Patty O'Green

Timeout, youngblood! Patty isn't hip to you TSMer's lingo, so can you explain what exactly is the situation with leena, the pit, and czech. And can you explain who or what the pit and leena are? You can PM me if you want. Now, is it really so bad that you want him excluded from an e-fed because of it, dear?

Hi! Nice to see you, loyal reader! It's not so hot, but oh well. At least it got little used characters on screen. [i][b]Well woman the way the time cold I wanna be keepin' you warm[/i][/b] Twelve female dancers clad in costumed maid outfits are positioned on the entrance stage, six on each side of the door. The house lights morph from a sea green, to a darkened [color=#E56717][b]orange[/b][/color]. The remarkably attractive dancers begin writhing their bodies to the bumping testament of Sean Paul's [i]Temperature[/i]. The doors pull apart, showcasing teen idols, Marvin and Melvin Nerdly! This appearance of the alluring hunks scores a chorus of ear splitting screams from every woman in attendance! Cheers echo around the Sk8er Boiz, as they rhythmically bump n grind with the bevy of scantily clad dancers. BUFFER The following contest is for one fall and it is a fatal four way match! Introducing first from Laguna Beach, California VIA Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, they are former tag team champions, and [i]Teen People's[/i] sexiest tag team .....The Marv, Hell Mel.......THE SK8ER BOIIIIZZZZZZZZ! COLE You heard what Buffer said, we have a four way tag match on tap for you tonight! The Sk8r Boiz went to Axel and demanded a match with Christian Wright and Bohemoth after what they did to Krista and Alix last week. But while the Boiz were in the office Mackenzie DeCenzo of NRG and the Lone Star Gunslingers busted in and began to complain about a lack of opportunities in the fed. Thus Axel decided to satisfy all their desires by making this four way match. The Boiz can get their hands on Wright and Bo and NRG and The Gunslingers have a chance to shine. COACH Here's a burning question, where was Leon Rodez when his old enemies Wright and Bohemoth were trying to lop his girl's hair off? Huh? Like I've always said, that kid is a chump. A wave of shrieking girls gives the OAOAST's understaffed security force quite the workout, as they press up against the steel guardrail, each praying that they might be the one who can get their hands on the tanned skin of these beautiful Adonises. Mel, attired in dangerously low rise destroyed white jeans, strolls down the left side of the ramp, whipping the women into a frenzy with cute winks and sexy smiles. Dressed in similar pants, and a Mink fur coat, Marv cockily struts down the right side. He gingerly teases and taunts his worshiping fans, by opening his coat to reveal a hint of his glistening washboard abs, only to cruelly slam it shut the moment the girls go wild for the peek afforded them. Interesting, a cute woman with short blond hair, in worn out jeans and even more worn out Grateful Dead t-shirt, gingerly sits herself down at sofa central. The Boiz nod to their previously unnoticed valet, making her presence one that draws the curiosity of the fans. COLE Uh, excuse me, miss... COACH Shut up, Cole! There's a hot chick sitting next to me and I'm finally gonna score! Kick ass! COLE Please ignore him. He lives a lonely life. If you don't mind me asking, who are you? WOMAN Oh, I'm sorry. I'm new to this televised wrestling deal. Name's Melody Nerdly. COACH Ch-ch-check out my Melody indeed! Dayum! COLE Johnathan, don't make Caboose get out his bat. You're related to the twins? MELODY NERDLY Bingo, gringo. Nothing gets past you, I see. I'm their sister. Three years older and hundreds of years wiser. Check it out. I'm psychic. The next question on your mind is what is this strange Canadian doing out here? Am I right? You shouldn't call people strange. It's not nice. But I've come to the OAOAST to make sure my baby brothers aren't getting into trouble. I've gotta do my duty as a big sister and watch out for these guys. Plus these events are catered. That is too awesome. Food galore. With no mold. This gig sure beats sleeping on my pot-head ex-boyfriend's couch and eating six week old fudge brownies for breakfast, lunch and dinner. CABOOSE If you don't mind me saying, you look very normal for a Nerdly. I heard that with the exception of the new Marv and Mel, they were all.. MELODY Dorks? Geeks? Nerds? Lames? Squares? All true. I got kicked out when I was seventeen. Lucky me or else I'd be at home popping the popcorn for the Nerdly's family weekly Futurama marathon. The arena becomes cloaked in an unending darkness, save for one ominous spotlight resting on the entrance stage. The anthemic sounds that characterize the intro of [i]Slither[/i] come ripping through the speakers, pumping the entire venue full of adrenaline. Boo's come seeping down from every corner of the stadium as the doors pull apart to reveal the team of Christian Wright and Bohemoth! Wright stops underneath the harsh glare of the spotlight, letting the enormity of the spectators hatred and loathing bath him in a raging sea of negativity. When the song kicks up it's frantic tempo, he flips the hood of his robe backwards, showcasing his snarling visage to the world he despises so much. Bo, with black shorts with a green b on each side, stands next to him twitching his muscles, ready for action. BUFFER Introducing the second team...first from Raleigh, North Carolina, weighing in at two hundred and thirty three pounds he is the 2005 OAOAST rookie of the year...CHRIISSTIIIAAAAAAN WRIIIIIGHTTTT! And his partner from Greenville, South Carolina, weighing in at two hundred and eighty four pounds.....BOOHEMOOOOOOTH! Wright throws his robe off entirely, leaving him cloaked in baggy blue cargo pants with a crucifix motif strolling down the left leg. He sinks down to his knees, and stares up to the heavens above as his song continues to turmoil throughout the venue. Bo merely cracks his knuckles, an intimidating sight on it's own. MELODY Christian Wright? A guy named after a religion has to have some serious issues. But who am I to talk? My last name is Nerdly and my first name is a musical element. 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 group of jeers and taunts to the arena air. The black entrance doors marked by the OAOAST logo strewn across the front rip apart, and give birth to a massive litter of catcalls from the audience who are none too pleased to see [b]NRG[/b]. Biff Atlas, sporting a black cowboy hat , and crimson trunks, enters first, sneering at the disrespecting crowd. Mackenzie DeCenzo, showing off her splendid figure in hip hugging mini skirt and a two sizes to small yellow tank top, emerges next, snobbishly holding her head high. Finally Flex Phillips, leader of this ragtag bunch, saunters out, wearing bold yellow tights with the letters NRG etched across the back. The trio join hands and foist their arms into the air as a series of [color=#43C6DB][b]blue[/b][/color] pyro missiles explode around them and the crowd's disgust reaches it's greatest height. BUFFER Now making their way to the ring, accompanied by Mackenzie DeCenzo, first from Venice Beach, California, weighing in at two hundred and fifty seven pounds, he is the crown prince of hair care, BIFF “SHAMPOOOOO” ATLASSSS! And his partner from Fort Lauderdale, Florida, he has the body of a Mr.Olympia, and the mind of an Oxford scholar, weighing in at two hundred and ninety five pounds, he is FLEX PHILLLIPSSSSS! Together they are...Nutritions Real Gurus......N..R....GEEEEEEEEEEEE! COLE NRG still looking for their first victory here in the OAOAST. I don't know about Biff and Flex, but the futility happens to be driving Mackenzie mad. And as well all know NRG has had their issues in the past with the Sk8er Boiz. Melvin and Marvin knocked them out of the first round in the Anderson Cup. MELODY NRG protein shakes cause cancer. COACH Really? MELODY No I made that up. The trio struts down to squared circle, certain that tonight will be the night they have their hands raised in victory for the first time here in the OAOAST. Biff tentatively gets into the ring, unwilling to take his eyes off his current foes. Flex is more vociferous, announcing his arrival to his competition, informing them that they have no chance against his dominating skills. Mackenize situates herself outside, ignoring the hooting and hollering from the horny drunks in the front row. The stirring sounds of Ennio Morricone's [i]The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly[/i] enter the attentive ears of the viewing audience. As the imaginative instrumentation beats it's steady war cry, the entrance doors open to reveal rookie sensations, The Lonestar Gunslingers. Outfitted in matching white trunks with burnt orange kneepads, the duo walks to the ring with little in the way of preamble or showmanship. Only Baron seems to stand out, with his off white jacket with the state of Texas delicately embroidered on the back. Jock carries a lasso, while Baron clings to a branding iron. I'm not so sure I wanna know what they plan on doing with those two items! BUFFER Now making their way to the ring from the Lone Star state, Jock Mulligan, Baron Windels...THE LONE STAR GUNSLINGERS! Buffer's announcement is exclamated by a fine pop from those women who like their men to come on the wild side. The hunky roughriders hit the ring, where the rest of their testy competitors await. CABOOSE These two are all business in the way they operate. And they've already picked up upset victories in the Anderson Cup over Black T as well as Christian Wright and Bohemoth. I'm sure Wright and Bo have not forgot about that. Elderly referee Clem Buzzlefoxer scurries about the ring as fast as decrepit old legs will carry him, trying to create some semblance of order so that the match may get underway. However the eight warriors seem more inclined to engage in macho posturing then an athletic competition. Marv and Christian stand nose to nose, fuming furiously, each hitting the other with a plethora of vulgarities. Bo and Melvin do the same, Mel's fist cocked, just waiting for Bo to give him a good reason to knock his lights out. NRG and The Gunslingers have their own verbal spat, Flex very animated, dancing across the squared circle like a hyena on speed, begging someone to take a swing at him. Biff seems to be the calmest of a hot headed group, and ushers his hyperactive ally out the ring. The Gunslingers leave as well, never taking their eyes off Flex who's cussing like my mom did when my sister told her she was a lesbian. Melvin and Marvin peel out of the ring, figuring they're chance to deal with CW and Bo will come soon enough. Wright exits simply because he doesn't feel like do any actual work. That leaves Bo to start the contest with fellow big man Flex. The bell is rung and we are finally underway. DING DING DING The fans murmur with anticipation for what should be an epic showdown between these walking giants. Flex stretches his impressive muscles as he sizes up Bohemoth with a disregarding sneer. He casually steps forward for a common lockup, but Bo will have none of that basic hold and plants a boot into Phillips' midsection. The native of Fort Lauderdale doubles over in pain, leaving his dome wide open to a solid left hook from Bohemoth. The shot dizzies Biff and makes him easy pickings for an Irish Whip. As Flex bounces off he collects his bearings quick enough to effort a lariat Bo's way. However Bo ducks underneath it, and the cameras pickup a whoosh sound as a result of Flex's miss. Put off balance by his “swing and a miss”, Flex clumsily turns around where the Meterosexual monster awaits with a knife edge chop. That one single attack gives birth to a huge welt on Flex's coffee colored skin. Flex winces in understandable agony, leading Bo to gleefully decide to dump a little salt onto his wounds. He stretches out to his full six feet eight inches and flexes [b]DA MOTHER FUCKING GUNZ, YOU PUNK ASS BITCHES[/b], taunting the former body building great. Those fans who aren't turned on by “bears” boo Bo's bit of showboating. “BO SUCKS! BO SUCKS!” Bo's innocent non verbal insult has Flex seeing red. With hatred that's hotter then Kate Beckinsale in a bikini, Flex horsewhips Bo with the most vile chop he can muster! SMAAACK! The damage of the move is severe, ripping away at Bohemoth's tanned skin, leaving droplets of blood in it's place and pushing the monster back several inches. Sporting an arrogant grin, Phillips saunters towards Bo, getting right in his face so that the Upstart can have a madness inducing look at his [b]MOTHER FUCKING GUNZ, YOU BITCH MADE ASS FAGGOTS[/b]! “OOOOOOH” goes the crowd, responding to the homoerotic game of oneupsmanship. Mackenize on the other hand is more concerned with the game of Tetris on her cellphone then what's going on the ring. Bo reacts as if Flex just kicked his dog, putting a crazed look of indignation on his face, and frothing at the mouth. He stabs Phillips in the stomach with a terrific side kick, then grabs hold of his wrists so that he can hurl him to the ropes. But Flex has enough wrestling know how to shift his weight and reverse the simple move. Bohemoth hits the ropes, unsure of what to do on his return. Problematically Flex isn't nearly as indecisive. He ducks, takes hold of Bo's tree trunk sized leg, then hurls him straight into the air, only to jerk him back down to the canvas with a flap jack! Unable to properly prepare for the move, Bo takes a cringe worthy nose first landing, that has the crowd shuddering and the Boiz laughing like drunkards. As his horrible collision replays in a tiny box at the lower left corner of the screen, Bothemoth clutches his nose, checking to see if the damned thing isn't broken. COLE So, are all of your real last names Nerdly? MELODY Unfortunately. We had such a terrible time of it! Our poor eldest brother Maurice was constantly being given wedgies, stink eyes, having his underwear hung on the flag poles. CABOOSE Kids can be so cruel. MELODY Kids? This was happening when he worked for Microsoft! Flex takes a hold of Bo's arm, and pulls him upright, making sure to soften him up with back elbows as he does so. He attempts an irish whip to the Slingers' corner, but the sizable strength of Bo overpowers him into a reversal. Flex slams into the corner, but takes the brunt of the impact with his booty, meaning he's not quite as injured as Bo, who's bulling towards him with a body splash, would like to believe. The Upstart soon finds out that his foe is as right as rain when Flex drops down and disrupts his charge with a drop toe hold. Bohemoth, again unable to prepare a defense, has an unprotected face first meeting with the pads. This grotesque attack has a terrible aftermatch on his nose, which now looks about as normal and healthy as a dead skunk on the side of a Missouri road. While Buzzlefoxer inquires about Bo's less then optimal health, Flex tags in the cowboy stud muffin, Jock Mulligan. COLE From their previous outings it looks like The Gunslingers have a bright future here in the OAOAST. But if that doesn't work out they sure have a bright future in my bedroom! Ride me, cowboy! MELODY WTF? Jock agilely leaps over the ropes, ready to finally make a name for his tag team here in the OAOAST. But Bo, who's temper has reached the point of no return, thinks Jock's name would look better on a tombstone as opposed to a marquee. Thus he lights the Texan up with a succession of knife edge chops, each one drawing the requisite whoo's from the audience. The fifth and final chop lands with such amazing ferocity that it knocks Mulligan flat on his back, and has the heartthrob seeing swirling stars above his head. Thanks to his rival's prone state, Bo is allowed to make an unhindered tag to the permanently unhinged, Biff “Shampoo” Atlas. COLE How has the rest of your family taken Marvin and Melvin's sudden change of personality? MELODY Not too well actually. A whole bunch of forgetting where you came from, thinking you're too good for your roots, the usual coming of age, breaking the mold bullshit. The annual Nerdly family Yu-Gi-Oh tournament sure wasn't as lively without Mel and Marv around. Biff's arrival into the match is greeted with the sound of half the audience leaving to go to the concession stands. Atlas is promptly seized upon by a now recovered Mulligan. Jock dazes the Venice Beach native with a series of stinging jabs to the cheek, then puts his dizzied foe on the run with an Irish whip. The cables bounce Biff back, and he has a lariat waiting with Jock's name on it. But all the planning in his head is for naught, as Jock simply lowers his lanky body and slices Biff like a pizza cutter with a beautiful standing spear! Upon plummeting to the mat Atlas instantly curls up into a ball, nursing his badly wounded midsection, and pleading for Mackenzie to come rescue him. A highly annoyed Mackie screams out a wealth of instructions, none of which translate into Biff doing anything more then sucking his thumb and crying like an unwashed baby. MELDOY I get it. He's doing a Linus from Peanuts gimmick. Linus always sucked his thumb and had that blanket. But Biff's only crying not because he's hurt, but because he doesn't have his blanket. Still smarting from that unexpected spear, a crying Biff stands up, his lack of equilibrium stumbling him backwards. Jock stalks him to the edge of the ring and catches him with an Irish whip that sends him to the other side of the battleground near the Sk8er Boiz corner. Biff never thought he'd think this, but he thanks god for the Nerdly twins' presence, as they give him an easy way out of the match. He slaps Marvin across the face, a rather rude tag, then hauls ass out of the ring as fast as humanely possible. The front row fans give him an earful for his blatant display of cowardice. He responds by brazenly threatening to “smoke all yer asses”. But when a fan, an eight year old girl in a Tony Brannigan basketball jersey, takes him up on his offer he cowers in legitimate fear that is both laughable and depressing at the same time. Elsewhere Mackie is tearing her hair out due to the frustration these idiots she's been forced to manage are causing her. MELODY Hey, you boys wanna hear a joke? CABOOSE Sure! MELODY So do I. (awkward silence) That's the joke, that there is no joke! Hhahahaahha! Funny, eh. CABOOSE That joke was terrible. If you change your name to something that starts with a C you'll fit right in here. Back in the ring, Marvin's entrance into the battle evokes a breathtaking amount of cheers from the rabid teenage girls in the stands. The twin milks the pop for all it's worth, fluffing his long brown hair, making the blond highlights dance under the shimmering arena lights. Perhaps feeling a little jealous that Marvin has the hotties wrapped around his little finger, Jock dashes to him with a Stan Hansen worthy lariat. Unfortunately he doesn't have a Hansen worthy connection as the Boi ducks the attack. Yet the avoidance doesn't deter Mulligan. It merely makes him more determined to knock his enemy back into the ice age and he spins around with a discus punch. Unfortunately Marvin, with his cat like agility, draws first blood, nailing him with a majestic flipping dropkick. Mulligan hits the mat with a resounding thud, his head violently snapping off it like a basketball. But no one seems to be paying his aggravation much attention. Everyone's eyes are focused on Marvin, who's running his hands along his sexy abs, whipping the females (and a lot of the males) into an orgasmic ecstasy. “SK8 OR DIE! SK8 OR DIE!” Jock is on his feet, and is now simmering with hatred for the popular babyface. He leans into Nerdly with a straight left cross that Marvin takes in stride, firing off a right hook of his own in response. Unfazed by the punch, Jock returns fire with a forearm. The strike pushes Marv back several inches and leaves him stunned for a precious few seconds. But these few seconds are all Mulligan needs to snag Nerdly into a tightly held front facelock. He drops backwards and mashes the Sk8r's sexy face into the mat with a DDT. While his foe desperately tries to remember just what city he's in, Jock lays his arm across Marv's sculpted chest for the first pin of the contest. ONE Marvin kicks out and the volume of the arena rises as a result. Figuring that he can let someone else do the work and get a sneak pin later, Jock makes a tag to Christian Wright. The capacity crowd is nuclear with hatred and disgust for the nefarious villain But Wright simply stands on the apron with a conceited smirk, soaking up their venom. Unfortunately for him Marv is itching to score a measure of revenge for his friends in COD. So he makes a beeline to Wright, grabs a hold of the man's thick noir hair, and flings him over the ropes and into the squared circle. While Marv's actions has the blood lusting crowd rejoicing, they set Wright on the rampage. He pops up and pelts the mega hottie with a series of right crosses. Each punch gets a boo from the audience as it lands. Thankfully Marv is able to break up the lopsided slug fest by rifling a thudding knee into his foe's midsection. Holding his stomach with his left arm, Christian groggily stumbles from side to side, in dire need of a barf bag. Marv continues to feed his desire to crush the self-righteous grappler, and grabs his free arm into a half nelson. From there he leaps forward, awkwardly tugging Wright along with him, and smashing him face first into the ring floor with a half nelson face crusher! CW yelps in distress as a sharp pain spreads throughout his mangled face. MELODY Whoo! Way to go Marv! Just don't pin him. I have money riding on fancy man Wright and the jolly green giant. COLE You bet against your own brothers? MELODY They're Nerdlys! We're natural born losers. Supreme failure is our special talent. Marvin puts himself off the ropes, building up great a deal of speed as he races back towards his now standing rival. But Wright's reflexes are up to task of besting Nerdly and he easily catches Marvin upon his arrival in a front waistlock. In one smooth as a baby's behind motion, Wright bridges backwards and launches Marvin through the sky with a belly to belly suplex! SLAM! Marvin's landing is of the disgusting variety, his body shaking the ring to it's core upon impact. With the crowd shooting vulgarities his way, Christian makes them even angrier, showboating with a flashy pendulum elbow drop that hits perfectly on Marvin's rib area. A whimpering Marv is able to roll backwards, creating some distance between he and his adversary, allowing him to slowly rise upright. But CW closes the gap between them with one graceful stride and begins landscaping his chin with stiff forearms. Wright's intention seems to be to bust his meddlesome foe's handsome visage wide open. But when that proves to be more trouble then it's worth he dejectedly moves into a front facelock. From there he foists Nerdly into the sky for a vertical suplex, using the tried and true technique of delaying the move to let the blood rush to Marv's head. But perhaps the moral highground stalls a second too long as Marvin uses his substantial agility to shift himself back down to the mat. Now on his feet, he captures a stunned Wright into a front face lock of his own. “FOR KRISTA!” Marv screams, popping the sell out crowd, before he takes his adversary for a vomit inducing ride with a tornado DDT! [b]THUD![/b] The ghastly sound of Wright's head crunching into the canvas calls forth a spirited round of applause from the fans. CABOOSE Melody, your brothers have really taking a liking to Krista... MELODY So have I. Without her exercise videos and Cole's home waxing kit I never would've got a prom date. Wright staggers upright, mumbling obscenities under his breath. His mood is made even worse when Marvin grabs his wrist and attempts to whip him into the Nerdly corner. But the snobbish grappler reverses it and sends Marv into the turnbuckles instead. Utilizing a shoulder tackle, Wright rampages after him like a bull through the streets of Italy. But the hunky fighter simply ascends to the top rope, leaving CW's shoulder to be impaled onto the callous steel of the ringpost! An abhorrent clanking sound echoes throughout the arena, as a distressed Wright screams bloody murder at the top of his lungs. MELODY Jeez Louise, now I know why the bookie laughed at me when I told him I wanted to bet on pro wrestling. What a goof. “YOU FUCKED UP! YOU FUCKED UP!” chant fans to the 2005 OAOAST rookie of the year. Certain that his shoulder is separated, Wright woozily stumbles around, seeking a tag from anyone who will give it. NRG, The Gunslingers, Bo. He doesn't care, he just wants freedom from the grueling tormentor that is Marvin Nerdly. Marvin is less then sympathetic to CW's plight, and delights in watching him suffer the same affliction he caused Krista and Alix last week. He tries to add more misery to Christian's existence, running towards him and elevating onto his broad shoulders for a hurricanrana. Despite the substantial hurt in his left shoulder, Wright has the strength to catapult the Laguna Beach native backwards. CW's hope is that Marvin will endure a hellish crash with the ringposts. But to his chagrin no such fate befalls the Boi and he lands expertly on the highest pad. To make the situation even more troubling for the 24 year old Wright, Marvin comes ripping back at him with a top rope clothesline! The bomb hits it's mark with faultless accuracy, pushing poor CW to the canvas [i]and[/i] to the brink of insanity. While Wright to grouses about his misfortune, Marvin tags in his twin brother Melvin. COLE We see Melvin coming in, ready to get him some of Christian Wright. I'm sure he wouldn't mind getting his hands on Bo either. The ladies are tickled pink to see Melvin enter the fray. And he doesn't dare disappoint his adoring fanbase, rifling himself into the action with a springboard dropkick! The blow connects solidly with Wright's nose, crumbling him to the mat and drawing forth thick rivets of blood from his nostrils. Mel kips up and arrogantly bows to the clapping fans, while Bo reaches over the ropes senselessly attempting to [i]strangle[/i] him. Despite his poor state of health, Wright manages to will himself to his feet where he meets Melvin with three flailing right jabs. The super hottie returns fire with his own round of jabs and soon the two are locked into a full on slugfest. As no one will ever confuse Mel for Riddick Bowe, it isn't long before CW assumes the upper hand in their war. And a clonking elbow smash to the temple garners a victory for Wright. His prize is being allowed to snag his wobbly rival into a front facelock. Knowing full well how slippery these Nerdlys can be, Wright plants Melvin into the mat with a no nonsense snap suplex and immediately floats over for a pinfall. ONE TWO Melvin kicks out right as the ref's hand hits two, generating quite the cheer of approval from the audience. After failing to get the three count on that last pinfall attempt, an exasperated Wright stands upright before his opponent has an opportunity to collect his bearings. Upon measuring Mel and zeroing in on the perfect target to hit, Wright leaps into the air and extends his knee out, dropping it onto the neck of Melvin as he lands! The twin painfully howls into the night sky, leading the worried spectators to clap their hands in unison to rally the babyface. However, Wright is back on his feet and itching to inflict more damage to the Sk8r. He backs into the ropes, and bounces off, once again jumping as he nears Melvin's weakened body. This time he extends his leg out fully and sadistically smashes it across the neck of Nerdly. Melvin clutches his neck in response to the leg drop, convulsing violently on the sweat stained mat. The short lived clapping goes extinct as the fans have lost hope that Melvin can comeback against the OAOAST's moral superior. Fortunately Nerdly will no longer have to deal with the calculating Wright, as [b]Baron Windells[/b] has tagged himself in, albeit not without protest from CW. The attractive cowboy tells a complaining Wright to “hit the road”, unwilling to listen to the Upstart's grievance. CABOOSE The Cowboy Heartthrob Baron Windels, out of Texas, stands six feet seven and is a rock solid two hundred sixty five pounds. He has the look of a future maineventer. Let's see if he has the skills. Melvin stands up, erroneously thinking his beef is still with Christian. So he's more then a little surprised to have this six foot seven rough neck towering above him. Baron takes advantage of his moments shock and shoots him off into the ropes nearest Bohmoeth. Never one to pass up a chance to harm a despised rival, The Meterosexual Monster clubs Melvin on the back with a heat drawing forearm. Knocked tipsy, Melvin staggers forward like a town drunk and leaves himself open to a gorgeous flipping dropkick from his blue collar enemy! Melvin skids down to the mat, and the speedy Baron is right on him with a lateral press. ONE TWO Biff Atlas breaks up the pinfall with a stomp to the nape of Baron's neck. Obviously this greatly displeases the twenty-six year old cowboy, and he directs a nasty glare Biff's way. Struck with fear by that one dirty look, Biff frantically dives through the orange ropes and outside the ring. As the crowd mocks him for his utter lack of bravery and Mackenzie contemplates the virtues of homicide, he curls up into a tiny ball, furiously praying to the good lord above that the mean man won't come and lay a beating on him. MELODY If this guy can be a wrestler then I can to. I mean I can throw weak punches and crap myself in fear after I see that they have no affect on my much larger and fiercer opponent. Heck, that's a Nerdly family talent that's been passed on through generations of sissies, geeks, girly men, and Nancy boys. Back in the ring with the comparatively normal wrestlers, Baron shrugs off his qualms about the pin and rises to a vertical base. Melvin is soon to follow but gets forearmed in the chest as a result of his tardiness. His eyes water and his breath becomes short when another torrid blow lands on his chest. He totters from side to side, unable to mount a defense against Baron's vivacious brawling assault. Feeling his rival sufficiently weakened, Windels sweeps behind him and hooks him into a back suplex set-up. He hoists him into the sky, lifting him so high you'd swear he could touch the scoreboard. However at the climax of the hold, Melvin deftly slips out of it, landing perfectly on his feet. Baron, unsure of what just happened, spins around only to get flung halfway across the ring with an arm drag! “MEL IS SWELL! MEL IS SWELL!” sings the audience. MELODY Thank you. Thank you. I love you to. COACH I think they're talking about your brother. Although ol Coach has got something that's swelling right here. The arm drag actually does more harm then good for Melvin, as it outright infuriates his enemy. Baron stands up and roars back to the Nerdly twin, obliterating him with what might be the fiercest clothesline of the match. As a result Melvin folds up like origami, the life and color all but drained from his face. Windells makes a cover, pressing his forearm into Nerdly's neck to give himself a bit of an advantage. ONE TWO The pin is ended prematurely by a swift boot to back of Baron's shaved head from Flex Phillips. Incensed, Baron's head goes on a swivel, trying to spot the fool who cost him this bout. His query is answered by Flex's vulgarity filled challenges to fight. Unlike his crazy Biff, Flex seems to realize wrestling isn't just about wearing globs of baby oil and tiny little tights that show off your massive wang, it's also about fighting. However Baron refuses to be distracted by Phillips' invitation for a brawl, preferring to keep his focus on winning this bout. He zooms to the ropes nearest Bo and Wright in hopes of rebounding to hit Melvin with an elbow drop. But this plan is thwarted when Big Bo levels him his meaty forearm. Baron reacts as if he just had a piano dropped on his head, sagging to the mat and hollering in unbridled pain. Buzzlefoxer considers the cheap shot to count as a tag and orders Bohemoth into the ring. Bo is more then happy oblige the request, eager to do more damage to the Nerdly twin. COACH My man! Finally getting back into the thick of things! Bo scoops Melvin up, and after delivering two vile punches to the midsection he whips him to the ropes. Unlike the previous trips to the cables, Mel's journey is uninterrupted and he freely returns to a waiting knee to the stomach from the Upstart. He's taken head over heels, and suffers a cringe worthy neck first landing that has more then a few teenage girls in tears. Bo prepares to really crank up the adolescent water works, as he lifts Melvin up and places him into a standing head scissors. He crosses his arms under his beefy chest and then lifts him up so that he hangs horizontal to the mat. With the fans steady in their stream of hatred for him, Bo sits out and drops her back first to the mat, utilizing the deadly pyramid driver! CABOOSE I don't think I've ever seen Bohemoth use such a move before! While the searing pain spreads throughout Mel's body, Bo hooks the outside leg for a pin. ONE TWO Melvin kicks out, bringing forth cheers from the capacity crowd! Bohemoth is relentless, however, and once again takes hold of the outside leg for a pin.... ONE TWO His pinfall effort is kiboshed by an elbow drop from Jock Mulligan! Jock, remembering what Bo did to his partner just seconds ago, proceeds to downpour spite filled punches on the beast's noggin. It only takes a few seconds before Bo adapts to the attack, and he nonchalantly pitches Mulligan away. But the smoldering Jock is undiscouraged, and reattempts to gain revenge for his unit! However Buzzlefoxer quickly steps between him, as much to preserve order as to preserve the rookie's health. COLE Tempers are starting to boil over here on OAOAST HeldDOWN. Folks, let me remind you that Anglemania is just weeks away. And with your purchase you can get a [b]free[/b] Krista Isadora Duncan bobble head doll. Thank you for that shill, Mikey! Back in the ring, Bohemoth makes a tag to Christian Wright, the duo seemingly employing a crafty hit and run strategy. Wright smugly meanders into the warzone while the crowd stones him with catcalls and jeers. He dishes out a trifecta of stinging stomps to Mel's noggin, as he arrogantly stares out at the rabid audience. Finished with his stompings, he sinks to his stomach where he's able to easily trap Melvin into a grounded facelock. Melvin instantly feels the horrible affects of this elementary hold, a crippling constriction on his neck and a difficulty in breathing. Five seconds into the move, Buzzlefoxer starts to inquire as to whether Mel wishes to submit or not. Of course Wright, who's turned the move into a subtle chokehold, answers for him, telling the Jurassic zebra that his foe has indeed given up. Marvin, bouncing like a ping-pong ball on the apron, screams for Wright to keep his “trap shut”. COACH Fellas, being on the mat in a frontface lock is never a good place to be. But when it's the 2005 rookie of the year who's got you in that front facelock then it's an even worse place to be. Marvin leans over the cables, extending his arm as far as it can reach, desperate for a tag from his weary brother. The anxious audience takes up the cause of willing young Melvin to his corner, and chants of his name become their war cry. Elsewhere, Flex stalks across the apron, cussing and hollering like a coked out hobo, directing every insult is vulgar mind can think of at both Melvin and Christian. CABOOSE Just look at Phillips and the way he talks all that trash and garbage. He's a right cocky one, he is. In spite of the swell of support for his antagonist, Christian is able to quell any resistance, locking the plucky Sk8r down in the center of the ring. Salvation seems so far away for Melvin, as the entirety of his vision is engulfed by the baby oil and sweat drenched body of the former HI-YAH heavyweight champion. Wright squeezes on the hold as tight as the referee's overbearing rules will allow, making an act as simple as breathing a grueling effort for the Laguna Beach native. Knowing that his body can't stomach much more of this misery, Melvin takes up the arduous task of rising to his feet. Despite Wright's best efforts to keep him grounded, he's amazingly able to stand, renewing hope within him and the audience. Sensing that his hold is rapidly deteriorating, Wright switches the position of his left arm, using it to trap Melvin's shoulder. This means the Boi is faced with an uphill battle, now forced to fight back as a one armed man. Desperation and worry lining his face, Melvin tries to counter with a hail mary back drop. But Wright holds his ground, and effortlessly brings Mel back down to his level. He decides he's through with wasting his time with a submission hold, and would rather splatter Marvin's brain matter across the mat with his finisher [b]Converting the sinner[/b]. He roughly jerks him into the air, but at the very height of the move the agile wrestler shifts his body free and lands behind Christian! MELODY Whoo! I mean, wait I still have money riding on this....boooo! Enraged, Wright whirls around to decapitate Melvin with a stiff discus punch. But Nerdly is one step ahead of him, lashing his face with a crowd popping haymaker! As Wright stumbles backwards, wondering how he lost the advantage so quickly, Melvin speeds to the cables. Upon bouncing back he tries to scissor his legs around Wright's waist. While he encounters success in that effort, Wright is easily able to assume control of the exchange by gripping onto Mel's legs and flipping him out into a waistlock. He then tries his damnedest to launch Melvin into the stratosphere with a German Suplex! However the Boi beautifully back flips his way out of disaster! Wright can't believe the audacity of this youngster and is beside himself with rage. Guided by his anger and not his superior intellect, he blindly charges Melvin only to eat an enziguri for his folly! The crowd roars their approval for Melvin's deadly maneuver. MELODY You owe me thirty bucks you son of a bitch. Oh no, I just called my own mother a bitch. Wright's had more then his fill of wrestling for one night, and begins a tiresome crawl to make a tag. Instead of heading to his corner, he travels towards The Gunslingers, who appear eager to reenter the battle. Christian is as pleased as punch to grant their requests. Unfortunately they rescind their offer as quickly as they made it, hopping off the apron the second he nears. The spectators root on their sneaky tactic, but Wright is overcome by an extreme forlornness. With a his head held low he treks to the NRG corner and brings Flex Phillips back into the contest. Problematically for NRG's leader, Wright's escapades with the Slingers bought Melvin valuable seconds to head to his team's station. As such he thrusts the audience into a raucous frenzy when he applies a tag to The Marv! “YEAAAAAAAA!” Marv hits the ring, a 5'8 ball of skating and surfing fire! He plows through Phillips with a lariat, then takes out an incoming Wright with a superb spinning wheel kick! The fans are on their feet, boisterously cheering on the brazen gladiator. The Gunslingers are shown no mercy on Marvin's warpath, as he blasts them clear off the apron with wild left hooks. Finally the largest athlete in the OAOAST, Bohemoth, makes his presence felt once again., dashing towards the Nerdly twin with an axe handle smash! But this time Marvin is ready for him, and he crashes his charge to a halt with hate fueled boot to the stomach! Bo is left doubled over and dazed, and The Marv is quick to capitalize on his unenviable situation. He snares his much larger foe into a front ¾ facelock, then sits out, snapping Bo's head off his shoulder with his finisher [b]The G-Spot Jiggy[/b]! Bo timbers to the canvas like a redwood through a Northern California forest, holding his head and possibly needing a Tylenol. Marvin hooks Bo's leg for what everyone believes will be a match ending pinfall.... CROWD ONE CROWD TWO BROKEN UP BY A LEG DROP FROM JOCK MULLIGAN! Marvin stands up and directs quite the virulent glare at the meddling Texan. And Jock soon feels the full wrath of The Marv's venom as Marvin temporarily cripples him with a surprise basement dropkick. This capsizes Jock to his knees and makes him a sitting duck for Nerdly's next cataclysmic move. Marvin runs the ropes to build speed, and rushes back towards his foe. He presses his foot against his knee, using it as a launching pad. From there he takes to the skies and swipes the side of his boot along Jock's face! A grotesque mixture of blood and spit flies out of Jock mouth as he plummets back to mat, his night all but over. Marvin hasn't a second to celebrate the taming of the wild bronco as the vexatious Christian Wright has made his less then triumphant return to the ring. Wright stampedes towards Marvin, ready to decimate him with a shoulder block. Unfortunately he'll being doing no such thing tonight. Just as quickly as Wright reappeared, so does he exit as The Marv sidesteps his attack, grabs onto the back of his head and chucks him out of the squared circle! “WRIGHT SUCKS! WRIGHT SUCKS!” Marvin returns to the mission of slaying the beast known as Bohemoth. However he meets up with a cruel reversal of fortune as Bohemoth flat out demolishes him with a yakuza kick the exact second he turns around. As the crowd lustily boos his attack, Bo realizes he'll now have to deal with the ceaseless onslaught of victory hungry grapplers. His first challenge comes from a Baron Windells' crossbody block. Fortunately it's a challenge easily mastered for the Meterosexual Monster and he catches the six foot seven wrestler squarely in his arms. While Baron becomes wrought with understandable panic, Bo lifts him into a gorilla press position. The carnage thirsty observers holler with anticipation for what terrible fate Baron is about to meet. They certainly aren't let down in the least, as big Bo heaves Baron out of the ring so easily that it's as if the man weighed as much as a blue jay's feather. MELDOY (singing) Happy trails to you, until we meeeeeeet agaaaaain. COLE Baron is down! Holy lord! Similar to Baron, Flex lacks the requisite intelligence to think twice before crossing the beast from the southeast. Phillips launches a strong overhand left that connects with Bo's nose, initiating a flurry of punches from the nutrition guru. However this spurt of offense from Flex is abruptly terminated by right cross from Bo that cracks across his orbital socket. Now Phillips is put on the defensive as Bo applies a tight front waistlock. He bends his knees for leverage as he begins the makings of a belly to belly suplex. However he can't quite acquire a secure grip around Flex's body, thus he executes a standing switch, thinking he'll have more luck with a German Suplex. Phillips attempts to shatter the hold with a fierce elbow to Bo's skull, but the Upstart frees his rival before the move can even connect. He spins an out of kilter Phillips around and nearly drives him through the ring with an earth shaking spine buster! Flex's body is drained of any sort of life and looks broken beyond repair. The audience murmurs in shock at the destruction Bo's one move has imposed on his opponent. Feeling a swell of swaggering pride, Bohemoth rises, and joyously beats his fists against his mighty chest. “YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK!” On the outside Mackie slams her hands into the apron in utter disgust. She's at a loss to explain why her charges are such incompetent boobs so lacking in any noticeable talent or ability. Fortunately for her all is not lost! There is still hope alive for her squad. Unfortunately that hope comes in the form of a previously AWOL Biff Atlas. Biff, holding his finger to his mouth to shush the noisy fans, comically creeps up behind Bo. He moves at a speed of an inch an hour, not wanting to draw the giant's attention and subsequent pain that will result. Sadly he didn't move quietly enough because the monster whirls to face him, startling the daylights out of Atlas! Now besieged by a crippling sense of panic, Biff makes an outrageous effort to get Bohemoth to spare his life, offering money, protein drinks, cars, hand jobs, anything! But none of these gaudy offerings will sway The Upstart in his quest for flawless victory. Snarling, he drapes Biff's far arm across his, causing the hysterical and weeping bodybuilder to wet himself out of fright. While the crowd delights in Biff's misfortune, Bo takes him and his piss soaked tights for rollercoasteresque ride with his finisher [b]The Erotic Awakening of Bohemoth[/b]. “I WANT MY MOMYYYYY!” Biff screams as she spins through the air! [b]CRUNCH[/B]! That would be the awful sound of Atlas' bones being shattered against the rock solid mat. The laughable tears and the grisly look of worry are absent from Biff's face, now replaced by a blank stare as he succumbs to the bleak state of unconsciousness. CABOOSE Bohemoth making short work out of three very large men! Well, Biff is only five foot nine, so two large men and a large chicken. Melody, you may get your thirty dollars yet. One would think that everything is coming up roses in the land of Bohemoth. Bodies strewn across the ringside area, and no lethal opposition for miles. However the person who thinks that probably doesn't have Melvin Nerdly's fist jammed into their [b]testicles[/b] like Bo does. Bohemoth hollers out in anguish as he topples to his side, rendered unable to take advantage of the devastation he's brought. He watches helplessly, paralyzed by testicular torture, as Melvin reaps his reward by pinning Biff. Of course, neither Atlas nor Nerdly are the legal men but who the hell cares? Not Clem Buzzlefoxer because he counts the pin! CROWD ONE CROWD TWO CROWD THREE Buzzlefoxer calls for the bell, as the cheers for pinfall rise in force! Mackenzie, unable to believe what she's just seen, storms up the ramp in a huff, muttering in language that is less then lady like. MELODY It's over! I'm out thirty bucks, but at least my brother's won. Who's this Bohemoth guy anyway? I bet money on a clown who can't stand a love tap on the nuts? What's up? BUFFER The winnners.....THE SK8R BOIZ! COLE Again not the best performance by Bohemoth. The big man has struggled lately and I can bet Axel won't be happy to see him fail once again. The audience's good feelings are short lived, and bad vibrations quickly settle in due to Christian Wright reentering the ring. Taking umbrage both to the way the Boiz won this match and their actions from last week, Wright gets in the face of a celebrating Melvin. The two engage in a heated debate, screaming over the noise of the rowdy fans. Not surprisingly Wright manages to claim victory in this little argument. But not through his vast intellect. Rather he scores a win from a devious sucker punch. Melvin recoils for a second, then springs back with a punch of his own. Now their verbal spat has turned into outright physical warfare! But Melvin is soon overwhelmed when Bohemoth inserts himself into the fracas. Irate over the underhanded low blow, The Upstart's heavy hitter punishes his victim with a devastating spine buster! MELODY What the hell? Leave my brother alone! The spectators are livid, and understandably so! Marvin makes a valiant effort to rescue his sibling, actually managing to tackle Wright with a spear! As the fans root him on, he rains punch after punch on Wright's face. The only thing the moral highground can do to defend himself, is cover up until Bohemoth yanks the energetic Sk8r off him. Taking a clump of Marv's hair, Bo readies to unleash his second Erotic Awakening of the night. But a gargantuan pop erupts from the stands as the fans spot [b]Chicks Over Dicks[/b], lacrosse sticks in tow (and a bottle of Jack Daniels in Kris' hand), darting down the ramp! COLE Here comes Alix and Krista! COACH Look at them bounce! I mean look at them run! Choosing to avoid a conflict with weapon swinging madwomen, Bo and Christian duck out of the ring with their good health intact. They slowly back up the ramp way, trading ice cold stares with their rampageous archrivals. “C-O-D! C-O-D! C-O-D!” bleat the fans. Krista and Alix check on the injured twins, as Melody joins them in the ring. After making certain the Boiz are okay, the girls grab microphones. KRISTA (to Wright and Bo) Where ya running to, kiddos? Those boots are made for walking, so have 'em walk ya back to where the party is, right here in the ring! We've got boiz, we've got girls, we've got Jack, we've got cowboys who can double as strippers, we've got lassos, and we've got branding irons, I'm sure we've got drugs, because if you look at the way Biff Atlas acts, you can see he's like a McDonalds Extra Value meal, he comes with the coke. ALIX We've got everything you need to have a bitching time and attract the attention of various law enforcement agencies. Remember it's not a party unless your mug shot winds up on the smoking gun after it's over! So why don't ya come back so we can have some fun? Wright blows Alix off, dismissing her with a wave of his hand. ALIX Awww, someone get me a scooper because we've got party poopers! If ya don't wanna boogie-woogie till ya can't boogie-woogie no more, if ya don't wanna party like it's 1999, if ya don't wanna rock out with your cock out and hang out with your wang out, if ya don't wanna do a little dance, make a little love and get down tonight, then hows about we do a lil something else? Hows about we have a match? Wright scoffs at such a silly request. KRISTA Look, we're gonna have to finish this feud sooner or later. And from what the girls tell us... ALIX Finishing sooner seems to be Bo's M.O! Heck yes, a gnarly dis and a sick rhyme!Bad Boy, Baby, 2006, please believe it! So what do ya say, Quick Draw McGraw? Oui ou non? Do we have a match, funky monkeys? The audience pops for the potential match, and even Bohemoth seems willing to throw down. However Wright errs on the better side of caution, refusing to accept their challenge. KRISTA Maybe someone forget to text message me the info, but I swear this must be “gender role reversal week”. Because even though we're the women, you're the ones acting like bitches. “OOOOOOOOH” ALIX Seriously! Combined you both weigh a gazillion pounds more then us, Bo's nose alone is probably wider then my waistline and Christian's dandruff could equal Krista in body weight. But aside from using us as your final exam for barber college, you avoid us like Krista avoids a sobriety test! KRISTA Or like Alix avoids intelligent thought! We're not really getting it, Christian. If you're such eager beavers who want to prove how much better you are then us in all aspects of life, then instead of challenging Alix to debates that make [i]Larry the Cable Guy[/i] look like highbrow Moliere comedy in comparison, or trying to make us part of your audition for the day shift at SuperCuts, why don't you get into the ring and show us how much better you really are? Unless you're a little scared of us. It's funny, when you can sneak attack us and try to torture us with sharp objects, you're the OAOAST's Moral Highground and The Meterosexual Monster, and you won't let any bimbos like us go unpunished. But when we come to meet you face to face, ready for a fight, you turn into Courage the Cowardly dog and the Lion from Wizard of Oz. As an old Buddhist saying states, there is no such thing as good energy or bad energy, it's only how you perceive it. And right now Alix, I, and eighteen thousand of our closest friends perceive you two to be the biggest pussies on earth! [b]“YEAAAAAAA”[/b] screams the crowd while Krista downs a swig of her liquor. ALIX We tried and tried to think of other ways to get revenge on ya'll, but everything we came up with would've wound us up on [i]Celebrity Justice[/i] and in the county blues. So in return for sparing you both a well deserved trip to the city morgue we're asking for a match! Just one teeny tiny little itty bitty match! It doesn't even have to be in an OAOAST ring, it can be at a hair salon, it can be in a parking lot, it can be at Rite Aid, it can be at my mama's trailer, just not around the hours of two-three o'clock because that's when the pool boy comes over and she wants everyone out so he can get to work. Which is odd because she doesn't even have a pool. Weird! We can even have any stipulation ya want! Cage match, ladder match, lumberjack match, lumberjill match, lumber-we-dont-discriminate-against-people-based-on-their-prescribed-gender-roles -thus-are-offering-everyone-an-equal-chance-to-be-a-lumberperson match. We can have a barbwire match, blindfold match, Judy Bagwell on a pole match which happens to be greatest invention since fat free edible panties, an inferno match, a scaffold match, a bra match, but [i]not[/i] a bra and panties match because I ate Krissy's panties only to find that not only are they not of the fat free variety, they aren't of the edible variety either! We can have a tables match, a taped fist match, or an empty arena match, in other words we can wrestle after GPX goes on, because those boys clear out the arena like someone called in an anthrax scare. We can have a Chamber Horrors match, an arm wrestling match, a strap match, a strap-on match, just stay away from Krissy, she goes into full-on crazy amazon queen with the hair pulling and drunken grunting, and the tiara and leoprard print face paint and the sharp spear she pokes your wabbit tail with. Anyway whatever stip ya want, you can have! Just call us Barbra Eden, because your wish is these genies' command. As long as it has the word match in it, we are down like Homey the clown. So just give us a freaking match! Pretty please with eighty billion chocolate covered cherries on top! Again Wright is non committal, smirking at Alix's pleading. KRISTA Fine. Okay. Enough of the jokes, enough of the begging. Let me put down Ol Number 7 and let me get serious with you kids. Alix was being sweet, but now Krista's taken over and now the mood's all changed. After what happened last week, I now know that you two are excremental excuses for human beings who's skin would be better used as an overcoat to keep those who actually deserve to live warm during the winter. Understand this, we're gonna find you, we're gonna getcha. We're gonna come to whatever section 8 housing project you sorry asses waste oxygen in and we're gonna drag your rotten carcasses out into the street in the middle of the night and we're gonna tear into you like two dogs caged. And you might not like it if we have to pay you a visit. You might get your door kicked in. You might get your kid napped. You might get your legs broke. You might get your neck snapped. You might get your skull cracked. And you might take your last ride in an ambulance, and you might not make it to see the other side of thirty. With that warning on their minds, Wright and Bo make their retreat, as COD's music plays over the thunderous roar of the crowd. The Sk8rs and Melody converse with the girls, while the other participants in that less then stellar four way match clear out.

God damn it I had an intelligent response to Tony and lost it. Short and stupid version, the 24/7 belt as it's name implies was supposed to be defended 24/7. That's it gimmick. The champion should be in danger of losing it at any time. Theoritically that should make for some interesting and spontaneous matches the other belts can't offer. However somewhere along the line we got away from the spirit of belt to the point where it's name doesn't even make sense. However I'm sure the wackiness of the title may one day return! Popick, would you just fight Parka at AM for the title?

Holla at ya folk, family. I promise you a Christian Wright/Bohemoth Vs The Lonestar Gunslingers Vs NRG Vs The Sk8er Boiz match. I also promise you that it will be way late, young bloods.

Yeah, that does kinda suck! Hope you heal quick, dude.

I'm prettttttttty sure he's referring to his skit where Leon goes digging for weapons, as opposed to your promo. He just got the placement of his skit mixed up, hence your confusion. I think!

Hello A golden wall of pyro encases the entire stage, as three blue spotlights dance across the arena in an uncontrolled manner. Soon the lights join each other at the top of the ramp, as [i]California Dreaming[/i] plays over the speakers. The pyro evaporates as quickly as it appeared, and it's place stands Krista Isadora Duncan, outfitted in faded jeans and a black tank top. She garners a gargantuan pop from the Tennessee fans, possibly because she's the only ten I see. LOL, Patty! COLE Krista wasn't at the arena last week for the debate. But it's not like she needed to be, as Alix and Snoop Dogg were amazingly able to handle Wright's shenanigans. But I know Krista has something to say about Christian's opinions on her. Kris enters the ring, picking up a microphone as she heads to the center. She waits for the chants of the audience to die out before continuing. KRISTA Christian Wright, my amigo, my padre, my ami, my friend. Contrary to what the drunken threats of a brutal stabbing and drive by shootings that I left on your answering machine may say, I'd like to call you a companion! And by companion I mean “guy I hope gets mauled to death by a grizzly bear like Timothy Treadwell in the movie [i]Grizzly Man[/i]. The New Kids on the block once posed the question “What's in the middle?” and answered that thought provoking query with “The right stuff.” Today I ask the question of what's in the middle of Wright's stuff, and the answer is soon to be a shiny pink aluminum baseball bat courtesy of one Krista Isadora Duncan! Chris, last week during your little debate in which you got rocked like a hurricane by Alix and Long Beach's answer to Puff the magic dragon, you sir crossed the line. In fact you crossed so many lines that they kept having to lay down new lines for to you cross. But when you stepped over the last line you came face to face with the baddest bitch in the OAOAST. And she is I and I am she and I'd hate to burst your bubble but you're in some serious trouble. The onlookers loudly cheer her claim. KRISTA I was reading the [i]New York Times[/i] and saw that Sharon Stone, a good friend of mine, recently said that she'd give everyone in the Middle East a kiss if they would end all the wars and have peace in the region. Sharon, just like when you starred in [i]Catwoman[/i], you're wasting your time! You need to get down to the FedEx forum post haste to spread your message of peace, because we've got one crazy war in the Honky Tonk between myself and Christian Wright! Christian, you better come with a bazooka strapped to your back and the Hamas flanking your side, because I'll use every weapon my MasterCard can buy and my manicured hands can get a hold of. I'll use a chair, I'll use a chain, I'll use a belt, I'll use barbwire, I'll use my collection of Celine Dion CD's, I'll use tables, I'll use a guitar, I'll use a knife, I'll even use Coach's penis pump! COACH Hey! KRISTA Christian, I heard what you had to say about my sweet little daughter during that debate. All I can say in response is that I hope you got on your knees and thanked the deity of your choice that I wasn't in the arena with you then. Because if I had been in Saint Louis last week, you'd still be in traction [i]this[/i] week. You go after my daughter, and you go after my heart. You go after my heart and you go after my life. You go after my life and I take your's. Understand? If you don't, I can take you outside and I can make you understand. I can have you eating more concrete then a landscaping company lays in a year. Whats more is that you thought the whole debate would let you get one up on Alix. Honey, I'd hate it to break it to ya, but there ain't enough Viagra in the world to get anything of your's up. But maybe Coach will lend you his penis pump. The audience pops for that insult, while Coach scoffs in disgust. KRISTA But now only thing that's getting up is my [I]Guess?[/I] pumps through your ass. I'll stick ithem up so far, I'll have your breath smelling like foot locker water repellent. You thought you could pick on the poor girl because you happen to be smarter then her, not realizing that poor girl's got one mean mama backing her up. So the only thing you'll be picking up is your teeth off the floor. See, when you messed with Alix, you thought all you'd need was special guest moderator. But as the old saying goes; “when you mess with Alix, you mess with Krista.” And when you mess with Krista you don't need a special guest moderator, you need a special guest coroner. And to add delicious icing to our sweet cake, you cost me a tag title victory, and you stunnered an innocent woman all in the span of ten seconds. And just like the guy who popularized that move you used, you seem to think it's cool to hit girls. You think beating women is like Alix, a hot thing to do. But I think it's cool to beat you. I think it's the In thing to do. And just like the Mama's and the Papa's I'm in with the in crowd, I go where the in crowd goes. And where the in crowd wants to go is all up and down your sorry ass! In fact I wanna beat you right now, honey bunches of oats. I need to beat you right now! I'm on my hands and knees begging you to come on out so I can beat you! Christian Wright you've accomplished a miracle! For the first time since Regan was in office, I want a man's ass! I've never wanted to whup somebody as much as I do you! COACH I'm getting the feeling she should be careful what she wishes for. KRISTA Like Professor X hooked into Cerebro I know what you're thinking, Christian. You say “Krista, you devilishly sexy gal, you're thirty four? That must be a lie! You don't look a day over twenty five!” and I say “Thanks. But I'm still gonna beat you down”, and then you say “But you already beat me in October!” That was October, this is March! I wanna beat you tonight. And the next night. And the night after that. I want to beat you until there's nothing left of you but your fat monkey lips talking about doing something for somebody's own good. You should've done something for your own good and stayed home. You should've called in sick. You should've picked up the phone called Axel and said “Hey Kangaroo Jack, I won't be in the office today. I got smallpox!” “I thought they eradicated that disease, Christian.” “I said I got smallpox, Crocodile Dundee. God damn!” But now you're here and now I gotta hurt you. Everything you said last week about me was true, I'm loud, I'm trashy, I'm vulgar, I'm rude, and while I may be the kind of woman you want to screw, I'm not the kind of woman you want to screw [i]with[/i]. I know you're probably pretty scared right now, and you just dropped the kids off before you could make it to the pool. So why don't you change your pants, make like this is the [i]Price is Right[/i] and come on down so I can make like Bob Barker to Adam Sandler in [i]Happy Gilmore[/i], and knock your ass o-u-t. The price is wrong bitch. “KRISTA! KRISTA! KRISTA!” COLE Krista calling out Wright! Let's see if we get an answer! The crowd readies their vocal chords to assault Christian Wright with an ensemble of insults, but confusion quickly replaces their anger, as [i]Back in Black[/i] by AC MOTHER FUCKING DC cuts through the arena air. Instead of Mister Wright's relatively modest six feet and two inches appearing in the frame, we're treated to the intimidating six feet and seven inches of The Upstarts' heavy hitter, [b]Bohemoth[/b]! Outfitted in pleather black trunks with a golden barbwire design, Bo stands atop the entrance way, beating his fist into his beefy chest and emitting a fearsome growl! COLE Bohemoth recently found himself in Axel's dog house due to his inability to prevent Krista from making the count that won Zack Malibu his newest heavyweight title. He dug his hole even deeper when his botched rescue attempt let Alix and Big Snoop Dogg take care of Christian Wright. I have no idea what he's doing out here tonight. Ignoring the jeers that greet his unexpected appearance, a stern faced Bo walks himself up the steel steps and into the ring. As a typically defiant Krista eyes him with skepticism, he requests a microphone, and receives one. BOHEMOTH I don't believe we've been formerly introduced. I'm Bohemoth, and you're Krista Isadora Duncan. Charmed and charming. I hear what you're saying about the debate. It was bad incident for all of us. I can see how upset you've gotten over what Christian said. But those are just words and insults. Names can never hurt you. But Bohemoth can. Keep that in the back of your mind. COLE Threatening words. BOHEMOTH Let's talk action, such as the one Alix and Snoop Dogg took against one of the best wrestlers in this entire company! No, no, wait. Better yet let's talk Zero Hour! Remember that? Remember the final match on that star studded pay per view? I do. I remember it because it haunts me every where I go. The outcome of that main event invades every thought I have! That one match, that I didn't even wrestle in, is now starting to define who I am. My entire career is being mirrored back by one failure that was out of my control. And that is your fault! It's your's! If you had never bothered to interfere Christian Wright would still be HI-YAH heavyweight champion! And the Upstarts would hold both the OAOAST world title and the HI-YAH world title. That means we'd be in sole possession of two most important championships in the world. KRISTA You said that last sentence with a straight face. Wow. That takes talent. You should win an Emmy. If the 3 6 Mafia can get an Oscar, why can't a guy named Bohemoth get an Emmy? BOHEMOTH Let me cut to the point. When your misguided attempt to do a good deed brought you into Christian's match with Zack Malibu, it brought you in contact with me. That should've given you a hint to high tail your ass on back to your Staples Center dressing room ASAP. But instead you stuck around and you laid your hands on The Upstarts heavy hitter. That is the OAOAST's cardinal sin, and because you won't repent, you have to be punished. Nobody lays their hands on Big Bo. KRISTA Awww, that's sad. Have you tried taking out a personal ad? Perhaps you could use Adult Friend Finder? BOHEMOTH You think that's funny, eh? You can chuckle all you'd like, Jane Fonda. Go ahead and laugh it up. You got jokes? Have your jokes now, because I guarantee you you won't be chuckling when I tell you and I are going to have a match here tonight! COLE Wow! BOHEMOTH See, there won't be anything funny when the Meterosexual monster is aiming his guns directly at your pretty face. I'm a big man and your a little girl. It takes longer to cook instant rice then it would take for me to beat you. Heck, I may be in and out in a minute. Two minutes at the most. KRISTA Honey, you really shouldn't discuss your sexual inadequacies on television. Oh, you're talking about the match. Silly me. BOHEMOTH God damn it! Let me inform you of a harrowing fact, little girl. We're only in March. There are nine solid months remaining in the year 2006.... KRISTA I see you've finally got this tricky “month and year” concept down. Kudos to you. For your next task, let's see if you can remember to unzip when you stand at the urinal. BOHEMOTH(cont) And the year can be very long and very painful if you continue plant yourself on the wrong side of The Upstarts, most specifically myself and Christian. There are limitless tools at our disposal that we can use to humiliate you and degrade you. We can make you wish you never signed the dotted line on your contract. We'll have you regretting the very day you ever heard the acronym OAOAST. Both you and Alix. You may not be too concerned with your own safety, given that you didn't haul ass the minute I told you we're having a match. But I don't think that you'd want adorable Alix to get hurt. You do these instructional fitness videos, am I correct? Consider this contest between us an instructional match. Let it be a lesson learned to not interject yourself into affairs that do not concern you. And after my lesson concludes, and the message really sinks in, you need to pack up your bags, turn in a letter of resignation, go back to California and stick to helping middle aged Oprah fanatics get a slimmer waist line. But I hope the lesson I'm about to teach you is taken to heart. Because if it isn't, when we're done with you, we're coming for Alix. Seething with rage, Krista goes right across Bohemoth's cheek with a wild slap! The crowd raucously approves of her brash display! COLE A referee just slid into the ring, and it looks like we're underway on HeldDOWN! Krista Isadora Duncan against Bohemoth. The imprint of her hand on his cheek, the fuming beast launches a predatory missile in the form of a lariat at the femme fatale. However Krista sweeps underneath it, and carries herself to the ropes. Upon hitting the cables the elasticity bounces her back towards Bo with a running dropkick! Though the move connects solidly with his meaty pecs, the colossal unit is barley budged an inch. As she stands up and sees Bo standing as firm and unyielding as the staunchest of forts, her dismayed heart descends into her stomach. There's no doubt in anyone's mind that the brassy fighter has finally bitten off more then she can chew. What's worse is that the danger of the situation escalates to alarming levels when the OAOAST's moral high ground [b]Christian Wright[/b] finally makes his belated appearance, sauntering down from backstage. The fans give him an earful of hatred, as he journeys to the announce table. He takes a seat next to Coach, the only one in the arena glad to see him COLE Now what? Christian Wright? Wonderful. Just wonderful. CHRISTIAN A pleasure to be in your presence as well. Greetings, Johnathan! You look, how do you say...fly? COACH Wassup, brah! Bohemoth volleys a right cross at Kris, and she's instantly on the move to avoid the strike that could break her nose upon impact. She sidesteps his closed fist, then frantically tries to chink away at his granite solid armor with side kicks. Unfortunately, she'd have an easier time finding a needle in a haystack then dealing any damage to this mammoth slugger. Bo, feeling more like he's being pecked at by a mosquito then hit by a former tag team champion, places his hand on Krista's face, engulfing it in his grip so that she looks almost headless. He then nonchalantly pie faces the surly diva to the mat! Boos for Bo's effortless display of dominance come fast and furious, as a grimacing Krista clutches onto her face. The cameras weave past her fingers and get a telling shot of her bold agony and the monstrous fingerprints left on her tanned skin. CABOOSE Christian, lately Bo hasn't looked very sharp. He seems to be off his game, and I hear rumblings that people in the Upstarts are very upset with his performances lately. WRIGHT If you insist on authoring disharmony where none exist, then perhaps my time amongst you heartless hinds would be better spent delivering you each a sound drubbing so that you know not to speculate on that which is above your meager intellect. The Bohemoth you see today is as excellent as the Bohemoth you may have seen many moons ago. Krissy stands up, sporting an admirable, if not misguided, look of defiance. She waves the big man on, and he accepts her challenge, fully intending on eradicating the troublesome lady. He grabs her arm and hurls her into orange ring ropes. They giftwrap her back to Bo who waits with a clothesline. However Miss California moves much too quick for the lumbering grappler, and is able to leap onto his shoulders with little difficulty! Bo becomes wrought with panic as Krista's smooth legs wrap around his neck, constricting his breathing. His fears prove to be well founded, as she flips the Upstart's enforcer head over heels with a majestic hurricanrana that whips the onlookers into a frenzy! “KRISTA! KRISTA! KRISTA!” Bo, groggily begins to rise to his feet, but his ascension is delayed by a swift basement drop kick to the top of his dome! The excellently placed attack rocks his neck back and forth like a bobble head and sends the overwhelmed gladiator bouncing away in pain. Krista, breathing bloody murder, closes the distance between her foe with three lanky steps. Reaching down and taking a fistful of his finely gelled hair, she grins, ready to pull him up for more punishment! But suddenly Bo launches a vile fist upward, landing it in her six-packed stomach! Krissy can't help but emit a chilling scream of terror, that rolls tears down the cheeks off a few of her younger fans around the arena. COACH Christian, a couple of announcers out here, I won't name names, may think that you're a bit of a coward for not coming down when Krista first called you out. How do you respond to that? WRIGHT I did not answer Krista's call, because I don't come to the whims and calls of homosapien inferior, or as you call them...women. Thus I have sent an underling to do my bidding. While his nauseous enemy tries her hardest not to throw up the Slim Fast Milkshake she had for lunch, Bo bounds off the ropes, building speed for what should be a massive lariat! But as he draws near his victim she roars back with a spinning wheel kick! The crowd popping move halts the lariat and shoves the boulderous fighter into the ropes! Unwilling to give her formidable foe a nanosecond to rest, Miss California surges forward, praying that she can catch him off balance and knock him out of the ring. But Bo recovers and catches her with a back body drop that could very well throw her from the ring! The audience holds their collective breath, thinking that this mismatch is about to come to a grizzly end for our heroine. But Krista lets them all breathe a long sigh of relief as she expertly lands her Guess? boots onto the ring apron. Unlike the applauding crowd, Bo is less then pleased to see Krista has lived to die another day. Looking like some kind of steroid riddled demon he surges to her with a forearm smash! But Krista blocks this move, making like Christina Milan and dipping it low to hit him with a shoulder block! Taken by surprise, Bo is left doubled over by her counter. Krista moves quickly, certain her rival is already in the process recovering. She flings herself back into the squared circle, and tries to accomplish the impossible by sucking him down with a sunset flip! CABOOSE I don't know if Bo's going to go down! Bullets of sweat pop off her worried face as absolutely no progress is made in getting a pin. The crowd starts to sing her name, perhaps willing her the strength to achieve her goal. But the ferocious gargoyle stays erect like a towering Gothic statue. Making matters worse, he soon goes on the offense drilling a callous punch directly to Krissy's lovely face. Not wishing to have her nose be splattered across the ring, Krista slides through Bo's legs, narrowly avoiding his fist! CHRISTIAN Oh good heavens. Never send a mere man to do a God's job. CABOOSE Are you calling yourself God? COACH You speak as if he shouldn't! Bo is in obvious pain, and this coupled with the fact he lacks any noticeable speed, allows a much faster Krista to seize the moment to attack! She plants a basement dropkick into Bo's wide as the state of Texas ass and crashes him into the ropes. He lies prone across the second cable throat first. The front row fans openly mock his misfortune, but that will soon be the least of his worries if Krissy has anything to say about that. Grabbing onto the third rope, the blond bombshell slingshots herself out the ring, and extends her leg forward to hit Bo in the back of the neck with a gorgeous leg drop! As the crowd roots on his enemy, Bo rolls back towards the center the ring, the affects of Krista's aerial assault slicing painful gashes into his throat. Meanwhile on the outside, Krista strikes a few poses for the throng of eager fans trying to capture her image on their cameras. CHRISTIAN Flaunting herself in the middle of an athletic affair! Never in my life! When The Upstarts assume total control, rest assured the only cheesecake we have around will be for eating. COACH Ya got that right! Wait, are we talking about the same the type of cheesecake? Krissy repositions herself on the ring apron, as the hulking monster finally rises. In an unusual show of horrible judgment, she hurls herself at him with a slingshot a cross body block. This move carries the possibility of hospital trip in Izzy's near future as Bo easily catches her in his arms. A terrible fear litters her face as his strong grip squeezes her body, nearly crushing it to the ashes. Bo kneels down, slamming Krista rib first across his outstretched knee with tremendous velocity! The fans belt an ensemble of boos as Bo fluidly moves from one rib breaker to the next. Upon hearing the gruesome cracking of her bones, Krista issues a horrible shriek in anguish. While it may be a depressing cry to the crowd, it's sweet music to Bo's ears, and it spurs him to twist her body around and slam her down with a shinbreaker! Krissy lands with another terrible crack, and slides off his leg to the mat, not knowing which of her wounded limbs to cradle first. Bo affords her no relief, making it a point to direct vicious stomps to her ribs and right leg. “LET'S GO KRISTA! LET'S GO KRISTA!” Bohemoth pulls the recipient of those heartfelt chants upward, then snaps her with a quick arm wrench before shooting her towards the ropes. Even while hobbling like a peg leg, Krista is still faster then anyone Bo's ever encountered. Thus he must work quickly to keep on the offensive. He rushes forward, seeking to rearrange her facial features with a mighty punch! But at the last possible moment, Krista ducks, and Bo's once dangerous attack just gently glides through her golden mane. As the crowd salutes Krista's evasion, both warriors carry themselves to the ropes. The enemies bounce back towards each other in a flash, and in what can only be compared to bullet train hitting a bunny rabbit, Bohemoth presents a big boot that lands with horrifying perfection on Krista's crimson lips. Poor Krista plummets to the mat, in a manner not dissimilar to if she had been thrown out a seventh floor window. Unfortunately Bo's big boot hurts more then that plunge ever could. As Kris lies splayed out on the ground, he sticks a boot on her heaving chest, and flexes DA GUNZ~! For the ultimate in arrogant cover. ONE TWO But Bohemoth isn't through torturing the smaller athlete. Consequently he steps off her body, killing what should have been a match ending count. Though the crowd isn't eager to see the Upstart win, they aren't excitedly thrilled with the prospects of watching their favorite lady get pounded into oblivion either. Thus they vehemently boo the meterosexual monster. Krista tries to push herself up, only to have the King Kong sized grappler send a booming boot into her ribs! She hollers out into the night as she slowly sinks back to the sweat stained canvas. Now working through the politically incorrect chants of “Bo the homo”, Bohemoth presses his foot onto the back of Krista's head, then swings around, sadistically shifting his immeasurable weight onto her skull. Again Krista comes up with a full throated howl that further heats the audience's impassioned anger. CABOOSE What's wrong with you Upstarts? That's a god damn two hundred eighty seven pound animal treating a [i]woman[/i] like that. It makes me sick. COACH What a bleeding heart sissy you've become! It's like Simon said, if they want to wrestle men, they'll get their ass kicked like men. Simple as that. Taking hold of her arm, Bo pulls Krista to a vertical base. He slings her to a far corner with a heavy Irish Whip. Krissy's back endures the brunt of the ghastly impact with the padded steel, and the disheveled starlet immediately collapses to the mat. Legitimately concerned for the woman's welfare, referee Billy Silverman starts to inquire if she's okay. But the well meaning official is promptly shoved aside by the ruthless barbarian, Bohemoth, who slides her underneath the bottom rope, letting her throat hang onto the apron. She stares out at the audience wide eyed, knocked so senseless that she's almost forgetting where she is. After assuring himself that she's properly secured, Bo steps onto that apron, and glowers at a six year old boy in the front row, forcing the frightened tyke to clutch onto his mommy like his life depended on it. Upon finishing his torment of first graders, Bo returns to tormenting women less then half his size, leaping off the apron and trampling his elbow into Krista's skull! Her body convulses on the canvas, while her vision blurs to the point of uselessness. Bo remains outside, flexing his left bicep to elicit jeers from the nettled fans. He simply laughs at the simple minded boneheads, and returns to the squared circle to pin Krista. ONE TWO TH...Again Krista wards off defeat with a last minute kickout. CABOOSE I don't tend to advocate purposely losing a match. But in Krista's case....well, I just don't see the point in continuing to fight. We know you're tough, we know you don't back down, don't risk your health to prove it to us. Thousands upon thousands of possible offensive maneuvers journey through Bo's mind, but he settles on a simple yet brutally effective one and begins sending boot after boot into Krissy's aching head. Able to draw some strength from the fans' support, she rolls over to the ropes, and desperately seizes the bottom one for salvation. She slowly forges past Bohemoth's rampaging boots to successfully get to her feet. The referee speedily moves to separate blood thirsty Bohemoth from his weaker rival, in order to give the fitness queen a moment to recover. As she leans against the cables sucking down deep and labored breaths, Bo taps his foot on the mat in impatience, almost frothing at the mouth. His restlessness gets the better of him and eventually he ignores the ref's orders, risking a DQ by charging at Kris with a shoulder block to the ribs! The move connects with deadly exactitude, bringing alarmed gasps from the audience. Krista grimaces in agony, nearly sliced in half by the razor sharp shot. The big man takes advantage of her vulnerability, and bends her backwards into a standing dragon sleeper. Despite her wounded status, KID immediately takes up the onerous task of fighting against his hold. But she'd have a better chance of escaping from the fangs of a mountain lion, as this predator is unwilling to relinquish his grip. She attempts to pepper him with punches, but these harmless blows only manage to draw a condescending chuckle rather then advance her cause for freedom. Forced into a mode of desperation, Krista delves into her stash of last resort moves, and plants the heel of her shoe into Bo's testicles! Not only does this score quite the pop from the Memphis faithful, but it's horrid affects require Bo to release his hold and tend to his injured unit. “LET'S GO KRISTA! LET'S GO KRISTA! LET'S GO KRISTA!” Her sweat slicked body feeling like it weighs as much as a brick of lead, Kris' lone goal is to end this contest as quickly as humanly possible. Thus she hooks on a frontface lock and takes Bo for a dizzying ride with a tornado DDT! While the move was visually impressive, it doesn't seem to have much effect on the big man. And much to her chagrin and horror, he promptly rises to a vertical base, unfazed by her aerial assault. Stricken with worry, she hurls caution to the wind and dashes at him with a sunset flip! Unlike her previous misadventure with the move she actually pulls him down for a pin this time! ONE Bo kicks out with authority, and rises even faster then Krista, despite being the one who's taken the past series of offensive moves. He squashes her short lived flurry of attacks by propelling her to the ropes with an Irish whip. Krista takes a page out of gal-pal Alix's book by springing onto the third rope, and slinging her shapely body back at a standing Bo with a lionsault press. But the ex-HI-YAH heavyweight champion catches her in mid flight with astounding ease. The blond bombshell furiously kicks her legs against Bo's back as if she was a damsel in distress being kidnaped by a Wild West villain. Grunting fiercely, Bo runs to the edge of the squared circle with his enemy slung over his shoulder! Proclamations of “BO SUCKS” pour down from the bleachers as it appears the OAOAST's biggest wrestler is going to violently drop one if it's smallest across the ropes! But the negative vibes the crowd were espousing suddenly turn positive as Krissy slips off Bo's back and lands squarely on her feet! Putting her new found freedom to excellent use, she leaps onto Bo in a piggy back position for a desperation sleeper hold. She cinches her grip around his incredibly thick neck as tight as she possibly can. Yet her presence is nothing more then an annoying inconvenience, and is easily brushed off when he grabs onto the side of her head and heaves her forward off his body! Unfortunately for Krista this pedestrian counter is made a million times worse thanks to her location in the ring. Her body sails over the ropes, as fearful gasps are shared amongst the audience. Unable to properly brace her fall, she smashes into the poorly protected concrete with a cringe worthy head first impact! The audience is beside themselves with panic as she slumps over in a demolished heap in front of the apron! COLE Good lord in heaven! COACH I think Bo's about to pick up an easy count out victory, fellas. WRIGHT Hmmm. I wouldn't be so sure of that, Johnathan. As bad as Krista's situation looks currently, a far bleaker cloud is cast over it when Wright removes himself from his commentary position. He stalks over to her, regarding her prone body with bitterest gall and contempt. Ignoring Bo's confused and dissenting queries as to what he thinks he's doing, Wright grabs Krista by her tanktop and roughly launches her face first into the steel steps! The stairs become dislodged under the tremendous force of Wright's attack, and she screams from the sudden burst of white hot pain. However seeing his ailing enemy whimpering at his feet fails to satisfy Wright's thirst for carnage. He begins to rain beastly punches to the back of her head, tickled with delight by her heartbreaking cries of distress. The Moral Highground endures a marvelous amount of abuse from the fans, many of whom have to be restrained by an over matched security force. The powerless referee signals for the bell to be rung, affording Krista a DQ victory. But the outcome seems almost trivial when compared to the hell the beloved babyface is about to suffer. BUFFER The winner by disqualification, Krista Isadora Duncan! COLE Christian just cost Bo the match and what he's doing right now is beyond pale! “WRIGHT SUCKS! WRIGHT SUCKS!” Wright stands over Krista's fallen body, merely staring at her as if her quivering frame held all the significance of a mashed fly on a windshield. He takes a fistful of her lush hair and yanks her upright, laughing like a maniac into her anguished face. The volume of his laughter increases by the second as he pulls Kris' head back and smashes it into the tip of the apron. Now sieged by rapid fire abuse from an unhinged audience, Wright pushes her into the ring, and follows her inside, as much to escape the deluge of trash being hurled his way as to continue his torturing. CABOOSE Good god. Now what is he going to do? Bo,still taken aback about being deprived of a sure victory, passionately asks Wright what he thought he was doing. But Christian, with finality in his voice, informs his lackey that the mission of morality is far more important then his piddly victories. Leaving Bo to pout like a child, Wright reaches down and picks up Krista, knocking her trembling hands away as she favors her head. He sneers out towards the crowd while he sets her into a vertical suplex position. As their anger reaches it's plateau, he twists to the side and falls backwards, forcefully colliding Krista's head with rock solid canvas! Now laboring under a throbbing headache, Krista heroically tries to rise, desperate to fight back and end the unbearable pain that's being administered by her adversaries. But Bo simply stomps on her hair, holding her in her victimized place. [B]“BOOOOOOOOO”[/B] Goes the crowd while Christian strikes an audacious crucifix pose above Krista's body! COLE That son of a bitch just hit Krista with [b]The Converting the Sinner[/b]! Damn him! Hold on! The fans are cheering. Why? COACH Maybe they've finally seen C-Dub's vision for the future. Um, no. Not quite. Wright continues to berate his victim, but unbeknownst to him [b]Alix Spezia[/b], with graphite [i]lacrosse stick[/i] in hand, is zooming into the ring to rescue her friend! A confused Wright turns and is caught off guard by the cold metal of the lacrosse stick hitting his stomach! With the rambunctious fans chanting her on, Alix takes another baseball like swing at the snotty star and connects solidly with his chin, rocking him back to the canvas! “ALIX! ALIX! ALIX!” Bo finally does something besides sulk about his lost victory, springing forward to pulverize Alix with a monsterous big boot! This one simple move deflates the crowd's glee like a pin through a balloon, and puts a harsh end to Alix's rescue efforts. Waves of agony scream throughout her body,as her hands shoot up to protect her now tear streaked face. The heartless monster buys his friend moments to recover, by taking the lacrosse stick and pressing it horizontally against Alix's throat! Her violent wails shrink into gagging sobs under the demonic weight of his weapon aided choke hold. The responding laughter from Wright cuts into her psyche painfully. To her right, a despondent Krista can only look on helplessly as she is forced to withstand the repulsive manhandling. [b]“BOOOOOOO!”[/b] COLE Jesus Christ! He's choking her with a good damn lacrosse stick! This is...this is awful! Now what's Christian doing? Wright collars his hands around a coughing Alix's throat and hoists the battered fan favorite up. Taking a gruff chunk of her hair, he cruelly and slowly rotates her around on the ring, as if he was displaying a hard won trophy to the heated audience. A hot flash of humiliation courses through her bones as she gasps and bucks against his clutches. Wright luxuriates in dragging the weeping woman from one side of the ring to next, showcasing her shivering body as an objectified prize. Ignoring the torrent of crowd rage attacking him from all sides, Wright demands a microphone. He's given one and prepares to address the fans. WRIGHT (still holding onto Alix's hair) Salutations, citizens of Memphis! “YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK!” WRIGHT I believe the correct response is “Greetings, moral and intellectual superior! How may we serve you, your esteemed highness?” Perhaps you ask yourself how upstanding citizens such my associate and myself can take these ghoulish actions against mere women. These are not women, these are whores who's lives are worth less then that of your average street walking prostitute! I care not for what happens to their welfare, so as long as what happens is terrible and traumatizing! I make no claim to be an angel, but their behavior and actions go above and beyond the call of a devil! Thus they art punished! However their tears and sorrows, while delighting to this exemplary spirit, do not even begin to pay for a quarter of their sins! Her physical and mental exhaustion making it nearly impossible to support herself, Alix begins moaning in terror, overshadowing Wright's speech. Obviously displeased with her pitiful noises, Wright slams the microphone deep into her stomach, sending a sharp bolt of pain arcing through her body. Alix nearly topples over, kept upright only by his iron grip on her hair. Her voice fails her, and she's silenced into heavy terrified breathing. “BOOOOOO!” WRIGHT You profane Memphis degenerates jeer the fruits of my noble toils! You insult me without relent as I traverse the lonely road towards righteous perfection, slaying these tramps as they stand between myself and the OAOAST's salvation! Why? Because you are tangled within the enchanting spell of their beauty! But what if I was to strip them of that exquisiteness? What then? What if I was to pare away the alluring mask they wear, fully exposing their revolting and immoral personalities for all to shriek in horror at and deplore in right minded indignation. What then? No longer would the looks you bend towards them be ones of affection, but rather ones of scorn and derision! (He turns Alix to face him, and stares deeply into her eyes) You look at me, slut! I could leave you breathless from the horror and disgust of your true grotesqueness! I can rob you of the one thing that defines you, and allows you to debase my society! You can not conceive a hundredth of the anguish I can force you and Krista to bear! You will pray for any relief from the wretchedness I will have caused you! Enough! Enough of these threadbare and trite words. Let us dance to the unmerciful music of saintly ethicality. Let us find out, dear Alix and dear Krista, what will happen when you're no longer beautiful. CABOOSE What's this idiot talking about? I think he's done enough and said enough. Get him out of here! Christian discards the microphone, and reaches it into his pocket to pull out a pair of scissors! He foists them into the arena sky, as if he was raising a holy sword! Those audience members who are aware of what loathsome action is soon to transpire, boo lustily, and chant for anybody, Leon, Jade, Zack, to come to Alix and Krista's aid. But the rampway remains absent of a savior,as Wright, lips in a diabolic grin, glides his sheers towards Alix's dazzling brown hair. Through the unstoppable crying and feeling of powerless depression, Alix tries to reason with him. She meekly implores him not to hurt Krista, to at least let her go. But he just stares back down at her, implacable, offering no dissent, showing zero inclination to give her any room for negotiation. He ignores her weeping pleas and rudely tells her to hold still, unless she wants to risk his scissors “slipping” and cutting her fair skin. COLE He's going to cut their hair! Son of a bitch! The mood of the audience improves ten fold and they explode with cheers when they spot the [b]Sk8er Boiz[/b], holding steel chairs, rushing down the ramp to fight off the nefarious tag team! As teenage girls across America shriek with pleasure at their appearance, [i]Teen People[/i]'s Sexiest tag team hits the ring, swinging chairs like lunatics! Bo and Christian are totally overwhelmed by the crazed assault of Marvin and Melvin! COLE The Boiz are back in town! Hot dog! Being the smarter one of the duo, Wright has the good sense to bail, as his pair of scissors aren't much of a defense against chair swinging Canucks. However Bo stands obstinate, daring the twins to hit him with everything they've got. The Boiz are more then happy to oblige that unwise request and wallop the big man across the face with two beautiful shots! The thundering attacks daze the once defiant superstar, opening a gash above his left eye! They also clumsily tumble him through the second and third ropes and out of the ring, much to the fans' joy! Marvin leans over the ropes, ordering Bo to come back and fight. But Christian gets between his irate second, forcing them both to make a hasty retreat up the ramp. Marvin's onyx eyes follow them, shooting daggers at the escaping couple, while his brother attends to the girls. COACH What the heck are those morons doing here? Who do they think they are? They live an easy existence! All they have to do is skate, surf, pose for pictures, workout, tan, and wrestle twice a month. But now they want to play knight in shining armor and make things difficult around here. My ass! COLE Marvin and Melvin attribute their recent success to Krista's fitness videos, and they look at her like a mother figure. So put two and two together, Coach! And thank god for Marvin and Melvin! Good job, twins! Coach, I don't know how you of all people can condone what Christian and Bo tried to do. COACH It ain't easy. But the twenty five percent raise I just got makes it a whole lot easier! Heheeheh.

Hi! How are you?

Krista, talkative and bitter gal that she is, will have many a thing to say! Oh yeah, Tony, I'll ger back to you soon!

NO. I want 1/8th of CC's cookie! Anyway, I should leave some very brief observations and what not. So Zack really is being shipped off to Japan! I'd be interested to see how he builds to his AM Match (whatever it is) while being in a totally different hemisphere. I think already told KC what I thought of his Bo segment, but I liked it. I think that's the most I've ever heard (read?) Bo say. Just who will PK's world title challengers be? A returning Popick? One of the Upstarts? Former tag team partner The Parka? Motley Crue's Mick Mars? I personally am holding out hope for Mars. SHOUT AT THE DEVILLLLLL! The LC spoof was purrrrdy cute. I LOLed at Jade(as Lindsay) graphically describing Leon's (as PRL) sexual prowess. What must Mama Rodez have thought watching that? Leon's really meshed well with that whole group of ex-LC members, and EWC and KC are putting out some solid stuff together. And the 24/7 title match later on was a perfect example of that. Hey, Hoff is back! I'm looking forward to the street fight as it should be a huge match. So are we gonna have two street fights next week? There's this announced one between Hoff and Mr.T, and then there's the Latino Thug one. If I had had more time I probably could've done a lot more the NNMX bit. But as it stands I think 149 and I put out a decent little piece of writing given our time restraints. Frank Frankensteiner has incredible self restraint. I expected a profanity laced tirade out of him, instead he was reasonably clam. A solid promo all in all. Reject finally turned to the darkside. I'd be interested in hearing his exact explanation because, aside from beating him for the Heartland title shot, TK's been pretty cool to him despite Reject being an enormous dick half the time. Thanks for the compliments on the debate, ya'll! I didn't think it would turn out all that well. Actually GPX won the Anderson Cup last year.

Isn't that Sable?

If you could put this after the skit with bo that would be wonderous. thank you. BUFFER Ladies and gentlemen it is time for an official OAOAST debate on the subject of [b]role modelling[/b] and it is brought to you by Ecstasy a new fragance by Krista Isadora Duncan! The eloquent funk that makes up the intro of [i]Drop it like it's hot[/i] by Snoop Doggy Dogg seeps into the viewing audience's ears. The noise is met with confused whispers from the attendees. But the hushed silence soon turns to brilliant cheering as the special guest moderator appears on screen. He is none other then the dog father himself, Snoop Doggy Dogg! BUFFER Introducing first the special guest moderator, as selected by Alix Spezia, from Long Beach, California her is a grammy nominated recording artist who has gone platinum with over five different albums he is.....SNOOP DOGGGGG!! “YEAAAAAAAA!” COACH My man, Snoop! Alright! Leave it to Axel to bring out the c-lebs! COLE Alix picked him, dummy! Snoop slaps hands with the ringside fans, who forcefully push and shove at each other to get a closer glimpse of the hip-hop mega star. As the noise level reaches it's highest point, he enters the squared circle, which contains two podiunms, and is handed a microphone. “SNOOP! SNOOP! SNOOP! SNOOP The D-O-double geeze in the Big O! Saint Louis, this shit's about to jump off real fast and real quick. I hosted Girls Gone Wild, but ain't nothing more wild then the O to the A to the O. And we gonna get real wild with the Big Boss Dogg as we setting to straight up debate with Christian Wright and my girl Alix Spezia. This is gonna be some freaky shit, so let's let them dogs out! On cue the hard driving preamble of [i]Slither[/i] by Velvet Revolver comes ripping through the arena's speakers! Boos are immediate as the entrance doors tear apart, revealing a snarling, Christian Wright. Outfitted in a charcoal single breasted suit, the vengeful Upstart, throws his arms out to his side, tilting his head towards the heavens and striking a defiant pose of triumph in the face of an unending wave of jeers! BUFFER Introducing contestant number one from Raleigh, North Carolina, he is The Natural......CHRISTIAN WRIIIIIIGHT! More taunts, insults and catcalls drench the snobbish grappler, who struts down the ramp with his head held high in fantastic confidence. But the frown written on his visage betrays his otherwise stoic demeanor. COACH Fellas, this guy was robbed at Zero Hour. Krista Isadora Duncan, who had no reason to be down there, cost the man his world title. Christian Wright deserves to be a champion, and he's a champion in my mind. And we're about to see that not only does he wrestle like a champ, he debates like one to! COLE Wright didn't get robbed! Bo was trying to screw Zack, and Krista made sure justice was served. And Christian deserved no less after what he did to Jade and how he cost the girls their tag titles. CW steps into the ring, careful not to cause any wrinkles to his fashionable threads. Snoop, perhaps unaware of Wright's horrible reputation, offers his hand in friendship. But Wright meets the polite gesture with a contemptuous sneer, and heads to his podium. Soon his rollicking tune fades away, and the chants of “YOU'RE NOT THE CHAMP! YOU'RE NOT THE CHAMP!” are heard crystal clear by his outraged ears. But those chants are soon subdued by a scream of anticipation as a beautiful [color=red][b]red[/color][/b] pyro fountain rises forth from the stage. It meets with an equally lovely [color=#ff3366 ][b]pink[/color][/b] pyro waterfall. As the chorus of Nelly Furtado's [i]Promiscuous Girl[/i] seeps into the ears of the OAOAST faithful, both the pyrotechnics dissipate, replaced by a booming [color=#ffff33][b]gold[/color][/b] explosion that consumes the entire stage! The fans erupt with a thundering ovation as Alix Spezia, bedecked in a red tube minidress, appears on the stage. She rhythmically jerks her body back and forth to beat of her song, as Buffer prepares to make his final introduction! BUFFER And contestant number two, from Los Angeles, Califorina, she is the 2005 OAOAST female wrestler of the year, ALIX MARIAAAAA SPEZIA! Alix flounces down the ramp, while Wright, sweating bullets, grips angirly onto his podium. He nearly digs his fingers into the balsa wood, but it's all he can do to stop his rage from completely overtaking him. The beloved heroine steps into the ring apron, and slowly and seductively enters the squared circle, causing Snoop to crane his neck for a closer inspection. SNOOP They oughta put a camera in my sun glasses, 'cause what I'm seeing gots it going on. I feel like the mutha'fucking president right here. Wassup girl? Alright. Let's get make this bizzile crackalizzile. Here the rules.... (Wright is seemingly unable to contain his furor for the female fan favorite any longer. Trembling, he leans into his microphone, and launches a vile barrage of accusations her stunned way, interrupting Snoop.) WRIGHT Do you realize what you have done to me? Do you realize what irreparable harm you and your booze ridden armpiece have done to my reputation? Do you realize that by robbing me of my championship you have turned my once tranquil existence into an anarchic living hell? Is your minuscule brain, no bigger then the droppings of a Shar Pei puppy and with all the intelligence to boot, capable of comprehending what wrongs you have transgressed towards me? ALIX Uh, is this all gonna be old stuff I already know? Or is this new stuff? I'm gonna have to start writing all this down! Jeez, ya nearly choke a guy to death, and ya got an enemy for life! What gives? (singing like the Black Eyed Peas) Where's the love, yall? I don't know. Where's the love? I don't know. One love. One love. One love. (Pushed to the edge of his sanity, Christian steps away from his podium, ready to change this battle from one of wits to one of brawn. However Snoop swiftly intercepts the ill tempered star.) SNOOP Man, chill the hell out. We gonna conduct this debate and we gonna conduct this the right way. So sayeth the muthafuckin dogfather. Now can you deal wit that? Get yo ass back behind the podium. I'm gonna ask you a question, and all you gotta do is answer it. I don't ask you a question, you don't got nothing to say. Simple as that. You follow that one rule we cool. You don't follow that one rule, then when we ain't cool. And believe me, you wanna be cool with a crip. Understand? (Brooding, Wright nods) Babygirl, you caught the rule? ALIX Like herpes from a Tijuana hooker! WRIGHT There! There! Right there! She did it right there! Right there! SNOOP Man, what the did I just tell you? You get done licking the windows on the short bus and decide you wanna play wrestler? What's wrong with you? You wanna speak? I'ma let you speak, then. Make your opening statement. WRIGHT (clearing his throat first) Very well. OAOAST fans are a contemptible lot. Their viewing of Chicks Over Dicks as role models is a pitiful concept, one that should tell you many things about the mind of the common wrestling fan. As I watch these televisual transmissions from the comforts of my dressing quarters, I am often both amused and highly distressed to see the fan base cheer so fiercely for Miss Spezia. What we have gathered before us in the stands today is a freakshow worthy collection of sub-human troglodytes, disgusting in both hygiene and thought, and ugly to the point where they rival the elephant man in terms of unsightliness. While I know it is not proper to judge a book by it's cover. I must allow myself this one slip up. For these fans' outter appearance perfectly symbolizes the frightening hideousness of their horrible souls! “BOOOOOOOOO” WRIGHT So is it any wonder that they're smitten with these Chicks Over Dicks? After all not only are these females as ignorant and boorish as they are, but unlike them, they carry the added bonus of not looking as though they recently crawled out of a sewage plant! Consequently, the meatheaded OAOAST fanbase laps them up like they do a pool of their own urine! Stunning in appearance, the “entertainment” offered by these women shows that they're of the mentality that their thongs serve a dual purpose, both as underwear and a bank deposit for whatever man or woman wishes to slip a twenty into it. What they lack in the style, wit, and class, they make up for with by parading their silicone infested bodies in around tights that display half their posteriors. Each woman commits their own sins. What of Krista Isadora Duncan? She appears as though she should embody the very perfection of the feminine ideal. But this amazon has all the femininity of an out of control jack hammer! The only thing that separates her from the crude violence prone dullard at a local tavern is high heels and Revlon lipstick! She is no woman. She is an uncontrollable hooligan draped in Marylin Monroe's clothing. And what of Alix Spezia? The bile that spews forth from her mouth would overflow a toxic waste dump. Disgusting Jezebel. She like so many other women would've been better born a mute. This nymph openly flaunts her promiscuity and sexual deviancy without regards to shame or modesty. She freely discusses her abusive past she suffered at the hands of her cave-dwelling brethren as if it was a mere comedy prop. Her general idiocy would give any man with a lick of sense pause. Thankfully for her, there are very few people in wrestling besides myself who have that lick of sense! If Alix Spezia was to speak her mind, I do believe she would be speechless! She is no woman! She is a glorified street walker! Now let us put her on the street so that she may earn us some extra revenue! COACH I'm buying! Can I get a frequent drivers card? Heeeheh. WRIGHT A proper female is to be docile, respectful, modest and most importantly silent. Alix and Krista are unruly, disrespectful, flamboyant, and loud. And for that I highly recommend they, like any woman who does not know her station, be slapped and smacked until the shroud of silence falls over them. What somebody such as Krista is doing is inspiring a generation of young women to believe that their place isn't at beck and call of their husbands, and underneath the scrutinizing eye of man. She is tricking them into believing that a woman's role is not dictated by the oven timer! And you fools cheer for them! You celebrate their appearance on your television! You take Krista as a strong female role model! And that is a horrible indictment of you as individuals, and as a group! And for that you deserve nothing but hell and misery! “YOU'RE NOT THE CHAMP! YOU'RE NOT CHAMP!” chant the audience, reminding Wright of his own personal anguish. SNOOP Alix, hit me with a rebuttal. ALIX Oooh, ooh, ooh! Christian, you've just sent a little man up my BUTT and he's telling me it's time to rock on out! And when I've got a little man up my BUTT, yelling in my ear to rock the hell out, I say “I'm gonna rock the hell out!” Unless that little man happens to be rubber and strapped on to someone, in which case I usually say “Krista, can ya stop tugging on my hair so hard?”. But back to the point! And the point is women's lib! Women's lib is most the gnarly thing since Kool-Aid Jammers! Women's lib is like a power up for the soul! Like mushrooms to Super Mario! Speaking of, I've been eating mushrooms since I was little bunny, and I never turned into a giant like Mario, all I do when I eat shrooms is ride unicorns across the sky of 18th century Egypt with Jimi Hendrix and Mama Cass. Anyway! Women's lib is like totally empowering! To everybody! It gives all of us the strength to stand up and say “We're not gonna take it! No we ain't gonna take it! We're not gonna take it anymore!” Like without women's lib my Aunt Karen might still be working at the Busy Beaver All Nude Revue! But because of women's lib she was empowered to stand up for herself and say “This neon pink cowgirl outfit and glow in the dark boobie tassels demeans me as a woman and objectifies me as a sex object!” and women's lib gave her the strength to quit that job and a take a better one! One at Tan Fannies Thick BUTT Showcase, where they respect her right not to degrade her womanhood by wearing demeaning boobie tassels! Hooray women's Lib! (Wright starts biting his lip, a futile effort to stifle his rage) ALIX Because of movements like women's lib, we know that it's okay to be who you want to be! Women's lib gives us all a great sense of self confidence! We can all say I'm here and I'm queer! I'm black and I'm back! I'm white and I'm right, but not right in the sense that I will continue to subjugate the same minority groups I've oppressed and belitted for a gazillion years! We can say I'm Asian and uh...nothing rhymes with Asian. But they're still dope! It empowers you to be able to express yourself the way you want to, and not the way someone else wants you to! Christian, you can express that you think I'm a dirty whore, and I can express that I think your next vacation should be to a redneck biker bar wearing a tinker bell costume and carrying a bag full of Barbra Streisand albums! Freedom of expression is wonderful and we owe it to women's lib! Movements like women's lib are about giving us back control of our lives! They let us control bodies and our future so that we can do who ever we want! WRIGHT Do you mean do [i]what[/i] ever we want? ALIX I said what I meant! Because of people in the women's rights movement and others like it continue to fight for our freedom of self expression, you and I are able stand up here today and have this debate! And because of all that I have to say I respectfully disagree with your opening assessment and say that Diet Doctor Pepper does taste like regular Doctor Pepper! (At this point Wright loses his shit) WRIGHT (going red, looking like he's about to explode) That...that....that....HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE SUBJECT AT HAND! I hate you! I hate you! Rapper man, I don't recall your name, disqualify this girl at once! Make haste! Declare me the victor! (Wright latches onto Snoops arm and starts to vigorously shake it, as chants of “ALIX! ALIX!” ring through the air) SNOOP Man, what the hell is wrong with you? Get up off me! You always act like this? You need to get you some weed, some hen, some hos, something to calm yo crazy ass down. God damn. Alix, girl, that was some powerful ass shit, right there. Deep. But the man's got a point, this here topic ain't about liberatin' but role modelating. ALIX Awwww! Well, I ask that my comments be stricken from the record! WRIGHT That is a legal term. We are not presently located in a courtroom! ALIX Oh! Well then, I rest my case! WRIGHT Strumpet! I believe it is my turn vocalize my concepts and ideas, Puff Daddy. SNOOP It's [i]Snoop....Dogg[/i]. WRIGHT Dully noted. You all look alike anyway. Present me my query. Be quick about it, boy! SNOOP I'll be quick 'bout something. It ain't gonna be what you want me to be quick about. Here you go, what makes a good role model? WRIGHT A good role model is someone who does not speak as if she is paralyzed from the nose up, such as this wild bimbo. A good role model is not someone who's g-string goes down faster then a Popsicle stand in December. A good role model isn't someone like Alix Spezia who wouldn't know left from right if you gave her four guesses. There is your answer. The squalor, the filth, the wanton sexuality, the depravity, the reckless display of carnal pleasures, the promotion of uncontrolled substance abuse, the glorification of degeneration of the American family, and the complete absence of anything wholesome or good that Alix Spezia and Krista Isadora Duncan represent authors a wicked mindset among their numerous devotees, and makes it a certainty that if their smut is allowed to proliferate unchecked by the moral majority, society will be sunk into something little more civilized then a rabid pack of stray dogs. ALIX Okie dokie artichokie, then [i]who[/i] makes a good role model? You? WRIGHT Exactly. Citizens of Saint Louis, rather then relegate you all to the level of methadone clinic out patient, which is the level you belong on, I am offering you my assistance! Anoint me as your savior, and I shall achieve glories known only to the Gods. Seek salvation from sin and perversion with me! Leave this succubus to rot in her cauldron of decadence! Make me your role model! I am doing it for your own good! I am the ideal! I am the moral high ground! You need a man who's slate has not been wiped clean because it's never been soiled in the first place! What you need is a leader, a warrior, who's unassailable morality stands as firm as cast iron bars, and who's vibrantly bursting colors of virtue will not fade from the unrelenting wear and tear put on it by it's trampish adversaries. Most of you would have a better chance of landing on the moon then emulating a being of my majestic splendor. Howeverit is better to try and fail to live in the image of god, then it is to try and succeed to live between the devil's bed sheet. Live through me and join in my jubilant celebration as the tower of my virtuosity rises to the heavens! ALIX That will be the only thing rising with you. Snoop, babe, do you mind if I get my [i]rebutall[/i] on? SNOOP Go on babygirl, do that thang. ALIX With so much drama in the O-A-O, it's kinda hard being A-L-I-single X. But somehow someway I keep coming up with funky ass shit nearly every single day. Christian, I'm starting to pick up on a wee bit of jealousy. And why wouldn't you be envious of me? I am an Oscar Winner. WRIGHT You've never won an Oscar! ALIX That's what Jodie Foster's lawyers say, but possession is ninth/tenths of the law, right? Well I possess ten/tenths of an Oscar, so that little golden man is mine, baby! Anywho, were where we? Oh that's right jealously. I think your main problem is that, well, you're not getting any.. I mean your sex life has as much life in it as a school of mortuary science. The only pair of melons you get your hands on in are the ones in your grocery store's produce aisle! The only time you get [i]laid[/i] is when you buy a bag of potato chips. The last time you touched a pussy, you were at Pet-Smart! You couldn't get your hands on a vagina if your initials were O-B-G-Y-N. “OOOOOOOH!” ALIX But that's alright, that's okay! There's a great explanation for why there's no motion in your ocean! And that has something to do with the fact that when Christina Aguilera in her hit song [i]Beautiful[/i] sung “We are beautiful in every single way” she added in a silent “Except for Christian Wright who is hideously ugly, and has the barely there facial hair of an acquitted on a technicality child molester.” Christian, I don't want you to take this wrong way, because we're friends, but your so ugly that when your in the bathroom, and someone walks in on accident, they don't say “Sorry, didn't know it was occupied.”, they say “Damn! Somebody left a floater!” “OOOOOOOOOH!” ALIX Christian, your so ugly that when you masturbate, your penis files rape charges! SNOOP Damn, damn, damn! Somebody just got pimpslapped! “YOU GOT PIMPSLAPPED! YOU GOT PIMPSLAPPED!” chant the fans as Wright starts stomping around the ring in outrage. ALIX Hey, turn that frown upside down, dude! I'm sure you'll get laid one day. I don't exactly think it will be with a real live woman. And just in case it [i]isn't[/i] with a flesh and blood chick, and you forget to cover your stump before you hump, lemme be the first to ask....can I have one of the puppies? “WE WANT PUPPIES! WE PUPPIES!” WRIGHT (to Snoop) Your efforts as moderator have shown to be as effectual as attempting to put out the great Chicago fire with a single ice cube! Are you going to allow this lollipop to desecrate my fine name with unfiltered accusations of..of..of..bestiality. SNOOP Man, you just don't quit. Aight. Go on and take yo turn. You spit about Alix, so what you gotta say about Krista Isadora Dizzile? WRIGHT Ah Krista Isadora Duncan. While I may not subscribe to her nonsensical pro-choice beliefs, in her case not only must I make a badly needed exception. The next time she gets pregnant, I offer to wield the coat hanger personally! That she beast should have as much right to bear a child as a chimp should have the right to hold political office! What must her daughter think when she looks to Krista, her mother and sees a boisterous, vulgar banshee? What sort of childhood must this girl have had when her first book is not [i]The Cat in The Hat[/i] but [i]Why does Jane have two Mommies?[/i]? What sort of example is being set for this child? With a mother such as Krista, it would not shock me that if by the time this child's sixteenth birthday rolls around, she spends it not with cake and candles, but by walking a south central street ready to go down on any man with a wad of cash and a brick of crack. ALIX That's it! That's it! That is it! CHRISTIAN Excuse me.. ALIX Quiet, meanie! It's time for me to flip on the bitch switch and jack up the seriousness because you've made this Chiquita an angry little banana! You may think you're like Freddie Prinze Jr and you're all that. But everyone else seems to see you more like Bam Margera, because you're a... “JACKASS!” ALIX Whenever I enter the arena I have to whip out the Lysol because your shit is stinking from miles and miles away. I mean, what the hell makes you such a hot and wonderful person that you can walk around and cast your little judgements on everyone, as if you're the king of the universe we all have to bow down to you? Seriously! Like, what's so freaking awesome about you that you're able to tell me that Krista isn't a good mother? I mean, how dare you. What kind of dick are you? Remove your head from Axel's, Bo's, Coach's , whoever's ass it's lodged into, board your spaceship and join the rest of us back on earth. Do not try and tell me that Krista is a bad mother! You have no idea what she goes through. None whatsoever. And for your sake I hope you never do. You would die if you had to do even an eighth of the work she does. I hope you never, ever, have to walk even an inch her shoes. You'd kill yourself. You'd wake up every morning wishing you were dead. I know I would. Anyone would. But Krista does it because she loves her daughter. Like a [i]good[/i] mother should. WRIGHT Puppy fellow, your name seems to be slipping form my memory again, my speech was not complete. Are you going permit her to talk on my time? SNOOP The way you been popping off, be grateful if the only thing I let her do is talk. Go on, girl. ALIX You're a mean one, Mister Wright! You really are a heel! You're as cuddly as a cactus, and as charming as an eel! Mister Wright! You are a monster, and you've totally tricked yourself into thinking that what your doing isn't just cause to have you institutionalized. You so believe your own wacked out shit. And if I didn't work with you this would make great trainwreck TV, but I do have to work with you and it sucks. I can deal with monster who knows and admits he's crazy. Like Hell's Hitmen. When they simulate ass rape in their basement they aren't rationalizing it by saying they're studying the effects that analingus on even dated Friday's has on the migrating patterns of the South African gazelle. They say “Hey, we're in the basement simulating ass rape while a fat Russian woman named Helga rams glass dildos in our mouthes because we like it.” You are way different. When you do something wrong, when you do something horrible, when you try to wreck someone's life, you give this bogus rationalization that it's for their own good. Everything is for somebody else's “good” with you, isn't it? But what you do to people is always something bad. Why not do something good for somebody else's good? That's what a [i]real[/i] role model does. WRIGHT I steadfastly maintain that all my actions are for greater good. ALIX Okie dokie. When you gave Jade a stunner at Zero Hour and left her knocked out on the mat, who's greater good was that for, mister? Her's? Hi, Jade I'm a doctor! It's possible you've suffered a severe case of whiplash, and a minor concussion. But I have some good news! You just saved money on your car insurance by switching to Geico? No, Christian Wright did this for your own good! Really, he did? Tremendous! What a swell chap! I think I'll dance the macrena in celebration!” Whatever! Actually the conversation went more like “Why me? Why did he do this to me? Why?” But your conscience was clear as Crystal Pepsi, because you did it for her own good. Tremendous! You're a great guy, aren'tcha!? WRIGHT Jade Rodez attacked me. I was acting purely out of self defense, as is my right by the laws of your homestate of California. ALIX You're delusional, Christian! Any semblance of you being a decent human being is totally gonzo! Oh my god, I've seen less shit in a septic tank then I've seen come out of your mouth tonight. You're insane! I feel so bad for you. And you wanna be a role model? As if! The only group you could ever role model to are aspiring serial rapists! I never ever said Krista or I made good role models, but we're a million times better then you, dude! Let me tell you what else makes you such a bad role model. Despite what you like to claim, you don't do anything for other people's benefit. There is only person worth helping in your world and that's you. You're not trying to make the OAOAST a better place for the fans, you're trying to make it a better place for you. A role model is supposed to have some kind of ability to understand people's feelings and thoughts and accept their flaws. But I guess when god was passing out personality traits that aren't related to being a total dick, you must've been practicing one of those long winded speeches that bore half the audience into changing the channel, because you missed out. You live in an unrealistic and sheltered world, and you want everyone to conform to impossible standards that you and you alone set. And because they're impossible, nobody can meet them. So you judge them, you belittle them and you mow down their individuality. Why? Because if you cut down everyone else, you an emotional midget, look great in comparison. Your whole motive is to try to make yourself feel better at someone else's expense. But in case you didn't notice you always come out looking like the asshole. And I know you're obviously pretty upset about Krissy and I costing ya your HI-YAH title belt. And I understand that, 'cause I'd know I'd be hella mad if I lost a title I hadn't defended in four months. But don't worry, because we did it.... ALIX AND THE CROWD For your own good! (Overcome by rage, Wright furiously kicks his podium, nearly knocking to the mat) CABOOSE Excellent. WRIGHT I shall not lend credence to the drug fueled ramblings of some harpy who feels the need to end every other thought with the word “dude”. I am not your dude, young lady. I am your moral and intellectual superior, and be thankful that I allowed you that moments rambling. For any other woman would've scored a solid punch to the stomach for choosing to speak out of turn as you did. From henceforth, I believe it would be in your best interest to keep your mouth closed, and stick to what you do best, keeping your legs [i]spread[/i]. SNOOP Man, that ain't right. WRIGHT [i]That ain't right.[/i] Must you bait me to go into my dissertation about how ebonics of the lower class have ruined cultured America. No, your ineptitude must be dealt with swiftly, and perhaps violently. I bit my tongue when I saw that a rapper, and a degenerater of society, a poisoner of the young mind, was selected by this gutter slut to be the guest moderator. But my convictions will lie dormant no more! COACH Here it comes! Here it comes! WRIGHT Because you are a guest in my establishment I shall spare you a vituperative dressing down and cut to my razor sharp point. I demand that you resign your position as moderator. SNOOP Naw. You don't demand nothing of ol Snoop Dogg. WRIGHT If it's payment that is the issue, do not fret. Of course you shall be generously compensated for your rather lackadaisical efforts thus far. I know your people do not aspire towards much.... ALIX Hey! SNOOP My people? My people about to break they foot of in yo ass. WRIGHT Hold on. I was not permitted to complete my proposition! Perhaps you could be placated with some rims, or malt liquor? A bottle of Colt 45, perhaps? (Snoop seems ready to throw down with CW, but Alix steps between him, begging him to calm down, and fearful of what CW might do if they were to brawl. But this moment's hesitation just gives CW further opportunity to insult Snoop.) WRIGHT I have approached you with more altruism then a man of your thuggish character has earned. I now see that this appeal was erroneous on my part! It would seem that the only way that your kind can be reached is through a swell of illegal narcotics, a showcase of gratuitous violence, or the blaring racket of a police siren! Pardon me, Master P, but I must claim ignorance to the mores and social customs that transpired within the urban jungle where your formative years were misspent. But in civilized, mainstream America, where I take residence, tarts such as the one currently protecting you from a savage beating are shunned and disgraced for their lewd actions. Additionally we expect our debate moderators to display a shred of objectivity in their conduct. A gentlemen in your station, now matter how ill his repute may be, owes it to himself and to the integrity of the debate to uphold a sterling impartiality! You sir have failed on several accounts, and I am telling you to answer my calls of resignation from your miscast role as debate moderator. If you do not do so quickly and promptly, your face will be answering to the underside of my boot, and your teeth will be answering to a sharp fist. SNOOP Alix was right, man. You ain't no role model. You need to reevaluate and reeducate you life and your beliefs. You may got it up here (points to brain), but You ain't got it right here (points to heart). And until you got it there, you ain't got it at all. WRIGHT My. You have put me in place. I fear that my time in your presence has drawn to a close. But before I make my departure, head held low, self esteem held lower, let me say that you have given me something to think about. Now, allow me to give you something to think about as well. SNOOP What? WRIGHT This... (Christian shoves his podium at Snoop, knocking the startled Long Beach native to the floor! As boos fill the Saavis center air, Wright seeks to beat a hasty retreat! However his path is blocked by an ireful Alix Spezia! A well placed right hook sends the Upstart tumbling back to the ropes! The crowd quickly changes their tune as it looks like the snooty superstar is about to receive his just desserts! Alix surges forward, ready to tear his face off with a superkick! But The Meterosexual Monster, [b]Bohemoth[/b], appearing at the best possible moment, reaches into the ring and attempts to pull his friend towards safety! But his grip slips and he winds up causing more harm then good, staggering Wright towards Alix, who blasts him with that thunderous superkick! While the excited crowd roots on the move, he's knocked into the ropes, where he gets tangled like a fly caught in a bright orange spider web. To make a bad situation even more humiliating, Snoop Dogg and Alix join hands and lunge towards Wright! He's powerless to stop the unit as they amazingly double clothesline him clear out of the ring! Wright lands in Bo's arms and the hapless duo clumsily topples to the mats! The fans explode with ear shattering cheers and applause for Wright's comeuppance!) “SNOOP! SNOOP! SNOOP!” (Alix and Snoop celebrate their impressive achivement amidst the rambunctious ovation from the Saint Louis crowd, as Wright and Bo slink up the ramp. Wright offers a sullen Bo an earful for his embarassing folly.) COACH I..I..don't think that was supposed to happen. CABOOSE Hhahahaha! Your boy just got knocked out by a rapper who weighs like eighty pounds! Haaaha! What's the mother f'n name? Snoop Doggy Dogg! COACH While you may have the favor of celeberties and trailer trash divas, we have what's really important, the OAOAST World Title. CABOOSE It's too funny! Coach, you may well be the third most competent member of the Upstarts.

Did I ever tell you fine gentlemen that Tony La Russa, manager of the St.Louis Cardinals, spoke at my high school graduation? Anyway, Alix and Christian Wright will have a debate on the subject of role modeling with a special guest moderator/mediator/I should've researched what debates entail before I came up with this stupid skit.

There's not that many segments in, so this'll be easy to feedback! I liked how there was commentary from Jesse and Tony splashed throughout the show. Those two make excellent PPV MCs. Nice graphics as always. I thought for sure James Blonde and Faqu were gonna j-o-b. I figured they were just reintroduced to give GPX someone to beat up. But Zack, much like the time he showed up to my house in nothing but stiletto heels and bubble wrap, surprises me again! Who's the guy in the graphics who represents Blondie? The Ironman match was quite the good contest. I've never heard of NWA rules. What was the purpose of outlawing top rope moves? I think the barbwire bullrope was my favorite of the stipulations. Delightfully gruesome concept! Cole's excitement over Lindsay possibly getting punched in the face was funny in contrast to how I had him freak out when Wright stunnered Jade. The match may look long but it really read and went by pretty fast. A fun fifteen minutes. The Rodezing up bit was pretty cute. I already told Tony what I thought of his stuff. Good shit all around. The ending of the match was quite interesting, giving the Bruisers a legitimate gripe with the Rockers and OAOAST officials. I have an official answer to my question! Donald Trump owns the OAOAST! Hopefully we'll get that Donald Vs Martha match at AM Jesse hinted to. The main event was a good example of the semi-virtuous babyface overcoming the stacked deck set by the nefarious heels. And it had a very neat Anglemania-esque happy ending. Hooray! So will we see Zack going overseas to defend his newly won belt? Bring me back a souvenir!

Hmmmm. It's not too good. Sorry. Tony, you can edit anythang you'd like. The arena goes dark with the exception of an ominous [color=#800080][b]purple[/b][/color] light hanging across the entrance stage. The horrible, horrible, horrible, song that is [i]Chase[/i] reverberates from the Staples Center speakers, causing the boo birds to descend from their nest, and converge their hatred upon the appearing wrestlers, The Midnight Express. With Jim Cornette positioned behind them, Simon Singleton and Ned Blanchard stand at the top of the ramp, their sparkling vests shielding the impressive musculature they possess. Sneers etched across their faces, they stick their titles into the air, dead certain they'll be leaving the arena with them in their possession. As the camera shifts to Michael Buffer, the gentlemen, in cute little white tights, casually stroll to the ring. BUFFER The following contest is for the professional wrestling tag team titles, and has a pay per view time limit of sixty minutes! Introducing the champions being accompanied by Jim Cornette, first from Charleston, South Carolina, he weighs in at two hundred and twenty five pounds, he is The Sultan of Sarcasm, Simon Singleton! And his partner, from Beverly Hills, California, he is The Handsome Hustler, Ned Blanchard! Together they are three time tag team champions of the world, they are [color=#800080][b]THE NEW NEW MIDNIGHT EXPRESSSSSSSS![/color][/b] The audience makes no bones about expressing their displeasure for the Midnights, booing their hearts out at these hated villains. Simon simply jams his finger into his belt, his high handed way of letting the fans know who's the champ and who's not. Ned gets onto the ring apron, all his thoughts focused on the task of besting the mother of his child. Despite being a native of LA, Blanchard's crowd reception is so frosty it would make an Eskimo cold. COACH It's time to pay respect to the big guy, Axel! The man knows Chicks Over Dicks equals money, and he knows the Midnight Express equal money, put them together in a tag title match and what do you get? Big money! Time to recognize it, Boozy! CABOOSE Don't be dumb. Any monkey with access to a booking sheet could've thought to put these two together. COLE Well, these squads have more then their fair share of bad blood between them! Ned and Krista have a long history together that Alix and Simon have been dragged into. And it all comes to head here tonight for the tag team titles! Folks, don't forget that this Thursday from Saint Louis, Missoura, Alix Spezia and Christian Wright will meet in a debate over proper role modelling. That is if Christian is still able to talk after my man Zack is done with him! COACH Bitch, please. You talking crazy talk. Zack's got nothing on C-Dub. [i]Chase[/i] (thankfully) cut outs, and the only noise is now provided by the ear piercing screams of anticipation that are loud enough to send shivers down any man's spine. Rollicking chants of C-O-D are already the order of the day, as the audience impatiently awaits the arrival of their treasured hometown girls, Chicks Over Dicks. COLE Would you listen to the crowd? No question about it, LA is ready for their chicks! The sweetened strands that open pop sensation Britney Spear's [i]And then we kiss[/i] play, as a beautiful [color=red][b]red[/color][/b] pyro fountain rises forth from the stage. It meets with an equally lovely [color=#ff3366 ][b]pink[/color][/b] pyro waterfall, dropping from the ceiling. As the chorus of the song seeps into the ears of the OAOAST faithful, both the pyrotechnics dissipate, replaced by a booming [color=#ffff33][b]gold[/color][/b] explosion that consumes the entire stage! The doors pull slowly pull apart and through the foggy haze, steps the city of angels favorite daughters, Alix Maria Spezia and Krista Isadora Duncan. The decibel level of the rambunctious fans reaches a record breaking height at the sight of the ultra popular Californians! The girls strike a glorious pose at the top of the entranceway, Alix sinking to her knees in front of Krista who stands legs apart with her hand slid through her yellow locks. Poor Buffer does a number on his vocal chords, straining to be heard over the enraptured hollering... BUFFER And the challengers, being accompanied by Jade Rodez! First, she is the 2005 female wrestler of the year, Alix Maria Spezia(“YEAAAA”)! And her partner, she is the mind brilliant behind the best selling [i]FIT with KID[/i] exercise videos, she is Miss California Krista Isadora Duncan(“YEAAAA”) Together they are America's Sweethearts, and Los Angeles they are your very own....[color=#FF1493][b]CHICKS OVER DICKS[/b][/color]! 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 your new tag team champions...” proclamation at the end of the contest. Alix,outfitted in a glittering red halter top and matching hot mini skirt, rocks her body back and forth, whipping the audience into an even further frenzy. Krista, in her diamond studded black leather tank top and black pants, keeps her ocean blue eyes locked in deadly determination on The Handsome Hustler. COACH Damn. Krista needs the Coach in her life. I'm what's familiar. She's used to rolling with battery operated warriors. Well Coach is like Energizer, he just keeps going and going. Jade, wearing a black OAOAST hockey jersey and faded jeans, is awestruck by the noise level, soaking up as much of the delirious atmosphere as she possibly can. But her attention is quickly captured by the sleazy Ned Blanchard. Still fearful of the tag champion, she positions herself as far away from him as she can get. Krista assures her worried friend that everything will be ok, as the referee moves to get this match underway. [b]DING DING DING[/b] The bout begins with Alix Spezia and Simon Singleton. Unable to collect his thoughts over the deafening shouts of the excited audience, the normally cocksure Singleton is tentative in his movements, affording Alix a chance to draw first blood. Fueled by the same noise that hinders her foe's thought process, she bombards him with four wide left hooks to his ribs. The shots painfully jerk Simon out of his intimidated stupor and he returns fire with speedy right jabs. Every last one of his strikes comes hand in hand with a hearty round boos from the fans, who'd be more then thrilled just to see their gals win a quick squash. Sharing their feelings, Alix spiritedly interrupts Simon's jab fest with thudding punches of her own! The spectators react to each attack with the excitement and jubilation they'd display if they'd just witness The Dodgers win the world series. A praticuarly nasty left cross from Alix lands on Simon's cheek, awkwardly contorting the skin on his face, and leaving him dazed. Ally takes a hold of his arm and before he can regain his bearings, he's hurtling to the ring ropes! In the middle of his return, The Sultan composes himself and attempts to take out her legs with a baseball slide! Ally Cat avoids the sneaky tactic, leaping over Simon's full six feet and one inch, and carrying herself to the cables. Her return sees her bull towards Singleton, 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, Simon 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! While the fans and Jade bath her in applause, she rises to a full vertical base, then heads to the ropes once again. The elasticity's of the cables launch her and her lariat at Simon at full force! Avoiding what could be nose shattering move, he slinks bellow her attacking arm and dashes to the ropes, who are getting quite the workout! As he closes the distance gap between them, he slides into her in a wheelbarrow set-up. Having danced to this music before, Spezia nonchalantly catches him in her arms. Lulling him into a false sense of security, she permits the Sarcastic one to form the makings of a wheelbarrow bulldog. It's only at the height of the aerial move does she unveil her tricky plan. She lets go of his legs, then switches him into a modified wasitlock, moving incredibly quickly so as not to lose her grip. Left at the mercy of an unmerciful rival, Simon screams in horror as Alix falls backwards, and smashes him against the hard as granite canvas with a modified German Suplex! “LET'S GO ALIX! LET'S GO ALIX!” While Simon's left to writhe in misery on the mat, Ned Blanchard, ignoring the meek protests of referee Billy Silverman, interjects himself into the fray! The recipient of a strong chorale of boos, Ned plows towards Alix, zeroing in on our heroine with a viscous lariat! Much to his chagrin, Ally artfully sweeps underneath his arm. While his annoying miss clumsily staggers him forward, she darts off to the ropes. Clearly angered over having misfired, he whips around to pummel his returning enemy with a discus punch. Yet before he can even properly curl his fist, her tanned legs curl themselves around his thick neck in a vice grip worthy tightness. He soon experiences a feeling like he's being choked to death while riding a rollercoaster, as Ally's powerful legs take him for a nauseating spinning head scissors! CABOOSE As we can see the girls are really bringing it to Ned and Simon early on. COACH And and I can see, Alix needs to bring a hamburger or two to her stomach! Babygirl's looking fine, but she needs to get some meat on them bones! I gotta have little something to grab onto when I pull up to the bumper and smack that monkey. As Ned rolls out of ring begging for a barf bag, The Sultan, having recovered from his physical wounds, now tries to alleviate the scars to his pride by charging at Alix with a shoulder tackle! But mere seconds before Simon's muscular arm can pulverize Alix, Krista Isadora Duncan intercepts his incoming missile with a beautiful spring board blockbuster! Alix gets on her knees and worships her partner, and Kris promptly stands up and bows to her adoring the public. Before the match can degenerate into a total debacle in his enemies favor, Double S, clutching his hurt neck, frantically scampers out of the ring. “KRISTA! KRISTA! KRISTA! KRISTA!” Backs against the wall, an entire city turned against them, momentum nowhere near their side, and their tag title reign in mortal danger of meeting a fast demise, Ned and Simon do not reside in an enviable position, and no man realizes this depressing fact than Jim Cornette. Beads of nervous sweat shooting off his wrinkled forehead, Jimmy anxiously calls his hurting charges over to discuss strategy. While this huddle may be well intentioned, their being in a condensed group carries a catastrophic vulnerability seen by everyone but the men it affects the most. More then happy to exploit their hazardous position, Krista calls Jade, who's beside herself with delight to be included in the mayhem, into the squared circle. Operating in flawless concert with one another, the popular trio take several bounds to ropes to build speed for their planned high risk/high reward assault. As the girls near the edge of battleground, they vault through the sky, clearing the ropes, and extending their slender bodies out for majestic stereo swanton bombs! White flashes from the wealth of cameras decorate the arena, as a chilling terror drains all the blood from Cornette's pudgy face. Ned and Simon barely have a moment to register their advance, before the feminine bombs explode onto their landscape! “HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!” chant the crowd, people in the near front row pushing against each other, trying to acquire a better view of the fantastic carnage. COLE A triple swanton bomb, with little Jade Rodez getting in on the action! COACH Jade has no business getting involved in this match. If she wants to support Alix and Kris that's fine, but she just landed her entire body on Jim Cornette! Jim Cornette is an innocent bystander, he's just a manager, a coach. You can't attack a coach. I don't see Smush Parker randomly trying to body splash Avery Johnson! CABOOSE Coach, Jim Cornette should've known better to group them altogether like that. He was just setting them up for a dive to the outside. He has no one to blame but himself. Back in the ring, a slightly recovered Singleton wastes no time in assuming control of the fast-paced bout, ripping through Alix with a massive lariat! The savage shot aids the anti-NNMX crowd in finding their voice. They plaster The Sultan with chants of “Pissbreak Singleton! Pissbreak Singleton!”, throwing in rhythmic clapping after each Singleton to make the insults more musical. Put off by the witless barbs, Si stares daggers at every audience member he can lay his blue eyes on, as he pulls Alix into a standing head scissors. His arms clamp around her slim waist, and he soon foists her into the air for a powerbomb. However Alix is more then capable of defeating what's normally a devastating move. The mega hottie agilely peels off to his side, dips to the mat and stuns him with an arm drag that nearly yanks the limb out of it's socket. Rubbing his sore arm, Simon groggily rises, glancing around desperately for any way out of the ring. Unfortunately the only the exit that comes to him is a rocky trip through the black cables thanks to a crowd popping [i]dropsault[/i] by Alix! Dazed and unsure of what just hit him, he slowly stands up on the apron, while Alix ascends to the top turnbuckle. With The Staples Center crowd boisterously rooting her on, the darling Miss Spezia flings herself off the padding, and twists in midair, catching her legs around Simon's neck and snatching the alarmed grappler off the apron with a beautiful hurricanrana to the outside! Double S lands face first in a quivering heap at the base of the apron, while Alix artistically tumbles backwards, waving to the raucous fans who sing, “ALIX! ALIX! ALIX!” With Alix and Simon taken out of the ring, the capacity crowd is blessed with the chance to witness the grandiose matchup their hearts have been lusting to see for over a year. The matchup between Ned Blanchard and Krista Isadora Duncan. Encompassed by an ensemble of chants for the woman he wronged so many years ago, Ned cockily struts across the ring, meeting her icy stare with an audacious smirk. Krista turns to Jade, who offers a word of encouragement, and nods. Then she issues a full throated roar that dares her old flame to come and take his best shot. Ned snarls back, accepting this defiant invite, and runs at her with a clothesline! To the fan's pleasure, Krista catches his attacking arm and flips him through the air with a hiptoss! However the audience's joy sinks to disappointment as the hunky grappler lands solidly on his black shoes. He turns his head towards a dismayed Krissy, and outrages her with an insolent kissy face before trying a hip toss of his own! Yet Krista shows that all is fair in love, war, and hip tosses, frustrating him by landing on [i]her[/i] feet. Now it's her turn to aggravate him with an audacious kissy face that pops the standing crowd! COACH See? She still wants the Ned man. I call sloppy seconds, Nedster! COLE Good luck with that. Folks, the winners of this match move onto Anglemania to face the winner of the Anderson Cup finals. And I'll be calling that affair with none other then Jesse “The Body” Ventura! I can't wait. Smitten with rage over being one-upped by the woman who always seems to do everything better then he, Ned attempts to decapitate her with the familiar clothesline. But Kris knows Ned like she knows the back of her hand and saw the move coming miles away. Thus she sinks down, hooks her arm between his crotch and pulls him into a standing fireman's carry position. Because his body is already in mid move the only thing Ned can do is allow Krista to take him onto his shoulders, and pray Simon is on his way to free him from this perilous spot. Uttering a growl that cascades shivers down Ned's cowardly spine, Krissy spins Ned out to her side, so that he's facing the beige canvas, then pulls him down, forcing him to endure a gruesome face first meeting with her outstretched knee! The loud smack of the stud muffin's nose colliding with her leather pants echoes throughout the venue and becomes sweet music to the spectators' ears. CABOOSE Ned and Simon have been unable thus far to weather the early storm brought on by the girls. Thanks to the adrenaline supplied by all their fans, Al and Krista have been able to use the champs as crash test dummies for their ping-pong ball offense. Ned, squealing in pain and terror, quickly lifts himself to a vertical base. The defending champion is bestowed no respite as Krista draws close with a running body splash. But Ned, aided by his strength advantage, overtakes her, hooking onto her neck and pushing her down so that he may grind her attack to screeching halt with a front facelock. Miss Califorina, unlike the crowd who let out a gasp of alarm, is undeterred by the elementary submission hold. Gritting her teeth, she hooks her arm around Ned's free arm, then uses that clutch as a base to spin out of the front facelock! As the fans her applaud her impressive counter, she makes an effort to floor a surprised Ned with a short arm clothesline! But the fellow SoCal native recovers from his moment of shock just in time to whirl behind her and hit a rear waistlock. Never one to pass up an opportunity to put his mac down on a bonafide hottie, Neddy Bear begins to furiously pump his little engine that could into her curvy caboose! “BOOOOOOO!” goes the crowd, although we can't be certain if they're booing because they believe Ned's actions to be deplorable or because they wish they were in his position. COACH Go on, Hustler! You drive a Cadillac, wear a perm cuz you a G, and you a mother fuc**** P-I-M-P! Krista, like the viewers, is aghast with indignation. Thus she ends the Handsome Hustler's brief foray into the world of simulated anal sex, by whipping behind him in snagging him with her own rear waistlock. As dense and sexually deviant as always, a thrilled grin passes over Ned's lips, as he actually believes she's about to return the favor with some kinky assplay of her own! Yet Blanchard's broad smile quickly morphs into panicked frown as the best selling author breaks her waist lock and lifts him into sky in a backsuplex position! The crowd loudly roars in anticipation for what's coming and the fitness queen doesn't dare disappoint, nearly castrating the three time tag champion with an inverted atomic drop! “K-I-D! K-I-D! K-I-D!” Shaken and miserable, The Hustler stumbles forward, clenching his little warriors, making sure her cruel move hasn't shattered his prized possessions. Perhaps sniffing blood in the air, and sensing a chance to avenge five years of misery, Krista scorches towards Ned like a blond bat out of hell, wraps her hands around his neck, and cruelly snaps it with a reverse neckbreaker! While Ned emits an agony filled groan, she reaches forward to hook his leg for a pinfall CROWD & JADE ONE! CROWD & JADE TWO But Ned pulls his shoulder off the mat leading the boo birds to return in full force. Krista casts an ugly look towards Ned for his resilience, as she strides forward and plants a nasty kick into the top of his cranium. Grabbing strands of Ned's golden hair, she roughly yanks him upright and attempts an irish whip. However Ned finds the wherewithal within him to reverse it and sends Krista hurtling to the cables. She returns with hopes of a spinning head scissors, but Ned, as he's apt to do, crushes another one of her dreams with a pendulum backbreaker. Rather then push her off his outstretched knee, Ned keeps her on his body as he throws a knowing look towards an apron based Simon. Without so much as a word exchanged between them, The Sultan scales to the top rope. Moving fast, as a thrashing Krista is in grave danger of breaking his partner's fragile grip, Singleton comes off the turnbuckle with a leg drop! His meaty limb connects with her neck, driving her back to the mat and crushing her throat between it's substantial weight! There's a grotesque snap and Krista lets out such a horrible cry of anguish that for a moment Simon actually feels a pang of pity for her. Ned on the other hand couldn't care less about the mother of his child's safety, and gruffly ushers Simon out of the ring as he pins her. ONE TWO Ned's title retention hopes are momentarily dashed as Krista jerks her shoulder up, pleasing the rabid Staples Center fans! The Handsome Hustler pushes himself to his feet, then coils a hand around Kris' lush golden locks, and hauls her upright. With a sneer on his face and a burning desire to break more then just her heart, Ned launches her across the squared circle and into the turnbuckles. Her back hits the pads with a repulsive impact that sends her involuntarily stumbling forward. Not wanting to give the bombshell a single moment to rest, Ned closes in on her with a graceful bodysplash! But Alix, Jade, and the audience are delighted to see Krissy, with one almighty effort, dive out of the way, leaving Blanchard's tightly toned stomach to be mangled by the unforgiving ringpost steel! CABOOSE Every move that Krista does to Ned hurts just a little bit more then normal because of who she is. And vice versa. COACH Where's the love and support for Ned? He's from LA! Ungrateful morons, that's why you're stuck with the Last Action Hero as your govenor. Because you're blinded by glitz and glamour, and you don't see substance. Alix and Krista are glitzy and glamorous and Hollwood, but Ned's the meat. He's the substance. Operating more on instinct then any actual thought, Krista sees Ned's vulnerability and swiftly moves to act on it before it expires. She bolts towards him at full speed, taking to the air and lengthening her body to it's full five feet and ten inches with a cross body block! But Ned's reaction time is quick, and he easily catches her in his arms! On the apron Alix watches on in a combination of horror and distress, as Blanchard plunges downward and smashes Krista's frame into the canvas with a savage fall forward slam. Hovering above Izzy, he directs a sleazy kiss Jade's way, which she reacts to with terrified shuddering. While the audience jeers and boos him, The Hustler reaches over and hooks Krista's leg, eager to dispose of this abomination he once called a lover. ONE TWO Krista kicks out in authoritative fashion, generating a cheer from the crowd and Jade. Blanchard slams the mat in sheer anger, seemingly drained of ways to put down his pesky ex-girlfriend. Ned doesn't quite relent however, moving to tag in Simon for something Krista was never fond of while they were dating, a bit of spicy MMF action. Blanchard whips her to the cables, while Singleton crisscrosses her, taking careful pains as to not collide with her and ruin their intricately designed move. As Miss California returns to Neddy Bear, he laces his boots around her legs, and drives her down with a drop toe hold. Although Krista was capable of getting her hands up to shield her gorgeous visage, she's unable to defend herself against Simon's portion of the attack, a hideous basement dropkick to the side of her head! While the audience reacts negatively to the cringe worthy strike, Singleton drapes his arm across Izzy's heaving chest, counting along as the official's hand slaps the mat. ONE TWO Krista lifts her arm upwards at two and a half. Singleton, visibly perturbed, glares at the zebra through the mess of curly sun soaked strands that cloak his face. Upon shifting his anger back towards his foe, he pulls her up by the back of her neck and begins to treat her face like an Everlast punching bag, peppering it with a melody of stinging jabs. Pleased with the damage he's wrought, he holds Krista out in front of him by her luscious hair, and smugly enrages an already hostile crowd by asking“How do you like her now?” To which they, led by Jade Rodez, respond with a feverish chant of “[b][color=#FFD700]PISSBREAK[/color][/b] SINGLETON! [b][color=#FFD700]PISSBREAK[/color][/b] SINGLETON!” CABOOSE One thing that you may not have noticed is that Jim Cornette, since the swanton bomb incident, has been all but invisible. Jade, on the other hand, has been an active cheerleader for her group. The Sultan sucks KID into a tightly applied front facelock. As Alix shouts out cheers of encouragement, Kris takes up the monumental task of raging against his hold, tugging at his iron like arms to wade off the mounting tension. But she can't peel them away long enough to break free or even breathe comfortably for that matter. Si soon makes her all her rebellious efforts for naught, using a [i]DDT[/i] to blast her to mat with carefully calculated force. Krista lets out a resonant cry that seems capable of leveling the ring with it's volume. And it feels to Simon, as he pins her, that the squared circle is trembling as a result. ONE TWO The SoCal Beauty defiantly kicks out, leaving an exasperated Singleton to direct a menacing stare Silverman's way. While the ref shyly holds up two fingers, Krista expends a great deal of energy by standing up on her own power. Double S instantly pounces on her, clamping down with another front facelock. Feeling the pooling warmth of pain around her neck, Krista wildly fights back, shifting her position and getting an Irish Whip. But the cagey veteran sees this coming and reverses the motion to send her bouncing off the ropes. As she returns to the center of the ring, Simon throws up his leg for a superkick, but she evades the deathly move by rolling underneath it and continuing her run of the ropes. After she returns from the opposite cables, Singleton hits his deadly mark with a majestic leg lariat! “LET'S GO KRISTA! LET'S GO KRISTA!” bleat the crowd, led on by Jade and Alix. Double S buries the under sole of his boot deep into Krista's back, causing the fitness queen to spasm in pain. Three more brutal stomps follow, each accompanied by those disheartening convulsions. Simon ceases his stomping, now possessing a devilish intent to shatter her neck with a German Suplex. He hauls her up into a snug rear waistlock, and makes certain to pull her away from Alix, so that the bubbly brunette can't interfere in his plans. The Sultan raises her into the air, then dives backwards, executing a mammoth [i]suplex[/i]! While the fans react with cringes and cries, the extraordinary force of the move carries Krista upright and directs her staggering body towards Simon and Ned's corner. Always looking for an excuse to inflict as much pain as possible on Krista, Ned leans over the ropes and rudely slugs her in the back of the head with a forearm! Not only does this cheap shot give rise to an ear splitting orchestra of boos, but it appears to light a passionate fire underneath Krista. Straining to see through the streams of hot sweat that obscure her vision, she lunges at him with a straight left cross. However The Hustler eludes her questing hands by quickly leaping off the ring apron, leaving his attacker to awkwardly crash against the ropes. As Ned grins on the outside, the hazy diva wobbles into a neckbreaker from Simon! Upon seeing his vanquished adversary sprawl across the mat in defeat, Simon scurries to cover her and make this victory official. ONE TWO Krista just barely gets her shoulder up, prolonging this match for just a bit longer. Simon stands up, bringing Krista along with him, his grip on her head tightening by the second, a symbol his rapidly increasing frustration. Sneering like a madman, his piercing eyes gaze across the ring, trying to uncover a way to use the environment to his advantage. Peering at Krissy's weary face, he's struck with a treacherous scheme. Soon he showcases his plot to the world, dragging Krista to his corner and violently ramming her face against the second turnbuckle pad. Watching Krista sink to the mat in white hot pain, Ned decides he wants to resume his most cherished past time, making her life a miserable hell. A quick tag is made, and a chuckling Blanchard hits the ring. He immediately leaps on her weakened state, blasting her with the most hate filled stomps he's ever thrown. At Simon's urging Ned scrapes Krista's weakened body off the mat, putting a firm and insulting grasp on her round tush as he does so. Chants of “Let’s go Krista” get louder and louder but Ned absolutely refuses to grant the fan favorite an opportunity to make a comeback. Grabbing the top of her wrist, he propels her into the cables. When she returns, Ned foists her into the arena sky with an impressive gorilla press slam set up! This not so subtle affirmation of who wears the pants in the family elicits a chaotic splash of jeers from the fans, who urge Krista to turn against his hold. Dripping with perspiration, Krista pits her meager escape effort against Ned's almost casual display of power. But her valiant bid for freedom ultimately proves hopeless in the face of Ned's sizable strength. He drops her across his shoulders, then spins her in front of him, and splatters her across the beige canvas with a spine buster! Tentatively, fearfully, Jade and Alix recoil, stricken with concern for Krista's welfare. Caught up in a fit of delirious chortling and self satisfaction for his mammoth move, Ned drapes his arm across his whimpering ex-lover's chest. ONE TWO COLE This should be it, sadly. Driven by a frantic energy Alix storms into the ring and uses her shoe to break up the count! As cheers return to the venue, a riled up Blanchard rises and attempts to bust Alix with right cross! But referee Billy Silverman gets in between the two superstars before they can properly come to blows. While the official ushers and agitated Spezia back to her station, Blanchard makes a speedy dash for the ropes. In an unusual display of aerial showmanship that Simon is imploring him not to take, he springs to the third rope, then launches himself across the ring with a lionsault! While the move appears to be wonderfully graceful, Simon's misgivings prove to be well stated, as Krissy rolls out of the way at the last possible second! The hurt and humiliation from his folly is streaked across Ned's face in vibrant, bold letters, as his arms instantly wrap around his six packed stomach. CABOOSE Big mistake right there! Her mind shrouded in agonizing haze, the knockout slowly stands up, unsure of what course of action to take next. This seconds indecision proves costly as Ned gets a measure of revenge, flooring Izzy with his arm that's not clutching his aggravated ribs. Miss California hits the mat hard, her neck taking the brunt of the disgusting landing. “LET'S GO KRISTA! LET'S GO KRISTA!” Ned circles her, eyes narrowing into sinister slits and drool oozing out of the corner of his lips as he sizes up his tantalizing prey. He can't control the giddy euphoria that's filled him over the prospect of being able crush what's left of her brutalized spirit. Amidst Blanchard's unending taunting, the surfer chick finds the requisite energy to push herself to her feet. However there's whole second before she's fully balanced. That brief second is all Blanchard needs to bear into her with a shoulder block. Krista, drawing on her last ounce of strength, stuns him, Jade, the crowd, Alix, and even herself by leaping onto his shoulders for a victory roll! Not wanting to lose control of the match, a suddenly panic stricken Ned steps forward and lets Krista slide right off his upper body. Unfortunately she lands on her feet, facing him while he’s facing away from her. This means that she's in the perfect spot to cause him immeasurable damage, and he's in a horrible spot to do anything about it. Miss California grabs his arm and violently twirls him around so that they stand face to face. Blanchard has zero time to react before Krista sticks her shoe into his gut, doubling him over. She latches onto his head then spins him like a merry-go-round with a tornado DDT! However Ned is somehow able to squirm free in midair, preventing the potentially neck breaking move from succeeding. He goes briefly off balance, teetering back several inches. With his arrogance and confidence as intact as ever, the recuperated stud takes an ill advised charge towards Krista with a lariat. Light in her eyes stoked to full fire, the bombshell goes airborne, heading straight up like a rocket. As Ned nears, she extends her legs, and drives her boot into the back of his cranium, obliterating his skull with a [b]90210 enziguri[/b]! Ned's knocked head over heels, plummeting to the mat in chaotic fashion. [b]“YEAAAAAAAA!”[/B] COACH First she steals his child, then she steals his trademark move! CABOOSE It looks like that might have taken something out of Krista as well! His desire to torture Krista taking a momentary backseat to a primal urge to survive, Blanchard rolls away, creating some much needed distance between he and his resurgent old flame. As Caboose pointed out, Krista seems to be swimming against an agonizing current, the duress she's under making her crawl to her corner an extremely arduous one. Alix, sensing that she's COD best chance to capture the gold, furiously beats on the turnbuckle, trying to rally her fallen partner. Soon, Jade and the entire crowd join in, stamping their feet in unison, sending encouraging noises to Krista's frayed heart. Drawing on their heartwarming show of support, Kris, face steeled with gritty determination, digs her nails into the canvas, and desperately claws her way to the corner. Suddenly Ned stirs, giving rise to concerned gasps from the crowd. Unwilling to ever let Krista truly be free, he locks his hand around her ankle, trying his hardest to freeze her in place. Despite Blanchard's tight lockdown, Alix's unwavering encouragement sparks Krista to fight past the cutthroat thug. With one titanic lunge, she surges forward make a hot tag to her perky partner! [b]”YEAAAAAAAAA!”[/B] The fans are euphoric as the other hometown girl renters the warzone! Singleton makes his unwanted presence felt, entering the ring and taking a crazed dash at Alix! But much to Jade and the fan's glee, Ally Cat easily disposes of him with her trademark [i]dropsault[/i]! Throwing an agile twist into her famous move, she lands perfectly onto her feet. Beaming with joy, she blows kisses to her cheering fanbase, while an undetected Ned sneaks up behind her. The Handsome Hustler seizes his moment to strike and draws both the extreme ire and envy of the fans by vigorously squeezing and jiggling Alix's silicone milk wagons, and moaning in unbridled ecstasy as he does so! COLE Oh for the love of Pete! This clown is out of control! COACH Hell yeah, son! Live the dream, Ned Man! Milkshake brings all the boys to the yard! Through with his tawdry sexual harassment, Ned attempts to turn his ten seconds of pleasure into Alix's lifetime of misery, by lifting her up and throwing her backwards with a German Suplex! But the speedy warrior keeps her title hopes alive, back flipping her way out of disaster. Unaware that Alix isn't suffering the horrible after affects of his suplex, Ned rises, and immediately takes up the task taunting Jade with despicable hip swivels. Jade, however, keeps her temper in check, and merely suggests he turn around. Dumbfounded, the champion follows her instructions, and has his view engulfed by Alix's elongated body crashing into him with a cross body block! She pushes him down to the mat, but the worry stricken grappler uses his own momentum in his favor and rolls through the move. Silverman dutifully drops to his knees to count a pin. However Ned's keenly aware that it will take more then a flash pin to shipwreck her title quest. Thus he stands up with her cradled in his arms. He swings her out to the side for a modified rock bottom! The fans prepare themselves for the worst, but Alix assuages their anxiety, grabbing hold of Blanchard's head, and smoothly spiking it into the ring floor with a DDT! “ROCK N ROLL FOREVAAAAAA, MOTHER TRUCKERS!” Alix screams as she jams on her air guitar, getting another “LET'S GO ALIX!” chant from her fellow Angelinos. Ned stands up rather quickly given the dizzying ordeal he just stomached. Despite his groggy state, he explodes to life, pasting Alix with a series of bitter right forearms. Upon ending this uncontested onslaught, The Hustler whips her to a vacated corner. He watches her slam into the padding backfirst, as he follows her in, destruction on his mind. But the only one getting destroyed here is him, as the chocolate haired babe sidesteps his blitz! Blanchard has a nasty meeting with the turnbuckles, but the pain has nary a second to register in his mind before he has Alix descending on him like some kind of tanned beach goddess with a body splash. He leaps clear out the way, confident she'll suffer the same unfortunate fate as he. But she actually manages to land flawlessly on the second rope, popping the audience and driving him mad in the process. Even more distressing is that she flips at him with a moonsault press! However, instead of squishing him to the mat as is customary, she choses to turn her move into an [i]inverted ddt[/i]! But Neddy Bear squashes that scheme, surprising her with a sudden snap mare! The moments shock that move bought is all the champ needs to take her back first onto his shoulder, and hook her legs and necks. Mortally frightened, she squirms mightily against his grasp, but this insurrection simply makes him more determined to punish her. He releases her legs and throws her body into the air, as he starts to sit out in preparation for the finish of his [i]psycho driver[/i]. Yet our heroine eludes certain doom with a graceful backflip towards freedom! The Ned Man lands on his ass empty handed and with a basement dropkick heading to his face! [b][color=#FF0000]KRAAAAAACK[/color][/B] COLE The Handsome Hustler isn't so handsome now! Alix stands at Ned's side, and bounces her cute little wabbit tail up and down, kicking the fans hormones into overdrive, and tail spinning Jimmy C into a hissy fit! After her saucy display concludes Alix takes to the sky and rotates backwards, landing on Ned with a flashy standing moonsault. The referee hits the mat to count the resulting pinfall, but barely makes it past one before Cornette finally makes himself useful and puts Blanchard's foot on the ropes. “BOOOOOOOOOO” COACH What do these people expect him to do? He's not here for moral support! He's here to win, baby boy! Openly fuming, Ally Cat rises, ready to eliminate the meddlesome Louisville nuisance. However she's cut off by a clubbing forearm from a previously unnoticed Simon Singleton. With The Sultan now registered on her radar, Alix spins to deck him with a discus punch. But the fast moving starlet isn't quick enough to beat the fast hands of Si, who contracts her into a front facelock. Simon succeeds in lifting her with a basic vertical suplex. Unfortunately that minor success is the [i]only[/i] success he'll have, as Alix slips out of his hold, landing behind him and making sure to apply an advantageous rear facelock. Spezia swiftly twists their bodies around, forcing them to face each other and morphing her rear facelock into a front facelock. From there she sends Simon's body bending and twisting with a roll the dice! Double S' brawny neck awkwardly snaps off the mat, and he instantly bellows in severe anguish. CABOOSE Many wrestlers have weak necks to begin with, so a high impact move that targets the neck will be extra lethal. The pitiful cries from his friend rouse Ned from his lethargy and lift the long since written off superstar off the canvas. Blanchard billows towards Alix with a thunderous lariat, but she ducks the strike with unsettling ease. Having grown bored with venting her rage on two opponents, the lovely lady decides to kill two birds with one stone and hurt both gentlemen at the same time. As such she attaches herself to Ned with a full nelson, then slings his entire body forward like a shoebox with a her finisher [b]The Midnight Motivation[/b](full nelson facecrusher)! A deafening ovation bounces from the stands as Blanchard's large mellon lands precisely on Simon's minuscule unit! A distressed Singleton wildly howls into the night sky, as Ned's mouth looks to be permanently lodged against his frank n'beans. COLE (muttering to himself) Ned Blanchard, you lucky devil. What I wouldn't give to trade spots with you. Alix mercifully covers Simon. Silverman, who hasn't a clue as to who the legal man, makes what everyone believes will be the match ending count! CROWD 1 CROWD 2 CROWD BOOOOOOOOOO! What's responsible for this negativity? Jim Cornette has positioned himself on the apron, and like clockwork the official has been distracted by his presence. Every last person in the Staples Center pelts the manager of champions with a variety of vulgarities, but he revels in the negative attention. That is until Jade Rodez decides to physically address his troublesome efforts! She marches over to his position, and yanks him clear of the apron, leading the fans to cheer her gumption. Cornette, on the other hand, is downright appalled that this eighteen year old valet would show such blatant disrespect for an unmatched wrestling legend like he. Thus it's with no second thoughts that he SLAPS her across the cheek! The onlookers oooh in response, assured that Jimmy's just secured himself a good ass whupping. An enraged Jade, a red handprint on her face, doesn't dare let these fans down, kicking Corny in the stomach, and scrambling his brains with a DDT onto the outside mats! “JADE! JADE! JADE!” chant the fans, as the recipient of their love triumphantly pumps her fists into the air. COLE Hot dog! That a girl! CABOOSE [i]Hot dog[/i]? Meanwhile, Ned, the one champion still standing, doesn't appear to give two hoots towards the plight of his possibly concussed manager. His attention is singularly centralized on his brawl with Alix, in which both competitors seem more then willing to knock the other back to the ice age. After three of his jabs go unanswered, Ned gains the confidence to fire precision strikes down on Alix's noggin. However Ally ends the lopsided nature of the brawl, with a frantic burst of energy and ups the ante with a few painful elbow shots to the nose. The crowd cheers each one of her punches, as Ned is reeling under her uncharacteristic striking offense. But The Hustler battles back with a snapping jab, then follows that weak blow with a more dangerous left cross. However Ally Cat leaps with a wide right that smacks Ned along the cheekbone before his own punch can connect! Looking to protect his rapidly swelling mug, Blanchard turns his back to his unrelenting rival only to meet up with the acrimonious stare of Krista Isadora Duncan! With the crowd chanting her name, Krista buries a boot into Ned's bread basket, doubling the champ over. She leaps onto his expansive back, and uses it as launching pad to shoot herself into the air. Hurt, bewildered, and outright fearful of his vengeful ex, Ned lifts himself upright, wondering where she vanished to. At which point her shapely legs lock around his neck, and their glorious strength rip him off his feet with an audience pleasing hurricanrana! “K-I-D! K-I-D! K-I-D!” bleat the onlookers. “CAN A BITCH GET A HANDCLAP?!” Krista asks the raucous spectators, as she rises to her feet. Indeed she can, Krista! But she can also get clothesline to the face courtesy of The Sultan of Sarcasm! Or can she? No she can't because Krista grabs onto his stocky thighs and levitates him straight into the air. Extended upright like he going for the world's highest leapfrog, Simon is caught unawares, and simply looks on in confusion as Miss California darts underneath him. He travels towards Alix where he wraps his legs around her shoulder, hoping to hit the ever popular hurricanrana! But no such luck strikes him as she shifts his momentum downward and bashes his back into the canvas with a sit-out powerbomb! The official is right there to make the count! CROWD ONE CROWD TWO Ned ends the pinfall with a dropkick to Alix's back, eliciting an unsettled groan from the lips of the audience members. Seeing this, Krista lets out a roar that could rattle every window within a four mile radius, as she pounces on Ned with quick fisted fury! After her hail of punches ceases, she grabs onto to Blanchard's arm and hurls him to the ropes! The Handsome Hustler has the good sense to take a dive through the cables and avoid further well deserved thrashings! But unfortunately that leaves poor Simon to catch the brunt of the chicks' ill temper! Alix scoops him up and sends him for ride to orange ropes. Playing an unwitting part in their show of dominance, he bounces back to have Alix blast him with an enziguri and Krista to cut him down with a leg sweep, their double team finisher [b]The Carpet Biter[/b]. “C-O-D! C-O-D! C-O-D!” Before any pin can be made, Ned storms back into the ring and surprises Alix by chucking her over the top rope. Needless to say this doesn't sit well with Krista who promptly caves in his face with a crowd thrilling superkick in response! CABOOSE I think Ned and Simon are about have another short title reign! COLE I wish I could share that sentiment but something is up, Boo-Boo! The audience's attention becomes diverted, and their mood significantly worsens when they spot HI-YAH heavyweight champion [b]Christian Wright[/b] journeying to ringside. There looks to be one single underhanded thought on his mind, as the devious star nears the battlefield. He brandishes his shimmering title, preparing to enter the ring and use it to wallop his newfound enemies in Chicks Over Dicks. But Jade Rodez, showing admirable boldness, refuses let any harm come to her friends and leaps onto Wright's back! The fans give off a huge pop, thinking this will signal a short end to Wright's unwelcome presence. But to the man himself she's merely a minor inconvenience, one effortlessly brushed aside by a piggy back stunner! Jade flops onto her back, submerged in an all-embracing blackness. “BOOOOOOOOO!” COLE How could he do that? That's an eighteen year old girl! And look at him smiling. You're real proud of yourself, aren't you? You jerk! Hysterical with anger over what just transpired, Krista starts to go through the ropes in order to give a smirking Wright a sound beating. However a slight tug on her pants stops her dead in her tracks! Soon that slight tug, applied by Ned Blanchard, pulls her back to the mat in a pinning position! The referee, not detecting Ned's fistful of tights and the fact that Wright's holding his boot for leverage, actually counts the pin! Alix tries to bust up the pinfall, but a semi recovered Singleton grabs onto her legs as if his title reign's life depended on it! The count continues unabated. ONE TWO COLE Damn it, no! THREE [b][color=#696969]DING DING[/color][/b] The fans immediately chant, “BULLSHIIIITTT! BULLSHIIIIT!” as [i]Chase[/i] returns to torment ears across the globe! COLE I can't believe it! The incensed audience comes completely unhinged. Robbed of their chance to see their hometown heroines win their second tag team titles, they attack the ring with a deluge of boos, debris, and unrestrained vehemence. Ringside attendants have to scatter lest they be hit with one of the many pieces of trash pouring into the arena floor. Even Michael Buffer can't make the official announcement, for he has to find a way to avoid beer cups, and nacho containers. Meanwhile, Wright, exuding contemptuous arrogance, saunters back up the ramp, chuckling at COD's and Jade's misfortune. CABOOSE This doesn't surprise me at all. Typical way of the Upstarts. The girls got screwed. COACH Wouldn't be the first time today. I know that for a fact, baby boy! :lol: Simon gathers up both belts, and gets the hell out of town, unwilling to tempt lady luck after she's been so generous. Ned, now outside, lingers about, blowing a kiss to a knocked out Jade, condescendingly asking various medical officials if she'll be okay. Krista rushes to Jade's aid, managing the onerous task of ignoring Blanchard's spiteful insults, as she checks on her hurt friend. Ally stays in the ring, giving Silverman an earful about his glaring incompetence. COACH As The Upstarts representative here at Sofa Central, allow me to offer congrats to the finest tag team in pro wrestling, Ned Blanchard and Simon Singleton! What men! What warriors! Little Maya should be proud to have a father like Ned. And these people from LA are classless. So your team didn't win? That's no reason to make the ring look like a garbage dump! This would never happen in Northern California. COLE The Midnight Express stole one, Coach! How do you expect the fans to act? If it wasn't for the cheating of Christian Wright and Ned Blanchard, this place would be rocking! Poor Jade Rodez. Christian Wright, what kind of human being are you? He makes me sick. How can someone who claims to be a champion of moral conduct help a scumbag like Ned Blanchard? Christian Wright, you can just go to hell! I hope Zack kicks your ass, jerk!

Popick you are a true artist.

(Backstage we see Christian Wright, outfitted in the finest of Nordstrom bought suits, standing in front the Chicks Over Dicks dressing room. It appears that Wright, who's holding a baseball bat, has enlisted the services of one of our cameras to take part in whatever convoluted scheme he's cooked up.) CHRISTIAN WRIGHT Salutations to my loyal viewing audience! It is I, Christian Wright, maven of morality, emperor of ethics, and champion of chastity! I have commandeered this recording apparatus for purposes that I must confess are not entirely innocent in their nature. But while the morally numbed mind of the layman may see my future actions as deplorable and unfitting of a man of my upstanding constitution, those who look past the shallow surface shall see that my motives are steeped in unwavering virtue! In fact, I, the OAOAST moral high-ground, HI-YAH heavyweight champion of the world, and soon to be defeater of Zack Malibu, Christian Wright, have dutifully prepar... MARTY THE CAMERA MAN (off screen because he's holding the camera. Duh!) Man, get to the point, it's only a two hour show! WRIGHT Then what remains of that two hours will be tirelessly devoted to showcasing my crusade against the perversion of ethics put forth by the harlots who lie behind this door, Chicks Over Dicks! My sad hours have stretched into tortured days as I still feel the virulent sting of the disgraceful slap Alix Spezia laid upon my fair skin. The wound she struck against my person has descended into the deepest bays of my agonized soul, imploring me to take wrathful vengeance against this sexually indiscriminate bimbo. Follow me, Martin, as I, OAOAST moral highground, HI-YAH Heavyweight Champion, and soon to be defeater of Zack Malibu, Christian Wright, see fit to slay this profaner of the OAOAST. MARTY (mumbling) I knew I shouldn't have dropped out of law school. (While Marty contemplates quietly setting the camera and making a run for it, Christian Wright, baseball bat in tow, barges into the dressing room. Immediately he's greeted by the saucy aroma of southwestern food wafting up his nostrils. The alluring scents temporarily disarm the snobbish villain as he gazes around the room. Unfortunately [i]we[/i] can't gaze around the room, because Marty, ever the cheeky little monkey, has decided to focus the camera's attention on Alix Spezia BUTT. However thanks to the prodding of Wright, Marty eventually reshifts his focus from Alix's tushy, to rest of the locker room. We're able to see that Al and Los Diablos De Fuego have expertly converted the spacious area into an efficiently run makeshift kitchen! Wearing cute little matire'd outfits, Los Diablos scurry about the room, sprinkling seasoning in various pots and performing various culinary tasks. Alix seems to be the brains behind this operation, outfitted in a chef's hat and an apron that reads Kiss me I'm Irish. Which isn't true. She's actually half Italian and half Spanish. Krista is nowhere to be seen. Smart woman.) MARIACHI Hola, Senor! ALIX Hey a visitor who's not from INS! Hi there! Can I help ya? WRIGHT (pointing his bat at Alix) Prepare yourself, vile seductress, for an occurrence of utmost import draws near! ALIX Oh! You discovered the location of Eisenhower's brain! Goodie! Come on boys let's get our shovels, we've got diggin' to do! WRIGHT Stay in your places, flea bags! Alix Spezia, do you not recognize the resentful face of the man you've sinned against? ALIX Oh, I remember you. Yessir. Ya know, Lee-Lee tried to talk to me about you. Boy, did he get worked up! Something about exposing him as a pornstar, smashing a lava lamp over his head, costing him his X division title, whatever. I just had to say; Ya know, I'm sure it's a really sad story, babe, but this bed is only gonna vibrate for two more minutes before I gotta drop in another quarter. So why don't you make like Elvis and have a little less conversation, so we can make like Marvin Gaye and starting getting it on, because I feel like Barry White 'cause I can't get enough of your love, baby. But, yeah, he didn't have many nice things to say aboutcha, dude. Unless “shit eating, pole smoking, asshole” is some new kinda compliment I haven't been tipped off to. WRIGHT (chuckling to himself) Yes, your “Lee-Lee” and I have had our share of skirmishes, as it were. Though I must confess, he often tends to be the party emerging with the scrapes and scars of a sound thrashing! ALIX Uh-huh. I know we got off to a hella bad start with you killing the heat of my rockin' segment two weeks ago by saying a bunch of words no one understood, and calling me a tramp and all that. And I'm pretty sure I have the right to be super mad at you, but what the world needs now is love, sweet love. And although I could probably never love someone quite as dorky as you, I would be willing to let you be my sugar daddy. While I won't have sex with you, you should feel free to buy me lots of expensive stuff. Ya know, I figure the whole interview incident was result of you being intimidated by my beauty. Why wouldn't you be? I'm a total babe and you're a total loser. Like, if we were to combine ourselves into a popular website that superficially reduces human beauty to a quick and cold numerical value judgment of someone's worth as a person in a sly effort to undercut society's collective self-esteem, I'd be the [i]hot[/i], and you'd be the [i]not[/i]. I'm not so sure who would be the [i]or[/i]. Anyway, why don't you and I at least try to be friends? I mean, you're just in time! WRIGHT In time for what, dare I ask? ALIX For cooking with Alix, silly! Mariachi, Moracca, seat this gentlemen! (Amidst his weakly stated protest, Los Diablos usher Wright to a table, but not before they cop a feel in the process!) ALIX Mexicans are great aren't they? I was just talking with my good friend Nicole Richie and we both agreed that everyone should have one. I mean, she didn't really say she agreed. She more kinda said “How did you get into my house, you crazy bitch! I'm calling the cops!” But you could tell the agreement was totally there. And as the cops dragged me away, she said “I'll see you in court!” Can you believe that? A date with Nicole? Gnarly! Never heard of this Court place, though. Must be a new club! Anyway onto Cooking with Alix! So what do ya want to eat dude, dude? You can have anything your pretty heart desires as long as what your pretty heart desires is chili! WRIGHT Why is that you only have chili? ALIX Well, my plan is to market and sell this chili all over the world! See, Krista's got her exercise videos, so why can't I have my chili? My chili puts ten pounds on your BUTT, and Krista's videos knock it right off! Anywho, I got the idea 'cause Grandma Spezia had this closely guarded chili recipe that she always said I'd have to pry out of her cold dead head hands to get. Well this Sunday turned out to be my lucky day, because when I went over to Grandma's house, what did I see before me but a murder/suicide! It looked like Grandpa Spezia finally made good on his “One day, one day, one too many days” threat and BAM, no more Thanksgiving at Grandma and Grandpa's! So I stepped over the dead bodies and scored the sweet recipe. Now, I'm gonna cooky-cook my way to culinary stardom! I know Grandma's looking up at me and is just so proud right now. WRIGHT Looking up? ALIX That woman's gotta be in hell. But you're gonna be in heaven once you taste this orgasm of flavor! WRIGHT I suppose I can indulge your culinary amusements as an appetizer to indulging in my own violent delectation. Very well. Service the HI-YAH heavyweight champion, and be quick about it, lazy dogs! MORACCA Chupame la polla!! (Mariachi giddily sets a bowl of the delicious chili in front of the OAOAST's moral highground. With baited breath, Los Diablos and Alix watch as Wright takes skeptical a taste of the fine product. Much to everyone's delighted surprise, he doesn't regurgitate it immediately upon swallowing it. In fact his overjoyed taste buds betray his desire to put down Alix and force him to down several more eager spoonfuls. Yet it's only mere seconds after his euphoric first bite that something appears to have gone wrong. His face grimacing in an understated agony, the snooty grappler begins to slowly paw at his throat, unsure of what ails him. Unfortunately Alix is too wrapped up in her visions of being the next Rachel Ray to notice that her award winning chili may be hammering the first nail in Wright's coffin!) ALIX Really, the only thing I need is a name for it.... (Wright's moment of uncertainty passes, and he goes into full on panic mode, feeling a mischievous piece of meat waging a brutal war on his trachea. Wrought with panic, he frantically shoots himself out of his chair and clutches his throat) MARTY Hey, man, are you ok? You don't look too hot. ALIX A really good name. Something unique. Something bold. WRIGHT (pounding the table with his free hand) SHIT! SWEET MOTHER OF MERCY! I'M FUCKING DYING HERE! GOD DAMN IT! SON OF A BITCH! I'LL KILL YOU FUCKERS! ALIX I dunno, Christian. That doesn't really have the catchy sort of zing I'm looking for in a name. Let me try it in a jingle. (singing) It's yummy, it's spicy, it's tangy , it's zippy, it's salty, it's snappy, it's altogether tastey, it's “SHIT! SWEET MOTHER OF MERCY! I'M FUCKING DYING HERE! GOD DAMN IT! SON OF A BITCH! I'LL KILL YOU FUCKERS!” Hmmm. I just don't think that's gonna work, babe. (Unfortunately Wright's spirited tantrum merely made an easily correctable situation more grievous, as all the excess movement forced down that tiny slab of meat, and now he really is choking! His face turning several shades of blue, Wright sinks onto the table, and desperately clutches onto a napkin as he can fill the treacherous chili making a winning bid to end his days. His speech becomes non existent and his movements turn erratic as he starts to see his life flash before his hazel eyes. He turns towards a confused Alix, desperately pointing at his throat, begging her to aid him in his time of crisis. Ever the helpful one Ally immediately springs to his aid, saving his life with the Heimlich manuveuer! After reconciling himself with his near death experience Wright, slightly humbled, resumes speaking.) WRIGHT (speaking softly, still trying to gather his voice.) Because you have saved my life, I shall repay you in kind and spare your's. For now. ALIX Oooooh! Somebody named Christian has a crush on somebody named Mariachi, but that somebody named Christian is probably pretty uncomfortable with his latent feelings of homosexuality, so we'll pretend that somebody named Christian has a crush on somebody named Alix! And that somebody named is Alix is me! Cool! Is it because I saved you from a trip down to meet my Grandma? This is kinda like the original [i]Back to the Future[/i] in reverse. Ya know where Lea Thompson had to take care of that Michael J Fox dude because her dad ran him over him with his car. So then Lea nursed him back to health and like tried to put the mac on him. But he got all uptight because he was like her son from the future and he didn't wanna make out with his mommy. But I don't really see what the issue is, I've done it, you get used to it after the third or fourth time. And my mom isn't even half as hot as Lea Thompson! WRIGHT Be silent and listen! Rather then physically eradicate you in front of this audience of three, as was my original intent, I will instead mentally dominate your languid mind in front an audience of millions. I, Christian Wright issue, you, Alix Maria Spezia, a simple challenge. Next week I wish to meet you in the honored confines of the OAOAST ring, not for a contest of fisticuffs, mind you, but for a carefully judged battle of intelligence and ideals. ALIX Sorry, can you repeat what you just said? I sorta left my pompous jerk-off to English dictionary at home. WRIGHT Useless call girl! I am challenging you to a [i]debate[/i]! A debate! Are you capable of understanding what a debate is? Next week on HeldDOWN, not only will the world see me celebrate my sensational defeat of Zack Malibu, they shall witness you and I opposing each other over the topic of [i]role modeling[/i]. What say you to this proposition? ALIX Oooooh, a debate! That'll be fun, fun, fun! Can I pick the guest menstruator? WRIGHT The what!? I believe you are thinking of a mediator. MARTY I think you both mean moderator. ALIX Can I pick him? Huh? Huh? Can I? WRIGHT Select whatever social miscreant you so desire to play the role of mediator. But be warned, that it shan't make a lick of difference. The outcome will forever remain an intellectual slaughter on the scale of my physical decimation of Zack Malibu at Zero Hour. (Christian takes his leave and we go BACK TO SC) COACH Christian Wright it not only a proud warrior but as we can see he's a fine scholar as well! Such a man, such a man. And ladies he's single!

There should be an Alix coming to you later, but the two skits operate independently of each other so it doesn't matter where you place them. Our view is transported outside the venue where we find Krista Isadora Duncan sitting on the curb smoking a cigarette, waxing her surfboard, and relaxing in the cool island evening. However, in what seems to be a weekly occurrence here on HeldDOWN~!, Krissy's treasured moment of solitude is interrupted by the arrival of a bothersome guest. This time meddlesome party is one Jade Rodez, sister of Leon Rodez. JADE Uh...Miss Duncan? Shocked by the intrusion, Krista lets her surfboard drop from her hands in fright. KRISTA Oh! You startled me. Jesus Christ. Thank god I'm wearing yellow pants. I hope you know what to do if I have a heart attack. Did you know heart disease is the leading cause of death for women? I'll be speaking on that topic at UCLA if you're interested. Oh, where are my manners? Hi, Jade. For some confusing reason, Jade's face brightens like a Christmas tree. KRISTA Are you okay? JADE You...you..remembered...my...name! You didn't need any clues or prompts! I didn't have to say starts with a J and ends with an ade! You just came right out and said my name! Wow! My name has never sounded so beautiful before. [i]Jaaaaade[/i]. Oooooh. Thank you so very much Miss Duncan! Wow! [i]Jaaaaaade[/i]. KRISTA I knew I should've called you Jill. From the way you're acting I feel I ought to offer you a bottle of Ritalin and a restraining order. But I have neither the crooked inner city doctor nor the overpriced shyster straight out of USC law school available to facilitate those items. But I can offer you a Marlboro. Wanna smoke? JADE Oh no, Miss Duncan. Cigarettes can kill! KRISTA That's my hope. (Hoping Jade will take the silent hint to get lost, Krista goes back to working on her board. Jade, however, doesn't quite pick up on Krissy's not so subtle clues.) JADE Hey, who's surfboard is that? KRISTA (holding her board and looking at Jade with puzzlement on her face) It's mine. JADE You...surf? Wow! Aren't you kind of... KRISTA Kind of what? (Not having the social grace to backtrack out of her comments, Jade continues to inadvertently insult Krista) JADE You know...[i]old[/i]? (Sighing inwardly, Krista sets her surfboard back to the ground.) KRISTA Okay, Good Ol JR, clever play on your initials, tell me what Krista Isadora Duncan can do for you? I mean surely you didn't just come out here to remind me that I'm old enough to remember Gladys Knight before she looked like she ate all the Pips. So, what's up? JADE (nervousness forcing her to speak softly) I....I..well..uh...I was...um.. KRISTA To quote the highbrow Oscar Worthy comedy [i]Billy Madison[/i] “Ta..ta..ta...today, junior!” (feeling a sharp pang of guilt, Krista remorsefully shakes her head) God, I can be such an asshole. I'm sorry. Just tell me what's wrong, kiddo. JADE Your tag title match at Zero Hour. Um, if it's not that big a deal, can I maybe come on down to the ring with you and Alix? KRISTA (taken aback by the request) Now why would you want to do a thing like that? JADE Uh...I kind of thought with that Jim Cornette guy at ringside, you might kind of need someone who can maybe keep things..uh..under control? Maybe. I don't know. Jeez. I know that I don't have the hottest record when it comes to wrestling. But Jim Cornette's no Molly Matthews, I..I..think I could deal with him. KRISTA Forget Molly Matthews, Jim's no Dave Matthews. He is in bad shae. Jim Cornette is one KFC Snackers combo away from a cardiac arrest and a "HeldDOWN is Corny" tribute show. He's the one who needs your help. Maybe you can dress up as an EMT and shock him back to life when the good lord does us all a favor and decides he's swung his last racket. The only thing I need to stop fat body is a bucket of drumsticks, some biscuits and a bottle of Mylanta. The dude's forty five years old and looks like he's sixty five. His face has got more wrinkles, cracks, and marks, then the stretched out ass of a day shift lap dancer at Larry Flynt's hustler club. Every time I see Jimmy I hear Bob Dylan singing in my head. “Knock, knock, knocking on heaven's door”. Every time he sees me he hears The Beatles “Help! I need somebody! Help! I need somebody!” JADE Um, I don't know who Bob Dylan is. KRISTA While that makes me weep for the future of America, it's not terribly important right now. What is important is that Jim Cornette doesn't even pose a threat to a baby with a bad cough. And you and I both know that. You're trying to ask me an embarrassing question without sounding too stupid. That's pretty hard to do. So why don't you go ahead and tell me the real reason you want be at ringside? (Jade sits down next to Krista, and after a moment's pause and a heavy sigh she finally admits the truth) JADE Ned. KRISTA Ah-ha. Go on. JADE I know that some people think I should toughen up and get over what he did to me. But I'm not that a strong person. I'm not the type who can just wake up and decide I'm gonna forget about how that sleazeball had me pinned against the wall, fearing for my safety, praying to god that I'd make it through the ordeal unharmed. I don't have some magic on/off switch I can use to flip off all the memories. If I did, I would've turned them off in a silly minute. But these feelings and the fear just won't go away. They're sticking with me like a cancer. I don't know. Maybe, I'm just being dumb. KRISTA (lighting another cigarette) You're not being dumb. Not at all. (Krista's plainly stated comment puts a genuine smile on Jade's lips.) JADE Um, thanks. Well, there are times when I'm at the arenas and I'm just walking down a hallway full of people, and they're smiling at me and they're waving at me and they're being so polite, but I can't return their courtesy because all I can do is keep nervously looking over my shoulder because I keep thinking that he's there waiting to hurt me. That he's gonna turn his tough talk into tough action and I'm gonna pay the price of me being a woman and him being an asshole. It's just so hard. I don't have anyone to talk to. Leon doesn't get angry, he doesn't understand me. I try to talk to Alix, and she's the nicest person I know, and she's sweet, but she doesn't really get it. You understand me, Krista. I know you do. You're the only one who really knows what it's like to absolutely despise someone, to hate Ned. God, I feel bad for saying this but want to watch him suffer. I have this horrible need to watch him hurt. I want to be right there raising your hand, when he's stirring back to life, and he starts to realize that you and Alix have been crowned the tag team champions. I want to see him get what he deserves, and you get what you deserve. I know I'm asking a lot but can I please be out there? KRISTA I don't know. If I say yes will you promise not to hug or touch me in anyway? JADE Yeah. KRISTA In that case my answer is yes. You can come down with us. JADE I lied! KRISTA Wha... (Before Krista can finish that thought, Jade wraps her arms around her for an appreciative hug! Muttering under her breath, Krista complains about the wrinkling of her expensive shirt that took forever to iron) JADE Thank you so much, Miss Duncan! Your the best around! KRISTA (singing) And no one's ever gonna bring me down. JADE Huh? KRISTA It's from a song. Joe Espizitio? [i]You're the best[/i]? From [i]Karate Kid[i]? You don't know what [i]Karate Kid[/i] is do you? Nevermind. (Krista sighs) Time for me to tell you a little story about the man who's got you so worried. So, you tell me you're afraid. You think you're scared? I bet you really are, but take solace in what I'm about to tell you. Ned Blanchard is a lie. This trumped up Handsome Hustler persona is just a mask to shield the helpless boy he's become. He talked a good word last week, sitting in front of the Hollywood sign, pretending like he's somebody important, acting like people give a damn about a word that comes out of his lips. But anybody could detect the sorrow, the desperation in his voice when he claimed he'd never let me take his tag team title. In his own warped mind if I take his belt, I take more then a championship, I strip away everything that he is. I take away all that he has left. JADE (nodding enthusiastically) That's good! He deserves it! KRISTA Maybe so. But imagine living your life with the knowledge that your entire reason for existing, the sole object that defines your very being, the one thing that let's you know you're still alive, can be robbed of you in three little seconds. That's Ned's life. Some people live day to day. Ned lives pinfall to pinfall, second to second. He is paralyzed with fear of the frightening knowledge that the only thing that separates him from a life without meaning is three beats of a referee's hand. One. Two. Three. Gone. Ned Blanchard ceases to exist. Jade, I can look to my daughter and I know that as long as I have her, I will always feel, my life will always have purpose and I will always be alive. Ned is very different. He's turned on and abused every last person who's shown him even a sliver of kindness. This so called Handsome Hustler is just a souless child who endures hours of unending loneliness. He has no family, he has no friends, his sole contact with his own flesh and blood is a birthday card that arrives three month's too late. Ned Blanchard's only true link to this world is a cold hunk of metal that's even more unfaithful then he. All Ned can do is get on his knees and pray that he never hears the words “And new tag team champions!” Because when he does he might as well be dead. A wiser woman then I would be wary of Ned, because no one fights as hard as a man who's living on the edge of nothingness. JADE Do you feel bad for him at all? KRISTA I feel sorry for the man he used to be. But there is no hint of that sweet spirit left in the miserable husk we see today. Now he's just a monster. He broke your spirit, he tried to break Holly's neck, and he broke my heart. And in my hometown of Los Angeles, California, I will break his.

It's no big deal. Don't worry about it.

I mean in storyline terms. Who's like the owner? Has that ever been said and I just totally missed it? I'm just curious.

Ooooh, the blueish one is pretty!

Purrrrrdy enjoyable show. Maybe better then last weeks. I enjoyed that Rockers/TK&Reject match. Alf really knows how to craft a good fast paced match. An auspicious debut by the dancing Dragon! A man in a skull mask versus a mythical beast who likes to shake it like a Polaroid picture is quite the unique match up! Bitching choice of entrance music for the Dragon. Nice to see Black T back together in promo capacity. It's not like they split, but you know what I mean. I liked how they flat out refused to pay The Slingers any respect or give them any credit for their “fluke” victory. And leave it to Zack to be the only motherfucker cool enough to make a Queen Latifah reference. The only way it would've been better is if he name dropped some Living Single to go along with it. I love that show. I popped inwardly for Faqu hitting a hurricanrana, that's a lot of weight to carry over. Anyway, the six man was a pretty fun match as was the Brains&Brawn tag against Rodez and Brickston. Mr.Boricua getting cheered up about his loss by being promised a trip to Hershey Park made me smile because I've been there! Tony already knows what I thought about his stuff so no need to say anything. It seems old Popick has discovered an interesting way of cutting a promo. If we were a live show it would've been funny for him to text message his promo in net speak and make the audience read his goofy writing. Patty cares about hockey! Never has an e-fed comment gotten heel heat from me. I wished Knight would've ripped out this dude's heart and ate it.

In addition to all that Wright will reveal his masterplan to take over the world!!! Well, maybe it won't be that dramatic, but he'll do something. And there will be build for the Zero Hour tag title match. This I promise you!

Quoted for truth. Babies?

Super short feedback: Nice show, I enjoyed it a lot better then last weeks! All the matches were really fun to read. And Tony, I loved the early part of that Gunslingers intro. You've really developed a way with words! Maybe you could be a romance novelist, huh? I found this line to be totally funny: Such a heated reply to an innocent insult! Excellent. I wonder how many schlongs are contained in your normal sized bag of dicks? A half dozen? A dozen? Wonders of the world.