Patty O'Green

Broadcast from the Qwest Center aka The Q in Omaha, NE. That is the abbreviation for Nebraska I assume.

I left some spots for EWC's segments and the cuban wall/zack match. Yes, yes.

CREDITS KC Alf PRL (at some point) Zack (at some point) Mister 149 Me!!! © 2007 OAOAST Entertainment All Rights Reserved. naw, I'm fucking with you son, we ain't got no money for copyrights

We hear (or pretend to hear) the sometimes beloved/sometimes maligned theme song, (whatever that is, use your imagination) as we view the dizzying introduction video. Once that usual bit of preamble is complete the logo is shown.... And we go into the sold out Staples Center in Los Angeles, California..... Pillars of orange fireworks dart down the entrance ramp, creating an illuminating wall in front of the cheering front row fanbase. Atop the entrance stage blue and red sparklers twirl in hypnotizing fashion. The camera pulls away from the amazing pyro display, to showcase the fabulously wild fans who fling signs dedicated to their favorite superstars into the sky. Eventually the image settles upon HeldDOWN's announce team. COLE Folks, welcome to the highest rated show in all of sports entertainment, OAOAST HeldDOWN! I am Michael Cole, joined as always by DA COACH! COACH We are live in Hollywood! The stars are out tonight, I see Paris Hilton, Heath Ledger, Orlando Bloom, Johnny Depp all here to get a glimpse of DA COACH live and in action! This is my big break! You're talking the next Denzel! This is my big shot! I won't forget you though, I'll always remember the little people. Fame won't change me. I'm still Jenny from the block. Used to have a little but now I've got a lot. COLE Uh, right. Anyway, tonight in our mainevent we have a fifteen person world tag title battle royal! This match came about when Theodore Moneymaker used his position as third largest TSM investor to go over the heads of OAOAST officials to get the match made. Obviously he wants the title off Chicks Over Dicks, and he wants it to happen in their home town. The match features, The Beverly Hills Blonds, The Militia, Landon Maddix and Todd Cortez, The Lonestar Gunslingers, GPX, America's Team, among others. Also tonight, Zack Malibu goes one on one with 24/7 champion the Cuban Wall! I can't wait for that one! PRL PROMO. Maybe???

DING DING DING The second the bell rings, The Love Doctors inexplicably charge the Beverly Hills Blonds. While everyone else converges on one another, the camera focuses on the battle between the Medical professionals and the former Midnight Express. Simon subdues Max with an eye rake, which allows him to join Ned in double teaming Pigley. The duo stride forward and paste the man with a lariat. He staggers backwards into the ropes, but doesn't go over them, instead tangling himself within their web. But he doesn't stay in that position for long as Vinny Santana sneaks towards him, grabs onto his ankles and dumps him head over heels out of this contest! "YEAAAAA!" scream the fans, happy to see South Central Militia's early success COLE We have our first elimination! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Love Doctors LEFT: 1st ELIMINATED: None ELIMINATED BY: The South Central Militia LEFT IN RING:14 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Militia and The Blonds brief alliance disintegrates, as the two parties begin hammering each other with wild punches. Directly to their left stands Jock Mulligan, trying to fend off both members of NRG. His partner resides in a far corner, decimating Mariachi of Los Diablos De Fuego with knife edge chops. When he's through with his chopping routine, Baron backs towards the center of the ring to build up speed for a running attack. The Slinger then charges forward to flatten Mariachi with an avalanche. But the flamboyant luchadore's partner interferes with that plan, when he leaps onto the cowboy's shoulders for a hurricanrana! But Baron counters this hold with an earth shaking powerbomb! He tosses his hands into the air in triumph, but this moment of distraction permits CPA to latch onto his white trunks and hurl him over the cables. Thankfully for his team, he's able to land with his back on the ring apron. He rolls back into the ring, but is immediately pummeled by stomps from The Enterprise's debt collector. Christian Wright frantically attempts to dead lift Logan Mann out of this match, but the rock n wrestling superstar holds onto the cables for dear life. Mann is granted a bit of help, when his partner Synth Eszier begins rifling clubbing forearms into Wright's back. Logan frees himself from the cables and joins The Synthmesiter in hooking The Natural into a front facelock. They lift him into a double suplex position, intending to simply toss him from the ring. Unfortunately, Wright shatters their dreams by taking them down with a double ddt! MONEYMAKER That is my friend, my comrade, and my boy. His victories are my victories, his defeats...are non existent. The Enterprise does not lose. Moneymaker's kudos may have come to soon for Wright, as Krista tries to knock his head off with a yakuza kick. He dives bellow her incoming missile, but can offer no avoidance for Alix's springboard enziguri! The girls celebrate with Alix jamming on the air guitar and Krista gruffly reminding her to focus. “C-O-D! C-O-D!” their hometown fans roar The joyful fans may soon be in a state of mourning, as EMT Tim's charging body seeks to blast Los Angeles' favorite daughters straight out this contest. But the girls avoid such a fate, by catching the Rescue 911 member with a hiptoss. His legs land onto the ropes, causing his entire body to be returned to the canvas in standing position Confused by this nauseating trip, he's totally unable to stop Ally and Krista from dropkicking him over the cables. The fans emit a gargantuan ovation that quickly degenerates into boos when they witness Tim land with his boots on the apron. His landing isn't much of a problem to Miss California, who simply surges forward and spears him from his perch! Cash's muscular frame departs the apron, and collides with the steel barricade, and The Staples Center crowd reacts as though the Lakers just won the championship. “C-O-D! C-O-D! C-O-D!” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ RESCUE 911 LEFT: 2nd ELIMINATED: None ELIMINATED BY: CHICKS OVER DICKS LEFT IN RING: 13 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ MONEYMAKER BWAHAHAHA! First the Love Doctors then those morons. It's a bad night to be in the field of medicine. Shoulda gone to law school. You ever sue anyone, Cole? COLE I can't say that I have. MONEYMAKER You should. It's good for the soul. It's liberating. Makes me feel like a true American, which I am. The truest of them all, I say. Sometimes I don't even know what I'm suing for. I just make up charges, and it sticks in the court of law. My lawsuits are twenty percent bullshit, and one hundred percent winners. This is America, Cole, and I love it! The Militia and The Blonds continue to trade blows, while Rico of the Mardi Gras Home Wrecking Crew tries rid the ring of Flex Phillips' presence. In the nearby corner, Scotty Static unleashes a bevy chops onto the chest of Todd Cortez. Witnessing his partners' dire condition, Landon Maddix weaves his way through the glut of bodies in order to assault Todd's assailant with a round of clubbing forearms. Together he and The Urban Legend brutalize the former tag champ with a deadly array of kicks and stomps. Thanks to their attention being held captive by the task of decimating Static, they fail to notice Lucius Soul working his way up the turnbuckle. But a sudden murmur of anticipation from The Staples Center fans causes Cortez and Maddix to realize something is amiss. But before they can comprehend what the problem is, it's crashing into them and Scotty with a moonsault press! COLE The smooth Soul brother wiping out four people! MONEYMAKER Perhaps he should consider wiping them out of the ring? All in due time, Theodore. All in due time. For now, Lucius must perform the honorable art of moonwalking. But given that only two teams have been eliminated there isn't much space for moonwalking, and so Soul eventually backs himself into Jock Mulligan, who smokes him with a neckbreaker. Leaving Soul to nurse his sore neck, The Texas Twister retreats to the ropes to assist his drinking buddy, Logan Mann in removing CPA from the squared circle. They both get a solid grip on the monster's legs, but can accomplish no more then that, as the lumbering giant swats them away like house flies. But, Mann isn't deterred by CPA's brute strength, and quickly resumes the task of working to eliminate the ogre. But that brute strength proves to be an impassable obstacle, and CPA squashes Logan's efforts by clamping his hands around his neck. Into the air Mann goes, as Allen readies the rockstar's body to be choke slammed out of the ring. The audience urges Synth Esizer to save his partner, but his path is blocked by a swarm of punches from Moracca. Fortunately Jock comes to Logan's aid, diving low and chop blocking Moneymaker's personal hired muscle. The beast lets out a terrible roar, as his fingers detach themselves from Mann's neck. The Heavenly Rocker puts his new found freedom to good use and pummels his rival with a Percussion DDT! As the audience cheers for appearance of the finishing move, Mann and Mulligan trade high fives for their excellent team work. MONEYMAKER What is this manner of goody two shoes nonsense? Do these idiots not even realize the essence of all battle royals? Every man for himself! In this case every team, but they're ruining the spirit! That's not American. Rico crashes the Rocker/Gunslinger party by clubbing Logan down to the canvas with a polish hammer. Watching his friend crumble to a heap sets off a blaze of fury in Jock's heart, and leads him to direct a firestorm of punches towards Rico's porn stache! Unable to stave off the torrent of blows, The Brazilian calls for help. His cries are answered by his wingman Lucius Soul who bulldogs The Texas Twister away from his mentor. Synth Esizer spots the trouble his comrades are in, and fights past Moracca to lend them assistance. He exchanges jabs with The Wrecking Crew, but it doesn't take long before their numbers advantage overwhelms him. However, he's given help from Logan Mann who subdues Soul with a waistlock. But Mann's efforts are wasted, as the New Orleans native frees himself with a mule kick! Soul is kept on the defense, however, by Baron Windells charging towards him with a big boot! The afroed fighter ducks the approaching attack, and Baron's enormous shoe collides directly with the face of Logan Mann! Not expecting the lethal strike, Mann is unable to brace himself for the impact, and the force of the attack propels him over the ropes and to ringside mats! The fans are distraught by the stunning elimination, and Windels can scarcely believe his eyes. He apologizes profusely to Logan, but Mann can hear nothing past Holly's yelps of “Are you okay?” and his own agonizing headache. “BULLSHIT! BULLSHIT! BULLSHIT!” the fans chant. COLE The Heavenly Rockers are out at number three! I can't believe it! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ THE HEAVENLY ROCKERS LEFT: 3rd ELIMINATED: None ELIMINATED BY: The Lonestar Gunslingers LEFT IN RING: 12 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ MONEYMAKER A shocking, and well deserved elimination. Logan Mann can't even muster up the courage to defend his wife from the advances of Rico, he has to depend on team Brokeback Mountain to do his work for him. And, now that same team eliminates him from the match. Life is good! Unless you're Logan Mann or Synth Esizer. While Mariachi and Biff Atlas do battle in the corner, Charlie Moss pounds away at Ned Blanchard with stiff kicks, weakening him enough to begin pushing him over the ropes. But the savvy Blanchard avoids elimination by rolling beneath the bottom cable. He stays in that sprawled out position on the ring apron in order to reclaim his lost breath. Problem is, his foe isn't willing to grant him the much needed time out. Thus Moss slingshots himself over the top rope, and to the delight of thousands, drills his wrestling boots into the Handsome Hustler's face with a gruesome double stomp! As Ned screams in bleak agony, a charging Simon Singleton seeks to eject the apron based Moss from his nest. But Charlie is one step ahead of the Video Voyeur and springboards into the ring to annihilate him with a lariat! The pair go tumbling backwards dragging the nearby brawling couple of Dos and Landon Maddix down with them! The catastrophic collision is all the SWF World Champion needs to decide he's had enough of this particular battle royal, and The Money In The Bank winner begins to roll towards the safety of the outside. Unfortunately he's halted by a sudden downpour of punches from archrival, Johnny Jackson! MONEYMAKER Talk about a team that's fallen off hard. GPX are also rans, has beens, the tag division left them behind two years ago. But if they had my money, and my drive, I could turn them into worldbeaters. Elsewhere, Christian Wright darts towards Alix Spezia with arm outstretched for a lariat. Yet, she evades his strike by leaping behind him, and collaring her arm around his neck. The Natural is cursed with a nauseating 360 whirl, before her tornado inverted DDT punishes his cranium against the canvas. Her home city reacts with an outpouring of excitement and jubilation, but there's little time for Alix to bask in their support, as One Eye Wallace is closing in on her. But Ally overtakes her fellow Los Angelino with a spinning back kick, that leaves him dazed and bleeding. The Hollywood Bad Girl then takes hold of his arm and whips him through a small outcropping of space towards the cables. Upon his return Wallace attempts to take out her legs with a baseball slide! Ally Cat avoids the sneaky tactic, leaping over Marcellus' full six feet and three inches, and carrying herself to the cables. Her return sees her bull towards Wallace, head lowered, and nostrils flaring. Rather then have her impale his testicles, he leapfrogs the perky diva and lets her continue traveling the ropes. As she nears him once more, One Eye falls onto his back, telegraphing a possible monkey flip! Ally Cat decides to show off for her fellow Californians, using a picturesque frontward flip to sail over his curled up frame! She uncoils behind Todd Cortez , who's too busy trading elbows with Quentin Benjamin to notice her emerging behind him. He's made aware of Alix's presence when she turns his organs inside out with a lung blower! No sooner then two seconds after Cortez is defeated, does Quentin Benjamin fall to the True Life:I just got beat up by a girl(STO)! In response to her besting of three people, the audience showers her with a geyser of cheers and applause. "If you ain't got no money, take yo broke ass home!" she screams to no one in particular. ALIX! ALIX! ALIX! After a flurry of kicks and chops, Mariachi manages to wear Biff Atlas down to the point where the exhausted bodybuilder can do nothing but sink to his BUTT, and lean his weary bones against the turnbuckle pad. The flamboyant superstar then does what any right thinking homosexual luchadore would do with his foe in that particular position, he attempts the Bronco Buster. As he backs away from Biff, Mariachi notices a glut bodies lies before him. But that brings him no worries for not even Patton's army could keep him from driving his testicles into the handsome brawler's face. Unfortunately, a diving shoulder tackle from Flex Phillips can, and it can also launch the Mexican through the ring ropes and to the outside mats. The nearby officials are quick to note that this does not count as an elimination, but that fact doesn't stop Phillips from flexing his HGH enhanced muscles. MONEYMAKER Biff Atlas is from Venice Beach, his parents and his siblings have come down to this arena to watch their youngest child, win a tag team title, and that disgraceful piece of filth Marinara tries to ruin it by rubbing his crotch in the man's face. COLE It's Mariachi, you said Marinara. MONEYMAKER Who gives a damn? They're half Mexican, half queer, and all stupidity. Moracca tries to capitalize on Phillips' vanity by hurling the self absorbed bodybuilder from the squared circle. But Biff repays Flex's previous favor, and spears the Cabo San Lucas native to the mat just seconds before he could get his claws on his partner. The members of the Atlas family in attendance tonight pay tribute to their kin with a round of applause. But all is not coming up roses for NRG, as the members of The Global Party Xchange try their hand at bundling Phillips out of this contest. But a right hook from Flex slams into Johnny's head, seconds before a left hand nearly slices Scotty's head off his neck. Quickly, Flex drags his carcass away from the ring ropes and darts towards a stunned Static. But Scotty recovers just in time to lob a discus punch towards his foe. But Flex swings away from it, and move his body towards Scotty's in order to lock him down with a full nelson! Static tries to worm his way free of the hold, but his efforts are for naught as Phillips compresses his spine with a full nelson atomic drop! Jackson is then the recipient of diving lariat, effectively pushing GPX's chances of eliminating Flex to the wayside. One person who's luck is faring a bit better then GPX's is Conquistador Uno, who has miraculously managed to topple Krista over the ropes. Under assault by a succession of glitter soaked gold boots, a panic stricken Miss California clutches onto the ring ropes, as the audience prays to whatever religious deity they can think of that she'll be able to wade through these troubling waters. ”LET'S GO KRISTA! LET'S GO KRISTA! LET'S GO KRISTA!” MONEYMAKER This it, Cole, prepare yourself to witness the crowning of new champions. This is what Los Conquistadors are here to do, eliminate Chicks Over Dicks! Despite being immigrants, Los Conquistadors have never failed The Enterprise before! COLE Immigrants? They're from New Mexico! You've employed them for five months, how do you not know that? Using his lanky arms to his advantage, Uno reaches through the ropes and hauls the dizzied champion to her feet. The audience openly wonders why Uno would rob himself of such an advantageous position. Their question is answered when they eye Dos crawling up the turnbuckles, ready to sacrifice his chance become a champion, in order to rob Krista's status as one. “Chinga tu madre!” He screams to the thousands of fans still rooting on the hometown heroine. Dos departs his perch and laces his black clad legs around Krissy's neck. However, his planned hurricanrana goes horribly awry when Krissy attaches her arms around his skinny legs and refuses to go down! The Staples Center crowd blares their approval for Krissy's resilience, as a shocked Uno makes moves to correct the problem she's caused. But whatever was his solution was to the vexing issue, will remain permanently locked in his mind, as Alix uses his back as a launching pad to propel herself towards Dos with a thrust kick! The New Mexico native shields his targeted face with his gloved hands, but can do nothing to prevent Krista from power bombing him towards the mats! As camera flashes litter the air, the defeated luchadore's body splatters about the canvas to the total disgust of Moneymaker and Mackenzie DeCenzo! The fans are beside themselves with glee, celebrating as though a simple elimination of Uno and Dos was enough to secure the tag titles. "THIS SHIT IS BANANAS. B-A-N-A-N-A-S!" Ally yells, borrowing from yesteryears catchphrases. MONEYMAKER What in the sam hill is going on here? It's not supposed to happen this way! The Moneymakers do not no disappointment! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LOS CONQUISTADORS LEFT: 4th ELIMINATED: None ELIMINATED BY: CHICKS OVER DICKS LEFT IN RING: 11 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Mackenzie's shouts of “Someone do something!” resonate within the mind of HI-YAH tag champ Lucius Soul. He darts through the maze of flesh, in order to undertake Los Conquistadors failed task of eliminating Chicks Over Dicks. When he nears the champions, he mimics Alix's prior movements, mounting his feet onto the cursive Uno written on the back of luchadore's costume. Like Alix, the smooth soul brother uses Uno's body to project him towards the apron based Krista. But rather then utilize a dropkick as Ally did, Soul situates himself atop the third cable in hopes that he can easily swat the blond goddess off. But these hopes go down in multicolored flames as Krista elevates herself next to Lucius' on the third cable. Not expecting her sudden change in location, Soul is left as a sitting duck on his orange tight rope. Krista capitalizes on his shocked state, by leaping into the ring, and as she sails past Soul she extends her legs behind her, causing her New Balance tennis shoes to impact perfectly on his back! The HI-YAH tag team champion is thrown from his ledge and into the unwitting arms of beleaguered Dos. A deafening ovation bounds from every inch of the arena, as Krista gracefully bows before her friends and family. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ THE MARDI GRAS HOMEWRECKING CREW LEFT: 5th ELIMINATED: None ELIMINATED BY: CHICKS OVER DICKS LEFT IN THE RING: 10 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ”C-O-D! C-O-D! C-O-D!” chant their nineteen thousand friends and family. COLE There goes the HI-YAH tag team champions! They had an opportunity to hold both the HI-YAH titles and the OAOAST tag titles, but Soul got too cute and too fancy and his team paid the price for it. A rookie mistake from a talented, but very young wrestler. Cole seems more perturbed about The Wrecking Crew's elimination then Rico, who quickly makes good use of his free time, marching towards the eighteen year old Maggie, and laying down that smooth Brazilian charm. For his part, Soul appears more worried about the health of his afro then his sudden ejection from the contest. Elsewhere it appears we're headed for another elimination, as SWF world champion Landon Maddix tosses Baron Windells over the ropes. Baron lands with his feet firmly entrenched on the ring apron, but this supposedly excellent footing evaporates the second Dinero Del Señor En El Banco slams a running shoulder block into his rival. The tremendous impact of the charge slings the sexy cowboy so far off the ring apron, this his fetching body lands impaled on the guardrail. Mister Money In The Bank begins to celebrate the sixth elimination of the contest. However his parade is rained on by the words of Billy Silverman, that inform him, and the nearby Melody Nerdly, that Baron is still in the match, because his feet have yet to touch the floor. “Don't worry Baron, I'll save you! I'm from the Internet!” Melody nonsensically screams as she rummages beneath the ring for god knows what. After much examining what lies bellow the battleground, the geeky Canadian unearths a lengthy ladder. The dangerous object generates quite the pop from the highspot hungry Californians. But the tool won't be utilized to facilitate any body splashes or moonsaults through tables tonight, as crafty Melody uses it as a bridge from the guard rail to the ring, to allow Baron passage into the contest. COLE That...was actually pretty smart on Melody's part. After nodding thanks to his helpful valet, Windels begins trekking across the makeshift platform. When he reaches the ring apron, he's intercepted by an enraged Maddix who pounds him with forearms. Baron raises his body past the cascade of the strikes, and valiantly fights against the SWF world champion. Eventually, Windels is able to overpower his smaller foe, and this victory allows him to trap Maddix into a front facelock. Despite trashing his against the grip, Maddix cannot prevent Baron from hauling him into the skies. All he can do is scream in terror, as Baron's vertical suplex lacerates his back through the ladder! “OOOOOOOOH!” go the audience in sympathy pain. “Baron Windells number one in ya hood, G!” Melody hollers, as Landon writhes in agony. MONEYMAKER If the man had any smarts, which he so obviously does not, he would've moved Maddix to the left and suplexed him onto the floor, and got an elimination. While ringside officials attend to an injured Maddix, America's Team makes it their personal mission to end CPA's participation within the contest. But like the previous men who've tried to chop down the Redwood, their efforts yield only failure; the big man hoists Moss into sky in a gorilla press slam position. He ambles towards the ropes, ready to throw the amateur wrestler into the fourth row. But Benjamin prolongs his team's pratcipation, by slamming a basement dropkick into the knees of CPA! The strike requires the howling monster to let Moss go free, and when the grappler lands on his feet he pitches CPA towards whatever superstar is willing to deal with him. It's Jock Mulligan who steps up to the plate and knocks CPA out of the park (but not the ring) with a Bandit Kick! The America's Team/Gunslinger confederation ends shortly thereafter as Moss and Benjamin begin terrorizing the hunky Texan. Unmoved by their numbers advantage, Jock strikes down Moss, then throws a discus lariat towards Benjamin. But QB lowers his shoulder and sends Jock toppling over the ropes! COLE Jock could be done here! The women in the audience scream with glee when they watch the sexy stud muffin land with both feet on the apron. Moss moves to eradicate the resilient Mulligan, but is countered by a shoulder block. The shot reduces Moss to a whimpering mess stretched between the second and third ropes. Jock takes the opportunity Moss' ill health has afforded him and ambles to the turnbuckles. He then charges forward, and beautifully implants his padded knee into the skull of the Minnesota native! Melody once again celebrates her teams' showing in the most unusual way, dancing around, waving a pokemon card into the air and singing “My pokemon brings all the nerds to the yard, and they're like, you wanna trade cards? Darn right, I wanna trade cards, I'll trade this but not my charizard!” Elsewhere, the “epic” struggle between Los Diablos De Fuego and NRG continues; Biff “Shampoo” Atlas and Moracca exchange colossal blows in the corner. Thanks to his incredible strength advantage, Shampoo is able to overpower the queer luchadore with a succession of right hooks. This conquest allows the hair fetishest to hook Moracca into a front facelock and situate him atop the highest turnbuckle. Biff joins his foe on the posts, ready to blast him with a suplex. But Moracca stages an admirable rebellion against the bodybuilder, slamming punches into his midsection. However, Biff's sheer power is again too much for Moracca to handle, and he's raised into the standing position for the superplex! But Vinny Santana and Scotty Static team up to shock both grapplers, when they sneak behind their position and give them one mighty shove off the ringposts! As the fans gasp in amazement, the pair nose dives off the turnbuckles, not stopping until their bodies are plastered across the ring mats! “SOUTH CENTRAL LOS ANGELES, MOTHER FUCKERS, IT AIN'T SAFE TO LEAVE YA HOUSE ROUD HERE!” Vincent proclaims to the great ecstasy of those audience members who hail from that section of Los Angeles. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Los Diablos De Fuego LEFT: 6th ELIMINATED: None ELIMINATED BY: THE SOUTH CENTRAL MILITIA & GPX LEFT IN THE RING: 9 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ NRG LEFT:7th ELIMINATED: None ELIMINATED BY: THE SOUTH CENTRAL MILITIA & GPX LEFT IN THE RING: 8 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ COLE Your boys Los Diablos are out of here, Moneymaker. MONEYMAKER My...my...my what? I wouldn't even let them clean my pool! They look like the guys working drive through at Taco Bell. While the officials escorted the befuddled Moracca and Biff Atlas to the backstage area, the action in the ring continues at a breakneck pace! Christian Wright and Todd Cortez trade punches, but with a nickname like “The Urban Legend” it's not much of a surprise when Mister Cortez gains the upper hand. With The Natural dazed and confused, Todd seeks to disable him with the Twist of Fate neckbreaker. But Wright makes sure no such move will occur when he shoves The Urban Legend into the ropes. However Cortez's body isn't deposited into the cables, rather it's caught by Wright's Enterprise mate, Simon Singleton, who lobs the superstar over the top rope with a back body drop! But, Cortez miraculously succeeds in landing with a hand attached to the ring apron. He quickly pushes himself back into the squared circle before the bloodthirsty Enterprise hounds can seize upon him. As he renters the match, he tosses a pair of jabs towards Singleton, then turns his attention to Wright with several knees to the gut. But Simon returns to the fracas, and overpowers Cortez with a round of elbow strikes. Feeling that TC has been sufficiently weakened, Simon prepares him for a DDT. But Todd isn't nearly as decrepit as Singleton led himself to believe, and he's exposed to this horrible fact, when Cortez breaks away from his grap, and launches him through the skies with a slingshot! Simon's screaming and hollering body collides with the two hundred twenty five pound brick wall known as Christian Wright, and Moneymaker's lackeys tumble to the canvas a vanquished duo. Elsewhere, Scotty Static aims a top rope crossbody block at Craig Patrick Allen, who's busy fighting off Quentin Benjamin. Unfortunately, bruiser's six feet and six inches afford him the ability to look past Benjamin and eye down Static's descending frame. Shoving aside QB as if he were nothing more then a common fruit fly, CPA steps forward to catch Static into his arms. He shifts the Hooligan's body across his chest, so that it lays face up along his shoulders. CPA then decimates his smaller foe, by pulverizing him with his finisher, The Dominator! However, his work isn't complete with the destruction of the two time tag team champion, as America's Team soars at him like guided missiles with a pair of shoulder blocks! CPA remains upright, however, offering little more reaction then an annoyed grunt. Not dissuaded by their flop, the duo retry their shoulder blocks. Once again they scarcely make a dent in the beast's armor, unable to move him a single inch. MONEYMAKER All throughout the contest, these peons, these second rate mental midgets, have tried to double my man out of this match. But, they've failed! They all failed, and they'll continue to fail, because The Enterprise is a force that can not be stopped. The former collegiate athletes decide to give it the ol college try one more time, and bounce of the ropes to blast Allen with a double lariat. But the burly pugilist has grown weary of being their personal tackling dummy, and terminates their efforts with a swipe of his left hand! The former team Heyross is left dazed, and through a quickly played game of eeny-meeny-miny-mo, CPA chooses to target Moss for elimination. And so young Charles is heaved over the top rope like a rag doll. MONEYMAKER (excitedly) Moss is..... Landing on the ring apron, much to Moneymaker's chagrin. Unfortunately for him, CPA ventures to his location to fulfill his boss' wishes of an America's Team elimination. But Moss cages the incoming beast with a front facelock. Despite being a strapping young athlete, Charlie is incapable of lifting CPA's massive poundage into the air for a vertical suplex Thus, Benjamin is required to lend his assistance, grabbing onto Allen's ankles and trying to heave him out of the ring. For all their grunting, sweating, and general hardwork, the duo get nowhere as Ned watches on in the background ,a devious grin taking hold of his face. The Handsome Hustler feigns contemplation over turning on his Enterprise partner to assist in his elimination. He eventually takes the predictable path, moseying on over to Moss and casually shoving him off the apron and out of this contest! “BOOOOOOOO!” MONEYMAKER (singing) God bless America, glorious and free, proud with my trumpet.... COLE I don't think those are the lyrics to that song MONEYMAKER The lyrics are whatever the hell I say they are! Don't you ever talk over me again. It may very well get violent out here if you try that again. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ America's Team LEFT:8th ELIMINATED: None ELIMINATED BY: THE BEVERLY HILLS BLONDS LEFT IN THE RING: 7 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Benjamin and Moss have to be restrained by the officials from returning towards the ring to wage war on the smirking Enterprise members. The crowd feeds ofF the anger of America's Team and begins to jeer violently, hateful music that's only a delight to the ears of Ned and Christopher Patrick Allen. MONEYMAKER Bwahahaah! That's only a preview of the fate that awaits America's Team when The Enterprise faces them for the six man titles. With space seemingly cleared by the minute (or by the paragraph), muscular bodies like that of One Eye Wallace are able to move more freely in order to wreak their personalized brand of havoc. And wreak havoc he does, as he throws Landon Maddix into the ring posts. The thuggish grappler then tries to squash La Cucaracha with a body splash. However Maddix yanks his figure away from Marcellus' trajectory, leaving the man to collide with steel posts. Normally, Landon “the king of battle royals” Maddix would take advantage of Wallace's groggy state to dump him out of the ring. But he's unable to do such a thing, thanks to Jock Mulligan zeroing in on him with an avalanche! Maddix quickly skirts aside, and Mulligan's figure slams into One-Eye as a result! The sudden jolt seems to shake Wallace from his stupor, and place him into a status of blood-red rage. Acting on this sizable anger, he mows Mulligan down with a lariat! Landon isn't spared from Wallace's wrath, either, and is dropped with a high knee lift. One Eye's work isn't finished yet, as Johnny Jackson begins peppering him with right hands. Soon the two warriors have locked themselves into all out slug fest, wildly tussling against the cables. “S-C-M! S-C-M!” the South Central contingent chant, marking the first (and probably only) time you'll ever hear an SCM chant. Ever the crafty one, Maddix uses their little scuffle to his advantage, and with the aid of Todd Cortez lifts the pair up and over the ring cables! But the two men manage to grab hold of the ropes, stunning the fans who thought their time in this contest was at an end. Jackson and Wallace drag themselves back onto the apron. However, they completely ignore the team that just tried to eliminate them and instead return to the task of hammering each other with crazed haymakers. Insulted at the slight from the grapplers, Landon is all like “wtf todd? Let's smoke these bitches.” Well, maybe those weren't his exact words. But whatever was his real scheme was will forever remain a mystery, thanks to Jock Mulligan hitting he and his partner with a double bulldog! Abandoning the battered carcasses of Maddix and Cortez, The Texas Twister heads into battle with Jackson and Wallace. One Eye takes the intelligent, yet cowardly, road and drops to the mat to preserve his safety. This narrows the brawl down to Mulligan and Johnny Jackson. But Johnny is no match for the raw punching power of the Lone Star hunk, and with one resounding thrust of his arm, Mulligan takes Jackson out of the contest with a simple punch! The audience doesn't know what to thing, upset that an oaoast favorite was eliminated, but pleased to see the Gunslingers continue their meteoric rise through the tag division. GPX isn't as nearly as indecisive as the audience, and show great sportsmanship by congratulating The Gunslingers, and wishing them good luck for the rest of the bout. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ GPX LEFT:9th ELIMINATED: NRG, LOS DIABLOS DE FUEGO ELIMINATED BY: THE LONESTAR GUNSLINGERS LEFT IN RING: 6 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ MONEYMAKER Can you say uhhh uhhh naaa naaa? No, but I can say get the hell out of my match, you just got eliminated! BWWAHAAHAHA! Melody isn't shy about expressing her joy for her squad's showing in the contest, “Hey, Jock! Roses are #FF0000 Violets are #0000FF All my base Are belong to you !” MONEYMAKER God must have fouled up when he was assigning personalities in heaven. Somewhere I believe there's a pasty white, morbidly obese shut in walking around with a Tyra Banks-esque personality. If you are the owner of this personality, please return to it to Melody at once. BWAHAHAHAH! COLE Why do you have to laugh at everything you say? MONEYMAKER Because everything I say is worth it's weight in gold, wisdom, comedy and genius. COLE Truly. Fans, HeldDOWN returns after we collect some of that sweet ad revenue! Don't go away! COMMERCIAL BREAK! When we return from break, we witness Vinny Santana making a crazed towards Alix. But to the audience's enormous glee, Ally disposes of him with her famous dropsault. She tosses in an agile twist to her trademark move, and lands perfectly on her feet. Beaming with joy, she blows kisses to the cheering audience, unaware of the sly Ned Blanchard sneaking behind her. Rather then attempt an opportune elimination, as one might expect, The Ned Man instead chooses to satisfy his yearning libido. He draws the extreme outrage (and jealously) of the capacity crowd, by clasping his hands around her enormous milk jugs. He vigorously jiggles her enormous jugs, while his mouth emits groans of orgasmic ecstasy, and Alix wonders how much she can get in a sexual harassment law suit. "BLANCHARD SUCKS! BLANCHARD SUCKS!" chant the fans, that are hushed down by Mackenzie DeCenzo. MONEYMAKER That's why I respect the hell out of Ned, a true gentlemen. He treats a lady like a lady, and a tramp like a tramp! And even more admirable, he's dedicated his title win to his daughter, who's mind is being poisoned by that liberal thought terrorist, Krista Isadora Duncan. Having had enough of the sexual assault, Alix begins to turn his ten seconds of pleasure into a lifetime of pain, first by elbowing her boobs free of his clutches, and then by rotating her figure into an enziguri! Ned ducks her roving leg, but she manages to land on her feet. She doesn't stay standing for long, though, as Blanchard sweeps her legs away with a double leg takedown. The Ned Man then scurries up to the highest turnbuckle, gleefully preparing to swan dive head first into Ally's flesh pillows. Unfortunately, a big boot from Enterprise mate CPA sends Vinny Santana tumbling into the nearby ropes, crotching Ned on the turnbuckles, and crushing his fantasies of entering Alix's land of milk and silicone. “YEAAAAAAAA!” Astoundingly, Ned has managed to go the entire contest without incurring the vengeance of his child's mother, Krista Isadora Duncan. But stuck atop the turnbuckle, with nothing but an army of hostile brawlers laid in front of him, it appears his luck has run out. Murder in her blue eyes, Krista utilizes the middle ropes to preform a handstand that allows her to wrap her lovely legs around her old flame's head. Normally, this is a position Ned would kill to be in, but in his particular situation he's quite adverse to it, and works to move her into an elevated boston crab. However, he meets with little success as Krissy delights the fans by lifting her flexible body so that it sits squarely on Ned's lap. Ned asks, “And what would you like for Christmas, little girl? Oooh wait. Oooooooh, oooooh, ooooh. Yeah, Santa just grew himself a twelve inch stocking stuffer.” He remarks, through a chuckle. Disgusted, Krista replies by firing her elbow into Blanchard's face, thrilling the now standing fans. Another solid elbow tears through his flesh, causing him to grimace in pain. Gritting his teeth against the impact of the strikes, he lobs carefully measured fists towards her collarbone, while she punds ceaselessly at his sweat stained face. “KRISTA! KRISTA! KRISTA!” MONEYMAKER This is it! This is what The Enterprise came to do, make sure Chicks Over Dicks loses their titles in their hometown. You try and humiliate The Enterprise, and you go to war with us. And, Cole, just like this great country of ours, The Enterprise never loses a war. COLE Since when are you such a patriot? MONEYMAKER I've always bleed red,white, blue unlike the liberal propagandists here in Hollywood! I eat democracy and crap patriotism! Ned's arms flail out, his left nailing her so hard, it nearly topples her from his lap. Krissy bites down on her lower lip to keep from crying out, while continuing to attack with her eblows elbows. Ned drives his angled fist even deeper into her flesh, as he positions her body towards the edge of the ring ropes. The chance of Miss California's elimination sets off alarm bells in the fans' heads, and they desperately urge her to fight back. But it's Ally who answers the battle call, rescuing her girl by taking her into a back suplex position. She pulls her away from the snarling Ned, who's more upset with not having his hot ex-girlfriend on his lap, then being unable to dispatch her from the contest. The Handsome Hustler raises to his full vertical base, readying to descend upon the champions like an angel of death. But his dream degenerates into a nightmare, as Ally uses Krista's extended legs to bulldoze Ned from his ledge! Joined by the roar of thousands, Blanchard plunges through the arena air! His unmoving body is impaled upon the metal ring steps, before sputtering onto the mats. Shocked by the grosteque nature of his elimination, Mackenzie runs from her director's chair to her shattered charge. Bending over him, she lays her hand against his cheek, trying and failing to gain a response. ”YEAAAAAAA!” Smirking contemptuously, an overjoyed Krista, still atop Alix's shoulders, simply waves bye-bye to the obliterated corpse of the reason she's a card carrying member of GLAAD. COLE Ned said, he was going to embarrass Krista, but it looks like she's the one who embarrassed him! Go on homegirl! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Beverly Hills Blonds LEFT:10th ELIMINATED: America's Team ELIMINATED BY: CHICKS OVER DICKS LEFT IN RING: 5 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Los Angeles sings the name of it's adored daughters, ”C-O-D! C-O-D! C-O-D!” Somewhere bellow the cloudburst of cheers is Krista's airy voice telling Alix, “Put me down! Put me down!” MONEYMAKER Son of a bitch, Michael Cole! Real Americans like Ned and Simon tossed out by a liberal, anti-American lesbian single mother and her anorexic, pill popping pony girl! That's Hollywood for ya. You're a dead man, Michael Cole. COLE What the heck have I done? MONEYMAKER You exist. Aghast with indignation over his associates' removal, Christian Wright darts towards his hated rivals! It's a good thing Alix hasn't followed Krista's orders to set her down, as she's able to use Miss California as a baseball bat to foul away The Natural! Wright, is unrelenting, however, and once again rampages towards the adored champions. Ally finally grants Krista's wish to be set free, but does so in a way most harmful to Wright, chucking Krista at the oncoming grappler. Krissy wraps her legs around his neck and pulls him over for a hurricanrana that enraptures the spectators! Nauseated, Wright brings himself upright, only to be bludgeoned by a wave of punches from Baron Windels! Unable to stage a suitable defense, the overmatched Natural is knocked over the ropes and to the apron. Krista rushes capitalize on Christian's terrible position, but she's tackled to the mat by the man beast, Christopher Patrick Allen! MONEYMAKER That a boy! The Enterprise is as strong as we've ever been! Free from the threat of Krista Isadora Duncan, Wright clamors to his feet. He latches onto the ropes and begins to slingshot himself into the warzone. But just as soon as he moves upright, Jock Mulligan springs forward to horsewhip him with a Bandit Kick! His boot slashes through Wright's face, and the Washington DC native tumbles like a rock towards the mats bellow. The solid flooring jolts him as he splashes into the canvas. He kicks madly back up to his feet, verbose mouth demanding some type of inane redo, as the audience cheers loudly for his defeat. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Christian Wright and Craig Patrick Allen LEFT:11th ELIMINATED: None ELIMINATED BY: THE LONESTAR GUNSLIGNERS LEFT IN RIGHT: 4 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “RIIIIDE MEEEEEEE COWWWWBOOOYYYYSSS! YEEEEEEHAAAAAWWW!” screams Melody. So overcome with excitement, she even snags her little sister, Maggie in a preemptive victory hug. Maggie simply makes a face that reads “Please, tell me I'm adopted.” MONEYMAKER Damn it all to hell! The Lonestar Gunslingers don't belong in the same universe as The Enterprise, much less the same match! I feel like making like Alix after dinner, and vomiting. The only good thing about the Gunslingers is that stupid little blond. COLE So we're down to the final four, The Lonestar Gunslingers, The South Central Militia, Landon Maddix and Todd Cortez and the reigning champions, Chicks Over Dicks. MONEYMAKER My hopes and my dreams rest with Landon Maddix and Todd Cortez. Proud countrymen, proud athletes, and proud millionaires if they can get the titles away from those acid tripping dykes. And don't tell me I can't say that! I practically own this network, you won't Imus Theodore Moneymaker! “Damn, ya'll peckerwoods steady stay on ya grind!” Proclaims One Eye Wallace, displaying a platinum toothed smile towards the amped up Gunslingers. MONEYMAKER Translate. COLE “Wow, my friend, you country boys constantly do an admirable job at your chosen vocation.” One Eye and Vinny show further respect to the cowboys by slapping hands, and raising their arms in triumph. Unfortunately the gangsta's soon expose the Texans' naievette, by THROWING THEM OVER THE ROPES the second the make the fatal mistake of turning their backs! Melody shrieks in horror as she watches her team plummet into the abyss of elimination just seconds after tasting the fruit of success. “That is the suck!” She bemoans. “Maggie, this is all your fault!” MAGGIE ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Lonestar Gunslingers LEFT:12th EIMINATED: The Heavenly Rockers, GPX, Christian Wright & CPA ELIMINATED BY: THE SOUTH CENTRAL MILITIA LEFT IN RING: 3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ In any other city in the world, the Militia's bit of trickery would see them served with an order of boos, but we're in LA tonight, and all we get is a raucous ovation for the homeboys' fourth elimination. MONEYMAKER Idiots. Everybody. If the remaining three teams were suffering exhaustion from having to outlast thirteen other warriors, it's certainly not evidenced in the way they wage war on one another, each person pairing off with another rival to stage their own private battle. Alix takes Cortez, Vinny and Krista fight, and One-Eye and Maddix slug it out. Landon leaps onto the shoulders of Wallace to hurricanrana him out of the squared circle. Yet it's Landon's who's dipped over the ropes by the Wallace, popping the audience! COLE Landon Maddix is done! Cole's claim came seconds too early, as Landon hooks onto the turnbuckle pads behind him, and utilizes his lower body strength to pull the south central gangsta up with him. Hovering between the ring and the apron, One-Eye frantically fights to free himself from the clutches of Dinero Del Señor En El Banco' . But the fiercer his resistance grows, the stronger Landon's grip becomes, and Maddix eventually succeeds in dumping him to the apron. But that victory costs Landon his hold on Marcellus, and the brawler quickly scuttles into the ring. Landon soon rejoins him and their pair resume their exchange of punches. Maddix wins the exchange by driving his knee into Marcellus' gut. Stunned, One-Eye can do nothing to prevent the South Dakotan lifting him into a fireman's carry position. The worried fans, fear that Maddix is preparing to hurl Wallace over the ropes. But Landon surprises them, by tossing One Eye off his shoulder, and implanting his knee into the man's descending head with the Go 2 Sleep! Wallace somehow stays upright, but the glazed over look on his face makes it obvious that he's under a grand amount of pain. His ill health permits Maddix to stride forward and shove him over the ring cables! But in midfall, the gangsta “awakens” from the Go 2 Sleep just in time to latch onto the middle rope! He painstakingly pulls himself upright, but is met with a flurry of punches from the furious SWF world champion! But One Eye is granted an unexpected assist from Alix Spezia, who rushes to their location and dropkicks Landon over the ring ropes! “ALIX! ALIX! ALIX!” While Alix is free to soak up the jubilation from her native land, One Eye has to fend off crazed strikes from a man who's desperate to acquire oaoast gold. With only one swipe of his arm, Wallace knocks Landon back into a ringpost. He then grabs the struggling wrestler's throat and presses him into the air, wishing to chokeslam him off the apron. But Todd Cortez saves his partner a trip to the ER by diving across the ring to blast his forearm into the One Eyed monster's one eyed monster! “AHHH SHIT!” Wallace bellows, having the good sense to fall into the ring to attend to his considerable anguish. Without warning, Vincent Santana surges through Cortez, skewering him with a spear. An instant latter, Vinny's fists snap forward like the jaws of a trap. Diamond ring covered fingers pierce Cortez's face, slamming the back of his head against the ring. However the savage strikes meet an abrupt finale, when Krista pulls Vincent away by the strands of his dirty blond hair. Cussing and screaming, Vinny tries to tear himself free of the woman's vicious pinions Unfortunately his efforts are wasted, as the fitness queen pumps a right hand into his chin. A left darts along his cheek, followed by right that explodes upon his left eye. Left nearly blind, Vincent Santana stumbles back and forth with the grace of a town drunk. With her foe conquered by misery and dizziness, Krissy takes time out to admire her unmatched beauty. She removes a compact mirror from her top, then flips it open to gaze upon her traffic stopping looks. Finally, she plants a kiss onto her angelic reflection, then chucks the mirror into the stands where the frenzied audience battles for ownership of the priceless souvenir. Miss California then refocuses her attention on Vincent and drives him to the canvas with a leg lariat! While he squirms in anguish, his enemy carts herself to the ropes. But instead of charging back like usual, Krista decides to treat her home fans to a scintillating dance show, and salsa dances towards him. Her curvaceous hips gyrate in steamy allurement, while her arms wiggle through a pattern of mesmerizing euphoria. Unfortunately for Vincent, he's the only one in the audience who doesn't enjoy the exhibition, as it ends with the point of Krista's knee is driven into his forehead! MONEYMAKER Sexy moves, indeed. Ones she no doubt learned grinding the pole at Big Louie's Titty City. How do you think she put herself through grad school? Maybe you should ask Ned the real story on how they met! The chants of “KRISTA! KIRSTA!” scarcely leave the lips of the capacity crowd before Todd Cortez grabs hold of their beloved child's luscious blond locks and flings her over the ropes! The audience reacts in total shock and terror, deathly certain that they've witnessed the end of COD's title regin. But Krista alleviates their fears by skinning the cat back into the squared circle. Yet, no one's able to breathe any sigh of relief as One Eye Wallace is angling to finish her off with a running boot! Krissy sweeps bellow the incoming missile, and Wallace finds himself caught on the ring ropes, suddenly in grave danger. Landon Maddix realizes the perilousness of Marcellus' position and rushes towards him to abolish him from the ring. Wallace tries to intercept his charge with a wave of his fist, but the simple counter can do nothing to prevent Landon from jettisoning him to the floor! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The South Central Militia LEFT:13h EIMINATED: The Love Doctors, Los Diablos De Fuego, NRG, The Lonestar Gunslingers ELIMINATED BY: MARTIAL LAW LEFT IN RING: 2 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “BOOOOOOOO” groan the fans, both out of anger to see The Militia eliminated, and out of anger in seeing Maddix one step closer to tag team gold. “Thank you, thank you! No applause!” Maddix remarks , even forcing a solitary tear of joy to trickle down his cheek. The jeers of the fans eventually transform into a round of appreciative applause for the South Central Militia's efforts in the contest. Of course the always self centered Maddix thinks this showing of support is for him, and comments. “I said no applause, damn it!” MONEYMAKER And so here we are, Cole, with Landon Maddix and Todd Cortez seconds away from an inevitable title victory. How very fitting and appropriate that the title change will occur in the land of stars, because Landon Maddix and Todd Cortez may be the biggest stars in the oaoast, outside of The Enterprise, of course. While Theodore may be ready to break out the champagne, his predicted champions still have the pesky matter of vanquishing the current title holders, who have an entire state firmly on their side. Cortez, as usual, is far more proactive then his partner, and seizes Ally's wrist to toss her towards the corner. He charges after her, assuming he'll be able to lariat her over the ropes. Unfortunately, this won't be the case, as The Hollywood Bad Girl latches onto the top ropes and flings her body into air. The second Cortez nears, Alix's legs snake around his neck for a head scissors. But he reacts quickly, taking hold of her ankles, and catapulting her figure onto the ring apron. She lands on her feet, but is instantly put on the defensive by Todd's shoulder block attempt. Ally counters his strike by smashing her knee into forehead, rifling him back into the ring and causing him an immeasurable amount of pain. “C-O-D! C-O-D! C-O-D!” The people sing. While Krista and Maddix trade chops in the background, Alix escalates to the top turnbuckle. She patiently waits for The Urban Legend to rise, and when he does, her bewitching legs once again tangle around his neck. Using his overpowering strength, Cortez shifts his body to face away from Alix, so that he can simply electric chair drop her from the squared circle. But Alix again thwarts his plans, this time by bending backwards over the ropes, and employing her furry footwear in a crowd pleasing choke on her foe. MONEYMAKER A rather flexible young lady, I see. That can be very handy. Maybe if she keeps her mouth shut, learns to be a bit more respectable and subservient, I might make her as one of my many mistresses. COLE Keep dreaming, Moneymaker. Alix, after much prodding from the ringside officials, finally releases Cortez. But the excitement and attention is located elsewhere, focused squarely on Landon Maddix who's trapped Krista within a standing fireman's carry. Stricken with panic, Ally rushes to Krista's aid, but she can only look on with horrified eyes as Landon's Go 2 Sleep wreaks havoc upon her girlfriend's physical health. “LANDON SUCKS DICK! LANDON SUCKS DICK!” the audience screams MONEYMAKER They like that kind of thing out here in California, don't they, Cole? Overwrought with anger, Alix lunges for Landon, her procession of kicks and chops throwing tremors of pain throughout his body! But a clenched fist explodes from his side, and bulldozes Alix into the corner. He dashes towards her vulnerable figure, only to be rebuffed by an elbow strike. The counter doesn't deter Landon, however, and he again for the feisty diva! Ally greets his charge by lifting her legs into the sky, then locking the tanned limbs around his shoulders. Maddix counteracts her efforts, by tipping her body over the ropes. Soon Todd Cortez, joins his side and elimination appears only mere moments away! Desperate to see Alix and Krista to victory, the city of angels rally their daughter with a rousing “LET'S GO ALIX!” chant. Spurred on the by the love of the fans, Alix finds the strength to preform a modified handstand that gives her the base she needs to lower her legs onto the ring apron. The exhausted champ speedily bustles back into the squared circle, but she's afforded no time to rest; The Urban Legend drags her upright. But, a sudden flurry of movement cuts short his offensive attack. Her faux fur covered boot explodes forward in a superkick, striking Todd with the force of a wrecking ball! The former SWF tag champion crashes through the ropes behind him, landing on the ring mats so hard, the impact may have cracked the concrete bellow. As Megan Skye makes a half hearted inquiry to his health, the fans let loose with a monstrous cheer, thinking their girls have won the match. But the referees are quick to point out that Cortez went through the ropes, not over, drawing a chorus of boos. MONEYMAKER The ignorance here is damning. The rules were well stated when the match started, it's not the referees fault if you the fans can't even remember what happened a half an hour ago. With his partner incapacitated, Maddix realizes that his chances for title victory are rapidly thinning. Thus he forces the bone weary Alix onto his shoulders in the familiar standing fireman's carry hold. Inching closer to the ropes, Landon showcases his beautiful victim to the wrathful audience, before finally slinging her off his shoulders, and slashing his knee into her face on her fall. COLE Another Go 2 Sleep from Landon Maddix! “¡Buenas Nooooooooochessss!” Landon sings in an exceptionally high pitched voice “FUCK YOU LANDON! FUCK YOU LANDON!” the fans yell. MONEYMAKER I thought people on the West Coast were supposed to be more polite and laid back. What gives here? With volcanic eruptions of anguish pulverizing her skull, Alix is completely incapable of preventing Landon from scooping her up and disposing her from the ring. Fortunately, she doesn't have to, because a resurgent Krista, returns to the fray to unleash thudding elbow strikes to an unsuspecting Maddix! The onlookers cheer wildly, as pair of whirling back kicks double over a now nauseous Maddix. Krissy then situates her hands on the mat, and wraps her legs around Landon's neck. The hapless grappler is spun through the air, then deposited on his back courtesy of the spinning head scissors! “YEAAAAAAAA!” bellows the crowd, that's been on their feet for the past ten minutes. The force of Krista's aerial assault leaves the Spanish born wrestler stunned and breathless, but he's somehow able to scrape himself away from the canvas, and fire off a lariat. But the strike moves far too slowly to be effective, and Krista bends her limber body backwards to avoid it. COLE Taking a page out of Keanu Reeves playbook from the Matrix! Maddix, who thought the Matrix was an overrated piece of pretentious crap, is unamused by her shenanigans. Thus he swings one leg over her elevated torso, then violently drops his crotch onto her tightly toned stomach, smashing her into the canvas! MONEYMAKER Landon Maddix is fighting a one on two match against both tag team champions, and he's winning, Michael Cole, he's winning big time. That's why he's a world champion! Because world champions can get victory no matter what the odds. Landon's boot tears into Krista's throat, causing her every breath to produce a spasm of agony. While his choke reduces Krista's body into a dried husk, the despised superstar begins singing show tunes “We're in the money! We're in the money! We've got what it takes to get along!” At the request of the outside officials, Landon ceases his choke hold (but not his singing, unfortunately). Still whistling his tune, he lifts Krista to her feet, and slings her over his shoulders. The fans groan, believing their about to witness another Go 2 Sleep. But Landon's intentions for Krista are far more sinister. He plans on heaving her over the cables, securing his victory and robbing her of her tag team titles. But as he nears the ropes, her limp body suddenly springs to life, and her hands desperately attach themselves to the cables. The crowd bursts with joy, but Landon is outright enraged, and vehemently increases his efforts to dismiss Miss California from the contest. But it's a task that quickly turns impossible when a recovered Alix pulls Krissy away from his prison! “C-O-D! C-O-D! C-O-D!"the city sings, willing their girls onto victory. Sensing that his Cinderella title dreams are fast turning into a midnight pumpkin, Maddix begins detonating wild punches on The Hollywood Bad Girl's body. But, while places Ally on the defensive, he has zero counters for Krissy, and she effortlessly tumbles him onto the apron with flipping dropkick! The spectators are rabid as COD's victory grows closer by the second. COLE Your man is trouble, Moneybags! MONEYMAKER He's a world champion, you emaciated troll. World champions are never in trouble! Landon pie faces an approaching Krista away from him, thinking that will be able to buy him reentry into the ring. But his numbers disadvantage shatters those dreams, as Alix steps between the ropes to join him on the tenuous ledge! Maddix greets her arrival with a lethal lariat, but she evades the strike and his arm and body harmlessly sail by. The aftermath of his missed move isn't as harmless, however, as Krista grabs onto his head and slices his neck through the ring ropes! Jolts of pain now ripping through his neck, Landon staggers from side to side, eventually walking himself into Alix's deadly diamond cutter! Maddix crumbles to the apron, shrieking in chilling pain, as his battered body sinks to outside mats, a victim of the match's final elimination. COLE That's it! It's over! It's over! MONEYMAKER No! No! Not fair! Not fair god damn it! Not fair! The screams of glee from the girls' home city are utterly deafening, shaking the building to it's very foundation as Girlfriend returns to the audio forefront of the arena. Alix instantly leaps into Krista's arms, forgetting that the dog tired woman has been the victim several high impact moves through the course of the contest. But Krista is so overwhelmed with delight, that she matches Ally's embrace, a moment that's captured for an eternity by the flashes of thousands of camera phones. Maybe not an eternity. Maybe just until the phones break. Which they do. Often. fuk u verizon. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Martial Law LEFT:15th EIMINATED:The South Central Militia ELIMINATED BY: CHICKS OVER DICKS LEFT IN RING: 1 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ MAGGIE Los Angeles, I don't have to say anything, you go ahead and do it. Needing no further prompting, the audience accepts Maggie's invite.... “THE WINNER AND STILL WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS, CHICKS OVER DICKS!” they scream, before breaking into another round of gargantuan cheers. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ CHICKS OVER DICKS THE WINNAHZ! ELIMINATED:Rescue 911, Los Conquistadors, The Mardi Gras Homewrecking Crew, The Beverly Hills Blonds, Martial Law ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Maddix lies a defeated wreck, sagged against the ring apron, stripped of every last drop of his vitality. His mouth is as dry as the most expansive of deserts, unable to even mutter an answer to Megan's questions towards his health. His sweat soaked tights feel like sandpaper against his raw dehydrated skin. His partner has already retreated up the ring ramp, an icy chill penetrating his bones as he watches the celebration surrounding him. COLE Brilliant plan, Theodore. Worked perfectly. Very good job. I'll sure miss Alix and Krista as tag team champions. MONEYMAKER In the sixties these two would've been locked behind the walls of a mental hospital! Homosexuality was defined as a mental disorder, but gay groups put pressure on the American Psychiatric Association to force them to drop it as a disorder! That is the first and only time in the history of medicine that a disease disappeared because of the demands of people suffering from it. Can you imagine cancer patients getting it removed from the medical encyclopedia. It's absurd! Your kind and those lezzies up their with their tuxedos and cigars, should be locked away! Not celebrated on national TV, and looked at as heroines. COLE Tuxedos and cigars? Update your stereotypes, sweetheart. Do you need a hug? MONEYMAKER No. Because I still have Jade Rodez on my side, and nothing can ever change that. They didn't take anything from me, they just protected what they already had. I stole from them, and I will steal again. And who can stop The Enterprise? Nobody. Krista and Alix toss their arms over one another's shoulders, as they showcase their titles and glowing smiles to their thrilled fans. Though both women can barley stand on their own to feet, they make it a point to share in their city's jubilation. COLE For, Theodore Moneymaker.... MONEYMAKER You don't speak for a billionaire! COLE Very, well, for myself, goodnight from Los Angeles, we will see you next week from Omaha, Nebraska! With the fans still chanting “C-O-D! C-O-D!” we fade to blackness! GOODNIGHT

CABOOSE PROMO? The view is sofa central, or Michael Cole at least. Though we do see Mackenzie DeCenzo, attired in chic business suit, situated atop a director's chair, behind the announcer. Coach is apparently absent, and whether that's a good or bad thing is a value judgment I leave you to make. COLE Fans, it's time for the mainevent of our spectacular show. You see Mackenzie DeCenzo positioned behind me in a director's chair, she's very eager to observe the upcoming contest. As is my guest on commentary, the CEO of The Enterprise, and the richest man in sports entertainment, Theodore Moneymaker. Mister Moneymaker, welcome to sofa central. MONEYMAKER The pleasure is all your's, Michael Cole, I assure you. Sofa central, huh? What city dump did you drag this dilapidated piece of crap out of. I feel like I should've called the Orkin man to fumigate before I set down. COLE I'm so terribly sorry that my meager accommodations do not meet your high and lofty standards. Now, you are the man responsible for this tag title battle royal, using your clout as a TSM investor to go over the head of the oaoast matchmakers to get this contest created. I think it's fairly obvious that you're doing this to get back at Chicks Over Dicks, embarrass them, and cost them their titles in their hometown. MONEYMAKER You have it all wrong, as usual, Cole. This is about opportunity! This is about pitting fifteen of the greatest tag teams in the world to fight over the greatest prize in all of tag team wrestling. I'm not like Chicks Over Dicks, your current champions. All they care about is their fame, and the spotlight, and being the “it” girls, and partying. Wrestling means nothing to them! I love this sport, and I wish to uphold it's many traditions and excellencies! COLE Come on! MONEYMAKER And if they should lose their tag titles tonight, preferably to a member of The Enterprise, I wouldn't be overly upset about that. COLE Let's turn it over to Maggie Nerdly. The hostess with the mostess, eighteen year old Maggie, has positioned herself atop the second turnbuckle, peering into the rabid audience. Her attire is that of a unique mixture of prep and goth, ruffled black mini skirt with a detectable rose embodiment, fishnet stockings that plunge into green army boots, purple mesh wrist bands that stretch to her elbows, and black polo shirt from Hollister, with the right side of the collar popped into the air. MAGGIE LA, it's been a beautiful night! You've been off the chain, and we've had some great matches and heard some great interviews, but are you ready for your main event? Because if you are make some noise! As prompted the sold out arena throws forth an army of cheers and applause. MAGGIE Then the upcoming match is a fifteen team, battle royal for the most coveted title in tag team wrestling the oaoast world tag team titles! Let's get this party started on a Thursday night! The sound of bars slamming that marks the opening of Cross That Line by Rick Ross slithers through the arena. The fans buzz with a joyful anticipation not likely to be found in any other arena in America, as the lights shine a blue glow upon the staging. Convict....Convict....Convict Up front Yeah.... Convict Music A direful piano melody increases the dramatic tension of the mood, while images of the South Central Militia's various conquests flash across the Angletron. Small outcroppings of “MILITIA!” chants begin to seep from the higher sections of the arena. Oooooh ooooh oooooh If you ever cross that line I guarantee ya there'll be nothin' to save ya (save ya, save ya) I got a whole bunch of gorillas ready to pull the trigga And we all for that paper (paper) Comin' from a life of crime Tryna be on my best behavior You see my rep's gettin' bigger but still that same nigga bustin' shots at them haters (them haters, them haters) But only if you cross that line The enormous bass of Rick Ross' gangsta theme sends tremors through the arena's floor, as the small cheers now grow in an enormous manner. The entrance doors rip apart, showcasing The South Central Militia to the only city in the world that appreciates their unique personas, their home, Los Angeles, California. A rocking ovation joins the booming nature of their entrance as One-Eye Wallace rushes through a cloud of smoke to enthusiastically toss up gang signs to his applauding hometown. White tank top covering his near emaciated upper body, and legs housed behind a pair of Artful Dodger jeans who's backside feature intricate cursive lettering above a drawing of a rose, Vincent Santana simply stands with his hands folded, nodding with the satisfied smugness that being in front of your own people brings. MONEYMAKER These men are convicted criminals, drug dealers, pimps, and a blight on their community. And of course these people cheer for them! Just because they're from the same city doesn't mean you have to cheer them! What kind of miserable place is this? Outfitted in a pair of pale electric blue jeans, that boast brilliant gold dollar signs on their rear pockets, Marcellus Wallace patrols the entrance stage, emitting fierce howls, that are eagerly matched by those audience members nearest the stage. MAGGIE Introducing team numero uno! First, throwing it up for all his homies in cell block six, he is the 2002 San Quentin State prison's worst prisoner of the year, Marcellus “One-Eye” Wallace! And his partner...lodi doddi, he likes to party, he don't cause trouble, he don't bother nobody, he is VINCENT “WHITEY” SANTANAAAAA!” Together they're representing for all the real hoods, the real gangsters, the real pimps, and the real players of Los Angeles County, they are the SOUTH CENTRAL MILITIAAAAA! The end of Maggie's introduction is serenaded by grand applause from the fans. The Militia who usually use their trip down the ramp to insult and berate the oaoast fanbase, now rake in the positive reaction, rolling their fists through the air and pointing towards those fans who proudly hoist their SCM signs into the sky. MONEYMAKER Those are children with those signs, Michael Cole. Children are holding up signs supporting felons and drug dealers. Has this city no shame? No honor? The south Los Angeles soldiers dive into the squared circle, while blue and gold lights dance around the battlefield. Both men ascend to the top turnbuckle, where their arms move into the skies, matching the cheers which grow to their highest point yet. After the Cross That Line fades into nothingness, a familiar sermon enters The Staples Center 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... The playful musing of O-Town's Make Her Say keeps the crowd in a joyful mood, as they prepare for the arrival of The Global Party Xxchange. The cherished youngsters burst onto the stage, gliding through a sea of roving red, yellow, and green spotlights, as their energy matches the frantic bounce of their entrance music. Scotty's Nike adorned feet slide across the stage, while his hand makes the motion of cruising with a steering wheel. Johnny's arms pump in the air, as his head matches the nods of the cheering audience. Eventually the duo come together at the center of the staging to pass along high fives, fist pounds, and motivational words for the fight to come. MELODY And team number two! First from ATL Zone 3, he's dope boy, da-da-dope boy fresh, he is JOHNNY “JAM” JACKSSSSOOOOOON! And his shawty, from the 313, Detroit rooooooock citaaaaaaay, he's slapping you haters with his business hand, SCOTTY STATIIIICCC! If you're a girl between the ages of eight and nineteen, you probably have a poster of them on your wall. They are THE GLOOOOBAAAAL PARTAAAAAY EXCHAAAAANGE! Outfitted in matching LA Clippers jerseys and red track pants, the pair waste no time in speeding to ring, sliding into the squared circle amidst a wealth of cheers. They pass high fives to each other, and make the ubiquitous belt motion, showing their desire to become three time tag team champions. COLE The Global Party Xchange. They need no introduction, both these kids are still in their early twenties, but have made an incredible impact on the oaoast since day one. They have to be one of the strong favorites to win this match. Folks, we'll return with more when we come back. COMMERCIAL BREAK When HeldDOWN returns to screens worldwide, the ring has now become an ocean of bodies, occupied by GPX, The SCM, Rescue 911, The Beverly Hills Blonds, Christian Wright and Craig Patrick Allen, The Heavenly Rockers, America's Team, Los Conquistadors, The Mardi Gras Homewrecking Crew NRG, Los Diablos De Fuego and The Love Doctors, ten of the fifteen teams in the contest. You didn't really think I was going to write all those entrances, did you? I'M ONLY HUMAN! Laaaaaaast summer we took threes across the boooard, But by faaaaaall we were a cover story, Now in stooooooreeees. Make us poster boys for your scene. But we....are not making an acceptance speech. I found the safest place to keep all our old mistakes. Every dot com's refreshing for a journal update. After several weeks of confusion, the audience has finally learned to recognize the high arcing vocals of Fall Out Boy's Thriller, and pour down their cheers and appreciation for the soon to be arriving Lonestar Gunslingers. Their support gets even louder, when the Slinger's manager, Melody Nerdly, giddily skips onto stage, her svelte figure poured into highly revealing daisy dukes and tied up red flannel shirt. As she two steps across the staging, her boys appear behind her, giving the women in the audience something to hoot and holler over, showcasing their gorgeous bodies. COLE Here come The Lonestar Gunslingers! Perhaps the fastest rising team in the OAOAST! Melody continues converting the entrance stage into the world's largest ho-down, enlisting Baron in her round of comical dosey-doeing. Jock isn't much for the dancing, and simply looks on with an amused grin as his associates dance out of sync with the pop-rock tune. I can taaaaake your problems awaaaaaaay, With a nod and a wave of my hand, 'Cause that's just the kind of boy that I aaaaaaam. The only thing I haven't done yet is die. And it's me and...my plus one at the afterlife. Crowds are won and lost and won again, But our hearts beat...for the diehaaaaaaaaards. MAGGIE And team...I don't know what number we're one, actually. They are being accompanied by the greatest sister in the world, my big sis, Melody, first he is The Texas Twistah, and one hot mistah, JOCK MULLIGAN! And his partner, he is my future husband, even if I have to drug him, brain wash him, and keep him tied up in the basement, BARON WINDEEELLLSSSS! They are god's gift to all of woman kind, all my girls give it up for THE LOOOONESTAAAAAR GUNLISNGERSSSS! Give it up they do, shrieking and yelling as though they were in the presence of Justin Timberlake and Robin Thicke. Somehow the boys are able to ignore the thousands of women screaming their names as they enter the overcrowded battlefield. Their geeky manager takes position next to Holly-wood, and discusses her latest conquest in Gears Of War for Xbox360. Holly reacts with all the interest of a three year old being presented with a dissertation on Walden. REACH OUT AND TOUCH FAITH The industrial glam stylings of Marylin Manson's Personal Jesus, and the sudden swirl of deep blue spotlights, are met with a frigid cold front from the sold out arena. The entrance doors come tearing apart, first revealing the lovely Megan Skye, outfitted in a light blue, floral print, ruffled trim dress. However, Her face doesn't match her peaceable attire, directing a harsh glare into the eye of the camera. Parading from her side, is boyfriend Landon Maddix, sporting a much rosier disposition, thanks in large part to the laminated Money In The Bank contract resting within his hands. As the green and gold attired fighter dances along to his entrance music, he thumps his fingers against the prized piece of paper, showing it off to the hateful audience. Cortez is the last to saunter out, his tapped knuckles cracking in the same fashion as his neck. A scowl appears on his face, while his eyes stare down his many foes. MONEYMAKER Cole, if the belts aren't won by the two Enterprise teams, these men are my pick for success! Landon Maddix is the only world champion within the match, and that means something. That means he can handle pressure, he can handle tough situations, and he handle this tag title battle royal. MAGGIE Being accompanied by the perfect ten, Landon's gurrrrl friend, Megan Skye, they are The Urban Legend, Mama Cortez' answer to the nuclear missile, TODD CORTEZ! And his partner....he is internationally known and locally respected, I know you heard about him, he is Mister Money In The Bank, The SWF World Champion, from Huron, South Dakota, by way of Madrid, Spain, he is LANDOOOON MADDDIXXXXX! They are MARTIAAAAAL LAAAAAWWWW! Unlike the nineteen thousand in attendance, Landon heralds his name with great happiness, sinking to his knees and tossing his arms to his side, as tears of joy stream down the contours of his face. His ridiculous show does nothing to endear him to the already disgusted fans, and he's treated to an increase in the volume of their many jeers and taunts. Cortez puts as much distance between himself and his hyper arrogant partner, rushing into the ring to join the numerous combatants. Todd does very little to earn the respect of his opponents, eying each one with a ferocious glare, making no bones about informing them they'll be leaving Los Angeles beltless. COLE Certainly Landon Maddix has great experience in battle royals, winning two SWF Clusterfucks and the Money In The Bank Battle Royal at Anglemania. However, one wonders how his partner will fare in this situation. In a scene reminiscent of 98 Chris Jericho, Landon preens and primps his way across the ring apron in an elaborate goose step. Again his outrageous performance gain him no fans with the audience, and even his fellow wrestlers call into question his unmatched arrogance. When Maddix reaches the center of the apron, his arms head towards the sky forming a one man testament to his supposed excellence. Hatred pours all around him, but judging by the mile wide smile on his face, it's apparent Maddix neither realizes nor cares he may be the least popular man in the contest. Once Los Angeles realizes the only team left to make it's entrance is it's hometown heroines, screams of anticipation that are enough to send shivers down spines millions of miles away, fill the Staples Center. Thunderous chants of “C-O-D! C-O-D!” build into a mighty roar from the fans who impatiently cry for the long awaited arrival of the treasured pair. Hey, hey, you, you I don't like your girlfriend! No way, no way! I think you need a new one Hey, hey, you, you I could be your girlfriend! Hey, hey, you, you! I know that you like me! No way, no way! No, it's not a secret Hey, hey, you, you!! I want to be your girlfriend! The bouncy sass of Avril Lavigne's hit song cause the cheers to enlarge exponentially in volume, nearly drowning out the aggressive pop vocals. A beautiful red pyro fountain erupts from the entrance stage to embrace the embers of a glamorous pink pink pyro waterfall that seeps from the ceiling. Within moments those docile pyrotechnics are shattered at the hands of a booming gold explosion that engulfs the entire stage. Through the smoky haze stands an image that sends the fans into a euphoric frenzy, that of Krista Isadora Duncan, striking a pose of alluring dominance, with one hand on her hip, and her head cocked to the side in dismissive arrogance. Her lean and chiseled fitness queen body lies behind a pink Dom Rebel t-shirt that reads “FUCK PINK”, and a slinky open sided micro skit, that reveals the crowd pleasing sight of her entire left leg. The decibel level climbs even higher, when Alix skips from the entrance doors. Bedecked in a saucy white tie-up front tube top that's cropped all the way to the chest,white booty shorts., and faux fur covered boots and wrist bands, Ally charts a path across the stage, rocking her body to and fro, matching the immense excitement of the raucous spectators. "C-O-D! C-O-D!" MONEYMAKER (screaming over the fans) Why? Why would I make this match here tonight? Shouldn't they have a hometown advantage? No! They've only lost three matches as a team, and two of those matches came right here in their home city. They choke, Michael Cole. They can't handle the pressure of being watched by friends, family, hangers on, agents, publicists, managers, personal assistants, hair stylists, makeup arists, whoever they've got here. They fail, they flunk, and I guarantee new tag team champions. I took Jade away from them, and I can take their tag titles away from them in front of their own people, without even stepping in the ring. I have that kind of power. Unlike most of time, where Krista has to corral Alix for an embrace, the bubbly brunette dips her body into Krista's waiting arms. In an airily romantic manner, Alix throws her body backwards, and a sultry kiss is tossed towards the camera, leading super imposed red lips to shoot on screen. "C-O-D! C-O-D!" MAGGIE And, finally, the team you've all been waiting for, the champions! First, she's hot, she's tall, she's blond, she's rich, she's a best selling author, she founded her own line of top selling fitness videos, she's famous, she's smart, but sorry, guys, she's a lesbian, she is Miss California, KRISTA ISADORA DUNCAN! And her partnaaah.....her cookies make Betty Crocker's taste like the dog crap scrapped off of the bottom of your shoe, she is the CEO of Miss Spezia's Sweeties, The Hollywood Bad Girl, ALIX MARIA SPEZIA! America may think they're it's sweethearts, but California, they were your's first, SO MAKE SOME NOISE FOR CHICKS OVER DICKS! The fans, every one of them on their feet, explode with that final announcement, tearing the roof off the arena. The only thing that could make them pop louder is a “and still oaoast world tag team champions...” proclamation at the end of the contest. Alix gingerly skips down the ramp, waving like a beauty queen towards the legion of adoring fans. Even Krista, normally so averse to fan interaction, musters some kindness in the comfort of her own home. When she eyes an unbelievably obese woman in a shirt that reads “KRISTA'S FUTURE WIFE”, she pushes aside her “No fat chicks” rule, and leaves red lip mark on the woman's cheek with a kiss. Satisfied that she's done her good deed for her lifetime, she dives into the squared circle, immediately staring daggers at the sizable Enterprise contingent. Ally joins her shortly thereafter, meaning every team involved in the contest is in the ring. COLE Can you believe that reaction? Almost as big as what I got when I came out here before the show. I noticed The Enterprise guys, and their entrances weren't even televised, didn't get a whole lot of noise. It was pretty quiet actually, if I remember right. MONEYMAKER You think your funny, Michael Cole.. Just remember who I am and what I can do to you. I place one call into the president of this network, and you're off the show and flipping big macs in east hell. Remember that. And remember this, the fans mean nothing. They aren't in the ring. The Enterprise is. Landon Maddix and Todd Cortez are to. Los Conquistadors, and The Mardi Gras Homewrecking Crew, they're in there also. And those two teams....they have certain orders as to who they need to eliminate.

The shot is an overhead view of the jam packed Staples Center, with corporate logos appearing on the screen as Cole reads down the sponsor list. COLE Folks, HeldDOWN is brought to you by Woolite, tough love for your carpet. And by Audition, the online dance club, get in the groove at Nexon.net. And buy Nieva good bye cellulite, touch and be touched. COACH I bet that cellulite remover is real popular with you. PRL SEGMENT? COMMERCIAL BREAK Fancy pictures! When we return we're shown an outside image of The Staples Center Or as I like to call it, the building where Luke Walton gave me a funny feeling in my tummy. Um, anyway, the announce team has important information for us. Let's listen! COLE As we will see later on tonight, HI-YAH Promotions have a big live event running in conjunction with HeldDOWN~! tonight in Yokohama, Japan. Obviously, the HI-YAH World Title will be on the line and also scheduled was to be a HI-YAH World Tag Team Championship defence by the gaijin heartthrobs D*LUX. That was, until last week, when D*LUX found themselves in an unscheduled title defence here on HeldDOWN~! against The Mardi Gras Homewrecking Crew... COLE A stunning victory, which has thrown plans up in the air across the world. The Mardi Gras Homewrecking Crew tonight look to make history in the Tag Team Battle Royal for the OAOAST Tag Team Championships, with the chance to become the first team to hold both sets of titles at the same time. Differing fortunes for the former champions though. They're still out in Japan to fulfill their commitments, still to take on two of HI-YAH's homegrown stars... but, without titles to defend. COACH And, obviously, out of the running for the OAOAST Tag Titles tonight. COLE Yes. Obviously they weren't scheduled to be here tonight anyway, but they had no to chance to re-arrange their bookings with HI-YAH and the OAOAST and trade places with the new champions. Or, rather, Jade Rodez had no time to re-arrange the contracts she'd signed. Conveniently, she was 'busy'. All week. COACH Of course she was busy! She's involved in a very high-maintence and above all very professional operation now she's with The Enterprise, you can't just expect her to be available at the drop of a hat anymore. COLE So, D*LUX were left up the creek without a paddle again and they're in Japan as we speak. But we understand they will be back here, live, next week on HeldDOWN~! I wonder what 'certain people' have in store for them when they return to these shores. Fans, our mainevent is coming up shortly. Don't go away! COMMERCIAL BREAK

"LIGHTNING CREW" Those two words are all it takes for the crowd to be whipped into a collection of catcalls, as "No Chance In Hell" hits, marking the entrance of the resident muscle of the Lightning Crew. BUFFER Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is a non-title match, scheduled for one fall. Coming down the aisle at this time, from Havana, Cuba, and weighing in at two hundred, eighty five pounds, he is the current reigning and defending OAOAST 24/7 Champion...from the Lightning Crew, this is CUUUUUUUUUBAN WAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLL! The big man isn't afraid to tell a few fans where to go, even threatning to whip a boy of maybe 10 with the 24/7 belt! The startled youngster hides behind his father, who is just as intimidated, as the big badass makes his way to the ring, sneering at anyone who dare look him in the eye. COLE This is a scary, scary man. Wall circles the ring, throwing a few phantom punches and cracking his neck, as "Getting Away With Murder" replaces his theme song, and brings the crowd to their feet! BUFFER His opponent, hailing from Providence, Rhode Island. He weighs in tonight at two hundred and five pounds...he is the Franchise of the OAOAST, the Modern Day Warrior, ZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK MALLLLLLLLLLLIBUUUUUUUUUUUUUU! Through the pyro shower steps Zack Malibu, his usual focused self. Zack walks the aisle slowly, approaching the ring to lock up for the very first time with Tha Puerto Rican's hired henchman. COLE This all came about when Tha Puerto Rican got in Zack Malibu's face backstage last week, and now apparently Cuban Wall wants to make an issue out of it. COACH As big of a badass as he is, he's got to know that he's in there with "the man", right now. Not to mention Zacky boy ain't been a fountain of happiness lately. COLE Indeed, the war with Drek Stone is taking its toll on Zack Malibu, and we'll see if any of that serves as a distraction here tonight. Malibu hops up on the apron and slingshots over the ropes into the ring...but just as his feet hit the mat he's taken out with a hard running lariat from Cuban Wall, who wants to get started before the bell rings! Wall then pulls Malibu up, sneering to the crowd before lifting the former World Champion up over his head, pressing him high before throwing him OVER THE ROPES AND DOWN TO THE FLOOR~! COACH YO~! COLE The 24/7 Champion is impatient tonight! Zack Malibu hasn't even removed his entrance gear, and he's already been laid out on the ringside floor! Wall moves through the ropes, hopping down to the floor, as referee Charles Robinson tries his best to get him to stay in the ring. Wall rolls his eyes, as if to say that Robinson's crazy if he thinks Wall is gonna listen. The big Cuban pulls Malibu up off the floor, holding him by one arm...and pulls him into a short arm clothesline! He lifts Malibu up again, and this time he whips him across ringside, sending a dazed Malibu crashing into the cold steel of the guardrail! COACH I bet Drek Stone is LOVING this. Wall charges at his opponent, but Malibu kicks up, planting both of his feet in Wall's chest! Cuban Wall staggers back, as Malibu runs, springs off the ring steps, and nails him with a diving clothesline to the crowd's delight! COLE He's not loving that, that's for sure! Malibu tears off his hooded vest and throws it down before picking Wall up. He nails the big man with a European uppercut, then connects with a hard chop as well before taking him by the head and rolling him into the ring. Once Malibu hops up on the apron, Robinson frantically calls for the bell, looking to make things official...and just after the bell sounds, Zack springboards into the ring, nailing Cuban Wall with a missle dropkick! The Wall goes down, and Malibu eggs him on to get back up, spitting in the face of danger! As Wall gets up, Malibu rocks him with hard slaps to both sides of his face, then takes him and whips him into the corner before following up with a running clothesline! He takes Wall by the head and runs him out of the corner, looking for a bulldog, but Wall pushes him away! Malibu stops short, then turns around and fires off SCHOOL'S OUT...but Cuban Wall catches Zack's foot and spins him around, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him into a two hand choke before drilling him into the canvas! COLE He just threw Malibu down like he was nothing! Wall puts the boots to Malibu, then hits the ropes, coming off with his patented big splash on the fallen Malibu...BUT ZACK ROLLS OUT OF THE WAY! Wall winds up driving himself into the canvas, coming up short, as Malibu rolls to his feet! Zack immediately sits on Wall's back as he pushes up, nailing him with several hard crossfaces before rushing towards the ropes and coming off with a basement dropkick, right into his face! Wall rolls away, then gets up near the ropes, and Malibu follows suit. He takes Wall by the arm and sends him in, but Wall reverses the whip and sends Zack to the ropes, drilling him with a big boot on the rebound! An elbowdrop onto the fallen prep follows, and so does the first cover of the contest! ONE! T-KICKOUT! COACH Near fall for the Wall! Wall drags Zack to his feet, and starts pummeling him with soupbone shots all over his upper body before setting him into a standing headscissors, lifting him up for a powerbomb...but Malibu slips out of his grasp and lands on his feet before him! Malibu starts firing off left handed jabs, staggering Cuban Wall more and more with every shot before spinning around and cracking him with a discus clothesline! Malibu then ducks out to the apron, looking over his shoulder to the crowd and nodding to his supporters before leaping onto the top, springboarding off with an elbowdrop down onto Cuban Wall! The impact of the move rattles Wall, as he rolls away from Zack, standing up near the ropes...only to get dumped over the ropes courtesy of a clothesline from Malibu! Wall lands on his feet and shakes off the blow, and pulls Zack out to the floor by his ankles, then rams his back into the hard edge of the apron! Wall walks away from Malibu, still a bit in a fog, while Malibu reels from his brief attack. COLE Wall bought himself some time here by smashing Zack's back into the ring apron, now we have to see if he can maintain control over Malibu. Wall walks back towards Malibu, holding him by the head as he beats on him with hard forearm shots, then takes him by the waistband and hurls him into the ringsteps, knocking them over! Wall stalks Zack as he struggles to get up, and lifts him off the ground, slamming him on the bottom part of the steel stairs! Malibu howls in pain as Wall picks him up again, but this time Charles Robinson is on his case to take it back into the ring or risk a count-out. Perturbed but yet compliant, Wall tosses Zack back into the ring, then re-enters himself, keeping an eye on his foe. Zack comes up, but gets pulled into a knee, then gets sent into the ropes. Zack bounces back, headed right towards the Wall, who elevates Malibu high into the air before gravity takes its toll and sends Malibu falling down hard to the canvas, face first! Wall hits the ropes and delivers a legdrop to the back of Malibu's head, and rolls him over, covering him once again! ONE! TWO! KICKOUT! COLE Malibu gets a shoulder up just in time, but the big man is certainly earning his stripes tonight, putting up a hell of a fight against the OAOAST Original. COACH Zack knows what it's like to deal with a big man after that war with Blank, but Wall is holdin' it down for the LC! Wall picks Zack up, and scoops him up onto his shoulder. Getting a running start, he rushes towards the corner, but just as he's about to hit snake eyes on Zack, Malibu slips off his shoulder behind his back, and shoves him into the corner! Wall htis and stumbles back, right into a release German Suplex by Zack Malibu! COLE Zack takes the big man over! With the crowd behind him, Zack comes up to his feet and rests in the corner, watching and waiting as Cuban Wall suffers from the suplex. As he gets up, Zack runs out of the corner and cracks him with a running kneelift, which sends Wall up to a (dazed) vertical base, leaving him open for a spinning wheel kick off the ropes! Zack covers, and Robinson is right there for it! ONE! TWO! NO! Wall pushes Malibu up off of him, but when he sits up, Zack strikes with a kick across the back, then pulls him to his feet and stuns him with a European uppercut! Wall gets sent to the corner next, but when Malibu runs in, Wall nails him with a back elbow, sending him back pedaling! Malibu looks up just in time to see Wall coming at him with a clothesline, but Zack ducks it and reaches back, dropping the big man with a snap neckbreaker! Wall kicks his legs as he agonizes, holding his head in pain, while Zack again waits for him to get up. As Wall gets up, Zack rushes up behind him, hitting a German Suplex, but this time not letting go! He rolls to his feet, and again, takes Wall over with a German suplex! Another roll-through, but this time Wall elbows out of it! He grabs Zack and pounds on him with forearms again, then takes him up for a vertical suplex...but Zack falls behind him and quickly hits the ANGLE SLAM~! The crowd roars as Wall gets dropped to the canvas, and Zack crawls on top of him for the cover! ONE! TWO! THR-WAIT! WAIT! VITAMIN X PULLS MALIBU OUT OF THE RING! COACH YO! COLE What the...Vitamin X, just saving Wall from what was likely a Malibu victory! The beatdown takes place at ringside, with X working over Malibu while Wall recovers. He throws Malibu back into the ring, and when Wall gets up, it's a 2 on 1 on the popular superstar! COACH They're beatin' him down, Mikey Cole! COLE The Lightning Crew, looking to send a message here tonight, and...waitaminute! The crowd roars as JAMIE O'HARA rushes out from the back to make the save! The young Hooligan quickly leaps onto the top rope and springboards into the ring, making a hell of an entrance as he hits a springboard crossbody that takes both Wall and X down! The crowd roars as O'Hara goes to aid Malibu in getting to his feet...but as he does, he's nailed from behind by The Bone Thug! COLE What, is the WHOLE crew coming out tonight!? Bone Thug takes J-OH down, but Malibu starts firing off right hands to fight back...until he's blasted from behind by Wall! Once again, the numbers work in favor of the LC...until the Metrosexual Monster starts charging down the aisle! COACH BO! Bohemoth slides into the ring, catching a charging Bone Thug and drilling him with a spinebuster slam! Wall comes forward and the two start trading blows, as Bohemoth has evened the odds...for all of about 30 seconds, as HE gets nailed from behind with a chairshot from THA PUERTO RICAN! COLE Dammit! The Lightning Crew momentarily celebrate, until the boss tells them to keep working on Malibu, O'Hara, and Bo. The 4 on 3 continues, with Wall pounding on O'Hara, X and Thug trapping Malibu in a corner, and the X Division Champion choking Bohemoth with the edge of the chair! The Crew has the situation going well in their favor, until... ...THE LIGHTS GO OUT~!~!~! COACH Hold me, Mikey! COLE GET OUT OF MY LAP! The fans buzz, fully knowing that a blackout in wrestling leads to something worth talking about the next day. In this case, the streak continues, as when they come back on, CABOOSE is in the ring, cricket bat in hand! COACH 'BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSE! The fans roar as Vitamin X charges, but gets caught with a bat shot to the gut! Cuban Wall comes and gets the bat jabbed in his ribs, then slammed across his back! Bone Thug takes a shot but it's ducked, and Caboose wraps the bat around his throat, then snaps him down with a quick Russian legsweep! COLE CABOOSE IS TAKING OUT THE LIGHTNING CREW! The last one standing is the leader, and Caboose goes right for him, but Tha Puerto Rican holds the chair up like a shield, blocking the bat shot! He then throws the chair down and bails out of the ring, gathering his wounded troops in the aisleway as Caboose and friends stand tall in the ring! COLE A one on one match between Zack Malibu and Cuban Wall turned into a frenzy here tonight, and The Lightning Crew has been sent packing! The X-Division Champion and his loyal followers issue threats from the aisleway, but are in no rush to hit the ring and make good on them. Malibu and Caboose shake hands and hug, their friendship one of the longest lasting in the company, as Bohemoth and O'Hara stand on the ropes, begging for the LC to come back. Malibu and Caboose stand side by side with them, and now that the odds are even, what could happen next between these eight men!? The (TV) screen goes black, and the following appears on the screen. The following announcement was paid for by World Domination Wrestling. Soft music accompanied by wind instruments plays, and a spotlight slowly raises over an all black wrestling ring with red ring ropes. (voiceover) In the beginning, the land was pure. Even in the early morning light, you could see the beauty in the forms of nature. Head shot of Alfdogg looking off into the distance. Soon men and women of every color... Shot of an Asian man doing martial arts poses in the shadows. And shape... Shot of an overweight tattooed man wearing colorful clothing. Would be here too. And they would find it all too easy sometimes not to see the colors... Shot of Chris Stevens smashing said tattooed man from behind with a mirror. ...and to ignore the beauty in each other. Shot of Alf delivering a beltshot to CWM. But they would never lose sight of the dream. Head shot of Stevens looking off into the distance. The bitter world that they could unite... Head shot of Axel staring off into the distance. And build together...in Triumph. As the last line is spoken, a camera shot from the ground is shown with a red tint, with Rick Heyross, Alfdogg, and Axel standing left to right and looking down into the camera smiling. The screen then fades into another announcement. World Domination Wrestling presents: WDW Triumph Coming Saturday, June 2 Can You Feel It? After the hype video concludes we rejoin HeldDOWN~! in the bustling metropolis that is Los Angeles, with the cameras taking us into the bustling metropolis that is the backstage area. Standing by is someone who has nothing to do with metropolises (metropoli?), bringing that runner to an abrupt end, one of the legion of OAOAST interview staff Tony Schiavone, alongside two more of the Battle Royal competitors. SCHIAVONE Landon Maddix, Todd Cortez, after varying levels of success at AngleMania you return to action tonight in the big Tag Team Championship Battle Royal. Victory tonight would mean you become the first team to win both the OAOAST and SWF World Tag Team Championships, a potentially history making night. MADDIX It's funny how things sometimes work themselves out in life. You know, a few months ago me and Todd here were gunning for the tag team titles. HI-YAH, OAOAST, whatever. We were after tag team gold. We came to an agreement to let bygones be bygones and leave the past in the past. Let sleeping dogs lie, don't cry over spilt milk, two heads are better than one... we followed virtually every cliché going right to the letter. Until, that is, ONE of us ballsed up our plans. Todd's eyes narrow a little, which apparantly goes unnoticed by Landon or Megan. MADDIX But, as it turned out, everything worked out just fine. Instead of me and Todd going to AngleMania and challenging for those Japanese titles, Todd found himself in a high-profile AngleMania match and yours truly went on to capture this... Reaching off screen, Landon picks a piece of paper up off the floor. Not just any piece of paper though, a contract. MADDIX Don't worry, it's laminated. SCHIAVONE Oh. MADDIX Yeah. Apparantly they ran out of briefcases, what with all these guaranteed title shots flying around. But briefcase or no briefcase, at AngleMania, I earned myself this Money In The Bank contract, a contract that guarantees me a shot at the OAOAST World Heavyweight Championship at any point I so choose within the next twelve months. Infact, you can just go ahead and call me 'Dinero Del Señor En El Banco'. Silence. SCHIAVONE Uhm, say what? CORTEZ It means Mister Money I... MADDIX MR. Money In The Bank! Never a more fitting name than when associated with yours truly, Landon Maddix. You see, I've got this contract. (looks down at his waist) I've got this, the SWF World Heavyweight Championship. I've got a lucrative endorsement deal with the good people at Pepsi. Megan not so subtely holds a can of Pepsi Max up over Schiavone's shoulder. This blatant advertisement doesn't seem to impress Todd though. MADDIX Nothing like a can of Pepsi Max to prepare you for battle. And now, tonight, it's right back to where we were. Landon Maddix and Todd Cortez going right back after those OAOAST World Tag Team Championships, one more time. We've cleared the air after what happened at Syndicated and we've made it pretty clear that nobody is above this team. One of us has been warned over his future conduct... of course, in the interests of fairness, I won't say which one of us, but I'm sure you can all figure it out for yourselves. In the background, Todd's eyes narrow again. MADDIX But the point is, Martial Law has been RE-declared on the OAOAST! Landon Maddix and Todd Cortez are back in synch and back in pursuit of the gold. In a Battle Royal no less! It's so perfect, it almost reads like a Hollywood script! I think my track record in Battle Royals speaks for itself. And I've been training my buddy Todd here on the finer points of the art of the Battle Royal for the past week to make sure he can hold up his end, so there is no weak link on this team. You're looking at the new, history making OAOAST Tag Team Champions... Landon holds his contract up again. MADDIX ...the perfect thing to tide me over, until it's time to cash this baby in. And, by the way, Drek... Zack... I've got my ticket stamped for Houston and I will be there at School's Out. Watching. Waiting. COMMERCIAL BREAK

We cut to "Mean" Gene Okerlund at our backstage interview location. Next to him, already dressed to compete, the Beverly Hills Blonds and their manager, Enterprise CFO Mackenzie DeCenzo. OKERLUND Still to come, the over-the-top rope battle royal for the One & Only Anglesault Thread World tag team championship. But it's another championship my guests at this time wish to discuss, that being the 6-man title held by the awesome trio of Brock Ausstin and America's Team. SIMON Cowards! OKERLUND You see, one week ago on this very program Theodore Moneymaker all but guaranteed his Enterprise would capture the 6-man tag titles tonight. However-- BLANCHARD Let's cut straight to the chase, son. Brock Ausstin and America's Team are afraid to step in the ring with the Enterprise, just as we've always said they were. The only reason those belts are still around their waist is because they took advantage of CPA's inexperience the last time we met. He's not a trained wrestler; he's an ass-kicker. Ausstin and the A-team shook in their boots for a week knowing CW was going to be our third man. So when the opportunity presented itself to postpone the match, or a 'clerical error' as the company is saying, you bet your bottom dollar they jumped at the chance to do so. Like they couldn't pull double duty? I have a funny feeling that if the roles were reversed the OAOAST would have us compete twice in one night. Then again, I wouldn't blame them. Any excuse to put the hottest tag team in sports entertainment on the tube = ratings. OKERLUND Anytime you can give the fans more bang for their buck, I'm all for it. Despite your attitudes, there's no denying you're two of the best wrestlers in the sport today. BLANCHARD What? OKERLUND I said they're two of the best wrestlers in the sport today. SINGLETON You're lucky we don't sure you for defamation of character. Get with the times, gramps. Wrestlers are rednecks with two front teeth. The Beverly Hills Blonds are cool and tanned sports entertainers. We're the guys everyone wishes they can be, but aren't. Take the teams involved in tonight's battle royal. I mean, the Heavenly Rockers? We beat them so bad in the past we nearly ran them out of town. What about the Lone Star Gunslingers? Now there are some real rednecks. And who can forget America's Team? They may have chickened out of our 6-man tag match, but they won't be able to escape us in the battle royal. OKERLUND Mackenzie? MACKENZIE They say diamonds are a girl's best friend. But honey, I'm no girl... I'm all woman, and this woman desires championship gold. BLANCHARD And you're gonna get some tonight, sweetheart. The Beverly Hills Blonds were the first 3-time OAOAST World tag team champions, and we'll be the first 4-time titleholders too. You can deposit that in the bank. A familiar voice is heard from the shadows, though the person isn't seen. MAN (Off-screen) It might not be solid gold, but it's a championship. OKERLUND Hold on just a minute. Outfitted in a red Hawaiian shirt and stroking his trademark 70's porno mustache, Rico walks on set with Lucius at his side and newly won HI-YAH tag team titles draped across their shoulders. The duo pause to observe Mackenzie. An attention whore, Mackie plays to the men, which nearly sends Soul into cardiac arrest. SINGLETON "Sweet" Lucius Soul and Rico de Janerio, the Mardi Gras Homewrecking Crew! I gotta ask how it feels to have championship... silver around your waists, or shoulders in this case? SOUL (licking chops) About as 'ol Mackie here looks Double S... mighty fine. RICO Speaking of fine, babe alert at 8:37. Heads and camera turn to find HOLLY-WOOD grabbing some munchies for the absent Heavenly Rockers, cup in hand. BLANCHARD Oh, hell no! Sloppy seconds and the wrath of Logan Mann? You don't want any of that. Been there and done that. SOUL Yo, I ain't hatin', but we don't need no advice on the ladies there brah. Excuse us, ladies and gents. I gots'a funky feelin' the Homewrecking Crew has found its latest woman to liberate and lubricate. SINGLETON Let's get the hell outta here. I got a bad feeling about this. The Blonds dodge out of town while Rico and Soul scroll over to Holly. RICO Hey, doll face... (strokes porn 'stache) ... you must be exhausted because you've been running through my mind all night. HOLLY Excuse me? RICO Allow me to introduce myself... and perhaps later expose myself. The name's Rico de Janerio. Pleased to make your acquaintance. (extends hand) HOLLY And I'll be pleased the second you leave. RICO Ooh, feisty AND a sense of humor. My kinda lad-aay. Anyway, how 'bout... HOLLY Uh, HELLO! Ring on finger. Holly-Wood points to the sparkling wedding ring on her hand, causing Soul to wipe a smirk from his face. SOUL Hey that's cool, baby. All adds to the excitement. HOLLY Who the hell are you? SOUL Sweetness himself, sugar. "Sweet" Lucius Soul to be exact. HOLLY Nice nickname. Is that supposed to impress me? SOUL You know, Rico, I'm startin' to get a little tired of this 'forbidden fruit' act. What the deal, sweet thing? I know it ain't no race thing because you the property of Logan... HOLLY I'm no one's property. Logan's my husband. And if you don't leave me alone, you'll have to answer to him. Once I'm through kicking your asses, that is. RICO Come on, baby. Doesn't everyone want a little fun in their lives? Your old man seems to think so, otherwise he wouldn't have planted one of that foxy Nerdly chicá at AngleMania! Seems to ol' Rico here, he's getting bored playing Ozzie and Harriet. The comment strikes a nerve with Holly, pausing in deep thought, clutching the cup in her hand... SOUL (whispering to Rico) Awwww yeah. I'm ready to wreck that chick. ...before TOSSING IT IN RICO'S FACE!! RICO With the brown colored beverage trickling down his face, Rico takes a step forward... but is cut off by the LONE STAR GUNSLINGERS!? SOUL What d'you fools want? JOCK For you two fellahs to leave this dame alone and head on back to where it is you came from. Lucius glances at the camera and then back at Jock, who along with Baron escort Holly back to her dressing room. SOUL Oh, no you didn't. OH, NO you didn't! I got yo punk ass on video uttering a racist remark. I ain't havin' that! Nah, it jus ain't goin' DOWN like that foo'! I'm'a have Al Sharpton and the Reverend Jesse Jackson on yo ass! Gene-O, quit standing around. You here saw that. Collaborate my story. OKERLUND There was nothing racist about his remark at all! He simply asked you and Rico to leave Holly alone! SOUL Man, I shouldn't have expected you to help a brother out. (looks at Rico) Somebody get a burn unit out here! Can't a brother get some EMTs up in this place!? My man could be scarred! The women wouldn't like that... yo, Rico, you ain't screaming or nothin', bro. Don't it burn? RICO It should, shouldn't it? Rico runs his tongue across his now brown porn 'stache. RICO Chocolate milk. SOUL Say what? RICO Chocolate milk. She threw chocolate milk in my face. SOUL DAYYUM!, the girl even prefers her milk brown! I'm down with that! RICO Let's get out of here. I gotta change my shirt. But it damn sure ain't the last of this. While Rico ponders his wardrobe decisions, you and I will go to a commercial break. COMMERCIAL BREAK The first image after our last commercial is a waist up shot of Maggie Nerdly, standing next to a super imposed graphic of the oaoast logo. MAGGIE Didn't get enough of your favorite oaoast superstars tonight? No prob, dudes. Surf on over to oaoast.com and checkout OAOAST Afterparty. This week we hit the Los Angeles nightlife with Alix, go surfing down under with my brothers Marvin and Melvin, and Zack Malibu talks about the joys and trials of fatherhood. All this on OAOAST afterparty, hosted by your's truly, the hostess with the mostess, Melody Nerdly. I mean, Maggie. Shoot, I forgot which one I was. Maybe I'm not even Maggie, maybe I'm really Monica. Uh, just watch the Afterparty, I'll be there, whoever I am. Maggie's advert fades from view, replaced by the sight of...... the Lightning Crew locker room, now being vacated by The Cuban Wall! COLE And coming up next on HeldDOWN~!, Cuban Wall to take o... *CRACK!* COLE ...what the hell!? Suddenly the moody 'Coming Up Next' music screeches to a halt as a steel chair slams across Cuban Wall's left shoulder, at the hands of JAMIE O'HARA!! The 24/7 Champion, caught completely off-guard by the sneak attack, collapses back into the wall behind him as O'Hara retrieves the chair that flew out of his hands from the force of it rebounding off of Wall's body! COACH What the hell is this!? Wall's got a match! COLE Damn right he's got a match, he's got his first title defence, right here and right now! Cuban Wall learning what it's like to be the 24/7 Champion! O'Hara stalks over Cuban Wall as he angrily shakes off the unexpected chairshot and pulls himself away from the wall. The LA wall. Wall, the human one (man, too many walls! And now I just broke the fourth wall! AAAHHH!) , turns around in search of where the attack is coming from... *CRACK!* ...and FINDS IT, in the form of another chairshot, right over the head! Wall goes down from the second shot and quickly O'Hara dives on top of the 24/7 Champion, as referee Charles Robinson scrambles into view... "ONE!" "TWO!" Kickout by Wall! Regaining control of the chair again, O'Hara again waits on Wall to get back up... O'HARA C'MON GEEZ', GEDDUP YA OVERSIZED BASTARD! ...before swinging down with the chair... *CLANG!* ...and getting it PUNCHED clean out of his hands by the 24/7 Champion! O'Hara is understandably surprised by that and doesn't react in time to block the knee to the gut that follows, as Wall climbs back to his feet. Shaking his head clear of cobwebs, Wall then grabs O'Hara behind the head... AND PITCHES HIM FACE-FIRST INTO THE WALL!! Unfortunately for The Birmingham Bad Boy, The Staples Center doesn't consist of those flimsy walls you can get thrown clean through. They're hard. And they hurt. O'Hara slides down the wall with his flesh screeching down the paintwork, ending up slumped against the wall and seeings stars. Growling under his breath, Cuban Wall now grabs the chair... *CLANG!* ...and simply TOSSES the chair at O'Hara's head, the steel impliment bouncing off of O'Hara skull and coming to a rest at his side. Having finally gained his bearings in this unexpected 24/7 Title match, Wall finally afford himself a sneer as he looks down at the Brit. WALL Nice try kid. And with that Wall strolls off, leaving the dazed Birmingham Bad Boy slumped against the wall. COLE ...uhm, Cuban Wall on the way to the ring! Hopefully, this time. COACH And he's still the 24/7 Champion! A fine title defence! COLE Well, we'll see if he can handle Zack Malibu, and that match is next!

From The Staples Center, and if you can't guess who plays in The Staples Center then I don't know what to tell you, duke. For the one of you that maybe actually uses the PM system, I'll be posting the shows from here on out, so, you know how to do do your thing. Uh, although I'd hate to do this, I must advise against calling the mainevent for the show. You could go ahead and do it anyway I suppose, but it would just be a huge waste of typing energies. The mainvent will be a 15 team Battle Royal for the oaoast world tag team titles. Featuring: 1.GPX 2.Love Doctors 3. Rescue 911 4.Chicks Over Dicks 5.The South Central Militia 6.NRG 7.CPA & Christian Wright 8.Heavenly Rockers 9.Gunslingers 10.Los Conquistadors 11.Beverly Hills Blonds 12.Maddix and Cortez 13.Los Diablos De Fuego 14.The Mardi Gras Home Wrecking Crew 15.America's Team

My match probably won't be in until much later on tonight

From the Rose Garden Arena in Portland,OR home of the Portland Trail Blazers! I'd have a tag title defense but I think I have exhausted all the heel teams!!

Aye ay. Or however you spell that term. "Yes, okay" is what I'm trying to stutter out.

Rad, dude. Okay, Brains & Brawn (Vitamin X and the 24/7 champion Cuban Wall) Vs Chicks Over Dicks for the oaoast world tag team titles.

For the oaoast's birthday I present it NRG Vs The SCM, I'm like the guy who gives giftcards to Staples or Autozone for Christmas. We're transported to a lavishly decorated dressing room, resplendent with gorgeous furniture, elaborately arranged bouquets of flowers, and intricately styled paintings. The flooring, however, stands out in morose contrast to the lovely surroundings, as it's been littered with a terrible bounty of half eaten brownies, cookie crumbs, mushed snack cakes, and an innumerable amount of empty wrappers that once contained various fattening foods. One's first guess might be to assume Jivin JR has gone overboard in his celebration of the oaoast's birthday. But when the camera swivels around it spots the despondent figure of Krista Isadora Duncan, in the unusually drab attire of black sweat pants and white t-shirt, lying on a leather couch, her normally beautiful face, beaten by an incredible sadness. Within seconds, her partner, Ally bursts through the door. Wearing a skinny green and white striped A&F polo shirt, and heavily destroyed cropped jeans, Alix has her good mood erased when she eyes the landfill of garbage that's taken over her dressing room. ALIX Woah! Oh my god, Krissy. Are...you...kidding me? Ally carefully steps through the minfield of snack treats, trying her best to mask her disgust and shock at Krista's uncharacteristic binging. Krista doesn't even bother to acknowledge Alix's arrival, her eyes preoccupied with an infinite sadness. ALIX Eww, Krissy this is ri-donk-ulous! Like, seriously, this is the grossest thing ever. Tell me this is, like, some sort of performance art piece that I'll never in a twenty gazillion years be smart enough to understand, but will love you forever for anyway. Change that to hate you forever, as Alix notices that among all the cookie wrappers not a one says Miss Spezia's Sweeties. ALIX Snackwells cookies? Oh my god, Krista, if you're gonna go for the Carny Wilson pre-gastric bypass surgery look, can you least give Miss Spezia's Sweeties a little business? Why are you eating all this junk anyway? KRISTA Because when I called the hospital to send over some sort of IV to just pump the lard and sugar into my viens they hung up on me. The normally spaced out Alix has a grounding realization as to the source of Krista's mental malaise. ALIX Ooooooh, I get it, you're crazy upset about the whole Jade, Enterprise thingie, huh? KRISTA Upset? Me? No, perish that thought! Perish it! I am in no way shape or form, or formed shape, or shaped form upset. Gah! I can't believe you would even suggest that, Al! I am “rip out Theodore Moneymaker's intestines with a rusted screwdriver and use them to skip rope and floss my dogs teeth with” pissed off right now. But upset? Heavens no, my sweet, heavens no. ALIX Awwww, poor baby! With a heavy sigh, Ally lifts Krista's head off the couch, and situates it onto her lap as she sits down to console the soul sick woman. ALIX Just because you wanna use Theo's intestines as a lasso, doesn't mean you gotta act like Indiana Jones and raid the lost temple of Frito Lay. Krissy, you're supposed to be the queen of fitness. Don't you have an example to set for the millions of people around the world who model their lives after you, and who's millions of dollars keep us in that nice ten million dollar home, and keep us driving that brand new BMW, that I just told you I bought right at this exact moment. Oopsie! Anyway, you can't just start inhaling eighty billion ice cream cakes. That'd be like the king of soul, James Brown selling out and doing a show for redneck WCW. That'd never happen! Oh wait. Bad example. While Alix laments her failure to chastise Krista, the fitness queen sprays what's left of a bottle of cheese whiz into her mouth. ALIX Okay, I got something that's really gonna get your spirts off...er, up, well, both actually. Alix leans in close to Krista and whispers into her ear. Whatever Alix said, the words have the magic touch and begin to pry away the veil of sadness clogging Krista's mind. KRISTA Really? You'll do that? Well, I mean, I guess it wouldn't kill me to take a little time out from my fast moving relationship with this debilitating depression. ALIX (seductivly) I've even got a costume. Suddenly Krista perks up with excitement, forgetting for the moment her emotional distress. KRISTA Janet from Three's Company? ALIX Even better! Horshack! KRISTA The Sweathog? ALIX My favorite one! He sure gave that Principal Woodman all he can handle Ooo! Ooo ooo! Mistah Kottah! Mistah Kottah! Waaaaait a second, that's it! That's what I'll name my strip club! Arnold's Horshack! Isn't amazing how these just come to me? Uh, what we're we just doing? Oh, yeah wallowing in self pity. Um...you smell nice. What are you wearing? KRISTA Valentino Rock N Rose. ALIX Oh, oh, oh, very butch. Smelling is a really, really, powerful thing. Did ya know that? Yessir, the queen of all the senses. Sight is just the bouncing of light, hearing is only filtering sound waves, touch is way crude and hella overrated. But smell is little teeny weeny molecules, a lil part of someone floating through the air and entering you, whether you want it or not. And if ya don't like it, POOF, vamoose, no more, rejected just like that. But if you do like this other person, entering you, becoming part of your senses, then the nose tells the heart-the mind, the body-what it wants. And then taste, the tongue, explores, finding out what's edible, or maybe what's most delectable about this soul that's invaded your air. KRISTA Do you know what I smell? I smell a cesspool of two bit scumsucking shitheels. I smell a sewer of insignificant dried out little turds who might as well have killed Jade, one of our best friends in front of our very eyes. And now the corpse of the girl we once knew is rotting away in the revolting bowels of The Enterprise. And unless you can do something to bring her back, and I don't think you can, there's nothing that can be done to make me feel any better. ALIX Okie dokie artichokie. Strike two, Alix. How about ya go for the big strikeout, you're doing famously terrible so far. I know what would really cheer you up, Krissy! Why don't I bust out the Ipod and we can rock out to [i]Dark Side of the Moon[/i]? KRISTA (more depressed then before) Yeah, right. Pink Floyd sucks. ALIX [img=http://e.deviantart.com/emoticons/j/jawdrop.gif] KRISTA You heard me. White trash trucker music. ALIX (trying to soothe her burning rage) Okay, just because you're a little bit angry right now doesn't mean you have to be blasphemous. Suddenly there's a knock on the door, and thank the lord for that because otherwise we were about to see the break up of Chicks Over Dicks over an overrated, intellectually pompous rock band. Ally, being the only one with the willpower to get up, goes to answer the door. She isn't at all surprised to find that the source of the knocking comes from D*LUX. Without their manager, Jade, the two boys look like lost puppies caught in a rainstorm. Their eyes are filled with sadness, and their faces sag with a permanent frown of deep depression. ALIX Hiya, boys. Uh, hella bad news. I'm sorry, but Krissy's feeling kinda not so hot about the whole you know who doing you know what, so I think we're just gonna have to cancel my erotic pottery class tonight. Okie dokie? Tyler, don't look like that! I know you laid out the blueprints for the cervix and everything, but mother's day is months away, there's plenty of time to make her the world's creepiest gift. TYLER That does kind of stink. But we're really here to talk to you know who about you know who doing you you know what, so we know who can stop doing we don't know what when we don't know why? ALIX Ooooookay, do you see the pink liquidy stuff running out my nose right now? That's my brains that you just melted. So while I take my shirt and wipe up my Temporal lobe, why don't you bitchin' dudes tell me what's up? Trying to speed this doorway conversation along, Shayne buts in front of Tyler to get to the point. SHAYNE We [i]have[/i] to talk to Krista about Jade and The Enterprise, Ally. ALIX Yeah, I don't really think you wanna, ya know, mention that for the next, oh I don't know, half century. Unless you're totally stoked on possibly having your testicles crammed into your esophagus. And some guys are, I don't really judge. It's how my dad put me through college. TYLER Please, Alix. We just need some help, we're so lost right now. It's been such a hard week. We know you understand. Tears begin to form in the corners of Tyler's eyes, which truly touches Alix's heart, because when a man cries it's beautiful thing. Truly. Honestly. Patty ain't bullshiting here. Let's cry together and forever. ALIX Well, Krista always says I don't turn anything down but the covers, so go-go Gadget Go. It's your funeral. Or, to be more accurate it's your rapidly decaying bodies through the use of flesh mleting acids, that I'll be throwing over a bridge after she chokes you to death with Chunky Monkey ice cream. Granted permission by Krissy's caretaker for the night, Shayne and Tyler dart into the room, kneeling before Krista's dejected spirit as though she were a holy deity able to make everything right. SHAYNE Miss Krista, Miss Krista, thank god we found you! KRISTA You say that like I was hard to find. You could've looked in a muddy ditch, a bar, the dumpster behind the bar, detox, a Weezer concert, or any other place where the the emotionally shattered, or the mentally forlorn go to wait for the chilling arrow of death to pierce the cancerous blackness that was once their heart. Or Dairy Queen, I like Dairy Queen. TYLER Miss Krista, we really need your help, Leon isn't here, he's MIA. And you're the only one with any brains around here. What can we do about Jade? We need some ideas because this situation is tearing our heats apart. When you..you...invest all your trust, and your love, and your hopes into someone, and you make them family, and they just turn around and without warning or any signs, jam a knife straight into your gut, that kills you. Not suddenly, not even quickly, but there is a strong hint of death as you trudge through life without the person who pretty much left you to die. SHAYNE He's right. This has been pure murder, like the slowest death sentence ever enacted. Every morning I wake up, and I think that we're going to meet Jade at the gym, or at the arena, that this isn't real, that this is only a terribly impossible dream. And it takes me long minutes to understand that this is our new reality. And I hate it! I can't stand it anymore. I've cried myself to sleep every night since Jade left. ALIX (hugging Shayne and Tyler) Awwwww that's so adorable. You dudes are so the sweetest things ever! KRISTA Yes, how deliciously charming. The lesbians and the teenage lady boys who cry beside them. We're ready for our own Lifetime special. Or our own little section reserved in hell. Same thing. I'm sure Regan and McCarthy will welcome us with open arms and bouquets of roses and kisses. Not having any idea who McCarthy is (damn public schools), Tyler continues to prod Krista for help. TYLER What are we going to do Miss Krista? KRISTA That all depends on whether or not physician assisted suicide is legal in this country. Taken by a sudden surge of male bravado, Shayne shoots his body off the floor and through trembling voice announces a rather brave idea. SHAYNE I say we meet The Enterprise in the ring, take them on four on five and get Jade back by force! They hurt us emotionally? Then let's hurt them physically! KRISTA If you're looking to kill yourself there are much better ways to do so then suicide by getting power bombed into an announce table by a three hundred pound ex convict named CPA. Trust me I've attempted many of them. Your problem is, you still think of The Enterprise like it's an actual stable, a collection of people that can be pinned, submitted or somehow defeated. You fail to realize that The Enterprise is no more then a stable then Ebola, The Avian Flu or SARS is a stable. The Enterprise is a virus. It's a virus that knows itself. And try as you precious little scamps might, you can't kill a virus that knows itself. All you can do is cry and then smile, because you'll learn to respect this incurable virus, because you'll learn to identify with it. Determined lowlife. Just like the rest of us. TYLER Then what we can do? KRISTA Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Because Jade, mind, body and soul is now a registered trademark of the most evil, twisted, viscous bastard to ever snort coke in the Lincoln Bedroom, Theodore Moneymaker. My advice to you would be to forget the name Jade Rodez ever entered your mind. Leave the company, and fight every urge in your heart to look back with your last dying breath. You're talented kids, I'm sure you can land a new gig somewhere else. What do other people in your family do? What about your brother, Tyler? TYLER Uh....he's gay. KRISTA That's his job? That's what he does for a living? I've been at this for years, and I haven't seen a dime! I've seen everything else, fortunately and unfortunately, I gotta call someone, where's my gay4pay? Alright, Shayne, you weren't always in in a profession that predestined you die of a steroid induced heart attack before the age of forty, what did you do for a living before you got here? SHAYNE Computer school. KRISTA I asked you what you did for a living and you said [i]computer school[/i]? So jobs requiring the usage of the braincells you may or may not have are obviously a no-go, which I guess, explains your current employment as professional wrestler. We'll find something. In the meantime, and I say this because I like you more then most men, which means if given the choice of drinking the unflushed toilet water in a New York City Subway or having to talk to you, I'd still choose the bowl of Man chowder, but I'd feel very guilty about it. Please try and forget about Jade. It's the best thing you can possibly do for yourselves. I'm sorry. And just know that when you do inevitably not follow these words wisdom, because no one ever listens to me, and you're ground into the tiniest Justin Timberlake impersonators in the country by the heel of Mackenzie's shoe, I'll will be there to put you back together so you can try and fail again. Now if you'll excuse me I have to prepare to be treated to the incredibly awesome match between the Militia and NRG. And I by incredibly awesome I mean mind-bendigly awful, and by treated to I meant tortured with, and by NRG, I mean....I guess I mean NRG. Happy birthday oaoast: Hope ya like [b]shit[/b]! Shayne and Tyler sigh inwardly and bury their heads into the couch, more confused and lost then ever before. Ally tries to pressure Krista to say something motivational or inspirational, but she seems much to busy trying to peel away the wrapper on her block of cookie dough. After departing the COD dressing room, the view is returned to sold out GM Place. Standing within the center of the squared circle is newcomer to the oaoast Maggie Nerdly, in a black skirt and a black Led Zepplin t-shirt. Within her hands is microphone and it appears she'll be playing the role of Michael Buffer for this tag team contest. MAGGIE NERDLY What's up, Vancouver, BC?! “YEAAAAAAA!” MAGGIE OAOAST fifth anniversary! You excited to be here? “YEAAAAAAA!” MAGGIE Then let's get going with a tag team match! COLE That's really a very nice young lady. So positive and energetic. COACH And so very, very fine. God damn, she can get it. Dimepiece to say the least. These fans wouldn't know like I do, most they've ever been with was a rusty penny with a hole in it. And don't be saying nothing about age, Cole, if she's old enough to crawl, she in the right position. The house lights morph into a spooky darkness, as the arena is given light only by a humming green buzz shining around the entrance stage. The electronic prelude of Gavin Rossdale's ode to testosterone [i]Adrenaline[/i] is heard loud and clear over the state of the art system. Those in the crowd that recognize the music bring a celebration of applause to the arena air. The black entrance doors marked by the OAOAST logo strewn across the front rip apart, and give birth to a small assortment of cheers from the audience members who are quited delighted to see [b]NRG[/b]. Biff Atlas, sporting a crown made entirely of leaves, and a barely there hula skirt to cover up his ripped lower body , enters first, waving his fist towards the supportive crowd. Flex Phillips trails behind him, wearing bold aqua tights with the letters NRG etched across the back. The duo join hands and foist their arms into the air as a series of ten foot high [color=#43C6DB][b]blue[/b][/color] pyro missiles explode around them. COLE Some say that the members of NRG have million dollar bodies but ten cent brains. There's no arguing their physiques are to die for, but washboard abs, and gorgeous pecs can only take you as far as my back seat. In the oaoast you need skill, grit and determination. I happen to know NRG has all three of those things but it hasn't translated into many wins. Maybe they'll be able to score a victory as we celebrate our fifth anniversary. MAGGIE This first team is made up of Venice Beach's Biff “Shampoooooo” Atlas and the most pumped up dude to ever come out of Fort Lauderdale, Florida, Flex Phillips! Vancouver, give it up for Nutritions Real Gurus....N-R-G! No sooner then Maggie completes her announcement does Adrenaline cut away and all attention is focused upon the arrival of NRG's fearsome opponents. The metallic opening of [i]Cross That Line[/i] by Rick Ross fills the arena with an urban scented dread. As the audience murmurs with anticipation, the formerly bright lights delve into a troubling blue hue. [i][color="#FF0000"]Convict....Convict....Convict[/i] [i]Up front Yeah....[/color] [color="#FF0000"][size="6"]Convict Music[/size][/color][/i] While the haunting piano melody heightens the tension in the venue, scenes of The South Central Militia's special brand of havoc blaze across the Angletron, showing the alarmed fans what type of savage aggression the men who are soon to arrive are capable of. [I]Oooooh ooooh oooooh If you ever cross that line I guarantee ya there'll be nothin' to save ya (save ya, save ya) I got a whole bunch of gorillas ready to pull the trigga And we all for that paper (paper) Comin' from a life of crime Tryna be on my best behavior You see my rep's gettin' bigger but still that same nigga bustin' shots at them haters (them haters, them haters) But only if you cross that line[/i] The colossal bass of Rick Ross' street anthem booms through the venue, heralding the arrival of the tag team title challengers. The entrance doors split apart, and jeers rise into the air as The South Central Militia steps through a cloud of smoke to take position on the entrance ramp. Wearing a pair of flared Red Monkey Jeans, decorated by a Chinese feudal map, and a black LRG throwback track jacket, Vincent Santana throws his arms out to his side, and unleashes a feral howl into the night sky. Blue and white lights glimmer beautifully across his sleek body as he releases his enormous rage upon the world. His partner, wearing Artful Dodger Jeans with a blue gothic pattern on the side, and a t-shirt boasting a giant symbol of a grenade, stands in solemn menace, intimidating any unlucky enough to meet his gaze. MAGGIE And now walking down the aisle with a mean gangster lean, they are the team that's gonna try and kick NRG's butts! From South Central Los Angeles, they are two men who'd just as soon shoot you as look at you, Vincent “Whitaaaaay” Santana, Marcellus “One-Eye” Wallace, THE SOUTH CENTRAL MILLITIAAAAAAAA! The spectators welcome the end of the introduction with more disdain for these sickening goons. Quite dissimilar to many teams, who usually don't pay attention to such disrespect from the audience, the natives of South Central dish out verbal trashing to each attendee they encounter until they reach the squared circle. They dive into the ring, and ascend to opposite turnbuckle where their fists pump into the air in defiant triumph. The camera rotates around their rebellious ritual, as the chilling [color="#0000FF"][b]blue[/b][/color] lights continue to dance along the ringside area. COLE Former tag team champions, The South Central Militia were, believe it or not, still in prison the day of the oaoast's first show. I'm not even sure if they were allowed to watch the oaoast in their maximum security facility. But things have improved slightly for them since those fateful years, as they've picked up a short title reign, and have hung with some of the toughest teams in the world. But if they hope to remain in title contention a victory over NRG is a must. [b][color="#696969"]DING DING DING[/color][/b] The affair begins with Biff extending a hand in respect towards One Eye. Wallace, as usual, is not in a sporting mood, and responds with a clubbing forearm to Atlas' back. The strike fails to floor Biff, which proves to be to his disadvantage, because Wallace is given the chance to whip him into the cables. Upon his return, the hula skirted brawler is shot into the air with a back body drop. But he avoids disaster by extending his legs forward and dropkicking Marcellus to the canvas. In celebration of his minor victory, Atlas does a bit of comedic hula dancing. While the audience seems to enjoy his clumsy dance moves, a long haired demon by the name of Vinny Santana is less then entertained. Shooting through the gates of hell, Vincent drives a pitchfork in the form of a lariat into the back of his rival. Watching his partner go down in flames draws Flex Phillips into the affair, but his path is halted by Charles Robinson. With the official distracted, the crew from the mean streets of LA double team poor Biff with savage stomps and elbows. And by the time the referee is made aware of the cheating, only Vinny remains in the ring. “SOUTH CENTRAL! IF YA HEAR ME GET YA MOTHER FUCKIN' HANDS UP!” Whitey bellows through cupped hands. This being far removed from south central, very few hands get up. What does get up is a number of boos from the sellout audience. Ignoring the jeers, Whitey brings Biff to his feet. What he can't ignore is the army of punches Biff is lobbing into his scrawny chest. Thus he's forced to resort to a headbutt. The move draws a bit of a blood, but from not Atlas, rather it's from Vinny. Smiling sheepishly, Biff points to the source of Vinny's cut, the thorns that outline his leaf covered crown. “Oh, you dead now.” Vincent mutters, clenched teeth almost turning into fangs. He surges forward with a lariat, but has it ducked by the oddball grappler. He turns around to throw the same move, but is instead dropped with a Lou Thez press! Punches begin to come rapid fire upon his goateed face, as the crowd delights in his mistreatment. “KILL WHITEY! KILL WHITEY! KILL WHITEY!” they scream. Those chants seem to be all the motivation Vincent needs, and with a beet red face he shoves his assailant off his skinny body. “KILL WHITEY?” He wonders. “AIN'T NO ONE KILLING THIS NO LIMIT THUG” He proclaims, beating his hands into his chest. Biff is unintimadted by these boastful words and makes a charge towards his rival. Unfortunately he's taken into the sky with a flap jack. Though he lands with a thud on the canvas, he can at least take comfort in knowing that he was able to tag in Flex before his landing. Phillips hits the ring and serves a knuckle sandwich to Vinny. Unhappy with that meal, Vince returns the favor with an elbow strike and soon a full on slugfest erupts in NRG's corner. But it's Flex getting the upperhand with a knee strike to Vinny's midsection. With the thug doubled over, Flex quickly moves to the second rope then flies off with shoulder tackle. A pin shortly follows. ONE TWO Vincent kicks out and immediately rises to his feet. Flex meets him with a pair of knife edge chops but his moment of offense is brutally cut-short by a surprise [b]Whiteout[/b] (X-Factor). A crazed procession of stomps to Flex's head follows, each accompanied by lewd trash talk from the thirty three year old Californian. Once he's done with his stomps, Vincent scrapes Flex off the canvas and leads him to his corner where he applies the tag to his partner in crime, One-Eye Wallace. Unfortunately for the SCM, their planned double team dies before it's even born, as Flex bashes both of their heads together! This garners quite the reaction from the fans who chant “MILITIA SUCKS! MILITIA SUCKS!” COLE If they had any brains to begin with that might've scrambled them. One Eye is able to recover quicker then his associate, and as such succeeds in knocking Flex over the top rope with a lariat. Despite not being very agile, Phillips lands on his aqua colored wrestling boots. But he's quickly taken off those boots by a devastating running baseball slide from Vincent Santana. Snarling with primal satisfaction, Vinny eyes down a wounded Flex ready to throw him into the jaws of the steel barricade. But a charging Biff Atlas rescues his partner by using the ring steps as a launching pad to slam a BUTT bump into his unaware rival! “MILITIA SUCK! MILITIA SUCK!” the fans repeat, while the baby face stands above the fallen Vincent, spanking the tightly toned booty that's scarcely able to be covered by the skimpy hula skirt. COACH Why does he have to wear that stupid thing? COLE If Krista or Maggie or Staci or Lindsay were wearing it you wouldn't mind. COACH You say that like it's a bad thing. Flex rolls back into the squared circle but isn't able to capitalize on the unorthodox high flying of his partner; Marcellus locks him into a rear chinlock. The hold is tight, and One-Eye makes no bones about his intent to rip Phillips' thick neck clear off his body. Despite repeated warnings from the official, Wallace continues to push the bounds of legality, moving his chinlock into a chokehold. Somehow Flex is able to move to his feet, and while there he begins shooting a parade of elbows into One Eye's ribs. The seventh strike turns into a charm and grants Phillips his freedom, and he puts it to excellent use by bowling over One Eye with the [b]Flex Express[/b], which is best described as a Running Benoit Attack. I don't actually [i]know[/i] what that is, but it does allow Phillips to attempt a pin on his rival. ONE TWO But Marcellus' shoulder is off the canvas! “TRY AGAIN! TRY AGAIN!” sing the fans who obviously can't stand The Militia. Flex would listen to their advice, however there's the tricky problem of One Eye not only being on his feet, but charging towards him with a running knee strike! Thankfully for the few NRG fans in attendance, Flex avoids the deathly attack, but he fails to maneuver past the Silver Bullet (Samoan Spike)! Phillips cries out in agony, as Marcellus' commensurates his move with a less then graceful bird dance. While One Eye is making a total ass of himself, Flex heads upright. Marcellus eyes his ascent and moves to meet him with an axe handle smash. But Flex clamps into a front facelock before the blow can land. He takes Wallace off his feet with a vertical suplex and plants him into the canvas, much to the pleasure of the sold out crowd. While One-Eye tries to cope with the intense pain in his back, his foe makes his way to his corner to bring Shampoo into the match. The Hair fetishist waits patiently for the groggy One Eye to stagger upright, and when he finally does, Atlas unleashes a springboard shoulder block upon him! But One Eye counters the high flying assault by cranking his arm around Biff's head and pummeling him into the canvas with a ddt! Biff's pain is enormous but it's only added to by the mounted punches his enemy slams into his forehead. COLE One-Eye looks like he's trying to bust him wide open! And he might have succeeded, had Flex Phillips not interjected himself into the fracas with a stomp to his rival's back. One-Eye is able to keep his temper in check long enough to forget about Flex's bothersome antics and maintain his focus on Biff. He thrusts the lovable goof into a front face lock, then uses his strength to drag him into the skies for a suplex. Instead of timbering downwards, the brute holds Atlas upside down in the air, showcasing his incredible power. After several seconds and a number of begruding Ooos and Ahhs from the crowd, One Eye falls backwards and spikes his opponent into the mat. Wallace then floats over onto the battered bones of Biff Atlas for a quick cover. ONE TWO But Atlas gets his shoulder off the mat, pleasing the fans in the process. One Eye leads Atlas to his feet, where he takes hold of his wrist to Irish whip Shampoo across the ring. Atlas reverses the momentum, however, and it's One Eye who's flung into the far turnbuckles instead... but the savage thug merely springs to the top turn buckle, then shoots back at his rival to lacerate him with a diving clothesline! COACH These dudes is looking sharp as they work their way back towards a title shot! Leaving Atlas to nurse his busted bones, One-Eye journeys to his corner and and returns Vincent to the affair with a tag. Whitey tucks his adversary into a tightly held reverse headlock. He then then sinks to one knee, using the other as knife to jab into Shampoo's neck. Still holding onto his battered rival, Vincent stands up, and this time falls to both knees to pulverize Biff with an inverted ddt. He drapes his arm across Biff's heaving chest for a pivotal pinfall. ONE TWO But Biff kicks out, earning applause from Flex and a few fans in the first three rows. “KILL WHITEY! KILL WHITEY!” the audience screams with vigorous passion. As he makes his way atop the highest turnbuckle, Vincent treats the vexatious crowd to a slew of profanity laced insults, not mincing any words as he let's them no what he thinks of their chants. His words only cause their insults and threats to grow louder, and internally he has to admit defeat, knowing he'll never be able to silence the glut of naysayers in his midst. Now standing on the top turnbuckle, he moves to take out his anger on Shampoo, launching himself off the top rope with a leg drop! But the high risk move has absolutely zero reward, for Biff rolls his body out of Vinny's path! “YEAAAAAA!” Whitey tries to clamber back upright, but the massive pain clogging his joints is too much to bear and slows him down considerably. Eventually he does make it to his feet but is promptly assaulted with a spinning back fist from the resurgent bodybuilder. The powerful strike staggers the Californian into the ropes , which bounce him right back into an exploder suplex courtesy of Biff “Shampoo” Atlas! COLE Did you see that suplex from Biff Atlas? What power! And so the great work of tagging in Flex begins in earnest for Biff. Unfortunately for him, Vinny isn't as nearly as crippled by the exploder as one would think, and just seconds after the move's completion has already begun stirring. Thus Biff is forced to worm across the canvas with grand speed, pushing away the pain in his neck and limbs. He finally reaches Phillips and a hot tag is made! Flex leaps over the ropes, a six foot three ball of HGH ingesting fire, and utilizes his brute strength to run through the incoming Vincent with a lariat! His furious gaze then sets it's sight onto Marcellus, who's tentaivly entering the squared circle. But before a clothesline can skewer One Eye's already less then pleasing facial features, the ex-convict makes a desperate plea for mercy. He points towards his coffee colored skin, then motions towards Flex's similarly colored complexion, and with sorrow filled eyes asks Flex to “please stop the black on black violence”. COACH Powerful message right there from One Eye. Tell it like it is, man. Gotta unite! In a move that's sure to infuriate Jesse Jackson, Flex ignores the call for racial unity and hoists Wallace into the sky in a gorilla press slam set up. As he screams in savage pleasure, and his vein filled body trembles with adrenaline, the audience marvels at his impressive show of strength. But they don't get the chance to see his move to completion, thanks to Vincent Santana rearranging the bodybuilder's face with a superkick! The powerful blow forces One Eye out of his tormentor's grasp, and into a lateral press. The second the pairing hits the mat, Robinson moves into position to count the resulting fall. ONE TWO But Biff Atlas overjoys the anti-SCM fanbase by breaking up the count with a running elbow drop. However, he's given no chance to bask in their cheers, as he must deal with Vincent Santana, rampaging towards him with a spear! Atlas leapfrogs Whitey, and the stringy haired thug is expelled through the ring ropes, much to the crowds' enormous glee. Somehow he's able to shift his legs in midair to land on his BAPE shoes and avoid a fatal collision. But this simply leaves him as a sitting duck for Biff Atlas' diving lariat to the outside! Whitey is able to move out of the way at the last possible moment, but Biff, owing to a criminally underrated agility, manages to plant himself firmly on his bare feet. When Vincent turns around to witness the pleasing sight of the hula skirted brawler splattered onto the mats, his vision is engulfed by an open handed palm strike from the crown prince of hair care! Santana recoils, several yellowed teeth dislodged by the ferocity of Atlas' strike. A spinning back elbow piles additional misery into his wounds, and would've knocked him clear off his feet were it not for the fact that he held onto the announce table for support. Detecting blood in the water, Biff attempts to devour his pray by surging forward to crush him with the [b][color="#2F4F4F"]Biff Upper Lip[/color][/b](running knee strike). But Vincent calls upon a surge of energy to collar him with a leg lariat! Biff is left stunned and dazed by the move, the momentum he had all but evaporated. COLE Biff got his clock cleaned by that kick! Letting loose a liberal stream of profanity, Vincent drags Biff to his feet, where he violently slams the man's head into the steel ring steps. A loud thud travels throughout the arena as Biff's flesh is torn by the jagged metal. Through the searing pain, Atlas makes an attempt to head upright, but it's an effort that's easily squashed by a clubbing forearm from Whitey Ford. Vinny isn't done with his decimating of Atlas, however, and snatches the bell away from the time keeper, giving rise to anticipating murmurs from the more bloodthirsty audience members. Taken with youthful curiosity, Maggie leaves her seat to get an up close inspection of the grizzly fate that's about to befall Shampoo. COACH Maggie, what are you doing, it's dangerous near those animals! Come over to Coach's lap where it's nice and safe. Atlas evades certain doom for a brief moment when he stabs his elbow into Whitey's midsection. The nutrition expert then rises to his full five feet eight inches in order to mount a counter attack against weapon wielding foe. Punches blaze across a dazed Vinny's face, as the capacity crowd roots the goofball from SoCal on. But after the sixth strike, Vincent becomes numb to the procession of attacks and finally obliterates Biff's skull with the brass ring bell! COLE No! That's uncalled for! “OOOOOOOH!” scream the crowd, stunned by the viciousness of Vinny's attack. The Venice Beach native plummets to the canvas, trailed by a geyser of his blood. The warm red goo splatters everywhere, landing atop the sadistic Santana, on the floor, the edge of the ring apron and even onto the suddenly surprised Maggie. Despite the gory assault that just occurred in front of her onyx eyes, Maggie holds a small smile on her face as her hands wipe away the blood from her black outfit. Looking down on the crimson liquid that runs through her hands brings a sharper smile into focus on the lovely young lady, but once she realizes that the camera is on her, her look turns to that of grave concern for the fallen Atlas. COLE I think Maggie is just excited to be witnessing all this great oaoast action! Meanwhile back in the ring (yes there's still a match going on!), Flex has his hands latched onto One-Eye's neck for his signature choke breaker. But the always underhanded, Wallace escapes the hold by simply driving his steel toed boot into the middle of Phillips' testicles. Neither the referee, nor the howling Flex approve of his questionable tactic, but One-Eye ignores their grousing as he gives Flex a taste of his own medicine, by setting him up for the chokebreaker. The situation grows even worse for Phillips when One-Eye's partner rejoins him in the ring and attaches his own hands onto Flex's neck. In spite of a round of spirited thrashing from the bodybuilder, the SCM succeed in picking him up and destroying him with [b][color="#8B0000"]The Bodybag[/color][/b] (Double chokeslam)! COACH Oh snap! With Flex reduced into a puddle of quivering flesh, One Eye places a boot onto his chest to mark an arrogant cover. While Silverman counts the cocky fall, Vincent parades around the ring, flashing gang signs to the heated Canadians. ONE TWO [b]THREE[/b]!! The fans voice their displeasure for the outcome with groans and boos, but their disgust matters not to The SCM who celebrate their win by mugging for the camera and throwing up more gang signs for their gangstas back home and in the cell block. MAGGIE Lemmme hear ya for the winners, The South Central Milishaaaaaaaa! COLE The Militia picking up an important win on HeldDOWN!. A loss to NRG would've been a major set back as they look to return to the tag title scene in the oaoast. By winning they've proven that they can easily handle the lower echelon of teams... COACH It don't get much lower then NRG. Them fools is hot...hot garbage! COLE Perhaps, but Biff Atlas is in dire need of medical attention and when we return we hope to have an update of his condition. [b]COMMERCIAL BREAK[/b] When the fifth anniversary of the oaoast returns, viewers are shown a site sorely lacking in a celebratory atmosphere; one of a medical room within the arena, looking as though it's been ransacked by a tornado, as medical staff is strewn about the floor a beaten and broken mess, and Biff Atlas lies slumped against the wall, the blood incurred from Vincent's attack now dribbling down his chiseled body. On his bruised and sore neck rest two deep gashes from which more of the crimson juice seeps out. And on that pleasant note we return it to sofa central. COLE What happened back there? Was that the work of the Militia? No, I doubt it, there's no monetary benefit in randomly attacking NRG after you've already beat them. It's not like them to act without the possibility of some kind of financial reward. COACH Who cares? After five years is this how far the oaoast has sunk? To wondering who may have or may not have jumped some asshole in a hula skirt? A hula skirt! Jesus tap dancing Christ!

hahaha the tour schedule ended at AM. Let's just say the show is taking place at the General Motors Place in Vancouver, BC, home of the Vancouver Canucks. Unless someone has another preference, I don't really care.

NRG Vs The SCM. Exactly what you'd want for your birthday

There needs to be a Russian. I thought of having a Russian tag team, it's easy because they speak russian which is not english, which=no promos which=easy writing which=good. Now will I ever write the Russian? No. No I will not. But there needs to be one or maybe two.

I personally wouldn't mind if it got pushed back to Saturday or something.

Half assed way out of order feedback! I used to consider AM 4 the best of the AM's, but I think this one topped it. Very nice writing overall. It had a “big show” feel which we might have been lacking last year. I must give the usual credits to Papacita for his fine graphical work. Tony did a great job with the layout and presentation. Crisp, clean and smart. Fine promo work from Alf. And good stuff from Tony with Stuart Scott and The Rockers, and Ally and her outfit wrecking the Enterprise crazed training program. It's a good thing Ned wasn't around for that one, he would've melted into a puddle EWC put in some work at AM. I thought the x title match was the best of his three solid matches. The ending kept DDD looking strong and leaves the possibility of a rematch open. A very good night for the Lightening Crew, they'll have a lot to brag about on HD. I sure didn't expect the 24/7 title to change hands in the middle of a battle royal. But that's what makes it such an unpredictable title! I wonder if any jealousies will erupt between those LC members without a title and those with one. Speaking of the MITB, poor Abdullah, all the talk of eliminating Bo, and being the guaranteed winner of the match gone to waste with an elimination before the thing even started. Such is the life of a Nerdly male. Tony had told me the Anderson Cup would be the last time we ever saw Black T, but it's probably better they went out at AM instead. Anyway, I like reading battle royals much more then I like watching them, and this one was no exception. Nice work. Alf/TK was a good fast paced bout. Even after Alf turned on Pantera earlier it never occurred in my little mind that he'd come back and cost Alf the match. I just thought Alf was writing off the character. I figured Riggs would beat Wolfenstien, and he made quick work out of him at that. Now it's time for JR to move onto bigger and better things and possibily title contention, so sayeth Patty the prince of the e-fed. Rockers vs Sooner Bruisers: A semi-happy ending to one of the longest rivalries on the oaoast. The hated Bruisers went down, but unfortunately they took Holly-wood with them. Great to have Melody and The Gunslingers get involved. I LOL at the ending kiss, that's probably the first time Melody has kissed a man who's not wearing prosthetic Vulcan ears. And even The Enterprise's hired goons, Los Conquestiadors got an Anglemania payday! Good show here. Cortez vs. Rodez: Whitesnake, man. Did not think I would hear, read, whatever, that song outside of a Kansas City karaoke bar. The bout worked very well in the context of Leon's character, he never went crazy and tried to injure Cortez the way that The Urban Legend did to him, he just focused on getting payback through victory in a strong comeback match. Unfortunately his night was ruined when his little sis ran off with The Enterprise. But sometimes life just sucks, dude. Would love to hear Jade's explanation for her surprising actions. Stone Vs Malibu was well worth the year long wait, and had a very shocking ending. I think that's the first time the world title didn't change hands at Anglemania. It'll be interesting to see where the feud goes from here, and if they'll get into any “high risk” match types. I wouldn't mind seeing those two in a survive or surrender match.

I have edited the tag title match into it's designated spot on the show in GCF. I have indeed.

"Man, was this the shortest edition of HeldDOWN~! ever?" There was once a show so short the only matches were reposts of ones that took place a year before. Then there was the show that had exactly zero matches! Then there was the show which had no real mainevent, so I ended it by having the entire arena be swallowed into a dimensional vortex. Technically, we're still there. So ends your short journey through the disgraced history of HeldDOWN.

From The Fort William Gardens in Northern Ontario's second largest city, Thunder Bay. The venue is a 4,690-capacity (3,371-seat) multi-purpose arena. It was built in 1952 and is home to the Lakehead University Thunderwolves ice hockey team. That's the biggest arena in Thunder Bay. Anyway, a match: Megan Skye Vs >>>>>>. wait I mean Megan Skye Vs ??????????

GET IT? SKYE TH LIMIMT? A pumping bass vibrates throughout the arena, while dark blue spotlights bounce in a frenzied fashion across the metallic entrance stage. As the chart busting, club thumping hit [i]Voodoo Child[/i] by the Rouge Traders rises to it's full zenith, red and yellow lights clash for presence with the deep blue incumbent. Through the parting entrance doors, steps the beautiful but cruel, Megan Skye. Outfitted in tight blue leather pants, and a midriff exposing half black half blue leather tank top, “The Perfect 10” glowers at the invasive camera, before rudely pushing it away and strutting towards the ring with arrogance in her step. BUFFER The following match is scheduled for one fall with a televised time limit of ten minutes! Now making her way to the ring from Pawtucket, Rhode Island....MEAAAGAAAAN SKYEEEEEE! The announcement of her name is not warmly received by the Canadian audience, but Megan celebrates it by preening and primping in the fashion of her absentee boyfriend, Mister Landon Maddix. COACH Not to insult Landon, or anything, but it often times seems that Megan is the brains behind his success. It's somewhat questionable about how far he'd be able to make it without her around. But tonight we get to see her on her own in singles competition. Pawtucket's most famous resident enters the squared circle to once again be treated to a round of boos, taunts, and lewd sexual come ons, and if you've seen some of the women Thunder Bay can produce you'd probably come on to a god damn moose. Skye goes through a series of stretches she no doubt learned at her night Kickboxing classes at a Pawtucket community college, as she prepares for her unknown foe. An eerily spoken refrain from a strained female voice oozes through the speakers... [i]Monster How should I feel? Creatures lie here Looking through the window[/i] COACH Who the hell is this? It better not be no fat bitch! I'm warning ya'll! As the attendees express similar questions and reservations over the possibility of a fat bitch, a Gothic influenced pop beat joins the frightened, yet sweetened female vocals of Meg & Dia's [i]Monster[/i]. [color="#00FF00"][b]Green[/b][/color] and [color="#FFFF00"][b]gold[/b][/color] lights flicker at the sides of the Angletron as the powerfully tortured chorus beams it's regrets to the world. Tall pillars of smoke steam from the tip of the entrance ramp. Through the chaotic multi colored haze emerges a figure that assuages all fears of a fat chick. A young girl stands amidst the swirling fumes, her dark red lips curled into an infectiously joyful smile. Though no taller then 5'2, she cuts a striking presence, in a short black skirt, a two sizes too small black Muse t-shirt, and a boquet of white flowers clenched in her left hand. Her perfectly shaped oval face, and pouty grey eyes sunken underneath black mascara, are partially obscured by a flowing white wedding veil. BUFFER And the opponent..from Edmonton, Alberta, Canada...[b][color="#FF0000"]MAGGGGIEEEE NEERRRRRDLLLLY[/color][/b]! The crowd reacts with some measure of shock, certainly not expecting to be graced with an appearance by a member of Canada's most prestigious wrestling family. With her blond hair, tinged with red highlights, trailing behind her, the delighted darling zips down the ramp, slapping hands, and exchanging smiles with her fellow Canadians. She slides into the oaoast ring for the first time in her career an uncontrollable ball of nerves and spirited energy. While the hardened Megan watches with bitter contempt, Maggie stands in the center of the squared circle and points her bouquet towards each individual turnbuckle. As her floral arrangement is directed to each corner, a tower of [color="#00FF00"][b]green[/b][/color] pyro explodes from it's top turnbuckle. With the impressive pyrotechnic display complete, the still smiling Maggie tosses her bouquet behind her back and into the audience. COLE Well, this is Maggie Nerdly, the eighteen year old sister of Abdullah, Melody, Marvin and Melvin. I must say that it's a gre.... COACH Wait, shut up, how old did you say? COLE She graduated high school very early at just seventeen, and only turned eighteen a [i]few days ago[/i]. COACH (nearly jumping out of his chair in joy) Got dayum, that skeet can get the biddy! COLE I wonder what it would be like to have ten sister in laws and eight brother in laws, Coach. COACH What are you talking about? I'm just tryin' to kick it wit' a bitch, I ain't tryin' to marry one. Once Maggie removes her various bridal inspired accouterments and dishes them to a ring side attendant, the referee calls for the bell... DING DING DING! The affair begins with a standard collar and elbow tie up, and the two competitors immediately begin jockeying for position. Their battle is brief, however, and ends when Mags amazingly shoves Megan halfway across the squared circle. Megan isn't intimidated by Maggie's impressive show of power and after scraping herself off, meets Maggie for a second lockup. The preppy babyface once again wins the encounter as she sweeps Megan off her feet with sneaky leg trip. The long haired blond mounts her SWF foe, and begins pumping fist after fist into her lovely face. Not wishing to be turned into a human punching back, Megan pushes the preppy baby face off her body, then gives her taste of her own bitter medicine by mounting her and attacking her with closed fists. But Megan's advantage last for all of two seconds before Maggie turns the tide, and resumes her own mounted punching. Megan has had enough of this exchange, and uses a gap in between their bodies to escape beneath the ropes in order to catch her breath. At this point a rotund male audience member, rudely accuses Megan of having a “rat face.” She replies by informing him that's he's a fat ass, which reduces him to tears, because up until that point he had never realized he was fat. Now his whole body of work has been rendered meaningless by this starling realization. COLE Megan is as every bit as disgusting a human being as Landon! COACH Fool shoulda lost some weight before he showing up looking like Lord Rexington Fear. Only Melody will that get reference. The Western Canadian diva follows her enemy outside, which instantly puts Skye's black boots on the move. She frantically returns to the ring to avoid the vexatious eighteen year old. Ever the determined one, Maggie begins to chase after her cowardly foe. Yet as she slides into the ring, Megan attempts to flatten her with an elbow drop. Fortunately for Papa Nerdly's baby girl, she's able to pull her body away from the downward trajectory of the strike. This is quite a terrible happening for Landon Maddix's better half, as her elbow violently crunches into the canvas. Clutching her hurt arm, she rises upright, but gets no rest for her weary bones as a returning Maggie meets her with a series of wild elbow strikes. After weakening her with the attacks, she whips Megan into the ropes. Skye goes onto the offensive by diving towards Maggie's side, and pulling the Nerdly babe down with a roll up pin! Elderly referee Clem Buzzlefoxer counts the first fall of the contest... ONE TWO Maggie shoots her shoulder off the mat, earning a polite round of applause from the audience. She stands up, readying herself to take the fight to her hated rival. But Megan keeps her on the defensive when she pushes her down to the ground with a surprise spear! Thinking that basic move is enough to put the young lass away, Skye hooks the leg for a pinfall. ONE TWO But, Maggie kicks out once more, and gains another series of polite applause. Megan, however, feels that this latest escape is just beginners luck and tires for another pinfall. ONE COLE This could be it right here! TWO And again Maggie Nerdly escapes the jaws of defeat. Megan finally takes the hint, and realizes that her younger foe isn't quite ready to take the loss. Thus she stands her up and peppers her with a series of jabs. The fast moving blows back the Edmonton native into a nearby corner, and allow Skye to punish her midsection with a series of savage shoulder strikes. The blows leave Maggie whimpering and wailing, and as Megan hooks her into a front facelock then moves her into a vertical suplex, it looks like the youngest diva on the roster may be over her head in the oaoast. But Mags proves she belongs in the oaoast, when she slips out of Skye's loosely applied clutches, and lands behind the intensely disliked woman. She then school boys a stunned Megan, who hadn't even registered the fact that Maggie was no longer in her grip. Buzzlefoxer makes the count. ONE TWO Megan pulls out of the pinfall, and hops to her feet, ready to strike down the annoying newcomer once and for all. But it's Megan who gets struck down, as Maggie upends her with a lariat! Megan gets back on her feet relatively quickly, but is knocked right back down by the same clothesline. She figures that fighting the plucky youngster head on isn't going to get her very far, and thus tries a different course action. The Rhode Islander sinks to her knees and innocently begs for a reprieve from the Nerdly daughter's “incredible might.” Despite warnings from a few audience members, Maggie doesn't wish to take advantage of an injured foe, and decides that Megan deserves the chance to recover from her wounds before continuing. And of course right as she decides that, her devious enemy recovers, and begins pelting her in the stomach with right hooks. “BOOOOOO!” COACH Maggie's hot has hades, but dumb as rocks, just the way I like my girls. COLE I don't think being sporting and kind equates to a poor intellect. And shes' almost twenty years younger then you, Coach! She just turned eighteen two weeks ago! COACH I gots ta get my “legal but morally questionable sex” on. You know how it is, playa. After weakening Maggie with sufficient body blows, Megan goes for a game winning home run swing, a lunging lariat. But Skye strikes out, as the teen starlet sweeps bellow the attacking arm. Maggie bounces off the ropes and returns to Landon's manager with a lariat of her own. However her strike is intercepted with a boot to the gut from Megan. The attack doubles the innocent doll over, and lets Megan easily trap her into a standing head scissors. But keeping Maggie in that position proves to be another matter entirely. One that The Perfect 10 fails miserably at. The charming teenybopper pulls away from Meg's clutches, then attaches her into a hammerlock. Before Skye can even properly mount a defense, Maggie is twirling her into a front face lock and nailing her with the [B]Happiness is Edmonton in your rearview mirror[/b] (Hammerlock DDT). Megan's body flops over onto it's back, drained of all life by the Canadian's deadly finishing hold. With Megan throughly defeated, Maggie makes the cover, smiling broadly as she does so. ONE TWO THREE! BUFFER The winner, in her oaoast debut, MAGGIE NERDLY! A small round of applause fills the arena, as [i]Monster[/i] plays over the sound system. A deliriously excited Maggie springs to her feet and makes the famous RAWK~! Hand signal, before she gets out of the ring to high five the fans in celebration of her first ever victory. COLE Quite the debut from the Nerdly family's newest contribution to the oaoast! We're both very happy to have her on our roster. COACH Both? You mean, all [i]three[/i] of us. Shit, in one of those Al-Qaeda ass Ali Babba countries you only gotta wait till a chick's nine to smash that ass. They hittin' 'em right out of Pampers and Huggies. With this girl, I'd be nailing a god damn senior citizen by their standards. This'd be like necrophilia over there in dothead land. COLE [i]Dothead land[/i]? COACH skeet skeet skeet all over that yearbook picture. COLE Hey, who are those young ladies Maggie's talking to over there? Friends of hers? COACH We lookin' at a fourgy! Let me see these hos. [IMG=http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y39/Portfree/uhoh.gif] COACH Aww shit! Naw, you got it all wrong, son. I'm a good Christian. I was just trying to find out who the girls was as persons so I could help 'em, maybe be like a big brother mentor and show them the right way. Teach 'em about Christ, our lord, our savior, our guiding light. Nothing bad was gonna happen. I'm a minister, please ignore this bottle of lube... While Coach pleads his innocence we go to.... [B]COMMERCIAL BREAK[/B] When HD returns, we're taken backstage where Abdullah Abir Nerdly, in an Edmonton Oilers hockey jersey, is trolling the premises for a sounding board for his many qualms and issues with the oaoast. Beside him is his older sister, Melody Nerdly, svelte figure packed into a red flannel shirt, tiny daisy duke shorts, and cowgirl boots. Eventually Abdullah eyes down a young security guard mingling at a catering table. Somehow the Syrian born grappler decides that this innocent soul is the perfect man to hear his problems and execute his plans for Anglemania. The guard stares at Abdullah with wistful eyes, his lonely heart yearning to lie between silk bedsheets, legs interwined with a man of Abdullah's unequaled beauty. Of course this fantasy evaporates, when Abs opens his mouth and begins making ludicrous claims and outrageous demands. ABDULLAH ABIR NERDLY Buddy, buddy, buddy! As a security guard and a trusted [i]friend[/i], I hope you can offer me some much needed assistance! As you well know by now Anglemania is this Sunday, and everyone is abuzz with speculation over who's going end the night with the title of Mister Money In The Bank. But I can ease all these anxious minds right now, because the answer to that quandary is me, Abdullah Abir Nerdly, speaker for the prophets. I was predestined by the gods to take victory over these twenty other blasphemers. But, my destiny isn't what's important right now. What's important, friend, is your role in Abdullah's crowning moment. As you know, I'm a multinational hero in both Syria and Canada, and my easily earned victory in Money In The Bank match will be a humongous deal across the globe. That means there will be quite the number of people trying to get into my locker room backstage to offer congratulations to your's truly. This is a problem. Why? Because Toronto, Ontario, the location of Anglemania, is known to have some of foulest, ugliest, women in all of Canada. And I need you to run a block, play the bouncer, and keep those freaks far away from Mister Money in The Bank. Can you do that, friend? GUARD I guess. But, to be honest, I'm not so sure you're going to win. Abdullah lets out a hearty laugh in response to that odd statement. ABDULLAH Who else could win besides me, [i]buddy[/i]? Who can eliminate a Syrian prince? MELODY Probably everyone in the known universe. GUARD One of the members of Black T could definitely do it. Abdulah can't help but chuckle at the mere absurdity of this claim. ABDULLAH Black T? GUARD Yeah, didn't you watch last week? They put everyone in their place! It was amazing! ABDULLAH The only reason Black T was able to leave the ring without the aid of EMTs and a pair of stretchers is because I wasn't around to put [i]them[/i] in their place. If I had been there, I would've taken the Sword of Damascus to both their necks and you could say goodbye to the supposedly greatest oaoast tag team of all time! My good friend, Money in the Bank belongs to Abdullah Abir Nerdly, it's that simple. There's not a soul on this planet that can stop me from my guaranteed world title shot. GUARD What about Bohemoth? He beat you down a couple weeks ago! The color is ripped clear off Abs' face, as the name of the Meterosexual Monster settles into his disturbed mind. ABDULLAH Bo..Bo...Bohemoth?! Let me wise you up on a little Bohemoth. His so-called “man handling” of me three weeks ago was born of pure jealously. Jealous of the success that my hard work has brought. Jealous that I am revered as a national hero in both Syria and Canada. Jealous of my religious beliefs. Jealous of the man, and jealous of the legend. There's is no reason he should treat me so disrespectfully! I never said a bad word about him! If he's such respectable representative of this company, as everyone claims, why would he attack an inspirational leader like me, instead of bowing at my feet and thanking me for my many contributions to society? It's like I said before: he's jealous. He should idolize me, not hate me, for I am the mighty dragon, and he is the scared villager! اعدكم الموت! :throwup: MELODY You're gay. From off in the distance the pitter patter off frantically running footsteps is heard. The jogger quickly emerges on screen, revealing themselves to be Maggie Nerdly, still in wrestling gear, and terribly excited over her first victory. MAGGIE Abdullah! Melody! Unable to control herself in the face of this enthusiasm, the speedy Maggie slams right into Abdullah, nearly knocking him into the security guard he's enlisted into his army. ABULLAH What in the good heavens?! Oh it's you. Hi, Melody. MELODY I'm Melody, you gooberstain. I've been standing next to you for like twenty minutes, how the hell could you not know that? MAGGIE And I'm Maggie! ABDULLAH Hmmm. When you have ten sisters it's difficult to keep them all straight. MAGGIE It's okay. But isn't this great? Me, you two, Marvin and Melvin all working together! I think that's pretty awesome, it's like a karmic apology from the world for all our older siblings having their heads shoved into toilets, their hair set on fire, and their underwear strewn up a flagpole. MELODY I tried to tell them Microsoft wasn't a safe place to work. The revenge of the Mac gods is swift and brutal! BWHAHAHHAAA! MAGGIE Melody, did you watch my match? Did I do well, big sis? MELODY I..I..well, uh Jade's cat just died of uh...um...AIDs , maybe, yes, that's good, AIDs, and I had to comfort her in this time of suffering. You understand, Maggie. MAGGIE (frowning in sympathy for Jade's “deceased” pet) I didn't know cats could get AIDs. MELODY It's something we have to raise awareness on, get the message out. Rest in peace ya'll Ninjas, there's a heaven for a G. AIDS Virus, all your base are belong to us. MAGGIE Well, tell your friend Jade that I'm sorry about her kitten. But Abby, isn't this awesome? We both kicked a-double s in our debut match? ABDULLAH :( نني حزين جدا من هذا الحدث ويسوؤنا كثيرا لي MELODY LOL @ this WE@K azz n00b! Good one, Mags! MAGGIE Oh sorry, big brother. My fault! It's okay, Abby, you can still put in a kick ass showing at Anglemania. I know you can win The Money In The Bank match! MELODY ROTFLMFAO! Once again, I say good one, Maggie. Good one. Superior one, even. 133T one. How's he supposed to do that, when Bohemoth's going to be patrolling the ring, waiting to squash him like Mario does a goomba! I can see it now, excuse me Bohmeoth sir, could you not rip my arms off and use them beat my body like a bongo drum? No? Then do you mind not removing my spinal cord from the rest of my body? No? Okay, that's fine. MAGGIE How can you speak like that, Melody? MELODY I open my mouth, and the words, and symbols, and numbers an acronyms, just come flying right out. Very amazing. MAGGIE You're wrong for that, Melody! We've all gotta stick together and encourage each other. You can't be so down on Abdullah. Come on, gang, let's be positive. Abby, this is an opportunity to test yourself against nineteen of the other toughest guys on the roster. Most people would kill for this chance, and you got it after only two weeks in the company. MELODY You had to make a few under the table deals with suspected terrorists, wanted criminals, and possible threats to United States security to do it, but who cares? MAGGIE (ignoring her older sister) Didn't we all come to the oaoast to fight the best in sports entertainment? MELODY I don't know what you're talking about, I came to get away from you people. ABDULLAH (also ignoring Melody, which seems to be a recurring theme in this family) Maggie, your pep talk is appreciated, but wasted, because my Money In The Bank victory, as the tagline goes, is etched in [i]stone[/i]. I shall lurk in the shadows of the ring, watching every move everyone makes. Inch by inch, step by step, second by second, I will patiently wait until the appropriate time to attack. And when that time comes, my struggle, and my heroics will finally bear fruit! Finally, my greatness will be rewarded! Money In The Bank will be my finest win, and their worst loss! لكم كل كلبات قتلى بالرصاص ما تريد عندما لا تنطلي على اي دخان لكم تقويم المعسرين يخدع لك :spank: م MAGGIE See, that's the Nerdly spirit! With that enthused comment, Maggie gives a hug to her older siblings, then departs the scene to do whatever is eighteen year olds do. I don't know. Watch My Hitlist on MTV Hits. Lupe Fiasco had [i]Weapon of Choice[/i] on there, and that was word as fuck. Christopher Walken all day like a motherfucker. MELODY That's odd, I was always led to believe the Nerdly spirit involved being slammed against your locker, forking over all the money in your pocket, the keys to whatever residence contains your prized possessions, and a subsequent begging for your worthless life to be spared. On that note screens across the globe return to sofa central. COACH You know Abdullah ain't related to Melody and Maggie like that. I mean he ain't, blood [i]blood[/i], you know what I'm saying? You think he ever...you know? Huh? I bet he does, I bet you!

Did I mention that this was an Anglepalooza rematch? I don't think I did! I think that Tony wanted this match to go on anytime after BHB/Rescue 911, if that would be permissible. Thank you! COLE Folks our next bout is an Anglepalooza rematch for the world tag team titles, pitting the challengers The Sooner Bruisers against the champions, Chicks Over Dicks. I'm joined by Enterprise members, Christian Wright and Mackenzie DeCenzo. I understand that you've reached a deal with The Sooner Bruisers. Perhaps you could tell us what it entails? CHRISTIAN WRIGHT Though the deal should be of minuscule concern to an insignificant troglodyte such as yourself, we shall humor you and bestow upon you the information you so eagerly seek. Mackenzie, if you would be so gracious? MACKENZIE DECENZO For The Bruisers victory over Chicks Over Dicks and subsequent relinquishing of the tag titles to The Enterprise, they will receive six hundred thousand dollars a piece, as well as the guaranteed services of Christopher Patrick Allen in their Sin City Street Fight at Anglemania. Not only that, but we are in negotiations with our Mexican partners Los Conquistadors to lend their assistance to the Bruisers at Anglemania for a nominal fee that will of course be covered by The Enterprise. Most importantly, the tag team titles will be given to The Enterprise in a posh coronation ceremony at Anglemania, featuring keynote speaker, Jeb Bush. COLE So for handing over the tag titles, The Bruisers get six hundred thousand dollars a piece, and their Sin City Street Fight turned into a five on two slaughter? You people never fail to shock me. MACKENZIE And you never fail to make me wish for your imminent death. The arrival of two of the most despised men in the OAOAST is marked by the music of [i]Frankenstein[/i] and the chorus of boos that come with it. Bellow the Angletron, which shows various conquest of Bruiser might, steps the detested duo themselves, The Sooner Bruisers. A maroon robe, covering matching shorts with the number 69 stitched into the groin, stands over Frank's muscular frame, as he boxes with an invisible opponent. As his brother pummels an imagined foe, Uber marches towards the squared circle, snarling into the camera. WRIGHT Though I am most grateful for our budding business venture, I fail to see how these gladiators can be so bedraggled and uncouth when placed in the same stratosphere as a dignified legion like The Enterprise! These men are remarkable for their unequaled ugliness and general disorder! COLE Well if there's anyone who stands a chance of getting you your titles it's The Sooner Bruisers, former Anderson Cup finalists and tag team champions. Of course I said the same thing about Maddix and Cortez and look how well that turned out for you. BUFFER The following contest is an Anglepalooza rematch for the OAOAST WORLD TAG TEAM TITLES. Introducing first, the challengers. From Oklahoma, weighing in at a combined weight of five hundred and thirty five pounds, they are former OAOAST tag team champions, and NCAA all Americans, combined between them they have won six NCAA wrestling championships, two world championships, eight high school championships, and seven USA wrestling championships, they are The Pyscho Gremlin, Uber Bruiser, The Man of Tomorrow, Big Frank Bruiser.....THE SOOOONER BRUISEEEEERSSS! Frank tears away his robe, and discards it to the floor, before sliding into the ring. He ascends to the top turnbuckle, where his massive muscles are flexed to the infinite disgust of the audience. Uber roams the outside, nodding to The Enterprise's representatives in between his efforts to intimidate the younger fans in the front row. [i][font="Arial Black"][color="#FF00FF"]Hey, hey, you, you I don't like your girlfriend! No way, no way! I think you need a new one Hey, hey, you, you I could be your girlfriend! Hey, hey, you, you! I know that you like me! No way, no way! No, it's not a secret Hey, hey, you, you!! I want to be your girlfriend![/color][/font][/i] The irresistibly bratty sound of [i]Girlfriend[/i] by Avril Lavinge floods the arena with a bouncing beat. It's soon met by a thunderous ovation from the now standing crowd, who bleat chants of “C-O-D! C-O-D!” A [color="#FF00FF"][b]pink[/b][/color] pyro waterfall rains from the ceiling splashing hot sparks about the entry way. It's then intercepted by a gorgeous [b][color="#FF0000"]red[/color][/b] pyro fountain, and multi colored embers dance across the area. Once the pairing subsides, a [b][color="#FFFF00"]golden[/color][/b] pyro wall engulfs the stage with it's tremendous size, leaving behind a thick haze of smoke in it's wake. A splendid image emerges through the rolling clouds, that of Krista Isadora Duncan's fitness model figure packed into Asian inspired black cropped to the chest halter top with a wide keyhole front, and a pink pinstriped pleated micro skirt. Behind her is Alix Spezia, attired in white tube top, matching booty shorts, and fluffy faux fur covered wrist bands and boots. The Hollywood Bad Girl gingerly bounces across the staging area, pumping her arms in tune to the beat and whipping the crazed crowd into further frenzy. COLE America's Sweethearts here in their state capital of Sacramento! I'm certain there are a couple politicians in the audience who have felt Krista's wrath over the years! MACKENZIE I can't believe these two were allowed to spend twenty minutes of television time insulting this wonderful man sitting next to me, as well as running down my sense of style! Dear sweet Theodore was so upset by that segment he had half a mind to place a call and have this entire network, and the Getty Museum shut down! WRIGHT Be not antagonized, friend, for our evening's cohorts, The Bruisers, shall plunge daggers deep into these dark whores' fetid hearts. Their acidic taunts [i]will[/i] leave them punished. Of that you can be certain. Ally's skipping is drawn to an abrupt halt the second Krista latches onto her arm. Unable and unwilling to escape the tight grip, she's twirled like a ballerina and pulled into her dancer partner's arms. Brushing a strand of hair away from her face, she flips an alluring kiss to camera causing cute super imposed [color="#FF0000"][b]red[/b][/color] lips to pop on the screen. BUFFER And the champions.... “C-O-D! C-O-D! C-O-D!” BUFFER .....first, from Los Angeles, California, she is a two time twenty four seven champion, the CEO of Mrs.Spezia's sweeties, The Hollywood Bad Girl, ALIX MARIA SPEZIA! And her partner, from Los Angeles, California, she is a best selling author, a fitness queen, and star of the world famous FIT with KID line of exercise videos, she is Miss California Krista Isaodra Duncan! Together they are three time OAOAST world tag team champions, America's Sweethearts, and Hollywood “It” Girls, Chicks Over Dicks! COLE Mackenzie I seem to remember that you were a 24/7 champion, beating Alix, but dropping your title back to her about ten minutes later. MACKENZIE A sugar coated version of the truth. I was only beaten when that skank tossed me into the trunk of Jessica Simpson's car. What can you say? Dodo birds of a feather flock together. But Alix wrestles as well as Jessica acts, which is why she'll lose tonight. As the girls trek down the aisle, Alix shows off her recently redecorated title, which now features extravagant pink and red Christmas lights, rose petals enshrining her name plate, Red Hot Chilli Peppers stickers cloaking all instances of the oaoast logo, a Jimi Hendrix X-mas ornament that plays Purple Haze with the flick of a switch, and a little slot that dispense perfume with the push of a button. Krista just tries to stay as far away as she possibly can from his amalgamation of crazy crap. Upon entering the ring, Krista stands on the first rope, and leans over the cables to beam a charmingly arrogant smirk to the millions of viewers world wide. Alix stands next to her, poking and prodding her like a child, begging Krista to look at her sparkling Ashlee Simpson stickers. COLE At Anglemania The Bruisers failed in their quest to regain their tag titles, losing when Krista reversed Frank's ankle lock into a pinfall. Frank had never tried that hold before and it's likely his unfamiliarity cost his team the titles. The Anglepalooza rematch begins with Big Frank facing Krista Isadora Duncan. No sooner then two seconds after the bell rings does Big Frank snare Krista into a collar and elbow tie up. Using his sizable strength advantage, he bulldozes the celebrity fitness guru into a neutral corner. The second they arrive in the location, referee Charles Robinson reminds the fearsome brawler that he has five seconds to break the count. In a surprising show of good sportsmanship, BFB breaks his hold at one. Perhaps it wasn't so surprising after all, as he now slams several boots into Krista's toned stomach. Miss California is able to brush aside the pain, and fight back with thudding kicks to his knee that push him towards the center of the squared circle. But BFB ends her moment of offense with an expert jab that lands perfectly on her beautiful face. She recoils a bit, but doesn't go far, as Bruiser takes hold of her arm and flings her into the cables. Upon her return she turns the tables on her foe, taking to the skies and bowling over Frank with a high flipping lariat! “K-I-D! K-I-D! K-I-D!” sing the still standing audience for their fellow Golden Stater. MACKENZIE If you read the Wall Street Journal you'll find articles of The Enterprise's many efforts to feed the hungry, heal the sick, and protect the needy. But while we're doing that you can flip open an issue of [i]US Weekly[/i] and find depraved paparazzi photos of Krista and Alix's latest night on the town. Yet they're cheered over us? Big Frank attempts to impale Krista with a big boot, but she catches his attacking shoe, then slams it into the canvas. Caught off guard by the counter, the amateur wrestling legend staggers backwards. The femme fatale uses his moment of disorientation to her advantage; she leaps onto the third rope then dazzles her home state crowd with a majestic springboard moonsault press. Big Frank makes an effort to get out of the way, but his attempted avoidance does more harm then good, and Krista's arm slashes through his neck, pushing them both to the canvas. Krista isn't quite finished wowing the audience however. With Big Frank a battered wreck on the mat, she shows off her Balanchine worthy ballet skills with no less then fourteen (trust me, that's alot) amazing pirouettes. Once her whirling deverish routine is completed, she takes to the skies and comes down across her rival's body with a standing shooting star press! Robinson scores the ensuing pinfall. CROWD ONE! CROWD TWO! The superfreak kicks out well before the three, but that doesn't stop the audience from chanting “THAT WAS THREE” Trying to derail COD's train of momentum, [i][b][color="#8B0000"]Uber[/color][/b][/i] enters the squared circle wielding a clothesline. But he's the one who gets [i]derailed[/i] as Krista overtakes him with a side effect! Floored by that one single attack, The Pyscho Gremlin rolls out of the ring, a defeated man. “K-I-D! K-I-D! K-I-D!” COLE I can see why you'd be fearful of wrestling Chicks Over Dicks. WRIGHT Your's is a comment of jealousy and I will afford it little attention. Jealous of The Enterprise's wealth, it's connections, it's lifestyle, it's unmatched athletic achievement, you and others of your [i]debauched[/i] ilk concoct falsifications and half truths, in a beggarly effort to devalue what is a priceless treasure, The Enterprise's uncomprable skill set as it pertains to matters of the professional grappling artistry. MACKENZIE You don't get to the top of the business and wrestling world by being fearful. And, ladies, you don't get to the top by insulting everyone you come upon. You just get beat up. Back in the ring, The Superfreak lobs a knee towards Krista's stomach. She deftly sidesteps the blow, but fails to avoid a quick elbow strike that puts The Man of Tomorrow on the offensive. He sangs her into a front facelock then upends her with a snap suplex. The second her body crunches into the canvas, Big Frank is floating over for the pinfall. However she kicks out well before Robinson can even count [i]one[/i], infuriating the Okie to no end. Both competitors rise to their feet at the exact same moment; Frank aiming for a soonerline, Krista seeking a hurricanrana. It's the vicious vixen who wins this brief exchange as her tan legs lace around his neck and flip him to the canvas with the highflying move. No sooner then the nausea sets in does Miss California bring BFB to his feet and lead him to her corner where a tag is applied to The Hollywood Bad Girl Alix Spezia. “ALIX! ALIX! ALIX!” The girls aim to please their adoring audience with a particularly gruesome hold, and shoot Big Frank into the orange cables to begin it. When he returns to their position, they both spring to the air, and horsewhip their expensive footwear across the back his head with twin enziguris! As the crowd bellows their approval, and a disgusting smacking sound travels through the ringside microphone, Frank topples to the canvas, the life all but drained from his pale face. WRIGHT By the gods, Franklin! MACKENZIE Calm down, Christian, it's still very early. While Krista exits stage left, her partner covers The Man of Tomorrow's remains. Robinson counts the fall. CROWD ONE CROWD TWO Frank kicks out, drawing applause from Mackenzie and Christian on the outside. The Man of Tomorrow rises to an unsteady vertical base and eyes a tag with his brother. However his passage to freedom is blocked by the culinary sensation, who whips him into a neutral corner. Big Frank calls upon a rare show of agility to avoid a collision with the ring posts, pressing his hands onto the second rope and handstanding his body into the air. Unfortunately his impressive counter allows Alix to easily surge forward drive her furry boots into his face! While the onlookers holler in glee, BFB moans in raw agony as his beaten body sinks into a tree of woe position. As Frank struggles with his unenviable situation, Ally plays to the redneck in all of us, and does a bit of square dancing, that has Uber on the apron calling for her head. Once the California cutie is done with her ho down she sprints towards Frank, and pulverizes his already grotesque facial features with a baseball slide kick. “SAFE!” Alix yells, making the Umpire's trademark hand motion, and lending further insult to Frank's misery. WRIGHT Would now be the appropriate moment to fasten words so bitter onto our snakebit collaborators? MACKENZIE Give it time, Christian. They are dealing with three time tag team champions. Empires don't fall in a day. As The Superfreak lies on the mat, scarcely able to recollect his own name, much less where he is, the bubbly brunette scales to top turnbuckle, facing away from her aggrieved rival. ALIX :headbang: After the round of rocking out is finished, Alix sits out onto the cables, then thrusts her limber body backwards in a split legged moonsault. The Man of Tomorrow tries to roll away, but he moves far too late, and Ally Cat crashes down onto him in a pinning situation. The fall is counted by referee and crowd alike... CROWD ONE CROWD TWO The audience's hopes are dashed as BFB lifts his shoulder off the mat. He rises to his feet, where Alix is ready to meet him with an axe kick. But her flexible strike is delayed when he pumps an elbow into the side of her head. Satisfied with his only contribution to the match, The Man of Tomorrow decides not to push his luck any further and ventures to his corner to apply the tag to his younger sibling, Uber. WRIGHT In class, intelligence, wit, and grace this swine is improvised. Yet in the categories of strength, instinct, and athletic wherewithal, he enjoys a compliment of riches. MACKENZIE Precisely why I'm confident he'll live up to his end of the bargain. The Pyscho Gremlin enters the battle field by rushing towards Alix with the [b][color="#8B0000"]Soonerline[/color][/b]. But Ally ducks bellow his oncoming charge, and he zooms towards Krista as a result. However, Uber is fairly confident that he'll be able to blast her into the fourth row with the devastating strike. How wrong he is! Krista extends her long leg over the ropes, and swats him to the canvas. While the audience chants her name, she springs onto the third cable, then vacates the ledge to smash her New Balance tennis shoes into her rival's muscular back. The pain of the amazing strike has nary a second to register in Uber's pea sized mind before Ally Cat takes him into an okalhoma roll.... CROWD ONE! CROWD TWO! And again a Bruiser escapes the fall. Uber wastes little time in grousing about COD's dubious double teaming; instead he lashes at Alix with a european uppercut while both competitors are still on their knees. He then drags the home state favorite to her feet. Alix's eyes are blurred, a troubling by product of the violent uppercut, and The Pyscho Gremlin senses the makings of victory are near. With a treacherous grin taking hold of his features, he thrusts Ally into the ring cables. Then as the brunette beauty comes sprinting towards him he lunges for her legs, catching her right knee with his broad shoulder. The three time tag team champion emits a heart wrenching cry of pain as she flops forward. But Uber allows her no rest for her weary bones, and wrenches her back upright. The psychotic brawler locks her into a tightly held front facelock, and pulls her farther away from her corner, so that Krista will have zero opportunity to rescue her. Once he's assured that Krista is clearly out of the picture, he dives backwards and crashes Alix's skull into the canvas with a DDT! “OW OW OW!” Uber howls into the night sky. “NINTEY DAYS! NINTEY DAYS!” chant the audience, reminding The Bruisers how long they stand to be out of action should they lose to the Heavenly Rockers at Anglemania. WRIGHT The power! The anamalisitc dynamism! The mechanical brawn! All inherent Bruiser qualities that these shameless jezebells are ill equipped to counteract in adequate manner. Tag team championship thy name is Enterprise! Smiling through crooked teeth, Uber hooks Alix's far left leg, and Robinson moves into position for the count. ONE TWO But Alix escapes the pinfall well before the three, robbing Uber of his six hundered thousand dollar dream. The Bruiser brother just stares with weepy eyes at Robinson, struck utterly dumb by the failure to acquire the three count. MACKENZIE Instead of sitting there making a pouty puppy dog face, why don't you get back to the task we're paying you to preform? Perhaps having heard Mackenzie's rather rudely stated advice, Uber takes a chunk of Ally's luscious brown hair and leads to her feet. He tangles the helpless maiden within the ring ropes, leaving her body exposed to any manner of violent assaults his devious mind can concoct. His move of choice is a basic but deadly running avalanche. But The Hollywood Bad Girl has no wish to be flattened by a sociopathic redneck and makes moves to counter the attack. As he nears she draws her fur coated boots into the air, smacking him under the chin, and loosening several of his yellowed teeth. As a side effect of the counter, she's flipped over the ropes, and onto the ring apron. Acting with great speed, she targets a shoulder block towards The Gremlin's plump gut to set up a sunset flip. But he side steps the strike and returns fire with a clubbing forearm across her back. The blow weakens poor Alix significantly and permits him to effortlessly take her into a front facelock. The beach babe desperately reaches onto the ropes for some protection against the strike. But it's to no avail, and Uber succeeds in torpedoing her skull through the canvas with another DDT! “LET'S GO ALIX! LET'S GO ALIX!” chants the crowd at Krista's urging. WRIGHT Such loutish bumpkins! Is it of any wonderment to any man of class and true repute, as to why the simple among us take to this tawdry filth merchant who's one skill is spreading her legs to whomever or whatever waves a dollar in front of her face? The Pyscho Gremlin pulls himself up by the ropes, and charges towards Ally, determined not to afford her a single second to recover. Alix meets her oncoming assailant with a sweeping roundhouse kick. But her left leg gives out on her, and Uber easily evades the resulting sloppiness. He then turns to face his off balance foe, and with fearsome grin on his face, unleashes a mighty discus clothesline. But Alix ducks underneath the fatal strike, to the audience's and Krista's delight, and is able to secure his free arm in her possession. Yet there's little she can do with this advantage, as Uber quickly wrestles control away from her, and takes her down with the third ddt of the match! Ally elicits a saddening cry of agony as she clutches her wounded head. COLE Alix is starting to take quite the beating right now. MACKEZNIE Exactly as we planned it, Mitchell. COLE Michael. MACKENZIE I don't particularly care. Back in the ring, Uber hooks Alix's legs, leaning all his weight onto her tiny body as the pinfall is scored by Robinson. ONE TWO Alix gets her shoulder off the mat, and her fellow Californians are ecstatic as a result. Both Bruisers are flabbergasted by the count, and angrily belittle Charlie Robinson for his miserable officiating. COLE The Bruisers starting to lose their cool here. Not much of a surprise. While the brothers grim fight a pointless verbal battle, Ally uses their second of distraction to head to her wobbly vertical base. Unfortunately her sporadic movements are spotted out of the corner of Uber's eye, and he leaves Big Frank to deal with the annoying official. Alix tries to fend off the approaching pugilist, but her strikes have zero affect on the brute, and he overtakes her with an irish whip. But our adorable heroine stymies whatever move he may have attempted by leaping onto the third rope. She moonsaults back, adding an extra rotation that permits her to cut her elbow through his jaw! Both competitors plunge to the mat, as the spectators salute Alix's graceful showing. Their beloved babe speedily attempts a pinfall... CROWD ONE CROWD TWO The denizens of the state capital are rabid when they watch Uber power his way off the mat! “BAREBACK BRUISER! BAREBACK BRUISER!” they chant towards the hated tag team, causing Frank to turn his head and bark orders of “SHUT THE HELL UP!” While Frank bickers with the pro-COD crowd, his little brother stands up, feeling as if he'd just been hit in the face with a speeding anvil. However, he's able to brush aside pain long enough to lob a lariat Alix's way. But Ally rolls bellow his approaching arm, and uncurls into an attack stance, immediately using it to slash The Pyscho Gremin's face with a whirling kick. The pure force of the strike sinks Uber to his knees, and pours blood from his mouth. Miss Spezia capitalizes on his wounded state by slashing her legs into his thick neck with a fameasser! “YEAAAAAA!” MACKENZIE Tell everyone to settle down, Martin, because flops and flips and flashy forays won't keep The Bruisers from their reward nor will they keep the tag team championships away from The Enterprise. COLE My name is.. WRIGHT Whatever the marvelous splendor of female form to my right deems it to be. Ally's elbows descend rapid fire onto Uber's visage, her bloody snarls hinting to a deep seeded predatory nature. After her sixth malice ridden strike scores an admonishment from the official, The Hollywood Bad Girl tugs Bruiser up by his arm and leads him to her corner where she tags Krissy. Miss California's reentry receives a gargantuan pop from rabid audience, but there's little time to bask in the cheers, as she's already barking stern orders. While Ally waits with a mischievous smile behind Uber, Krista slingshots herself over the cables and into the ring. As she nears her rival, her delectable legs extend forward, allowing her tennis shoes to slam into his beefy chest. But the impact of the awesome attack doesn't drop Uber to the canvas, as one would expect. Rather it deposits him into the frigid confines of Alix's inverted facelock. Ally acts with supernatural speed as she twists both their bodies in a violent manner and dives downward, shattering his neck with a “roll the dice”. Krista would love to go for the pin, but Alix has deemed this the appropriate time give shout outs to her homies near and far. “My granddad, rest in peace. Eatin some menudo for you tomorrow, holmes. Tupac Shakur, rest in peace. South Central all day, son. Bowie Kuhn, rest in peace. Byrdgang got much love for you. COD reign all world, from SoCal to NoCal, houston to the taliban. Byrdgang bang with metal pipes, elucidate theorems that reduce ya'll to serums.” Krista watches Alix depart the ring, with a look that reads “what have I done to warrant this crap?” When the source of her years of torment is finally situated on the ring apron, Krista is free to pin Uber. Robinson scores the fall... CROWD ONE CROWD TWO MACKENZIE No! You're throwing away six hundred thousand dollars, you moron! Kick out! Motivated by Mackie's unusual coaching technique, Uber hauls his shoulder off the mat at the last possible second. He gets to his feet, eager to make up for his repeated failings, and lock down his six hundred thousand dollar prize. But Krista is an unwilling passenger down Uber's road to redemption, and attempts to floor him with a standing enziguri. Uber shifts his head to left in order to avoid the volley. This proves to be a terrible miscalculation on his part, as Krista simply brings her other leg around and pulls him over with a modified head scissors. Uber is sent trundling forward like tumble weed, and when he's finally able to arrive to a vertical base, his swirling world is filled with visions of the fast approaching champion. He counteracts her rapid onslaught by latching onto her lovely legs then flinging her backwards, with hopes of smearing her makeup (among other things) across the ring posts. Miss California dashes these hopes permanently when her sneakers land expertly onto the third ropes. Smirking to himself, Uber turns around, certain that he'll find a whimpering, wounded Krista ready for his devouring. Imagine his horror when he eyes her descending upon him with a corckscrew moonsault press! The Pyscho Gremlin can do nothing more then scream in shock as Krissy's billion dollar body slams into him! “K-I-D! K-I-D! K-I-D!” COLE Christian, do you think you and Theodore Moneymaker can handle the girls' flash and speed come Anglemania? I know you couldn't last year.... WRIGHT What a foolish donkey your detestable commentary has divulged you as! It is with short-sighted haste that you imprudently dismiss these Sooner Bruisers. MACKENZIE The Enterprise won't need to deal with any speed come Anglemania, because COD won't even make it that far. Uber scrapes his humiliated carcass off the mat and begins taking his gathered frustration out on Krista's tight stomach with a duo of right jabs. Though the blows don't pack much punch, they're enough to double Miss California over and leave her in vulnerable state. The Oklahoma native capitalizes on her moment of weakness, and drops a clubbing forearm across her back. The strike pushes her to the mat, where her back is further decimated by a round of brutal stomps. As each strike lands with pinpoint accuracy, a yelp of distress leaves Krista's quivering lips. COLE Here's the Bruisers doing what the Bruisers do best, bruising. MACKENZIE Did you come up with that insightful bit of analysis all on your own, Micah? Leaving Krista to blubber and sob on the canvas, Uber journeys to his corner to tag in The Man of Tomorrow, Big Frank Bruiser. His entrance into the contest puts him directly in the bulls eye of public opinion and the audience assaults him chants of “Bruisers suck! Bruisers suck!” COLE Big Frank didn't fare too well in his previous time in this match. I hope that for your's and his wallet's sake that he does a bit better. WRIGHT The Enterprise does not thirst for the nugatory emptiness of your hope, Mister Cole. Nay, we demand only your deathless loyalty and unfading respect. MACKENZIE Once Frank and Uber turn the titles over, we'll make sure you give it to us. Big Frank Bruiser arrives to the ring and immediately undertakes the task of punishing the fan favorite. Harsh stomps tear away at her back, and bring forth croaks of despair. After his stompfest concludes, he takes a chunk of her vibrant gold locks and roughly yanks her upright. “Not so tough now, bitch!” he screams, as he delivers an elbow smash to the small of her back. Krista lurches forward, wincing in obvious pain. The vulgar pugilist only heaps on additional misery when he strides forward and lances a lariat into her back. The impact of the attack sinks Krista to her bare knees, and spreads a white pain throughout her back. Bruiser stands above his injured foe and pounds her back with forearms. The strikes leave Krista in a state of utter desperation, and she stands up in order to run as far away as humanely possible from The Man of Tomorrow. But BFB traps her in place by sliding her arm between his legs and taking firm hold of it. He hooks her other arm, putting her into the perilous pumphandle position. “How's this for bareback Bruising, faggots?” Frank screams to the irate pairing of Alix and the audience, then proceeds to grind his crotch into his whimpering foe's luscious backside. “[b]BOOOOO[/b]!” they jeer, as Alix is barely able to be restrained by Robinson. WRIGHT When a trollop choses to outfit herself in that fashion of skimpy rainment then any wickedness that should bechance her is of faults solely her own. After Frank completes his horrible showing, he lifts Krista up, then plants her onto his knee with a pumphandle back breaker! Krissy rolls over onto her stomach, not certain what's worse, the agony in her back, or the humiliation she just endured. BFB feels it should be the former, and drives this point home by kissing his enormous bicep then dropping the point of his elbow onto her back. As she screams in pain, he rolls her onto her back, and attempts the pinfall.... ONE TWO Miss California delights the capacity crowd by shooting her shoulder off the mat just in time to keep the tag title belt around her waist and six hundred thousand dollars away from the Bruisers. MACKENZIE We were only a half a second away from owning the most prestigious tag team championship in all of sports entertainment. It's only a matter of time, Christian. Krista rolls onto her stomach, the pain ripping through her body, almost preventing her from standing upright. Ever the gentlemen, BFB assists her to her feet, then promptly forces her into a standing head scissors. Despite the duress she's under, she stages an admirable fight against his clutches. However Bruiser is able to subdue her by reaching underneath her chest and crossing her arms bellow her stomach. The Man of Tomorrow begins to haul upward, but in one final act of desperation, she hooks her leg between his, and prays to the gods above to stay grounded. Frank is resilient and continues to try to lift Krista off the ground. But her entanglement is too much to overcome, and eventually he releases the hold. Consumed by frustration, the roaring Bruiser stiffly elbows her injured back. The shot smacks the breath from her lungs, and buckles her to her knees. This position permits her foe to ensnare her into a facelock, that precedes him lifting her into the sky for a vertical suplex. But instead of simply dropping her backwards, he brings her forward and slams her back first across his out stretched knee! The sound of her bones cracking against his leg mixes with her own cries of anguish, and causes the audience to boo in disgust. The rest of her cries are lost in the crunching sound her face makes under the impact of a clenched fist. The same fist opens, seizing her by her neck, yanking her corpse off the ground, and then once again ripping her back through his outstretched knee with a chokebreaker. WRIGHT Deny it not, Cole, days of glory are soon to be in the sole possession of The Enterprise! Miss California somehow manages to stand up under her own power. But she has no time to gloat over the small accomplishment, as The Man of Tomorrow is launching a forearm towards her head. She ducks bellow the blow, and extends her leg towards his turned back. Yet, BFB is one step of ahead of her, and swirls around to catch her spotless tennis shoe. His muscular arm then raises for the beginnings of a lariat. It's a move Kris wants no part of, and she backflips away from The Enterprise's gunman. Her avoidance does nothing to deter Frank, however, and as she lands, her baby blue eyes spot him bearing down on her with the [b]Soonerline[/b]! Krista avoids certain decapitation by rolling underneath the incoming attack. Moving in perfect concentration with Frank's body, she backflips towards him as he turns to face her, and attaches her ankles around his neck. Before he can even mount a suitable defense, she's upending him with a head scisssors! “[b]K-I-D! K-I-D! K-I-D![/b]” scream the audience, while Alix jumps for joy on the ring apron. As the dizzied warrior gets upright, Krista charges to him. He succeeds in avoiding whatever attack she had in mind, by placing his hand onto her back and pushing her into the cables. The blond bombshell establishes that counter as a roundly bad idea, when she handsprings off the ropes and slams her elbow into the nose of her adversary. MACKENIZE Don't bother opening your mouth, Mitchell, this is just a minor bump in the road. When The Enterprise has it's coronation ceremony at Anglemania, you'll see that all went according to plan. COLE My lips were sealed, [i]Michelle[/i]. Big Frank doesn't quite share in the same (over?)confidence as his employer, and snags the speedy Californian into a headlock to slow down her frantic pace. WRIGHT Krista Isadora Duncan is nothing but a shiftless liberal dog; well educated yes, but what good are such acquirements if one's soul is no cleaner then the squalid floorings of an adult cinema. A cinema flaunting a feature her life partner has starred in, no doubt. With the headlock still applied, Big Frank grabs Krista's left shoulder to form an underhook. Miss California's shoulder spasms as her enemy lets the agony course through her veins. He adds further pressure to the underhook, then wrenches her chin to the side. BFB steps forward, and cocks his hip, letting his gargantuan body timber to the left! Taken totally by surprise, Krissy soars through the air and over Frank's hip, until she crashes into the canvas back first. No sooner then one second later, does Big Frank's frame explode on her like a nuclear bomb. Robinson counts the resulting pinfall, while Krista whimpers underneath the hulk of flesh on top of her. ONE MACKENZIE Simon says we should have a jazz band play at the tag title coronation ceremony. Radical idea, to be sure, and I'd rather stick to a classical orchestra. Christian, what do you think? TWO Mackie's plans for booking a band will have to be put on hold, thanks to Krista kicking out! The audience and Alix are quite delighted, but Frank lets the official know that the next unfavorable count he makes could be his last. With that ominous warning, Frank ventures to his corner and applies the tag to his younger sibling, Uber. “BRUISERS SUCK! BRUISERS SUCK!” yell the onlookers. The Psycho Gremlin pays the jeers no mind, and instead goes to work on Krista's oft-targeted back with a round of stomps. She wilts underneath the torrent of strikes, but just as they look to be doing immense damage, he inexplicably calls them to a close and brings her to her feet. He bends the helplesss tomboy over, and hooks her arms behind her back, rendering her powerless to prevent his forthcoming attack. He then lifts his victim into the air, and promptly drops her to his side. Upon her descent, her back first fall is intercepted by his outstretched knee, and a deep throated wail leaves her throat. WRIGHT Reestablishing the subject of the choral fare at our [i]cérémonie des champ[/i], what say your auditorial affectations to a zydeco assemblage? MACKENZIE Too [i]agriculturist[/i]. Uber lifts Krista's limp body onto his broad shoulders, and clamps down onto her neck and leg. After twirling around to showcase his gorgeous catch to the hateful audience, he releases her legs and pushes her frame out so that it swings straight behind his body. As she floats adrift in the air, The Psycho Gremlin keeps hold of her neck and falls to the mat, executing a painful back breaker rack into a neckbreaker. Krista feels a flash of blue-white pain as the colossal power of the move hits home. The scream that it forces from her dies as a high pitched bubbling in her throat. Sniffing blood in the water, the great white stands his meal upright. But she proves she has a little life left in her, and fights him off with a kneeling jawbreaker! Uber recoils, clutching his wounded jawline, and Krista seizes on this quickly fading opportunity by lashing at him with a yakuza kick. But her foot misses the mark, as The Psycho Gremin evades it's trajectory. Unable to control her speeding body, Krista's leg crashes over the top rope and ties her into a treacherous position. Uber “aids” her in escaping her predicament when he tucks his head beneath her elbow, wraps his arms around her slender waist, and drags her into the sky. After stepping back towards the center of the ring, he dives backwards, shattering Krissy's back across the mat with a backdrop suplex. The sharp pain of the hold shocks the formerly dazed champion wide awake, and she screams for assistance. An outraged Alix tries to come to Krista's rescue, but finds Charles Robinson an impossible obstacle to pass. The momentary distraction affords Frank the chance to enter the ring and inflict his own punishment upon Krista. He strides forward and punts her back with the toe of her boot, drawing distressed coughs from the wounded champion. “[b]BOOOOO![/b]” Robinson turns away from Alix to spot the source of the fans' anger, but sees only Frank resting idly on the apron, and Uber holding Krista by her hair, and rifling clubbing forearms into her back. As the official fully returns to the action, Uber sends Krissy careening into the corner courtesy of an Irish whip. But Krista utilizes her dancer's leg strength bounds to the top rope, while her rival trails her with a body splash. As he nears, she flings herself backwards with a twisting cross body block. However, Uber steps out of the way and it looks for the moment that Krista might undergo a collision with the mat. But she's able to crook her arm around his neck, then uses her downward momentum to spike his head into the floor with a DDT! Sadly, there's not even a second for the crowd to cheer before Big Frank interjects himself into the fray, and maims Miss California with a catastrophic [b]Soonerline[/b]! Krista hits the canvas a defeated wreck, eyes locked shut, mouth breathing heavily. A wealth of warnings are instantly issued by Robinson over the voices of wrathful crowd. But all the threats of disqualification in the world can do nothing to heal the immeasurable damage done to Krista. WRIGHT Ha! She finally bears the awful burden of her crimes of living in hedonistic revelry and sinful debauchery for all the days of her depraved, alcohol indulged life! MACKENZIE A pin would be ideal right about now. Wise words, indeed, but ones that aren't followed by the pigheaded Bruiser. As Uber is unable to control his desire to administer more pain to his already vegetative foe, he forgoes the pinfall and instead scrapes her off the mat. While her spiritless frame stands up, The Psycho Gremlin slides his thumb across his throat in a universally disdained gesture, that earns it's share of boos from the capacity crowd. COLE According to Uber this match is over! That means we'll have new tag team champions, The Enterprise, and The Heavenly Rockers will be forced into five on two handicap match at Anglemania! Uber applies a standing head scissors onto Krista, then scoops her into the sky so that he can administer a powerbomb. However, Krista calls upon a remarkable surge of strength, and locks her legs around his wide neck. The fans buzz their approval as their heroine begins to frantically pump her fists into Bruiser's skull. After carving open a deep gash in Uber's forehead with her twelfth strike, Krista applies a front facelock and pushes her legs off his shoulders. In mid air the fitness queen gives her body violent twirl, jerking the unwitting Bruiser around with her in order to pulverize his cranium with a tornado DDT! [B]“[color="#FF0000"]YEAAAA[/color]!”[/B] Uber crumples to the canvas, face blank, mouth slack. It would be a perfect time for Krista to pin him, were she not lying at his side, besieged by even worse exhaustion than he. The Sacramento crowd raises their voice to the highest decibel level of the night, as they scream in undying support for the tag team champion. “LET'S GO KRISTA! LET'S GO KRISTA!” they bleat, while Alix smashes her hand against the turnbuckle to rally Krista to her corner. Not a single muscle is moved by either competitor as Robinson slowly counts. “One!” Stillness. “Two!” Stillness. “Three!” Stillness. “Four” Uber stirs, giving rise to an audible groan from the audience. His aim isn't to strike Krista down with another offensive attack, rather he wishes to tag in Big Frank to finish the assassination they've been paid to execute. “Five” the count is solely for Krista now. “Six!” Stillness. “Seven!” Stillness. “LET'S GO KRISTA! LET'S GO KRISTA!” A loud slap echoes throughout the arena as the hands of Uber and Frank meet, bringing The Man of Tomorrow into the contest. Frank has little intention of letting Robinson's unbearably slow count finish Krista off. No, he wants the pleasure of doing it himself. And it's with flame filled eyes that he marches towards her, the camel clutch the only thing on his mind. And this is where the defeat of The Sooner Bruiser's begins. In Krista's mind they're dead already, the rest is mere detail. The play is still on, and the comedy continues, as the hissing and growling Frank nears the currently docile woman. But the theatre of the Bruisers' suddenly morphs into a tragedy of ancient Greek proportions when Krista kips up, and obliterates Frank's visage with a superkick. The Man of Tomorrow topples over, cringing, shrinking with dread. And the heroine of this play uses her last great surge of energy to dive backwards and tag in her savior, Alix Spezia. “ALIX! ALIX!” the noise level of the crowd is deafening, the announcers can scarcely be heard over their cheers. “YA'LL WHITE BOYS DONE FUCKED UP NOW!” screams Alix as she slingshots herself into the ring and upends an unsuspecting Uber with a dropkick. WRIGHT Bruiser clan, be bold against your disputants! Brandish thy sword and manage it to slay these ladies of the evening! Christian's coaching goes unheeded, and Alix once again takes Uber off his feet with another crowd popping dropkick. The Psycho Gremlin rises just as quickly as he feel, but this time Alix doesn't get the chance to dropkick him, as he launches the feisty diva towards a corner. Ally avoids the brutal collision with the ringposts by leaping onto the third turnbuckle. Unfortunately there's still the matter of the rampaging Bruiser to attend to. She handles this situation with typical style and speed, moonsaulting towards her incoming attacker. Her arm flares out to the side while still in midair, catching onto his neck while her body buzzes by him. She lands on her feet, with her foe captured into an inverted facelock. From there she brings her right leg across his neck, then drops to the canvas, severing his throat between her limb and the mat! “ALIX! ALIX! ALIX!” With The Psycho Gremlin incapacitated for the time being, Alix eyes this as a splendid moment to treat the fans to their favorite of her signature moves. Her knees touch her elbows and her booty vigorusly bounces like a Scott Storch beat, and men across the country-REAL FUCKING MEN, men who aren't afraid to admit that they pitched a tent during the oiled-up loin clothed homoerotic goodness of [i]300[/i], and who can no longer resist their pathetic urges to fantasize about a life led differently, a life led between the glorious hug of Alix's voluptuous buttcheeks-finally know that there is a god, and this god can produce beautiful forms of women who are capable of moonsaulting over and driving the point of their knee into Uber Bruiser's face. Robinson scores the resulting pinfall... CROWD ONE MACKENZIE This can't be happening! CROWD TWO CROWD [b]THREE!![/b] Not quite, as Big Frank clambers to Alix's position and ends the count with a boot to her back. As she tries to figure out who or what just struck her, he takes advantage of her confusion by raising her upright, then shooting her off to the ropes. When she returns, he takes hold of her waist and twists her through the air like an out of control rollercoaster. After the full 360 rotation concludes he punishes her against the beige canvas with a tilt-a-whirl sidewalk slam. He hooks her leg for what he's certain will be the pinfall that makes him six hundred thousand dollars richer... ONE TWO WRIGHT Consorts, compatriots, bedfellows and adherents, thy mission has been accomplished, you sit beside the endeared company of champions! Christian has spoken far too soon, as Krista ends the pinfall with an elbow drop, drawing a huge pop from the rafters. Angered by her intrusion, BFB strikes her down with a punch to the gut the second he gets to his feet. The attack buckles her knees and permits him to shove her into a standing head scissors. Unfortunately for him, while Krista may be subdued, Alix certainly isn't, and her method of attack presents a nearly insurmountable problem. She charges towards their location, and uses Kris' back as a launching pad to rocket into the sky. As she moves in range of BFB's head, her knee flicks out, ready to burn through his face. So, Frank does the only thing he can do, tuck his neck, and pray that Alix' misses him. His prayers don't go [i]unanswered[/i] and the once deadly bullet sails harmlessly overhead. With The Hollywood Bad Girl indisposed, Frank wastes no time in hauling her partner onto his shoulders for a powerbomb. But like a lethal boomerang, Alix returns when Frank least expects and takes out his knees with a chop block! The sudden jolt pulls The Man Of Tomorrow off his feet, and he and Krista crash into the mat in a pinning situation most favorable to COD! MACKENZIE I can't take much more of this! CROWD ONE CROWD TWO CROWD [b][color="#FF0000"]THREE[/color][/b]! No! Uber returns to the affair and shoves Krista off his brother, much to the chagrin of Alix and the attendees. Unlike the audience, Alix is more then capable of taking her aggression out on the vexing brawler, and she does just that when she strikes him with a dropsault! His close proximity to the ropes proves to be his undoing, as the attack hurtles him over the cables like a misfired torpedo. He lands on his feet, but is still too groggy to reenter the ring. This moment of bewilderment is all Krista needs to make certain that we've seen the last of The Psycho Gremlin. Tossing caution to the wind, she launches herself over the cables and extends her body into a swanton bomb. By the time Uber realizes the direness of his situation the guillitoine's blade is already inches from his neck, chopping him into a useless heap of sweat and bones! “C-O-D! C-O-D!” they fans sing as Krista all but ends Uber's time in this contest. COLE It looks like all your hopes rest with The Man Of Tomorrow. MACKENZIE The Man of Tomorrow may not live to see tomorrow if he screws this up! Back in the squared circle, Ally dashes to Frank to eliminate him with a shinning wizard. But Frank uses his brute strength to overpower Alix, and catch onto her slender waist. With frim grasp on the diva he shoots her into the air and brings her down with a sit out spine buster! Robinson gets into position to count what's certain to be a match ending pinfall, but this action is for naught, as Frank refuses to pin Alix. It's a strange decision that pushes Mackie to the brink of a heart attack. But as silly as neglecting the pinfall was, BFB's next move, climbing to the top rope, is what truly pushes Mackenzie over the edge. COLE What's he doing up there? MACKENZIE Exposing himself as a moron. Get down this very instant! Mackie's misgivings are well founded; Frank is prevented from leaping off his nest by a firm clamp on his ankle. The annoyed brawler turns to his side to see the cause of his entrapment, and finds that it's [i][b]Melody Nerdly[/b][/i], who he and his brother bound and gagged two weeks ago. “Get the fuck off me, bitch!” He hollers over the yell of the Sacramento audience. “Time to die n00b! Let's do this, [b][size="3"]LEEEERRROOOOOOY JEEEEEENNIIIKKNS![/size][/b]” she responds, and if you got the last part it's time to turn off World Of Warcraft and go outside more often. WRIGHT (standing up) Guards, remove her at once! Frank's struggles with the world's cutest computer geek, present Ally with the perfect opportunity to ascend to this location. She maneuvers her body behind his, which allows her to trap him within a full nelson. The Man of Tomorrow bucks and thrashes against the lovely duo's restraints, but his efforts meet little success. Proceeded by the roar of the crowd, The Hollywood Bad Girl kicks Frank's legs away from the turnbuckle. Gravity does it's part by plummeting the hollering Bruiser to the rock solid hell bellow.... MACKENZIE No! No! No! No! After what seems like an eternity of being adrift in space, the pairing falls like a meteor and explodes into the canvas at the hands of a marvelous top rope [b][color="#483D8B"]You have died of dysentery[/color][/b] (full nelson face crusher). It's Frank who endures the entirety of terrific boom, and as cheers from the joyous crowd swell above him, his mind, body, and soul fade into a blackness. And with that Alix applies the long awaited cover... CROWD & MELODY ONE CROWD & MELODY TWO WRIGHT It can not be! CROWD & MELODY [b]THREE![/b] The screams of glee from the girls' fellow Californians are deafening, shaking the ring to it's very core as [i]Girlfriend[/i] returns to the audio forefront of the arena. The usually loathsome Frank, lies in perfect stillness, a hurtless corpse unaware that opportunity of a lifetime has slipped through his fingers. Melody stands above him, holding Alix's triumphant arm into the air and says in her best impression of Yoda, “Only begun the h@x warz has. L0L!!” The legendary announcer, Michael Buffer, rises to herald the victors “YOUR WINNERS AND STILL OAOAST WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS....CHICKS OVER DICKS!” Krista renters the ring to give Melody an appreciative hug, and then sweep Alix into a tight embrace. MACKENZIE I..I..I...what the hell just happened?! The Bruisers aren't supposed to lose. Not to them! No way! This wasn't planned, this isn't the way it was laid out in the board room. Explain! COLE I think you're learning what many tag teams have found out over the years, it is a very difficult if not impossible task to beat Chicks Over Dicks. Some of the best tag teams in the oaoast have fallen to them, and many have fallen multiple times. The Bruisers have once again come up short against the girls, but how will they fare when their livelyhood is placed on the line against, The Heavenly Rockers. And I guess we'll see you at Anglemania in a competitive role after all, Christian Wright? WRIGHT Frolic amongst the black parade that is The Enterprise's current mischance all you may like, Mister Cole, for that is your right. But hear this, and hear this well, what countless ill trained, ill tempered, and ill equipped thugs have failed to do, best these harlots, will be a task accomplished within mere seconds by myself and The Billion Dollar Heir, Theodore Moneymaker at Anglemania. Alix and Krista's fate, I sin by dignifying them by their names, shall be a melancholy one. Like that of a fallen civilizations now poking like splinter shards from the green grown tumulus of time swept obscurity! COLE What did he just say? MACKENZIE He said you should visit The Enterprise's website to get his latest stock tips and financial predications, and he said you're an idiot!