poor little trees to have died in vain to make my fancy paper, so when you're done being a bitter drunk can you pass some out for me? KRISTA Sure thing. (BACK TO THE SC) COACH I wonder what gift Alix gave Krista? Probably some piece of roadkill, like a dead skunk, or whatever type of gift trailer trash like that gives. Heeheeh!

COLE Folks, I understand that Terry Taylor is with NRG, who made no friends when they attacked the Sk8er Boiz this past Sunday at Climaxx. (We go backstage where Taylor, dressed in a fire engine red shirt, and gaudy green pants, to celebrate the season is standing next to Flex and Biff. Both men are shirtless to show off their majestic bodies.) TERRY Terry Taylor backstage with the OAOAST's newest tag team, NRG. Boy howdy am I glad to see you guys. Normally they make me deal with these two crazy girls. You've seen them. There's Alix. She's wild, but she's got a boyfriend to keep her busy now. Tell ya what, I don't envy him at all. I'd hate to be the one that has to wakeup next to her in the morning when all her makeup's off. Honestly, I think he might be as dumb as she is. And the other one is really smart, but she's just plain mean. You're in the fitness industry, you probably know her real well. She has all these exercise videos out. You've been around the fitness circuit, I heard she was a Miss California. But she's really fallen off the wagon, eh. She still looks good, but you can tell she's thirty four these days. But they both treat me like dirt, and I am sick of it. Terry Taylor is not dirt, damn it! Terry Taylor is a human being! One day someone's gonna push Terry Taylor a bit to far, and their gonna find out just how much Terry Taylor can push back! I'll show up with a machine gun, and it'll be chuga-chuga-chuga, swiss cheese all around. Grrrrr. One of these days. One day, one day, one too many days. BIFF We didn't RSVP to no pity party, hippy! Get to the point before I get to the beating! (Biff starts pounding his fist into his palm.) TERRY Speaking of um beatings, what about what you did to the Sk8er Boiz backstage at Climax? You basically disrespected former tag team champions on your very first show in the company. FLEX Did you say [i]champions[/i], Terry Taylor? I hope you didn't. Because the definition of champion is one that is clearly superior or has the attributes of a winner. What about those limp wristed little girls says [i]winner[/i] to you? Am I missing something? Am I not looking deep enough or long enough? Because all I see is the appearance of two losers who pulled out fluke win after fluke win on their way to having one of the most forgettable tag team title reigns in the OAOAST's history. This does not scream champion to me! This screams loser so loud, I have to jam my fingers into my ears to shut out the noise. And I heard they entered themseleves into the Anderson Cup. How lovely. They oughta withdraw because with NRG in the tournament, their chances of winning are between slim and none, and slim just left the building. But these skater children, that's what they are, these mere boys, these sex objects for thousands of eleven year old girls who are well on their way to mothering three children by three different father's by age of seventeen, have latched onto the hottest selling line of sports drinks on the globe, NRG! I'll tell you this Terry Taylor, I am not having it. My partner, Biff, is not having it! We warned them once, but they continue to flaunt their unwanted affiliation in our faces at every opportunity. Earlier today, I saw them at the airport wearing NRG sweat shirts while signing autographs for a group of middle school girls! I promise you we would've exposed everyone in that airport to horrific bloodshed, had there not been a collection of men in army fatigues holding rifles, and guns and possibly grenades. Damn counter terrorism measures. Terry Taylor, they are taking the NRG name and using it for their own personal gain. That is unacceptable. Look at it from our point of view. Would you want someone running around going “I'm the red rooster! Gobble Gobble! Wobble Gobble! Dobble gobble wobble fobble mobble gobble bobble lobble pobble! Ah'm da red roooooostahhhhh, errrrrbodaaaay!” TERRY Why, Jesus? Why do must I endure such humiliation? (Biff starts growling, as drool seeps out from the corner of his mouth) TERRY Uh....what is that you want from Marvin and Mel? FLEX Terry Taylor, our objective is so simple that even someone from (checks writing on hand) Hartford could understand. “BOOOOO!” FLEX Is this what they call “cheap heat”? Surprisingly easy, and addictive fun! Let's try again. Hartford, your men are lacking in quality of appearance and your women's breath reeks of penis that does not belong to their husbands! “BOOOOO!” FLEX Hartford, I wish to make amends! I wrote you a poem. Roses are red. Violets are Blue. When I think of you I want to go poo. “BOOOOOOO!” FLEX I could do that all day. Terry Taylor, what we want out of the bastard love children of Tony Hawk and Aaron Carter is clear. Just like President Bill Clinton, a current client, denied sexual relations with that cow Monica Lewinsky, we want the Boiz to deny ingestion of NRG products! Put plainly, we want them to go on national TV and denounce NRG! Bury our products! Put them six feet under like a bad HBO drama! If you don't I'll put more bullets in you then the Soprano's. The jury won't think twice before sending me off to Oz. Biff, I can tell you want to talk, but please curb your enthusiasm. TAYLOR I'm almost afraid to ask, but let's hear your thoughts Biff. BIFF I'll die bleeding before I let the Sk8er Bois ever endorse NRG again. I'd carve up my own bitch of a mother from head to toe and use her bloody scalp as a Frisbee, before I let them ever say the name NRG! TERRY Hahahahhaa! Working in the OAOAST, I hear some pretty stupid things. But this takes the cake! Thanks for the good laugh, fellas. Are you two crazy? You're getting free publicity! Your product is getting mentioned on TV...for free! Of course it's on a show no one in their right mind would ever watch but it's free! You're loco! FLEX Maybe we are. Maybe we aren't. But you're certainly a few coked out underage skanks short of a whore house if you think you're going to get away with talking to us like that. Biff, fry this chicken. BIFF Shake my hand, hippy. TERRY Huh? Why? Is your last name Spezia by any chance? BIFF Shake my hand, hippy. TERRY Okay...sure. (A firm handshake is exchanged between the two, Terry sweating bullets, Biff showing no emotion) BIFF Thanks, hippy. I've never shook hands with a dead man before. (Suddenly Biff rocks Taylor with a stiff clothesline! The announcer folds up like origami, groaning in agony. A group of wrestlers pass by the scene, but are more concerned with the free eggnog at the snack cart then with helping Terry. Foaming at the mouth, Biff puts the boots to the announcer) BIFF Stomp him! Switch feet! Stomp him! Switch again! (After thirty seconds passes, Flex finally interjects himself into the brutish proceedings.) FLEX Biff, Biffster, Bifferino, Biffy The Rooster Slayer, relax. The clothesline was fine. But don't you think the stomps are a wee bit overkill? BIFF That sounds like hippy talk to me. Are you going hippy on me? FLEX What? No! Never! Stomp away, my maladjusted friend! (Biff continues stomping on Terry) FLEX (dropping a packet of NRG protein drink mix on Terry) Here, Terry Taylor, Merry Christmas, have a free sample. It's our new flavor, Chocolate Berry Blast. NRG. BIFF GET NRGIZZZZZZEDDDD!

The main event is in, ya'll.

You're quite welcome! I went ahead and edited into the show. Hope that's okay.

I was gonna write a match like that to. Anyway, I finished it. Someone involved in it (adam/sj/pk) approve it and edit in, please!

Well, I should have something by the morning.

No problem! If you do end up needing me, just let me know. I'll be here and am more then happy to help.

I'm sure I will at some point regret saying this, but I'd be willing to flesh out the main event up until the ending, if ya'll would like. It wouldn't be a problem at all. I'd be happy to do it.

My next match will be told entirerly through clickable smilies. Tony-Ton-Ton, this has to go before the tag title match. Merci beaucoup, mon ami. CREEPY VOICED OLD MAN [B]In a world full of posers, phonies, and pure wannabees, there finally emerges a group which has come to set the record straight. so, all you suckers better recognize, ya heard can you say uhhh na na na na...[/B] As the playfully romantic [i]Make her Say[/i] picks up to full crescendo, the less then playful and definitely not romantic, Global Party Exchange burst onto the elaborately decorated stage. The heavily aggravated looks they wear on their faces are in stark contrast to the bopping ballad that sings them into war. Clad in matching black cargo pants, and white Upstarts basketball jerseys, the duo stands back to back, arms folded as they're circled by a calvary of boos. COLE GPX hopes to turn their fortunes around tonight, but they face a team that basically never loses in Chicks Over Dicks. As blue and green lights torrent across the not so state of the art Key Arena, GPX proceeds down the entrance ramp. Scotty barks at the jeering crowd, while Johnny focus remains unified on the task ahad. BUFFER The following contest is scheduled for one fall with a time limit of sixty minutes! Now making their way to the ring at a combined weight of four hundred, seven pounds...the former, two-time, OAOAST Tag Team Champions. First from Holanta, he is the man they call Jam, Johnny Jax! And his is partner, from Detroit Rock City, he is Big City Scotty Static! Together they form THE GLLOOOOOBBAAAALLL PPAAAARRRRTTYYY EEEEXXXCCHHAAAAANNGGEEEEEEEE! “BOOOOOOOO!” The boys slide into the battle field ready for war. Scotty leans over the ropes and points to Coach, in a show of respect and solidarity. Johnny Jax scales to the top rope, and glares at every member of the audience his eyes can lay their sight on. He rips off his b-ball jersey, which still manages to get a pop from the female fans. COACH GPX is here to end the year just like they started it. Winning. GPX has got this one. COLE I thought you were a Chicks Over Dicks fan, Johnathan. COACH Bro's over ho's, Mikey. The Coach isn't just a nickname it's a way of life. And The Coach has been coaching GPX on how to handle the COD. We've got a great strategy tonight. COLE Oh my. Well, uh, I'm interested to see how good a coach the Coach really is. The opening guitar strands of pop sensation Lindsay Lohan's cover of [i]Edge of Seventeen[/i] play, as a gorgeous [color=red][b]red pyro[/color][/b] fountain springs forth from the stage. It meets with an equally lovely [color=#ff3366 ][b]pink[/color][/b] pyro waterfall, cascading from the ceiling. As the drum roll of the song kicks up, both the pyrotechnics dissipate, replaced by a booming [color=#ffff33][b]gold[/color][/b] explosion that engulfs the entire stage! Through all the smoke and harsh florescent lights comes Chicks Over Dicks, recipients of a gargantuan pop from the fans. Alix jerks her body back and forth, flinging her arm in the air to the beat of the pop tune. Krista downs a swig of Jim Beam, and slams it onto the steel staging. BUFFER And the opponents...first from Los Angeles, Californ-i-a, she is the 2005 OAOAST Babe of the year, and former tag team champion, ALIX MARIA SPEZIA!! And her partner from Tinseltown, Los Angeles California, she is the author of the New York Times bestseller [i]Soul of a Womyn[/i], and star of the [i]Fit with Kid[/i] line of exercise videos. She is...KRISTA ISADORA DUNCAN. Together they form CHICKS OVER DICKS! Falling under the girls from SoCal's sway, the raucous Washingtonians belt out another pop. Alix wearing a festive Miss Santa outfit, consisting of red velvet halter top and matching hot pants, trots to the ring. Krista, sporting black leather pants and a black tank top, saunters down the ramp. COLE Coach, as a team GPX is well into double digits in the loss column. Individually they're both into double digits in the loss column. COD as team is 20-3 in two years of existence. Alix has a career record of 27-7, and Krista has a career record of [i]30-3[/i]. That is a .900 winning percentage. She has never lost a singles match in her life. She's never been submitted, and she's been pinned [i]once[/i]. By Ned Blanchard. GPX sometimes gets pinned twice in one night! She is the closest thing in the OAOAST to being unbeatable. She simply does not lose. So, I hope you and your boys have a good strategy. Krista embodies the double kingdom of strength and beauty, the most beautiful and rarest of all kingdoms. She stands on the apron, one hand gripping the rope, eyes gazing into the roaring crowd, body striking a photogenic pose more gorgeous then any sculptor could desire. Alix is a little less graceful, perkily bouncing across the ring. COLE Let's get this conte.... Scotty and Johnny jump the COD from behind, starting off the contest with a wild donnybrook! Punches are exchanged like baseball cards! GPX uses their brute strength to get the equivalent of a Hornus Wagner rookie card and back the gals to opposite corners. Pummeling them, the boys nod to each other with cruel smirks. They attempt to whip COD into one another, but the duo from SoCal styimes their efforts with reversals! The crowd is electric as Johnny and Scotty come to a NASCAR worthy collision! Johnny sends his smaller ally airborne, pushing him three feet backwards! Ally Cat smacks Jax, who has no idea what's going on, with a beautiful superkick! The dizzying strike staggers him into the black ring ropes, filling him with a blend of frustration and fright. Krista springs forward and furiously clotheslines the despised villain clear out of the ring! “COD! COD! COD!” chant the still standing fans. Static seeks to eliminate COD's effortlessly acquired momentum with a running knee lift to Alix's turned back. Not having a clue as to who hit her, Ally drops to the canvas in pain. Static can do no more damage, as Krissy converges on him with left hooks! The blows contort the flesh on Scotty's face in a most awkward fashion. Static, now sporting a swollen cheek, actually manages to block one of her slower punches with his forearm. He grabs her arm and tries an Irish whip, but KID reverses it with ease. However instead of throwing him to the ropes, she brings him in for a knee to the gut! Spittle falls out of Scott's vulgar mouth as he doubles over in a sheer agony. Alix stands up and gets her revenge, hitting her prone rival with the crowd pleasing [b]Burning Sensation when you urinate[/b] (Sunset flip pile driver)! The audience goes [color=orange][b]nuclear[/color][/b]! Alix makes a pin, as the replay of the awesome move plays on a little box on the bottom of the screen! COACH What the hell? This isn't how it was supposed to go! CROWD 1 CROWD 2 Double J pulls his buddy out of the ring at the last second! “BOOOOOO!” go the fans who want to get through this 45 match PPV as quickly as possible. Johnny consoles a battered and bruised Scotty, as a steady surge of catcalls flow freely to the pair. They walk around the ring, both discussing strategy, and each trying to place blame on the other for the poor showing thus far. Back in the battleground, Krista is giving Clem Buzzlefoxer Jr, an earful about GPX's questionable tactics. Unfortunately the official is 63 years old, and can't hear a thing. Alix is slightly more proactive then her friend, and jumps out of the ring to take care of business. She goes in hot pursuit of the two time tag team champions, who look like they've decided to throw in the towel and head backstage. One wild haymaker to Scotty's jaw from Ally cat knocks him right into the steel guardrail and puts a roadblock on his escape route. Alix grabs Johnny by his meticulously gelled hair and drags him all the way back into the ring. COACH Don't with mess the hair, dirty grrl! It takes him a whole hour to get it that spikey! Jam-master Jax stands up, hollering a number of unkind words at the bubbly grappler. Unfortunately the Upstart forgets that her surly partner is located behind him! She gives him the most painful reminder imaginable, a birdged half nelson suplex! CROWD 1 CROWD 2 KICK OUT! BOOOOOO! COACH Gah! Not the strategy, you fools! Johnny stands up fairly quickly, leading an overweight fan wearing a Velvet Revolver t-shirt in the front row to loudly lament the lost art of selling. Jax digs his thumbs into Krista's baby blue eyes, eroding her advantage. Thanks to her newfound blindness, JJ encounters little difficulty in whipping her to the black turnbuckle pads. Problematically she's no longer impersonating Helen Keller when she gets there. As such she counters his body splash by catching his slender body, and tossing it onto her shoulders in a standing fireman's carry! You can read the pleasure in Kris' face at her dominion over Jax. She vaults her victim into the air so high, you'd think he could touch the scoreboard. Izzy drops down onto the her back, where she bends her long legs up to her chest. The horrified look on Jax's face is priceless as he sees what savagery eagerly awaits his landing! Double J crashes down onto Krissy's bare knees, suddenly feeling like he's had half his inner organs rearranged! Scarcely able to take a breath, he rises to his feet to make a tag to a partner who's no where to be seen. His jelly legs are unable to support his 6'1 body for long, and they won't have to, as Krista gets him into a pinning predicament with a victory roll! CROWD 1 CROWD 2 KICK OUT! Krista cusses up a storm, but that may just be because her buzz is wearing off. As the crowd lustily boos the nearfall, A-Town's finest leans against the ropes to catch his breath. KID has the intention of blasting him with a clothesline that will either remove his head from his body, or knock him out the ring and into the third row! She runs the ropes to build up speed, but when she comes back, Jax steps forward, making the clothesline less then useful. Required to improvise, the blonde bombshell hops onto his broad shoulders! The hunky heel smartly counters her possible hurricarana with a high impact sit out powerbomb! A downpour of jeers rains on Jax, but the encouraging clapping from the returning Static, serves as an umbrella. Clem counts the pin, nearly throwing out his back as he drops down to count. 1 2 KICK OUT, WITH AUTHORITY, YOU BITCH MADE ASS MU'FUCKAS! “YEAAAAAAAAAA!” Frustrated and exhausted, Johnny dejectedly belly flops onto his stomach. He barely has the energy required to jaw at the fans who are calling him “Johnny Jackass.” Fortunately for the two Upstarts supporters in attendance, he has the energy to make the tag to his partner in crime, Scotty Static. Krista greets his entrance with a stare so cold it could frost every beverage at the concession stands. Dragging behind her a smoldering fuse of rage ready to blow at any moment, Krissy charges him with a clothesline. But Static, side steps her, and uses her momentum against her by grabbing the wrist of her unattacking arm and whipping her to the corner! The thirty-four year old hits the turnbuckles stomach first, but looks to be more annoyed then hurt. Big City fails to notice notice this, and runs in on her, seeking to implant her implants into the ringposts with an avalanche! KID swiftly counters by whipping around and driving the bottom of her gold boot into his midsection! COLE Folks, later tonight you can catch Krista's ex, Ned Blanchard go for the tag team titles against Alix's current, Leon Rodez. That one should be [i]very[/i] interesting. Krissy grabs the stunned fighter's oddly shapen head in a facelock, hops onto the second pad, then comes flying off with a Tornado DDT! Static avoids a surefire concussion, by holding onto to her thin waist and blocking the move! The GPX member seizes control of the fastpaced sequence, and quickly lifts her onto the top turnbuckle. Wasting no time, he scales to the top himself, intending on putting a quick end to this opening bout. Unfortunately Krista is slightly unwilling to go along with this plan, and she angrily pelts him in the ribs with several punches. The blows weaken his position, and the bestselling author is able to casually shove him back to the ring floor. Frustrated Scotty lands on his feet, facing away from her. Jax, who sees the always angry woman rising to her full 5'10 frame, frantically implores his partner to turn around. Unable to hear over the clangorous roar of the sold out crowd, Scotty looks at Johnny dumbfounded, cupping his ear. He soon finds out what the hell John was deliriously warning him about, as he has a pair of long legs clad in black leather wrapped around his neck. Krista gives an affright JJ the middle finger, then casts his partner down to the deepest level of physical hell with an inhuman inverted hurricarana! COACH (standing up) Use your brains, morons! This wasn't the strategy! CABOOSE Did you just call them morons? Scotty stands up into a pair of rights and lefts coming at him fast and furious like a Paul Walker driven car. A Static knee to the ribs ends the brief but one sided slug fest. Seconds later he grabs the back of his hated rival's head, lowers it down, drags her to ropes, and fiendishly rakes her eyes across the stinging cable. Amidst Krista's pained screams, Buzzlefoxer requests he let her go. Scotty obliges and Kris falls to the mat more concerned with the excruciating burning in her eyes then with bracing herself for the impact. Hurriedly, Scotty scoops her up and sends her across the ring with an Irish Whip. For reasons known only to him, he lowers his head allowing Krista to level him with a jarring knee lift. “KRISTA! KRISTA! KRISTA!” Krissy runs the ropes for a Lionsault. Problematically she makes an uncharacteristic mental error by running to the ropes closest to Johnny J. Unlike Kris, Jax commits no gaffe, and pounces on this golden opportunity. As she begins her ascent, he pulls the third rope down, and she takes a dangersome journey to outside! Fortunately she avoids a horrific reintroduction to the familiar guardrails, by landing perfectly on her feet. Enraged to see her still standing, Jax come screaming off the apron with an axe handle smash! But Krista pulls an enormous counter out of her bag of tricks and uses a super kick to slam him like a battering ram! Johnny flails to the mats like a fish out of water, as the nearby fans heap salt on his wounds with a variety of insults. COLE Johnny Jax got crushed! Krista leaves Johnny, minus three or four teeth, on the outside. She gets into the ring, only to get split in half by a razor sharp spear from Scotty Static! With Krista writhing in pain, and the crowd showing him nothing but disparagement , Static sits on his knees, hands against his thighs, huffing and puffing like the biggest and baddest of wolves. Scotty puts hands to lips and blows Alix a sarcastic kiss. Disgusted, she does the tried and true six grade technique of catching the kiss and throwing it away. Sufficiently cock blocked, Static turns his attention to the COD member in the ring. Nostrils flaring in anger, he stands her up and promptly pelts her with a flesh searing European uppercut! And another! And another! And a fourth? No! Izzy counters by spinning her body around, placing her back against his, and hooking both his muscular arms, putting him in a backslide set up! Instead of pulling the startled gladiator down into a pin, she whirls in front of the loathsome warrior and rocks his world with a crowd popping step up enziguri! Shockingly the brutal move doesn't even floor him. It just bends him over, leaves him wobbling like a rocking chair with a dazy haze (not [i]daizee[/i] haze) settling over him. She grabs Static into tightly secured facelock, then does further damage to his skull with an implant DDT! Scotty does a delayed sell, where he does three second head stand, before finally flopping over onto his back. The smark who earlier was complaining over the absence of selling creams himself. Krista floats over into a pin! CROWD 1 CROWD 2 KICK OUT! COACH I feel like I've aged ten years. Is this how Dom Capers feels every Sunday? With a wad of onyx tinted hair in hand, Krista angrily yanks Static to his feet. She gives him an Irish whip to the ropes, making sure to smack him on the back as he goes. With her hand imprint on his backside he rumbles back to her with a shoulder tackle! Despite outweighing her by a solid forty pounds, he barely budges the former fitness model an inch. Scotty's mouth droops into a disgusted frown, as Izzy vibrantly guffaws at his failure. “If at first you don't succeed!” She says. “Try, try, again!” The fans in the front row finish off the old adage. Static takes their ill-meaning advice, and heads to the ropes once more. Leaning forward with his tattooed shoulder, he puts forth another shoulder block! He moves her about half a centimeter. The fans find this downright hilarious, but Scotty is totally irate with his glaring ineptitude. Krista, using her sweetest motherly tone, offers another round of encouragement to her downcast rival. “Third times a charm, dear! You can do it!” Fed-up with her condescending cheer leading, Scotty takes to the ropes once more, intending on knocking her into [i]next year[/i]with this latest shoulder block. He comes back with a full head of steam, setting her in his chaos hungry sights, only to get turned upside down and inside out with a powerful lariat from Miss California 1999 herself! “KRISTA! KRISTA! KRISTA!” Beaming with pride, Krista makes like Sean Carter, and gets that dirt off her shoulder. Why? Cuz ladies is pimps to. A few well placed kicks from her glittery gold boots to Scotty's ribs to turn him onto all fours. KID straddles his back upper back, making the idea of escaping a preposterous one at best. She grabs his arms then awkwardly bends them underneath his baby oil drenched chest, crisscrossing them in a painful fashion. It looks like she's going for a back mounted crossed arm chinlock. However, Krista actually doesn't do a thing. You read that right. All she does is stand up, casually stroll to her corner, and joyfully watch as the brush strokes of her genius paint a comedic masterpiece on the OAOAST canvas. Scotty, curled up into a ball, doesn't seem to realize that he's not in a devastating submission hold and begins to holler in agony. His comically piteous groans reach every last inch of the arena. This elicits an uproarious laughter from the anti GPX crowd, and gets a round of giggles from Alix and Krista. Alix eventually has to bury her head in the turnbuckle, she's laughing so hard. Either that or she stored some coke in there and is doing a line. CABOOSE Coach, do you just hang out with these guys because they make you feel smarter? After thirty of the most humiliating seconds of his life Scotty comes to the painfully obvious conclusion that he's not held in a submission. The Upstart stands up, a kaleidoscope of emotions, ranging from outraged to flat out embarrassed. The audience taunts him with cruel chants of “You're a dumbass” making bloody fury his primary feeling. Setting a homicidal gaze on Krista, he charges her, but she nonchalantly nails him with a forearm to the jaw! The force of her shot spins him around, letting her grab him with an inverted facelock. She vaults him into the air, as if she was attempting her old finisher the Down With Love curtain call. But she shoots him backwards, resting his feet on the top turnbuckle. Johnny, keenly aware of the misdeed set to transpire, is back on the apron hollering for his friend to mount a defense! Krissy pays Johnny no mind, stepping forward and pulling his partner off the ropes! Johnny's blood seethes as Kris sinks to her back, burying Static's face into the unforgiving canvas! As Static struggles to right his rapidly sinking ship, Krista decides to tag in Alix and let her join the fun! “YEAAAAA!” The perky brunette slingshots herself into the fray, welcomed by a round of “ALIX!” chants. She immediately takes up the task of taunting Johnny by jiggling her BUTT like a thick-ass dancer in D4L's [i]Laffy Taffy[/i] video. The incredibly aroused viewers at home whip out a box of tissues and a bottle of Jergen's lotion as quickly as possible. But Johnny's reaction is decidedly unfavorable! Enraged, he tries to come through the ropes to mangle loveable Alix. Yet he's inexplicably held up by sixty billion year old Buzzlefoxer Jr. With Johnny trapped by the Jurassic zebra, sly Ally Cat calls for a double team. She grabs hold of both of Scotty's legs, then drops backwards, slingshoting him towards a ready and willing KID. Krista grounds the airborne Static with an ultra stiff STO! She lands on the mat, but Scotty gets impaled on Alix's bare knees to the immense enjoyment of the fans and total revulsion of Jax! Alix throws more fuel onto her fire of brutality by quickly turning Static over into a liontamer! “TAP! TAP! TAP!” COACH Not part of the strategy! Jax, much more worried about both the outcome of this contest then his friend's deteriorating condition, overcomes the monumental power of Buzzlefoxer and runs into the squared circle. Alix's grey eyes see him coming a mile away, and she meets him with a right hook! While this harsh blow ensures he'll soon be making a trip to his dentist, Johnny's at least able to snatch the match from the sharp jaws of defeat. The Los Angeles native quickly rids the ring of Jax's presence by clotheslining him over the ropes, getting a great ovation from the fans! Scotty, who's undergone a miraculous recovery, rushes her with the now useless shoulder block. She spins around and blocks his attack with a punch to the face! The 5'5 fighter grabs onto his head like she's about to perform a twisting neckbreaker. From there she places her arm around his neck, moving her body to his side. Luckily he's able to weasel his way out of the hold, and take control of the match with a surprise hammerlock! Startled, Alix is unable to mount a suitable defense, and he pushes her down into a standing head scissors! His arms go around her waist, and mere seconds latter her neck gets pulverized with a piledriver! Thrilled to have some semblance of momentum on his side, Scotty tags in his hot headed wingman, Johnny Jax. “JOHNNY JACKASS! JOHNNY JACKASS!” Jax takes his considerable hatred for Alix out on her upper back, tearing into it with multiple stomps. He roughly hauls her to a standing position then whips her to the ring ropes. Upon her return he launches her into the sky with a flapjack! However Alix is able to turn the tables with a hurricarana, pleasing the fans! Johnny gets up, neck smarting from the violent jerk her hold gave it, and staggers to the corner to catch a time out. Al runs in a circle to build up speed, then darts at her larger antagonist. Distracted by bothersome fans in the front row, he's unable to defend against her running up his hairless chest. She kicks him square in the face, before backflipping off. As he slowly totters out of the corner, Alix hurdles to the third rope. Before he can move too far away, she traps him with an inverted facelock. She blows a kiss to Scotty, who ducks it(!), before gliding off the rope and hitting Johnny with a tornado inverted DDT! COLE I'm sure Leon is cheering somewhere backstage, if he's not preparing for his tag title match. As the crowd roots her on, Alix gets Jax into a camel clutch position, placing his arm around her knees. Oddly enough, the ditzy diva ditches the clutch part, and goes straight into posing. Popping the crowd, Alix gingerly flexes her biceps like she was competing for Mr.Olympia. While she's wasting time with her posing routine, Johnny carefully slips away from her and scales the second turnbuckle behind her! He shoots himself off, wrapping his arm around her head, ensnaring her with a monstrous bulldog! Alix blocks it by shoving him away, landing him on his Air Jordans! Annoyed, the Upstart turns to floor her with a discus punch, but finds himself tagged with a roaring elbow to the kisser! She advances her attack with a knife edge chop that rips at his tanned flesh. Each further chop leaves a livid red mark on his skin. Finally a knee to the gut by Jax eighty-sixes the chop series! After a moment's pause, JJ locks Spezia into a double underhook. The feisty competitor violently thrashes against his firm clamp, while he levies a bombardment of insults Krista's away. His strength advantage overpowers her resistance and he easily crushes her with an underhook suplex! Jax covers her, talking trash to outraged Krista as he does so. 1 2 KICK OUT! “YEAAAAAAAAA!” Johnny allows Alix to stand up on her own, forcing the twenty eight year old to expend her precious energy. He snaps her with forearms, alternating between lefts and right. After the tenth strike the youngster grabs her arm and attempts to sling her to the ropes! She surprises him with a reversal, putting him on the run. Thankfully Scotty has the wherewithal to hop off the apron and grab Johnny's ankle, stopping him from returning to blood thirsty Alix. Ireful over having her attack halted, Alix dashes at Jax with demonic speed. His arm whistles through the air to blast her with a clothesline! Yet she avoids certain devastation by dropping into a baseball slide. Ally wildly careens underneath Johnny's legs, out of the ring and into Scotty Static's youthful face! Caught off guard, he's thumped flat on his hemorrhoided ass! As the fans chant her name, Alix jumps onto the ring apron. She launches herself back into the match with a springboard dropkick to Jax, who had once again gotten into it with Krista! CABOOSE If Johnny hadn't been acting foolish, harassing Krista, he could've seen and countered that move. While Johnny J rolls onto his stomach to protect his back, Alix runs to the corner, springs onto the second turnbuckle and comes crashing down with a Qadarabera (spelled wrong)! Jax gets his knees up! Too horrified for Alix's afflicted welfare to watch, Krista turns away as Alix's jaw meets Johnny's knee in a brutal head on collision! With bold shrieks of pain seeping through her hand that covers her injured mouth, Alix stands up. Unyielding in his assault, Jax pulverizes her with a well timed jaw breaker! So worried for her friend's safety, Krista has her body between the ropes, halfway in the ring, willing to risk disqualification just to aid her. His cobalt eyes staring venomously at Krista, Johnny picks up Alix and nails a second punishing jawbreaker! Sensing that the blonde timebomb is ready to explode, Johnny lights her fuse with a provoking chant of “We Want Krista! We Want Krista!” Anger playing on her face, Krista storms into the ring to level Jax! But Buzzlefoxer holds her up, making an effort to maintain order. This distraction permits Static to sneak in undetected for a round of devious tag teaming. Johnny snap mares Al into a sitting position, while Scotty builds up speed on the ropes. Static rebounds with a sadistic basement dropkick to her face! Alix slumps onto her back, and Johnny drops his 221 pounds on her with a body splash! Krista stares in abject in horror, as the pain spreads through Alix's fragile body like a cancer. “Come on, Krista!” Johnny yells at her, sneering in disgust. “Your partner needs you!” COLE Such awful sportsmanship. Jax grabs Alix by her coffee colored hair and drags her to the ropes nearest his corner. He drapes her throat first over the second cable, shouting back at Krista as he does so. Operating in perfect concert with his buddy, Scotty capitalizes on Alix's glaring vulnerability by dashing along the apron and planting his boot into her skull with a running kick! Spezia slumps back to the mat, volcanic tremors terrorizing her body, an agonized expression disfiguring her pretty face. “Aren't you gonna help her, tough girl?” Scotty shouts at Krista. “You just gonna leave the bitch to get beat!” He accuses, before spitting on Alix's face like true barbarian. “YOU SUCK, STATIC! YOU SUCK!” bleat the fans. COACH I think this might be a uh...variation of our strategy. CABOOSE Your strategy is to goad a bitter alcoholic who hates all people by beating up her only friend in the world? You're gonna get in trooooubbble. This'll be good. Johnny steps on her throat, while feigning politeness as he invites Krista into the ring. Continuing his exhibition of cruelty, he scoops Alix up, and leads the knocked out diva to her corner. Displaying his first act of kindness, he extends her arm out, so that Krista can make the tag. But right before Krissy's hand can slap Alix's, uncompassionate Johnny joyfully jerks her arm away! Cackling manically, he hits Alix with a front Russian leg sweep, spiking her face into the mat. Krista nervously stalks across the ring apron, eyes blazing with rage at a world that would allow her partner to suffer like this. A fresh gout of blood seeps from beneath Alix's hairline, as the distressed fan favorite weakly moans for help from her best friend, tugging at the heartstrings of those in attendance. “Why don't you tag Krista, cutie?” Scotty asks Alix behind a big phony smile. “Go tag Krissy, sweetie! Go on ahead, cutie-pie” He repeats, as Johnny steps on her hands, joyfully grinding his shoes into her knuckles, preventing her from doing anything but crying. “Johnny, why won't she tag her?” Johnny shrugs his shoulders, “I don't know, bro!” COLE He can't tag her, because Johnny's on her damn hands, you motherfucker! Jeuss. I'm sorry, folks. Johnny takes a fistfull of Alix's hair and roughly cranks her neck, eliciting a thunderous bellow from the injured grappler that seems capable of shattering glass. Thrilled to have reduced the normally upbeat Alix to a quivering mound of defenseless flesh, Johnny and his partner share in a cold-blooded laugh. He brings her back to her feet, just so he can deck her with a right cross. Alix lands with a resounding impact, blood shot eyes meeting Krista's own grief stricken orbs, before rolling to the back of her head. A scream escapes her lips as Jax wraps his legs around her neck for a grounded head scissors. The formerly pedestrian hold is now a death grip on her throat, waging a onesided war on the embattled young lady's wellbeing. “Why won't you help her, Krista? Don't you care anymore?” Scott lays on the guilt trip, screaming over the crowd's chanting of Alix's name Buzzlefoxer drops down to his stomach, getting in close to see if she wants to end this excruciating experience. Alix has too much completive pride in her bones to throw in the towel, and kicks her legs forward, barley reaching the ropes for an all important ropebreak. Jax refuses to relinquish the hold, milking it for the five second count afforded him. “We're beating her ass, Krista! And you're just on the apron doing nothing!” Johnny shouts, as he lets go of the hold and tags in Scotty.. “I hope you make a better mother then you do a partner! I bet your kid grows up to be a slut just like her Auntie Alix!” COLE This is too much for me to handle. “We can pound on her all night long, Krissy! We don't care about this whore! You do! You're the one we're after!” Scotty informs her, while he belts Alix's chest with an overhand slap. Blood oozes from her chest, as she tumbles to the corner, face masked in tears. Scotty sends an always dangerous yakuza kick to his foe, connecting with a most satisfying crunch. Straining to see through the streams of sweat and tears, Alix sinks to a sitting position. Unrelenting, Static batters her with a dozen boot scrapes, while joining his teammate in a caustic “Let's go Alix” chant! Pressing his size 11 boot against her moist cheek he smugly pushes her to the mat, a pitiful combination of whimpers and howls. The unfeeling Upstart gingerly steps on her throat with his right foot and grounds his left foot into her face, muzzling her heartbreaking cries of despair. “PLEASE DIE, SCOTTY! PLEASE DIE, SCOTTY!” croon the outraged fans. “How good are you at singles wrestling, Krissy? Maybe you can be our valet!” Johnny razzes her,as he receives the tag from chuckling Scotty. Amidst a grating melody of boos, the man known as Jam unhurriedly steps into the bout. Jackson pounds at Alix's back with forearms, as he slowly brings her to her feet. He wildly shoves her between his legs for a standing head scissors. Feeling blackness closing in her, Alix valiantly fights against his hold. But three forearms to the back crush her rebellion and the crowd's moment of faint hope. He drags her into the air, turning her upside down in front of his muscular physique. After a six second delay, he plunges forward, crashing her face against the rock hard canvas, and pressing the entirety of his bodyweight on top of her. A tremble of alarm passes through Krista, as she watches Johnny make a lateral press. 1 2 In the ultimate display of demeaning cruelty Johnny lifts her head up, breaking up his own fall. He stands her up, where she shows some life with an audience popping left jab! The party boy evades the swipe, and punishes her for her resistance with a left cross. A second strike from her is no more productive and returns a severe nose bleed from a Johnny Jax headbutt. Her own head abruptly jerks forward and is introduced to his fist. Her head bounces forwards and backwards again with each passing punch, like a tether ball on a playground. Jax winds up for one massive clothesline, but Alix exhibits admirable competitive spirit, by ducking it and coiling around his waist for a waistlock. But the southern fried star demolishes her cheek with a back elbow more fierce then all his punches combined. Finally he drags her down with a diamond cutter! Just for good measure he picks her up and scores a second one. He attempts a cover, making certain that he's facing despondent Krista. 1 2 “Help me, Krissy! Help me!” He impersonates Alix, speaking in her bubbly voice. COLE I...I...I..can't watch this. How can you do this to a woman? To a human being? Driven by an instinctive imperative to save her partner, Krista finally declares all out war on her tormentor, much to the dismayed crowd's relief. But Johnny again pulls Alix's head up, ending the fall. With the pin exhausted, Buzzlefoxer has to block Krista's now illegal entry into the contest. Krista looks at Clem Jr with feral intensity, thinking about tearing him apart with her bare hands so she can do the same to GPX. “Good job Clemmy! Official of the year, dawg!” Scotty shouts over the fans' booing in the background. Back in the ring, Johnny sucks Alix into a front face lock. But the plucky diva flat out refuses to capitulate! She sends a fist rolling into her foe's side. Hurt, Johnny jumps back and releases the hold after her knuckles catch his ribcage. Extracting a mighty pop from both the audience and Krista alike, Alix hammers him with knife edge chops! Her advance meets an untimely death, thanks to a rake of the eye from Double J. Johnny backpedals, rubbing the sorest part of his chest. After a seconds pause, he thrusts forward, plowing into her like a runaway truck with a Stan Hansen worthy lariat! After she collapses to the mat he immediately mounts his squalling victim, fists pounding her with such vigorous barbarity he puts her on the verge of blacking out. Alix emits such a depressingly anguished cry that if GPX had any heart within the blackened abyss of their souls, they might actually take pity on her. COLE Coach, if this is your doing, I'm ashamed to know you. COACH Hold the phone, Mikey. I just told them that Krista has a bad temper, and if they get her off her game, she'll do something dumb and get disqualified. This is them taking creative liberties. We never talked about this. Johnny makes the tag back to Scotty, who's been impatiently waiting for another opportunity to inflict further physical havoc on miserable Alix. Mowing her down emotionally with the most cutting of taunts, Static grabs her by the hair and leads her to the center of the ring. The Detroit native shoves Alix down on all fours, forcing Krista to watch as the tears puddle on the mat beneath her. As the torment climbs to it's greatest height, Alix feels more helpless and humiliated. In her twenty nine years never has she suffered under such tortuous misery. She is powerless and totally unable to control herself as she weeps and tries to scream for a savior to come and rescue her. She struggles like a caged animal for release but her maniacal predator's clutch on her hair is indestructible and expert. “Isn't she cute, Krista?” Scotty asks, with obvious sarcasm. “Isn't she just the most adorable thing you've ever seen?” Suddenly Alix feels a burst of blistering white hot pain explode within her body as his forearms begin to maul her face. The scream that they force from her dies as a high pitched bubbling in her throat. Her body, soaked in perspiration, jerks spasmodically underneath the force his remorseless blows, not turning limp until he finally ends his crippling attack. An ocean of anger washes Krista into the battleground. Like soldiers storming the beaches of Normandy on D-Day, Krista storms the ring. Buzzlefoxer becomes the biggest heel in the company when he lays down an unflinching law, demanding she return to her station. Choking down a sob, Krista retreats to her corner. COLE Krista, just knock him out! Who cares if you lose the match? All on her own, Alix rises to face Scotty, unafraid She catches the arrogant stud with a roundhouse kick betraying her feeble condition! Grand cheers emanate from every soul in the stands in response to Alix's inspiring show of defiance. Scotty's temper flares wildly, and he kicks her in the stomach. He pulls her into a double underhook for a tiger driver! But Alix powers out with furious punches to his abdomen! With the fan's chanting her name, she lays into him with the stiffest punches her tiny body can muster. A particularly nasty body shot slams into him with the power of a wrecking ball and doubles him over! She sits her BUTT on his head, and hooks her arm around his. Alix turns around, lifting him upside down, and resting his back against her's. Glaring at Johnny, she drops Scotty right on his dome with a vicious cop killer! “LET'S GO ALIX! LET'S GO ALIX!” Krista and everyone who isn't some sort of Jesus hating terrorist who supports a horrible team like GPX, is on hands and knees begging Alix to make the tag. Energy all but drained from her, Al begins the arduous trek to her corner. Static starts to stir and for a moment's time it appears he may cut Alix off at the pass. But, using what little energy she has left, the feisty heroine springs forward and makes the tag to Krista! The crowd erupts with bloodthirty jubilation as they are acutely aware that the devil herself is set to unleash unholy hell on GPX! A festering cauldron of pure hate, Krista jumps into the ring, issuing a full throated roar that sends the crowd into the further frenzy. Johnny, mysteriously unhindered by the ref in his entrance into the ring, has the misfortune of encountering the hellcat first. He attempts an ill advised sunset flip! Izzy doesn't even entertain the thought of going down, instead choosing to go up for a double stomp! Johnny avoids having his brains splattered by rolling onto his stomach, causing her to miss. This merely makes her even madder, and she leaves an imprint of his face on the canvas with her second double stomp! “OOOOOOOOHHH!” Scotty blindsides her, flailing his arms like mad, pounding on her with forearms that will only make his eventual drubbing much more harrowing. Krista whirls to face him, and delivers a deep snarl that would give most men nightmares for an eternity. She whips him to the corner, where a hard thud with the turnbuckle sucks the wind out of his laboring lungs. A groggy Static staggers forward right into a face caving superkick so ferocious it propels him back to the corner! “[b]OHHHHHHH![/b]” go the crowd in response to the ghastly strike. COACH Oh shit! With growing horror that he's fighting a losing battle, Johnny tries to take her by surprise with a waistlock. Horrible idea. Using a strength that dwarfs his, Kris shreds apart his grapple. She turns around and busts his lip wide open with a straight hook! A volcano of fury exploding in every which way, she grabs his head, clamps down his tights, then lifts him straight up like a missile, and drops him straight down with an Implant DDT! “KRISTA! KRISTA! KRISTA!” CABOOSE I don't want to say I told you so. But.... COACH Then don't say it, you idiot! Static is back in the fracas, springing forward with a yakuza kick! Krista sidesteps it and quickly locks the errant fighter into a full nelson. Hissing like a panther about to devour it's overmatched meal , she hurls him backwards with a release dragon suplex! The terrified heel goes tumbling and flipping through the air with concussive force! He lands on the mat neck first, momentum carrying him up to his weak knees. Krista spots this, and annihilates his once handsome face with a barbaric shining wizard! “KRISTA! KRISTA! KRISTA!” COACH Oh no, oh no, oh no! Johnny comes from out of nowhere and scores a desperation bridged German Suplex! Clem Jr counts the pin, even though Jax is not the legal man. KICK OUT! “KRISTA! KRISTA! KRISTA! COLE Not even a one count! Moving at a frantic pace, JJ brings her to her feet, and fires her to the ropes. She rebounds, but he drops down, requiring her to hop over him. Scotty, now upright and lusting for some form of vengeance, has a standing lariat waiting to put her in her place. But she merely shoves his questing arm down like it belonged to a five year old. He throws up his arms to his face, as if such a comically pathetic defense could save him from the dread he's sown. Krissy latches her arms around his waist, then flings him backwards with a belly to belly suplex! To add injury to injury, Scotty's 197 pounds land squarely on Johnny's back generating a loud cracking of the bones! Johnny lets out a high pitched squeal of terror, as the crowd cries for more punishment from the West Coaster! COLE Go get him, girl! The light in her eyes stoked to full fire, Krista goes after Scotty with vile right hands. Finally detecting an opening in her rapid fire assault, he plants a firm shoulder to her exposed midsection. Grabbing her by the waist he starts to foist her into the air for a spine buster, but she counters with a front guillotine choke! The still standing crowd explodes with an earthshaking roar that could make the deaf hear again. Scotty rages against the hold, realizing that his feral competitor is trying to strangle him outright. Any effort he makes to battle out of her death lock, causes her to tighten her grip. His face turning different shades of blue, Static picks her up and charges to the corner, drilling her backfirst into the padded turnbuckles! Chilling fear grips him as he feels her clutch on his air supply get tighter, and his odds of staying conscious turn dimmer. Spurred on by a desire to simply survive rather then win the match, he hauls her to the canvas with a bridged Northern Lights Suplex! Shards of jagged agony tear into him as Krista kicks her legs back and pulls him up with the guillotine still cinched in! “TAP! TAP! TAP!” With a steady stream of salvia dribbling down his chin, a world turned into a hazy blur, and an utterly terrifying rival who seems willing and able to put an end to his career latched onto him, like a parasite Scotty can no longer bear the intense pain. Thus he furiously [b]taps out[/b], surrendering to Krista! “[b]YEAAAAAAAAA![/B]” screams the audience as [i]Edge of Seventeen[/i] restarts. BUFFER Your winner...CHICKS OVER DICKS! CABOOSE Scotty Static tapped out! COACH Is that so? Somehow I must have missed that among the ringing of the bell, and Buffer's announcement, and all the cheering fans. Any more brilliant insights you want to share with me, oh brilliant commentator, oh master orator, oh king of all his broadcast domain? Or would you just like to shut up and go back to being a third wheel? Wanting to pay GPX in full for what they've done Alix, KID lets Scotty free and goes to Johnny. Fortunately, Johnny has the common sense to get the hell out of the ring, before he's signing autographs in the ER. Krista let's him run away, choosing to focus on Alix instead. As gently as possible, Krista helps Alix to her feet, where she receives a touching ovation from the spectators.

As you wish. Don't sass me again, boi.