Patty O'Green

40-11=?

I edited them in!

They ain't here yet but they will be one day.

Shit yeah, I remember that Hand storyline! How did he get off the hook for that, it was a sports related death so he couldn't really be prosecuted? Todd Bertuzzi should use that defense!

I didn't include Axel because he's the GM. I didn't include SJ because the character is inactive for now. I had no idea what to do with Black T, so I put them as tweeners under the singles wrestlers. I've gotten the list as close to accurate as I can in my sleep deprived state. Add, delete, move anyone ya want. ~SIGNLES WRESTLERS~ FACES Zack Leon Rodez Alfdogg Stephen Joseph Ragdoll The Parka Reject Otaku II ThunderKid Foshi Rikjin Massamoto Colombian Heat Spanish Fly John Brickston Dance Dance Dragon HEELS Peter Knight PRL Ken Baker AJ Flaire Jamie O'Hara Brock Ausstin Gunner The entire Lightning Crew TWEENERS Dan Black Tony Brannigan ~TAG DIVISION~ FACES (what a strange group!) Chicks Over Dicks Heavenly Rockers Sooner Bruisers Sk8r Boiz Los Diablos De Fuego The Love Doctors Lone Star Gunslingers HEELS NNMX GPX Wright/Bo(should they be under singles?) Team Heyross South Central Militia NRG TWEENERS Blonde and Faqu ~WOMEN'S DIVISION~(It's Ladies Night and I feel alright) FACES Jenny Adams Molly Matthews El Chica Generico Ashley Street Jade Cannon Kidd Kumiko Watanabe HEELS Crystal Confusia Serena Blackmore (her stats have her down as a heelish tweener) Constance Valerie TWEENERS Julie Sharcor Brodie

....

We take it to the inner confines of the Resch Center (see how fancy "backstage" can sound? Really spruces up the segment!), where the duo of "Strong Stylin'" James Blonde and the "Samoan Tsunami" Faqu talk with each other, until they're rudely interrupted by another OAOAST duo. SCOTTY Well Johnny, look who it is. JOHNNY Oh, I see who it is. Looks to me like two LOOOOOOOOOO-SERS! Jax continues to insult Blonde and Faqu, circling them while making the "L" shape with his fingers, as Static chuckles. BLONDE Mature. What do you two want. SCOTTY Hey now, don't take that tone with me, buster. After your showing in the Anderson Cup tournament and allowing Black T to advance, your lucky that the General Manager booked you at all. BLONDE First off, Scotty, we're booked through an arrangement between the HI-YAH and OAOAST Corporate Offices. Secondly, you're gonna throw the Anderson Cup in our face when you lost as well? JOHNNY You mother... Scotty puts up his hand and covers Johnny's mouth, but the muffled cuss word still rolls off his tongue. SCOTTY Look Blonde, let me tell you and the big man what's up. What happened to us was a fluke, plain and simple. You guys...you guys are on your backs more than a mechanic! You think that because you disappeared for a while, got people to forget all about you, and then came back with some spiffy new tights and some catchy nicknames, that all of a sudden your superstars? When I see you two do what we did, and that is MAKE YOURSELVES, then maybe we'll talk. Until then, face it boys, you're still bottom of the barrel. I don't give a damn what you do in HI-YAH, because we've been around the world, and we realize that most countries don't know shit about status. David Hasselhoff is like the second coming of Christ in Germany, for God's sake! JOHNNY He did have a hot show, though. SCOTTY Yeah, Knight Rider was the shit. JOHNNY Dude...BAYWATCH! SCOTTY David Hasselhoff was on Baywatch? JOHNNY Yeah, he was the main dude! SCOTTY You watched that show for the dudes!? JOHNNY ... SCOTTY Anyways, let me set the record straight. You two guys, you've got some pretty high opinions of yourselves, but face the facts. Your name value is non-existent. Me and Johnny, we carry the tag division of this company. We carry the torch of The Upstarts, and we're gonna do what we said we were gonna do and start from the ground up, and when that happens, don't expect to see your names on the list. Not until you show that you're something other than mobile tackling dummies. After the challenge is laid out, Faqu steps forward, silently waiting for the GPX to make their move. SCOTTY Go ahead, big man, hit me. Then you can explain to your bosses why the HI-YAH Championship got set on fire and put out with our piss! Faqu snarls, but Blonde steps in front of him, preventing the big man from reacting out of anger. BLONDE What are you talking about? SCOTTY Ooooh, NOW you're not so big, are ya Blondie? Do you even remember who the HI-YAH Heavyweight Champion is? Let me refresh your memory...his name is Christian Wright, and he's with us. He's an Upstart. And he is not above making an example out of your whole organization, BELIEVE us. You saw what we did to the OAOAST Home Office a whlie back, right? You jump the gun and I'll charter a boat over there, kick in the doors to the HI-YAH office, pull a Godzilla on everyone there, stop off for some sushi, and still get home in time to booty call your mama! So if I were you, I'd step back, and if you're lucky...or UNlucky, maybe Axel'll do us a favor and sign you up against a real tag team. Static, smirking, turns and leaves, while Jax backs up in order to keep an eye on Blonde and Faqu, and laughs under his breath. Blonde and Faqu, angered by the insults to their character and their home organization, are fuming, so much that the screen turns black! ... Oh wait, no, we just had to fade out for our very last commercial break. (GO TO BREAK) (RETURN FROM BREAK) "Punishment" by BIOHAZARD hits, meaning only one thing: "Punishment" by BIOHAZARD is playing. Which leads to the arrival of Rick Heyross and his tag team of Charlie Moss and Quentin Benjamin, Team Heyross, all of whom are greeted rudely. BUFFER The following is a Miracle Weirdness Connection Conference semi-final match, with the winners to face the team of Black T or the Lone Star Gunslingers in the Conference Finals. Coming down the aisle, led down by their manager, Rick Heyross...at a total combined weight of 480 pounds...they are the Universe's Greatest Tag Team... CHARLIE MOSS and QUENTIN BENJAMIN... TEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAM HEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYRRRRRRRRRRRROSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS! Team Heyross remove their sweet hooded windbreaker jackets and pants as the camera pans to the entranceway and the music of Edgar Winter's "Frankenstein." "OW, OW, OW, OW, OWWWWWWWW!" BUFFER Their opponents in this semi-final match...from Oklahoma City, at a combined weight of 525 pounds... "THE MAN OF TOMORROW" FRANK FRANKENSTEINER and "THE PYSCHO GREMLIN" FRANKIE FRANKENSTEINER... THE SOONER BRUUUUUUUUISERRRRRRSSSSSS! Heyross, Moss and Benjamin watch from the friendly confines of their corner as "The Man of Tomorrow" poses on the second turnbuckle, flexing his biceps, while "The Pyscho Gremlin" runs around the squared circle like a madman. COLE If you haven't already set up the VCR or TiVO'd tonight's show, you better do so now. If you love wrestling, and I'm talking about high-impact, in-your-face wrestling, this is the match for you. CABOOSE You have 4 of the most gifted professional and amatuer wrestlers in the ring. The amount of high school, state and national titles they've won is so mind-boggling you'd think it was the national deficit. COACH That's a lot. But let's be honest here. The only contrast of styles is in the looks department. Team Heyross are nice, clean-cut All-American boys whereas the Sooner Bruisers look like a porn star and an escape mental patient. COLE You know, the Sooner Bruisers aren't that far away from us. If you wanna go tell them that... COACH I'm a broadcast journalist, son. The Coach gets paid the big money to make you guys look good. It ain't easy, believe me, but I think I do one helluva job. Referee Nick Patrick orders one man in the ring, one man out on the apron. High-fives all around for Team Heyross. BUTT slaps all around for the Sooner Bruisers. Frankie, Quentin and Rick exit. * DING DING * The match gets underway with a classic collar-and-elbow tie-up. Frank is backed in the corner and RAKED in the eyes. Nothing sportsmanlike there. Neither is the big right hand that rocks the Man of Tomorrow, but he manages to reverse Moss' Irish whip, sending the Minneapolis native hard into the corner, his momentum rocketing him out of the corner and into the clutches of a Frank Frankensteiner MILITARY PRESS SLAM! Quentin Benjamin is no help to his partner as he's caught entering with a bodyslam. Frank yanks Moss' arm before taking him over to the Sooner Bruisers corner and tags in his brother, giving Charlie the opening to rip his arm away and retreat to his corner. After a few words with Quentin, Charlie returns to the center of the ring to lockup, only to have a snarling Pyscho Gremlin take a swipe at his leg. Moss uses his speed to maneuver around the unpredicatable Frankie Frankensteiner, then lands a punch that dazes the Gremlin. But Frankie doesn't stay on the defensive for long, lunging forward and slamming Moss to the mat. Moss hears the voice of Rick Heyross frantically screaming "SOONERLINE! SOONERLINE! SOONERLINE!" as he gets up. Sure enough, he turns and sees Frankie charging at him with his right arm cocked. Heyross' warning pays off, as Charlie falls back to the safety of his corner, where he and Benjamin take a few moments to go over their current strategy. Moss then challenges Frankie to get down on the mat and wrestle "like a man." COLE Is this gonna be interesting. The amatuer backgrounds of both these teams well-documented. Moss gets on all fours, as Frankie mounts him. On Nick Patrick's "GO" Moss sits up and out of the rear waistlock into one of his own. But just as quickly, Frankie is also able to escape, and places Moss in a front facelock. Charlie wraps his arms around Frankie's left leg in an attempt to take him down, but it's Moss who goes down as Frankie takes him over in a fireman's carry and covers. ONE... KICKOUT! Charlie argues his shoulders weren't down while Frankie howls his accomplishment, as do the fans who realize what's just taken place. COLE What great pure wrestling on the part of Frankie! Score one for Frankie Frankensteiner. COACH Great wrestling, yeah. But he didn't win the match. And that's the objective. Moss and Benjamin know that. I don't think the Sooner Bruisers do. Charlie gets up in Frankie's face, informing him that was just the first period, and now it's time for period 2. They trade places for period 2, with Frankie getting down on all fours. Moss rubs his hands together and...KICKS FRANKIE IN THE HEAD! The partisan crowd boo as Charlie sends Frankie face-first into the knee of Quentin. After a tag, Benjamin jumps off the top with a double-axhandle onto the outstretched arm of Frankie, the very arm used for the Soonerline. Full armdrag and twist into a hammerlock takedown by Benjamin. Quentin drives the knee into the arm of Frankie, trying to hyperextend it with an armbar. Frankie gets to a vertical base and in one fell swoop brings Quentin down with a drop toehold into a side headlock, which Benjamin maneuvers out of by sending Frankie off to the ropes. Frankie levels Quentin with a shoulder block and then hits the near side, going under a leapfrog and countering Benjamin's reverse springboard crossbody with a belly-to-belly suplex! ONE... TW-- NO! The Pyscho Gremlin's brother Frank enters as Charlie Moss looks to start trouble in the ring. He decks Moss with a forearm shot to the jaw. The Sooners then showcase their arsenal of suplexes -- overhead, belly-to-belly, T-Bone, etc. Charlie and Quentin meet on all fours mid-ring, but they soon have company as Frankie joins the fray and BITES Benjamin in the ass! The Sooners cap it off by clotheslining Team Heyross over the top to the floor! "OW, OW, OW, OW, OWWWWWWWW!" Frankie is patted on the head as he howls around the ring. Outside, Team Heyross regroup with their manager. Ouentin returns the ring, ready to go. He and Frank now the legal men. Ouentin grabs an overhead wristlock out of a collar-and-elbow tie-up, but as Frank starts to gain control Benjamin sweeps him off his feet with a heel trip. ONE... Frank uses every ounce of neck strength to BRIDGE UP, but is still at the mercy of Quentin's overhead wristlock. Slowly but surely Frank bridges all the way up to eye level with Quentin, sending Team Heyross on the defensive. Charlie steps in and kicks Frank in the gut to prevent him from overpowering Quentin. Team Heyross apply a double overhead wristlock, but that isn't enough to contain the Man of Tomorrow, who backflips and takes Benjamin and Moss over with Japanese armdrags. Moss is then spiked into the mat with a maneuver so awesome it can only be best describe as a STANDING MOONSAULT POWERSLAM! Not to leave Quentin out, he gets planted too. The Man of Tomorrow goes high-tech, high-impact, scooping Benjamin up by the head and dropping him with a double underhook powerbomb. Frank brings Benjamin back to his feet and whips him to the ropes. TILT-A-WHIRL SLAM! As he gets up on his feet Frank sees thousands of fans twirling their index fingers, the signal for the Frankensteiner. COLE Listen to that. They all want to see it. They want to see...the Frankensteiner! COACH Not me. Benjamin and Moss are world-class wrestlers, total sportsmen, not brawlers like those bruisers. Frank gives THE SIGNAL~! and fires Benjamin to the ropes. Frank doesn't see it, but a blind tag is made. Hence why it's called a blind tag. He goes up in the air as Quention recoils off the ropes, and is CLIPPED IN MIDAIR by Moss, causing Frank to land flat on his back. Moss heads straight for the leg, lifting it up and stomping the back of the kneecap. Charlie drops a series of elbows down on the leg, then drags Frank to the ropes, where he places the leg on the bottom rope and crashes all his weight down on it. Benjamin tagged back in. Double wish bone leg split. Quentin drags Frank away from the ropes but still near the Team Heyross corner, where he applies a single-leg crab. Moss gives his partner added supported by pushing his foot up against Quentin's chest. Benjamin yanks back on the leg, before letting go to knock Frankie off the apron with a forearm shiver. As the referee prevents an enraged Frankie from entering the ring, Quentin and Charlie trade places. Nick Patrick does a double-take when he turns around, astonished that Quentin somehow turned white or that an illegal switch was made. He questions the parties involved, all of whom say a tag was made, honest-to-goodness. Now it's Charlie's turn to shove Frankie off the apron, a diversion for Team Heyross to make another illegal switch. COACH For all you whiners out there, the legal man is back in. Quentin knocks Frankie off the apon again, but this time Nick Patrick catches him and Charlie making an illegal switch and orders Moss out of the ring. Moss is then tagged in legally, and makes sure the referee knows it's legit by showing him his hand. Patrick doesn't appreciate Moss showing him up but lets it slide. Moss rolls Frank onto his back and hooks the legs. COACH Mossy Knoll comin' up! Or so we thought. As Charlie is about to turn Frank over, Frankie comes in and whallops Moss with a Soonerline! So dazed is Moss he tags out not long after he was brought in. Frank catches Quentin coming in with a drop toehold. He floats over and clamps on a side headlock, which Benjamin quickly counters by shooting Frank to the ropes. Benjamin tries kicking Frank on the rebound, but the Big Bad Re-Booty Daddy catches the leg and spins Quentin around. SPINNING HEEL-- No, Frank sees it coming and ducks. Benjamin lands on his hip, and when he gets up he's waistlock from behind. He blocks Frank's German suplex by wrapping his leg around Frank's. Standing switch, and now Benjamin is in control of the rear waistlock. But he struggles to lift Frank up for the German, so Charlie comes in and nails Frank with a SUPERKICK, putting an end to Frank's fight and allowing Quentin to complete the GERMAN SUPLEX! ONE... TWO... TH-- KICKOUT! Team Heyross with a tag. Charlies Moss rams Frank into the top turnbuckle, backing him into the corner and driving the shoulder repeatedly into midsection. Vertical suplex brings Frank out of the corner and flat onto the center of the ring. Team Heyross make another exchange. Quentin Benjamin soars off the top with a FLYING ELBOW DROP! ONE... TWO... THR-- NO! Team Heyross with another quick tag. And another as Moss Irish whips Frank. Benjamin leaps to the top and levels the eldest member of the Sooner Bruisers with a TOP ROPE FLYING CLOTHESLINE! No cover, but yet another tag. Moss grabs Frank's leg and drags him to the corner, exiting the ring and... * WHAP * ...bashes the leg, the same leg worked over earlier in the bout, against the RINGPOST. And again. Frank pulls himself out of the corner, but not out of trouble. With Frank at a weaken state, Charlie easily locks on the MOSSY KNOLL! COLE Mossy Knoll! Mossy Knoll! Mossy Knoll! We may be moments away from a submission. Moments away. Frank is caught in the center of the ring, nowhere to go or anyway to counter. Rick Heyross pounds the ring apron, screaming at Frank to tap. Seeing his big brother defenseless, Frankie comes in...and to the shock of everyone watching doesn't breakup the Mossy Knoll. No. He goes around Moss and Frank and decks Benjamin. Quentin jumps back up on the apron and gets halfway through the ropes before being stopped by Nick Patrick. Frankie hammers Moss behind the referee's back with a closed fist and delivers a belly-to-belly to free his brother! COACH Tell me I didn't just see that? COLE You did, Booker T. Frankie outsmarted Team Heyross! Frank rises to his feet as Moss rolls to his corner and tags Quentin Benjamin. Quentin charges. FLOATOVER DDT...COUNTERED INTO A RELEASE NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX! With both members of Team Heyross incapacitate, Charlie laid out on the apron and Quentin down in the ring, Frank crawls and scratches to his corner inch by inch. Rick Heyross screams for his men, who are just now beginning to stir, to stop the tag. Benjamin grabs Frank's bad leg and brings him up to his feet, kicking him in the midsection and sets up for the Orange Crush...but Frank floats over and drives Quentin up the ring, trapping him against the ropes as he tags Frankie! COLE There it is! He made the tag! Big brother motions for Frankie to go up to the top. Despite the bad knee Frank believes his can lift Benjamin up on his shoulders. And he does! But as he turns his back to the corner, the knee gives out. That doesn't stop Frankie, who comes off the top and spikes Benjamin, his legs still being held onto by Frank, head-first into the mat with a TOP ROPE BULLDOG! ONE... TWO... THREE! NO! Charlie Moss is able to breakup the pin before the hand strikes 3. Frankie levels Moss with a Soonerline. Then slams Benjamin and Moss in succession. He grabs Quentin by the wrist and whips him across the ring. POWERSLAM! ONE... TWO... Moss again is able to breakup the count. This time he's met by the fury of the Man of Tomorrow. Frank decks him with a diving forearm shot. He picks Moss off the canvas and hammers him against the ropes with hard right hands. While Nick Patrick turns his back on the legal men to get Charlie and Frank out of the ring, Rick Heyross sneaks in and pulls out his CELLPHONE. He gets ready to shatter it over the skull of Frankie, but is caught in the act and then with a belly-to-belly suplex! "OW, OW, OW, OWWWWWWWWW!" The crowd continues to howl as Frankie sets Benjamin on the top turnbuckle. Meanwhile, Moss ducks a Soonerline and backdrops Frank over the top rope. He then nails Frank with a Northern Lariat, putting Team Heyross back in the driver's seat. Irish whip. And Moss gets leveled on the rebound with a Soonerline. Frankie looks to capitalize with another Soonerline off the ropes, but Moss leapfrogs over him while Benjamin dives off the top and plants him face-first into the mat with a GUILLOTINE LEGDROP! "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH!" COACH DAYUM~! COLE I couldn't have said it better myself. The cover! ONE... TWO... THREE! NO, KICKOUT! "YYYEEEEEAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" Moss and Benjamin lift Frankie off the mat and fire him back to the ropes, where Frank tags himself in. Unfortunately, he does it right in front of Team Heyross and gets wasted with a DOUBLE SUPERKICK after Frankie is hit with a hot shot, his momentum taking over the top to the floor. Team Heyross with the tag. Moss hoists Frank onto his shoulders as Quentin, the legal man, goes to the top. TOP ROPE BULLDOG! COLE A page right out of the Sooner Bruisers playbook. COACH From a page they stole out of Team Heyross' playbook. Beautifully executed. Much more graceful than the Sooners version. Moss exits so that Quentin can make the pin. ONE... TWO... THR-- KICKOUT! Heyross and his team can't believe it. Quentin stands over Frank, paint-brushing him. He brings Frank back to his feet, drilling him with forearm smashes. Benjamin then has his Irish whip reversed. As he charges back towards Frank, he gets nailed with THE FRANKENSTEINER! But the concussion Frank's bad knee takes prevents him from being able to cover Benjamin. Charlie and Heyross cheer Quentin on from their corner. Nick Patrick slaps his hands together, signaling a tag has been made. Heyross tells his boys to finish Frank off. COACH Oh, I love this move. COLE If they hit this, it's over. Charlie lifts Frank up on his shoulders with Quentin going back up to the top. But Frankie hops on the apron and SHOVES Quentin off the top and into Charlie, causing him to lose his balance. Frank lunges forward and takes Moss down with a VICTORY ROLL! ONE... TWO... THREE! * DING DING DING * Heyross falls to the floor as the Sooners begin celebrating. BUFFER Here are your winners and advancing to the Miracle Weirdness Connection Conference Finals: THE SOONER BRUUUUUUISSSSERRRRRSSS! COLE What a match! Just when it looked like Team Heyross had it in the bag, the Sooner Bruisers somehow found a way to pull it off. Tremendous effort on the part of both teams. It was everything we expected. But it's the Sooner Bruisers who join the Heavenly Rockers as one of the final 4 teams in the 2006 Anderson Cup. Let's take a look at the updated bracket. 2006 ANDERSON CUP MIRACLE WEIRDNESS CONNECTION CONFERENCE # 1 Black T vs. # 8 James Blonde & Faqu -- BLACK T # 4 Christian Wright & Bohemoth vs. # 5 The Lonestar Gunslingers -- GUNSLINGERS # 2 The Sooner Bruisers vs. # 7 Glory by Anarchy -- SOONER BRUISERS # 3 The Love Doctors vs. # 6 Team Heyross -- TEAM HEYROSS SEMI-FINALS # 1 Black T vs. # 4 Lone Star Gunslingers -- NEXT WEEK! #2 The Sooner Bruisers vs. #6 Team Heyross -- SOONER BRUISERS CONFERENCE FINALS February 16th FINALS, ZERO HOUR February 26, 2006 LOS INFERNALES CONFERENCE #1 GPX vs. #8 Los Diablos de Fuego -- LOS DIABLOS # 4 The Heavenly Rockers vs. # 5 Tha Puerto Rican & Stephen Joseph -- HEAVENLY ROCKERS # 2 Thunderkid & Reject vs. # 7 South Central Militia -- TK/REJECT # 3 The Sk8ter Boiz vs. # 6 NRG -- SK8TER BOIZ SEMI-FINALS # 1 Heavenly Rockers vs. # 8 Los Diablos de Fuego -- HEAVENLY ROCKERS # 3 Sk8ter Boiz vs. # 2 TK & Reject -- NEXT WEEK! CABOOSE I'm happy to point out there are NO representives of The Upstarts left. COACH Quite frankly, I don't care what you're happy with, Caboose. We got control of the company and the World Title. He who has the gold has the power. COLE Reminder, ladies and gentlemen: Next week we'll have the last two semi-final matches. The Sk8ter Boiz vs. Thunderkid and Reject and the only remaining 1 seed in the tournament Black T vs. the Lone Star Gunslingers. Two great tag matches coming your way next week on HeldDOWN~! *38.6 MINUTES LATER* OAOAST Productions, Proudly Presents... #~~THE LOVE SHACK~~# LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE~! "YYEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!" The crowd roar right on cue as we are back in the ring, with "Mama Said Knock You Out" playing in the background. The camera pans the crowd for a few seconds before fixing on the ring, where Leon Rodez is already in the ring. His trademark desk is in the ring and there he sits, feet kicked up on the desk and hands cupped behind his head. In the corner of the ring, a rather large "Grand Rapids, Michigan" road sign stands proudly and the ring canvas has been replaced with a LAVISH~! blue carpet. "LE - ON!" "LE - ON!" "LE - ON!" "LE - ON!" RODEZ Man, does this feel good or WHAT!?! We are L to the I to the V-E LIVE! and this is the Angle Award winning Love Shack! You spin me right round baby, right round, like a record baby right round round round. Coming off of a huge 2006 edition of AnglePalooza, it's a bit of a bitter sweet time for me personally. As you can see, I'm no longer the co owner of the OAOAST World Tag Team Titles. I didn't manage to win the Royal Rumble. And, by not eliminating Zack Malibu from the Rumble, I'm not RICH, RICH, RICH BEYOND MY WILDEST DREAMS either. But, not to worry, because I spent the rest of that Sunday night in the back of a moving vehicle with Alix Maria Spezia. "YYEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!" RODEZ YYYAAAAYYY! The funny thing is, it must have sounded like that every time we went round a bend. But, I digress. You great fans have been deprived of the Love Shack for far too long. It's been gone, but now it has returned. It's back! And it's back in a BIG way. We're live and we're in person, because tonight I've managed to secure a huge, monumental celebrity guest! An excited murmur goes up through the arena. RODEZ That's right people, my contacts have been working their fingers to their bones. Good job they have a great health insurance policy, because that's a damn painful affliction to have my friends. As everyone knows, it's that Superbowl time of year. And I know that nobody outside of Pittsburgh and Seattle really cares about it and are simply swept up with the typical American razmatazz and the cultural expectation that as an American you MUST watch the Superbowl because it's some sort of tradition like eating apple pie or fawning over Lindsay Lohan. So, that Superbowl remark was pretty pointless. My guest has nothing to do with football. My guest is a superstar of another kind. My guest this evening is... But, Leon can get no further in his introduction, as "Know Your Role '99" hits! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" Rodez glances to the stage, a little confused, as the OAOAST 24/7 Champion Tha Puerto Rican has emerged through the entrance way! PRL stops on the stage, surveying the crowd, before raising his 24/7 Title beside his head and spinning the "24/7". CABOOSE Wow, he was right! What a great guest! COLE Somehow, I don't think Tha Puerto Rican was the guest in mind. CABOOSE Nonsense! He's a superstar, just like Leon said! Entering the ring, the 24/7 Champion glances around the ring with destain. The desk. The swivel chair. A road sign, in the corner of a wrestling ring!?! PRL doesn't seem to know quite what to make of it, raising the Corporate Eyebrow as he surveys the scene. Judging from the look on Leon's face, PRL wasn't his planned guest, but he takes it all in his stride while PRL demands a microphone from ringside. "PUER - TO SUCKS!" "PUER - TO SUCKS!" "PUER - TO SUCKS!" "PUER - TO SUCKS!" Lowering his extremely expensive sunglasses, PRL looks into the crowd briefly before turning his head to Rodez. For a moment, he seems lost for words. Obviously, that moment doesn't last long. THA PUERTO RICAN So...you're the guy who held the Tag Team Title with that no-talent jabroni, Hack Malibu, for five months? What is your name? CABOOSE Oh! Oooh! Here it comes! RODEZ Well, usually the guest is the one to introduce themself first...especially when they're not scheduled and they're interrupting me. But, what the hell. My name is Leo... PRL IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT YOUR NAME IS!! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" CABOOSE YES! YES! CAN I GET A BURN ON THAT! Rodez stops and thinks for a moment, before smiling. PRL got him. And PRL knows it, grinning at Rodez and at the reaction of the fans. RODEZ Oooooohhhhhhhhhhh! Oh oh oh! Oh man, I must still be a little dis-orientated from my double-duty on Sunday. You know, for a moment, I was wondering what the hell was going on here. I was standing here thinking to myself 'who the hell is this, interrupting the Angle Award winning Love Shack'. And now, it hits me. You're that guy who does all The Rock impressions, aren't ya! PRL "YYYYYEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!" COLE OH! OH! HE GOT HIM! CABOOSE No he didn't! Shut up! COLE PRL looks like he's gonna explode here! Pissed off, PRL tears the sunglasses from his face and tosses them to the mat, forgetting momentarily about just how damn much they cost him. PRL Now you listen to me you two-bit jabroni! Tha Puerto Rican knows EXACTLY who you are! You're the kid who had the gall, the nerve, the AUDACITY to eliminate me from the Royal Rumble on Sunday night! And now, you stand in Tha Puerto Rican's ring. You fill this ring with your crap and pretend to be some sort of talk-show host. And you DARE to disrespect the greatest 24/7 Champion in the OAOAST's history!?! Let me tell you something kid...you don't impress Tha Puerto Rican. You simply annoy me. Tonight, I, "The Corporate Champion", Tha Puerto Rican, was planning to have a special celebration ceremony in this very ring to end HeldDOWN~! to celebrate the fact that I am STILL the longest reigning OAOAST Champion going today! And you, you jumped up Conan O'Brian wannabee, you've ruined that for Tha Puerto Rican! Let me remind you that at AnglePalooza, I beat that nobody Colombian Heat within an inch of his pathetic life to retain the coveted 24/7 Championship. And that you and your 'partner' lost your titles on that exact same night. RODEZ Well, let me remind you that this is The Love Shack...MY show. So, first of all, sit down and settle down, or else I'm going to have to reach into that desk and grab my home sedative kit. PRL fakes some laughter, before his expression turns right back into a scowl. Sitting back at his desk, Rodez kicks his feet up again. Tha Puerto Rican doesn't move an inch, except to tilt his head so he's still staring at Rodez. RODEZ You know, you sure do talk alot. PRL I can talk however long I want! I am The Most Electrifying Man In The OAOAST~! today, tommorrow and any other day, past or present! I am Tha Puerto Rican! RODEZ And you seem to have some sort of superiority complex that makes you talk in the third person. PRL Tha Puerto Rican does NOT have a superiority complex! RODEZ Now, I can understand why you'd be angry with yours truely. I mean, not only did I steal your spot on the show tonight, but I kinda eliminated you from the Royal Rumble on Sunday. Not to mention, how I also kinda eliminated you from BattleBowl last year. Fuming, PRL goes to speak, but Rodez cuts him off. RODEZ But really, you need to calm yourself down. Otherwise, you'll be finding yourself GOING ONE...ON ONE...WITH THE SILKY SMOOTH ONE!!! "YYYYYYEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!" COLE OH! HE GOT HIM AGAIN! CABOOSE SHUT UP SHUT UP! RODEZ Heh, I'm just kidding. You know, there's a whole lot more material here I could be using on you. But, unlike you, I'm trying to be an Original...AND THE SILKY SMOOTH ONE MEANS, AN ORIGINAL!! "OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" COLE THREE-PEAT! TRIFECTA! TRIPLE-DIPPLE! CABOOSE This is horrible. "LE - ON!" "LE - ON!" "LE - ON!" "LE - ON!" PRL screams at the crowd to know their roles and shut their collective mouths. RODEZ Easy there, Puert'. You've got a vein in your neck that's about three seconds from bursting, so I suggest you relax my friend. PRL Friend? FRIEND!?! You will NEVER...AND THA PUERTO RICAN MEANS...NEVER, be Tha Puerto Rican's friend!! RODEZ So...are you imitating The Rock now? Or imitating me imitating The Rock? Or, are you imitating me imitating you imitating The Rock. Or, are you imitating yourself imitating The Rock? I'm confused. The crowd laugh at Tha Puerto Rican, which just pisses him off even more. Raising the microphone, PRL is almost shaking with rage, taking a moment to compose himself. PRL Listen...you little jabroni...Know Your Role...AND SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH!! (places his 24/7 Title on the guest's chair) I am sick and damn tired of hearing the sound of your voice! These people don't give a crap what you think! These people don't want to hear what you have to say! These people want and NEED to hear what Tha Puerto Rican has to say, so you keep those gums of yours firmly in your mouth while I speak! You do not DESERVE your own talk show because, simply put, you are a roody-poo, candy-ass NOBODY! Which means, you do NOT talk to Tha Puerto Rican the way that you are! I am the greatest 24/7 Champion in OAOAST history. You are a nothing...a nobody...a PEON to Tha Puerto Rican! So, since you want your little comedy central segment and I want to celebrate my victory at AngleMania, how about we reach a compromise. How about you sit behind your little desk and continue being nobody, while I have my party. COME ON OUT GUYS!! COLE Huh? "Chance! Hahaha! NO CHANCE, CAUSE THAT'S WHAT YOU'VE GOT!" "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" COLE Oh no... CABOOSE Oh yes! It's party time, Cole! "YOU'RE UP AGAINST A MACHINE TOO STRONG! PUSSY POLITICIANS BUYING SOULS FOR US ARE...PUPPETS!" One by one, the other members of the Lightning Crew emerge through the sliding doors of doom. Vitamin X (with a Shane-O-Mac Shuffle), Cuban Wall, Mr. Boricua (carrying a bunch of red ballons that read "PRL 24/7 4 EVER!"), Ms. Lindsay Gonzalez and Thomas Rodriguez. The Crew are already applauding their leader as he stands proud in the middle of the ring, completely ignoring Leon Rodez who has sat bolt upright in his seat. On to the ring march the Crew, prompting Leon to stand up defensively. "CAUSE YOU'VE GOT..NO CHANCE! NO CHANCE IN HELL! YOU'VE GOT..NO CHANCE! NO CHANCE IN HELL!" The LC begin to enter the ring and they congregate around PRL, Rodez watching on carefully incase of any sudden movements towards him. At the moment, all he's getting are a few glares. PRL Well, we've got my Lightning Crew. We have the balloons. We have the most beautiful woman in the world, Ms. Lindsay Gonzalez. And we've got the 24/7 Champion. All we need to do now is take care of one last thing. (turns to Rodez) You're making this celebration cheap, simply by being here. So take your desk, take your ass and get the HELL out of Tha Puerto Rican's ring!! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" Rodez comes out from behind his desk, smiling still although it's clear PRL is starting to bug him somewhat. The Lightning Crew members stand around PRL, ready to defend him from attack. But Rodez isn't that kind of guy, as he simply sits on the front of his desk. RODEZ First off...nice touch with the ballons. Love it. Mr. Boricua smiles proudly, before Lindsay is forced to tell him it was sarcasm. RODEZ Now, this is certainly a touching scene and I hate to stand in the way of you and your friends having a little celebration. But, with this whole Love Shack thing, I've got myself in 'media personality' mode. Which means, I'm programmed to do things these fans would like. Forgive if I'm wrong, but aside from that chubby guy in the fourth row wearing a 'HIT IT STRONG' t-shirt, which by the way is one of the dumbest slogans in pretty much forever, I don't think there's one person in this entire arena who won't get up and leave early the moment this Lightning Crew celebration begins. The crowd seem to agree, cheering Rodez to the chagrin of Tha Puerto Rican. RODEZ It's my duty to entertaing these people. So, if you want your little party, then go right ahead. But I'm going to be forced to stay here and make the best of a bad situation by beatboxing continuously until the show ends. CABOOSE He wouldn't dare! COLE Oh, wouldn't he? PRL You wouldn't DARE beatbox over Tha Puerto Rican! Oh, wouldn't he? RODEZ Bmm-bbubba chh, bbmm bbabbabbabba AWWAWWA! PRL What the he... RODEZ Boombababoomtachi-OW! PRL STOP THAT!! RODEZ Ewwa-ewwa-ewwaewwa BRING IT BACK! Bbm, pa-chu! Bbm, pa-chu AWWA! PRL ENOUGH! I SAID ENO... RODEZ Rrrrrrrrr....AWWA! Rrrrrrrrr...AWWA! Getting a little carried away, Rodez jumps off the desk and starts throw his hands this way and that along with his rip-roaring vocalising. Mr. Boricua seems to be impressed, but Tha Puerto Rican is certainly not. Rodez continues to beatbox, doing THE RUNNING MAN~! at the same time, whipping the crowd into a frenzy. But, he's also whipped PRL into a frenzy, the 24/7 Champion standing behind Rodez with eyes of rage. And eventually, finally, he's had enough. ::BELTSHOT~!:: "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" PRL GET HIM! GET HIM, DAMNIT!! Right on cue Vitamin X, Wall, Boricua, Rodriguez and even Lindsay leap into action and put the boots to the fallen Leon Rodez! PRL quickly grabs his 24/7 Title from the scene and puts it back over his shoulder, watching the attack with an amused look on his face. Until that is, a group of figures in the aisleway catch his attention. COLE Here comes the cavalry!! First to jump into the ring is Colombian Heat, Spanish Fly right behind him. They go on the attack on the Lightning Crew while Otaku II and John "Rock Hard" Brickston join the fray and it's a massive free-for-all! Tha Puerto Rican manages to escape the scene, with Lindsay Gonzalez by the arm for her safety. Meanwhile, Colombian Heat manages to send Mr. Boricua over the top rope with a big clothesline. Boricua lands on his feet but doesn't get chance to re-enter the ring, before Brickston has Thomas Rodriguez pressed over his head and lauches him into Boricua on the floor! Brains and Brawn don't fare too much better either, X sent scurrying for the exits from a Spanish Fly dropkick, while Leon Rodez is up and with a little help from Colombian Heat sends Cuban Wall over the top with a double clothesline! COLE And there goes the Lightning Crew!! CABOOSE Good! Live to fight another day, that's my motto and obviously The Lightning Crew's too! Leaping onto his desk, Rodez grins at Tha Puerto Rican and kindly informs him that "this isn't over" while the other four men who have just come to Leon's rescue stand and watch the Lightning Crew leave also. "PUER - TO SUCKS!" "PUER - TO SUCKS!" "PUER - TO SUCKS!" "PUER - TO SUCKS!" PRL leads his men back through the entrance, as "Mama Said Knock You Out" hits and Leon is left in the ring to thank his rescuers. COLE Man, Leon Rodez didn't want any assisstance earlier...but he must be mighty grateful that John Brickston, Spanish Fly, Otaku II and Colombian Heat were watching his back! They know Tha Puerto Rican and they must have known trouble was brewing. CABOOSE Bah! Rodez provoked Tha Puerto Rican and he was getting exactly what he deserved! COLE Tha Puerto Rican interrupted Rodez. He had no business even being out here! CABOOSE He's the 24/7 Champion, he can go wherever he wants! COLE Well, regardless of Caboose's bias or anything else, I don't think we've heard the last of this situation between Tha Puerto Rican and Leon Rodez. But, tonight, we have heard the last of myself and my fellow Triple Cers because we're out of time on HeldDOWN~! From Caboose and a strangely quiet Johnathon Coachman, as well as me Michael Cole, we'll see you next week. (FADE TO BLACK)

Do you like to LaLa? I like to LaLa. Do you wanna LaLa? I wanna LaLa. Let's LaLa together,forver.And while we're LaLaing, the opening video, full of fake fighting highlights, gratuitous BUTT shots, and random clips can play for viewers glued in front of their television sets for their weekly fix of fetish wrestling. Another PPV in the books, so it’s time for some meaty FALLOUT~! Ground zero this week is the state-of-the-art Reisch Center in scenic Green Bay, Wisconsin. Heading into the arena, we find another packed house ready and willing to cheer their bratwurst clogged hearts out for their favorite OAOAST superstars. SIGN CHECK~! “Zack got screwed”, factually correct, but not very creative. “Alfdogg = Next Champ”, uncreative AND factually incorrect. “SJ, table for one?” Niiiice. Over to Sofa Central and your hosts, the dapper (whatever the hell that means) Triple Cee. COLE We are four days removed from AnglePalooza 2006 and what a night in Toronto it was. Hello everyone, I’m Michael Cole and we have another jam-packed show for you this week. Tonight, we’ll hear from the winner of the 2006 Lethal Rumble..... COACH And it’s not Zack!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! Alfdogg dumped his ass and won the $100,000 bounty along with a title shot at AngleMania V. CABOOSE With a HUGE assist from Axel, we should mention. COACH Hey, Alf threw him over the top rope and he hit the floor, that’s all that you need to remember. COLE Also, in a brutal I Quit match, Peter Knight retained his World Heavyweight Championship by making Stephen Joseph say I quit....but what happened after that match still makes me sick. CABOOSE Don’t tell me Coach, “Axel didn’t hear him”, right? COLE Well, we’ve got a lot more in store for you fans tonight. The second round of the Anderson Cup begins and we’ll get more reaction from the events of AnglePalooza. Folks, I'm sad to inform you that The Franchise Zack Malibu has banned from the arena by Axel. The General Manager seems to think this is a night of celebration for his Upstarts and he doesn't want Zack spoiling the mood. I think the thousands of fans who've come to see Zack are the one's who are having their mood spoiled. CUE: I’m On a High “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” COACH But here come the two happiest men in the OAOAST! Indeed, as his music blares over the PA, HeldDOWN General Manager Axel is beaming as he steps into the arena. On his right and also beaming, the current OAOAST World Heavyweight Champion Peter Knight. The title belt rests on his right shoulder while the briefcase containing the money dangles from his left hand. Both men stand on top of the stage and drink in the boos before making their way down the aisle. BUFFER Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome HeldDOWN General Manager Axel and the OAOAST World Heavyweight Champion, Peter Knight! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!” As they walk, Knight hands the briefcase over to Axel and raises the title belt while Axel raises the briefcase at the conclusion of Buffer’s introduction. CABOOSE Look at those two; it’s like they just won the lottery. COACH Can you blame them for being happy? The Upstarts reign supreme right now in the OAOAST and we won’t get pushed off the throne that easily. Both men walk up the ring steps and onto the apron. Axel holds up his hand and sits on the middle rope, making it easier for Knight to step through and Knight reciprocates the gesture for Axel. Knight looks around in contempt of the negative reaction from the crowd as Axel walks over and gets a microphone from Buffer as the music fades. The crowd lets the venom fly, booing both men mercilessly and not giving Axel time to speak. Axel, not letting any anger show, simply stands in the ring and waits it out as Knight motions for the crowd to settle down, putting his finger to his lips in a “Shhhhhh” gesture, but the crowd doesn’t let up. Axel waits nearly a minute before putting the mic to his lips. AXEL You know, I’m the GM of this show, so I can pull the plug on it right now if you don’t settle down. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!” That only serves to inflame the crowd even more. Knight walks over to the ropes and trades words with a fan at ringside, threatening to slap his teeth into his wallet as Axel begins to look annoyed. “AAAAAAAAAAX-HOOOOOOLE!!!” “AAAAAAAAAAX-HOOOOOOLE!!!” “AAAAAAAAAAX-HOOOOOOLE!!!” COLE Listen to these fans. They certainly did not like what transpired at AnglePalooza at all. COACH If Axel stops the show, we still get paid, right? Finally, three minutes after Knight and Axel made their entrance, the crowd settles down enough so that Axel can begin. AXEL Thank you. Well, I hope you all enjoyed the show this past Sunday, because I sure did. We have a new women’s champion, Confusia, we have new tag team champions...... “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” AXEL (cont’d) …and though they aren’t “affiliated” with us per se, I talked with Jim Cornette earlier today and assured him that the New New Midnight Express will, as the first ever three time tag team champions, be treated with the respect and honor that those men deserve. I wish the teams remaining in the Anderson Cup a lot of luck because, at AngleMania, you will need every ounce of it. We also had the return of three of the OAOAST’s biggest stars in Josie Baker...... “BOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” AJ Flaire...... “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” and Ken Baker. ”BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! AXEL And Austin, I hope you are doing well, because I want you back here as soon as possible, because I have some plans for a nice “family reunion” down the road. But now, let’s get on to the biggest news of the night. First, in an I Quit match, the man standing in the ring with me did what no one thought could be done; make Stephen Joseph say “I quit” in front of the whole world. Why, it was so embarrassing, Stephen hurled himself off the stage and his world “shattered” around him. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” COLE Ugh, the old evil villain staple, the bad pun. AXEL And Popick, if YOU are watching this, I hope that you DON’T recover so we won’t have to see your beaten down, old, useless carcass in an OAOAST ring ever again. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” AXEL And finally, onto the biggest news of the night and the real reason that we are out here now. 30 participants entered the Lethal Rumble match on Sunday night, each wanting an opportunity at this man at the biggest show of the year. 29 fell, one remained and in the process (lifts briefcase) he collected a little bit of cash by taking out one Zack Malibu. So, ladies and gentlemen, I proudly introduce the WINNER of the 2006 Lethal Rumble….Alfdogg! Magnum Opus: Father Padilla Meets the Perfect Gnat/Howling at the Moon hits and Alfdogg steps through the doors to a fairly mixed reaction. Most of the crowd cheers him, but a vocal segment, no doubt unhappy with Zack’s loss, lets their boos be heard. Alf hits the ring steps and walks into the ring. Axel extends his hand, but Alf simply brushes him off and hits the turnbuckles, raising his arms for the fans. He hops down and reaches for the briefcase, but Axel draws it back, holding his hand up and motioning for him to calm down. AXEL Now, once again I’d like to congratulate you on outlasting twenty-nine others to win a shot at the OAOAST World Title at AngleMania. It is a feeling that I experienced last year, so I know how excited and anxious you are to wrestle in the main event of the biggest show of the year. However….do you really think you can measure up to this man (gesturing to Knight)? Do you really think that, one on one, you can beat this man and take his title? Alf, you are just like Stephen Joseph. Granted, you don’t have the massive ego he has and are a slightly better wrestler, but, like him, you’re an old timer still hanging on to the belief that you can still hang with the big boys. You carry around that gimmick title and defend it by rolling around in malls and hitting guys with Christmas trees. This man…this man doesn’t play around with stuff like that. At AngleMania, you better be ready for the fight of your life because, as Stephen Joseph now knows, you’ll be going up against the Crown Jewel of the Upstarts, the man well on his way to becoming one of the greatest World Champions of all time. You better be ready for Atlantic City Alf…..because he will be. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” Alf stands with his arms crossed, quietly listening to Axel’s spiel. When he finishes, he pauses, seemingly contemplating what he just said before holding his hand out, wanting the microphone from Axel. Axel shakes his head, telling Alf to go get his own so he walks over to Buffer and gets another one. He pauses again, getting his thoughts together before speaking. ALF Wow...he's really made you a believer, hasn't he? Well, let's go back in time a little while, shall we? Let's say about nine months, on HeldDOWN. It was my first TV match in over TWO YEARS, and my opponent was...oh, well it was you, Petey! And you know, Petey, despite my ring rust, I not only beat you in that match, I put you out of action, on the SHELF! And now, nine months later, with me on a roll, at my absolute best, I have no chance. How does that work, exactly? If you couldn't beat this rusty "old-timer" nine months ago, what makes you think you can do it now? Alf holds the mic up to PK, then pulls it back when he starts to speak. ALF Oh, I almost forgot. You did manage to beat me a couple weeks later. But contrary to what your man Axel said, you had to use a weapon, didn't you? You brought a steel chair into the ring, and busted me open with it before you could get that fall. And not surprisingly, you've ducked me ever since. So the question is, are YOU ready for Atlantic City, Peter? Because you can't hide anymore once April 2nd arrives. Now, I've got a match to prepare for, so if you don't mind. Alf drops the mic and outstretches his hand, wanting to collect his money and go. Knight and Axel share a look and Knight takes the mic from Axel's hand. KNIGHT (To Axel) Look at that, he just went and proved your point. (To Alfdogg) Listen up, "Alfie", what happened nine months ago doesn't mean a damn thing right now. I was "ducking" you? I wouldn't call tearing through the X-Division, with a REAL title belt around my waist by the way, and then reaching the pinnacle of this company while you go screw around with Some Guy in a mall or 70s Dude at a fair"ducking" you. You aren't in my league, Alf. Hell, without a certain someone's "assistance", Zack probably would have sent your ass flying into the fifth row, but hey, you did your job. (Picking up the briefcase) So here you go, happy Groundhog's Day. Knight forcefully tosses the briefcase at Alf, causing him to recoil back a step when he catches it. KNIGHT Don't spend it all before AngleMania, because I have a feeling you might have some medical bills to pay after our match. (To Axel) Let's go. Knight drops the mic and, with Axel, turns to exit the ring but..... ALF That's right, it's Groundhog's Day today. Tell me Peter, did Axel see his shadow when he crawled out of your ass this morning? The crowd laughs at the ZING~! and Knight pauses halfway through the ropes. Smirking, he nods his head and steps back in. COLE Uh oh. Axel stands on the apron as Knight picks his mic back up. KNIGHT Cute. Real cute the way you have to get the last laugh in there. Guess being the BUTT of every joke got a little tiring, eh Alf? I know you said that just to get me back in here so (gets in Alf's face) the question is, what are you going to do now? Alf smirks and takes a step back to put down the briefcase. He sticks the mic in his tights and makes a big spectacle of cracking his neck and stretching out before grabbing the mic again. ALF This. *SMACK* Alf fires off a right hand, which is quickly returned by Knight, triggering a slugfest that sets the crowd off. "YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" COLE Here we go, a preview of AngleMania! Knight wins the slugfest, backing Alf into the ropes as Axel cheers him on from the apron. Knight shoots him off and goes for a clothesline, but Alf ducks it and bounces off the opposite ropes, leaping into Knight and taking him down with a Lou Thesz press before peppering him with rights on the mat. "YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" COLE Lou Thesz press! COACH Alf is signing his own death warrant. He pops up as Axel screams insults at him from the apron. Quickly shifting his weight to his right leg, he takes a step towards him and smacks Axel with a superkick, sending him tumbling off the apron and to the floor. "YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" COACH HEY! He hit the General Manager! He should lose his title shot for that. CABOOSE Oh shove it. I've been waiting for someone to do that for a month. COLE Wait, look, Knight has the briefcase! Indeed, Knight is holding the briefcase up, waiting for Alf to turn around. As he does, Knight swings, but Alf ducks underneath that as well. The momentum knocks Knight off balance, causing him to drop the briefcase and, as he turns around, Alf leaps and scores with a standing dropkick to the jaw, knocking Knight down. COLE Look at what Alfdogg is doing to the champion! CABOOSE And now he's got the briefcase! Alf waggles the briefcase like a bat, waiting for Knight to get back to his feet and turn. Groggily, Knight stumbles to his feet, turns..... *THUMP* ....and gets a Samsonite to the skull, knocking him down again. "YEAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" Alf grabs his feet and slides him closer to the corner before stepping out onto the apron and putting one foot on the bottom turnbuckle, thrusting his hand into the air with five fingers outstretched. "DO IT!!" "DO IT!!" "DO IT!!" "DO IT!!" "DO IT!!" COACH No! Get up, Peter! COLE Alf is going for the Five Star Alf Splash on the champion!! Alf ascends the turnbuckles, but Axel, having come to his senses again, reaches into the ring and pulls Knight out, both men trying to shake the cobwebs out as they retreat up the aisle. "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" As Axel and PK stand in the aisle, Alf stands on the middle rope and holds up the briefcase. He then picks up his mic again. ALF You know...a lot of people like to say that wrestling is just one big soap opera. Well, you know, they're right in a way. Because right know, Alfdogg is in Another World! And Peter, your time with that belt is ticking away...just like sands through the hourglass. The crowd cheers as Alf holds up the briefcase once again and Magnum Opus: Father Padilla Meets the Perfect Gnat/Howling at the Moon plays. Any boos we had heard during his entrance are gone, replaced by loud cheering. COACH Alfdogg just made the biggest mistake of his career. We were willing to give him his props for taking care of Zack, but that is out the window. Axel is going to do something about this. CABOOSE Oh yeah, Alf looks REAL concerned in there right now. COLE Well guys, if this explosive beginning to HeldDOWN is any indication, we're in for a hell of a show. Do not change the channel. (GO TO BREAK) Fade in to an empty arena, shots of the empty seats are spliced with the image of a single spotlight iluminating an empty ring. The ghostly echo of cheering is heard as the camera pans around the ring as voices and images from the past appear almost as a dream. AngleMania I JR: Good Evening, BAH GAWD, and Welcome to AngleMania (echo)...Mania....Mania..... HHH refuses to tap saying he'll never job to AS! Chris Jericho appears through the crowd and tells the Time Keeper to ring the bell! DINGDINGDING! FINK The winner of the Match and NEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWW One & Only AngleSault Thread HeavyWeight Champion of the World, AngleSault!!!!!!!!!!!!!. [/b]AngleMania II[/b] POP DROP! POP DROP! ZACK MALIBU COVERS! 1... 2... 3! * DING DING DING * The crowd ERUPTS. People jump to their feet. Zack Malibu, completely spent, rolls off of Anglesault and onto his back. A shot of Zack holding the belt aloft is added in JR HE DID IT, JESS! BAH GAWD, WE HAVE A NEW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION....ION....ION. AngleMania III ...SCHOOL'S OUT ON CALVIN STOPS HIM DEAD IN HIS TRACKS~! Malibu collapses across Calvin's body, not even able to hook a leg, as this cover is purely out of desperation! Earl Hebner slaps the canvas, as the crowd counts along... OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE!! TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! COLE YES~! HE DID IT~! HE DID IT~! Another shot of Zack with the belt is added as more cheering is heard. AngleMania IV Axel jumps up -- AND SPIKES THE HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION INTO THE MAT WITH A SECOND CONSECUTIVE AXEL SLAM! The count is made. COLE HE DID IT! HE DID IT! AXEL HAS DID IT! COACH WE HAVE A NEW HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION! AND HIS NAME IS AXEL! Now.....an event five years in the making....... Cut to a montage of the current OAOAST stars in action, including Leon Rodez, Alfdogg, Zack Malibu, Chicks Over Dicks, GPX, Tha Puerto Rican and more. The footage speeds up, the images becoming more and more of a blur until we quickly cut back to the empty arena, where now one man stands in the middle of the ring, though his identity is obscured. He looks around the arena as the camera gets in closer. He turns toward it and reveals...... Anglesault, smiling like a proud papa. The image fades out, replaced by..... Coming April 2nd Trump Taj Mahal, Atlantic City, New Jersey Fade out. (RETURN FROM BREAK) Alf gets to his dressing room with the briefcase of money, and sees Reject sitting inside. REJECT Hey. I left so quick last night, and I was so mad, I never got a chance to congratulate you. Reject sticks his hand out, and Alf shakes it. ALF Thanks. Alf sets the briefcase on a bench. REJECT You know, you really owe me, though. ALF What for? REJECT Well, I like to think I had a hand in softening up Zack in order for you to pick up the bounty. (Reject starts to grin) I mean, when that steel chair cracked off his head, BOOM! (makes swinging motion) ALF (interrupting) Look. Last night wasn't about the money for me. I was out there to go through 29 guys and get a shot at Peter Knight for the World title. If I can pick up a little pocket cash on the way, fine. REJECT I understand that. But you did still get that bounty largely because of me, I mean...you REALLY (eyes briefcase) owe me. Alf sighs, and hands Reject a few wrapped stacks of benjamins. ALF Just don't tell TK, okay? Reject walks out of the room with a big smile on his face as Alf prepares for his match. (FADE OUT)

(We're whisked backstage were Alix Maria Spezia (huge pop!) is banging on a dressing room door. What makes this so odd is that Alix is knocking on her own dressing room door) ALIX Krista, I know you're really mad at Ned, but please come out! (No response from Krista, who's obviously on the other side of the door) ALIX Krissy, please come out and talk to me! (Still no response) ALIX Please, just come out! You don't even have to talk! You can just put a mask of Ned on me, and punch me in the face if ya really want, just come out! ALIX Krista! If you don't come out, I'm gonna sing! Do you want that? Do you want millions of people world wide to be scared for eternity by my singing? I'm gonna do it! Don't make me do it! I'll do it! Here it goes, last chance, (Alix starts singing) Because of yoooou, I nevvvverrr stray to faaaar from the sidwaaaaaalk! Because of yooooou I learn to play on the safe siiiiide soooo I don't get huuuuuurt! Hey, that wasn't so bad. Not any worse then the chick who sings this show's theme song. Krista! (Alix doesn't hear a peep from Krista) ALIX Okay, you've done it now! You forced me to use your real name KRISTA TYLER MYRICK, you get out here right this instant, missy! ALIX Oh poopie! Please, come out here! Pretty please with eighty gazillion chocolate covered cherries on top and lots and lots of sprinkles! I know you're mad, but you're my best friend! Come on! Uh, I have this keg of crisp and refreshing Coors Light, brewed fresh in the cool mountain streams of the Colorado Rockies. But woe is me, I have no one to share it with. If only I could find someone with an affinity for the sweet hops of a fine brew. Krista? (Nothing. Alix is forced to resort to some sneaky tactics) ALIX Oh no! There's a young boy Mexican being harassed by an elderly white southern republican! The republican is assimilating him into American society, and forcing him to shun the customs, moors and values that make up his rich and beautiful culture! If only there was someone to stop this greedy white man from using the little Mexican boy as cheap and mistreated labor while still denying him his basic human rights such as health care and education! Krista? (Although she again gets no response, Alix refuses to get up) ALIX Oh wow! Can you believe this! I'm on Guess.com, right now and they are having a sale on cropped cardigans! Oh, this green apple one is soooo cute. And there's only one left! I wish I knew someone who loved green apple cardigans! ALIX Krista! Please don't shut me out! (Growing exhausted, Alix presses her face against the door and slowly sinks down to her knees). Okie dokie artichokie. Fine. I'll just wait here. Forever. Until I grow old. I'll never get married. I'll never have kids. I'll never have grandkids. I'll just have a nasty best friend who thinks she can't talk to me. Hooray. (We go from one half of wrestling's first couple to other) The camera cuts to the backstage area. Leon Rodez exits the lockerroom, causing the crowd to pop. He is about to head to the ring when… COLOMBIAN HEAT Yo, dawg! Leon turns around, and sees COLOMBIAN HEAT, JOHN “ROCK HARD” BRICKSTON, SPANISH FLY, and OTAKU II standing behind him. The crowd cheers for the four of them. LEON RODEZ Uh…yo…homie. What’s up? COLOMBIAN HEAT I hear dat Tha Puerto Rican is pissed off at you. LEON RODEZ Yeah? So? A lot of people are pissed off at me. Example: All of the Upstarts. OTAKU II Yeah? Well, he’s gunning for you. RODEZ Well if that’s the case, bring it on! PRL, a.k.a. “Rock Jr.”, doesn’t scare me! JOHN “ROCK HARD” BRICKSTON See, that’s the thing. You’re underestimating Tha Puerto Rican. You don’t consider him much of a threat, and that WILL come back to haunt you. Trust me. I know from experience. SPANISH FLY So do I. OTAKU II Me too. COLOMBIAN HEAT Yeah. PRL is tougher than you think. LEON RODEZ All right. So, what do you guys want with lil’ old me anyway? COLOMBIAN HEAT Well, we wants to be your bodyguards when you go out there and do The Love Shack. PRL is pissed, so it’ll only be a matter of time before he interrupts, and we want to be there when it happens. OTAKU II Yeah. And PRL will most definitely bring The Lightning Crew with him. BRICKSTON And as much as I hate to admit it, the numbers game will overpower you, and there’s a good chance you’ll be at the mercy of Tha Puerto Rican. We’ve all experienced it before. SPANISH FLY Yeah. So, let us stand by your side and watch your back. LEON RODEZ Hmmmm. Rodez thinks this over. He even puts his hand underneath his chin and taps his foot. RODEZ Thanks. But no thanks. While I appreciate the gesture, I’m going to have to pass on it. I’ve dealt with my fair share of pricks and assholes before, and I’ve come out on top. I don’t think I’ll suddenly start needing backup now. If PRL interrupts, he better JUST BRING IT, because Leon Rodez WILL lay the smackdown on his candy ass IF YA SMELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL WHAT THE LEON RODEZ… Leon does some weird hand signals. RODEZ …IS COOKING! Leon does the People’s Eyebrow. The crowd loves it. COLOMBIAN HEAT A’ight then. Good luck, bro. LEON RODEZ Thanks…my nizzle. Colombian Heat pauses, and looks at Leon…and then high fives him. The other three enemies of PRL wish Leon good luck too. Leon waves goodbye and walks off. COLE The Love Shack LIVE~! in the ring! It’s next! (FADE OUT) LOVE SHACK COLE Well, fans, as we saw earlier tonight, the scheduled Heavenly Rockers-Los Diablos de Fuego Anderson Cup did not take place due to the heinous assault Los Diablos received at the hands of the South Central Militia. During the break our broadcast colleague Terry Taylor caught up with the South Central Miltia as they were being escorted out of the building by security. TERRY Gentlemen. Gentlemen, please, a moment of your time. What in the world were you trying to prove in your attack on Los Diablos de Fuego? MARCELLUS It was ugly, man. Ugly. TERRY What is he talking about, Vincent? What was ugly? VINCENT You said we attacked them Diablos, right? There's three sides to every story, your side, my side, and the truth. TERRY That's what I'm trying to find out. Give me your story, give me your take on the truth. VINCENT That's exactly what you're gonna get. But this ain't no take. This IS the truth. The general public has a misconception about Moe and me. They think we're thugs, a couple of gangbangers from South Central L.A., the baddest place on this earth. We ain't thugs. We're just a couple of Joes trying to make a livin', that's all. We might break a few rules here and there, but we treat people with the same amount of respect that they show us. Which brings me to Los Diablos. I ain't trying to say nothing about nobody, but...naw, I ain't gonna speak ill bout nobody. Go on 'bout your way. We just need to pray for the best, cuz I don't think Los Diablos is gonna make it. TERRY No! Ill is good! Ill brings ratings, ratings brings money, money brings food to the table. Let me have ill. I need ill. MARCELLUS Go on and speak that truth, Whitey. Proceed to give this man what he needs. VINCENT They thought we was ho's or something. I know I ain't no ho. Moe know he ain't no ho. Los Diablos thought we was ho's. We had to show 'em how hard we run in this bitch. They didn't treat us with respect. So we returned the favor. Ain't that right, Moe? MARCELLUS We gotta little somethin' in this country called the right to protect yo neck. We didn't attack nobody. It was pure self-defense, guarding our bumpers. You see, these homos-- I mean, homies came onto us in the locker room, man. They talked about talking us into the shower and scrubbing us from head to toe and everywhere in-between with soap. One of 'em got up in my ear like the Ying Yang twins “Wait till you see my OH! Wait till you see my OH!” The other one's all up there acting like he Fergie trying to get me to touch his lovely lady humps. Man, I ain't trying to mix his milk with my cocco puff. I don't want no drama. No, no, no, no drama. We done tried and told the youngbloods we just don't rock the boat that way. That's when they became angry. I ain't never seen no mad homos-- homies in my life, so imagine my surprise when these guys got up in our grills, pissed because we didn't want to engage in some man love. They started turning the locker room upside down, throwing chairs around and shit. They was going crazier then the bitch who dumped hot grits on Al Greene. We tried and talk 'em down, saying be calm and cool, don't be no fool. That's when shit got slim and shady, man. Next thing I know we found ourselves down on the ground, on the defensive. I ain't never been more scared in my life, cousin. This was real, son. Real. We live in LA, we know how Mexicans throw down, but forget throw down, these dudes wanted to go down. They were going for our pants, man. Our pants. ]TERRY I haven't had someone go for my pants in ten years. MARCELLUS This was straight up rape, no doubt. No means no -- no matter if you man or woman, yo. Everything after that is clear as day. The fight was out, so we had to knock they lights out. We proceed to take them boys to the woodshed, splitting they wigs and busting straight through they cerebellum. Shit look like someone took a machete to a watermelon. We was running them like a Red Cross blood drive, but we was taking blood by the liter, not the pint I had blood on my hands, and it wasn't the blood of Christ. That's when it hit me and Vinny. (sarcastically sobbing) We looked up to the heavens and like that bright light shining down on us. It was a sign from above. The Lord was telling us it's time to change our ways, to renounce violence and live a better life. It may be too late for Tookie, but it ain't too late for us. Mariachi and Moracca, my brothers, I ask for your forgiveness and your hand in prayer. Together as one we can make a difference. What better way to make a difference than for you to give us your spot in the Anderson Cup so we can spread our message of hope and peace. My brothers, we are praying for you. And remember, God wants you to give us your spot. We love you. Thank you, brother Taylor. TERRY Thank you, gentlemen. You know, now that I'm told your offer to replace Los Diablos in the Anderson Cup has been denied, maybe you'd like to come to church with me this Sunday. VINCENT Denied?! MARCELLUS What'coo talkin' about, Taylor? TERRY In the middle of your wonderful and heartwarming sermon, Marcellus, I was informed through my earpiece that General Manager Axel has turned down your offer. The Heavenly Rockers advance to the Los Infernales Conference Finals via a bye. MARCELLUS THE FUCK?! TERRY (flabbergasted) Excuse me? It's trying times like these, where you really need to ask yourself, what would Jesus do? And I don't think Jesus would respond quite the way you did. MARCELLUS If Jesus ain't no punk ass faggot, Jesus is gonna be doing a drive by from Green Bay to the OAOAST offices, lighting bitches up like a switchboard. CORNETTE (Off-Screen) (panting) Guys, guys, guys. About to keel over from exhaustion, Jim Cornette holds himself up by grabbing onto Marcellus. VINCENT What the hell is going on, Cornette? You said you had an in with Axel. And as you can see, apparently we're in the out. CORNETTE I-I don't know what happened. I gave Axel all the pros of allowing you to replace Los Diablos, but he went on and on about how the fans love the Heavenly Rockers and how ratings shoot through the roof when they appear on TV. I then told him about the lack of competition they've had to face in the Anderson Cup, while you guys had to go up against the # 2 seed in the tournament, only for Axel to tell me he doesn't care what you're concerned about as long as he accomplishes 3 things: run Zack Malibu out of the OAOAST, increase company profits and therefore his own salary. MARCELLUS So I said all that shit for nothing?! Cornette, you bastard! You got the belts, you got yo block on fire, and we're left on in the goddamn cold! CORNETTE No, no, no. I would never leave you guys high and dry. We have a deal and I fully intend to live up to my end of it. Look, let's go discuss this some place more private, huh? Cornette laughs neverously as the SCM nod their heads in agreement. Security finishes escorting the men out of the building. TERRY (shouting) Does this mean we're off for Sunday? COACH You were never on, moron! What's next?

(RETURN FROM BREAK) The synthesized sounds that characterize Chase ooze out of the arena's sound system. In an almost Pavlovian response, the crowd comes alive with a hearty round of boo's. Their jeers reach a heated crescendo when the entrance doors pair apart, revealing three time tag team champions the New New Midnight Express! COLE Folks, like it or not, and I sure as heck find myself in the not group, but these two men, Simon Singleton and Ned Blanchard made OAOAST history when they became the first ever three time tag team champions. COACH What's there not to like? A pair of legends came together to beat a makeshift tag team made that disrespected all the other great tag teams every day they held those titles. Outfitted in the latest line of K-Mart casual wear, Simon Singleton, and his much better dressed manager, enter the ring first, bursting with pride. Ned, wearing faded dark blue jeans and a black tank top, lingers on the outside, taunting the front row fans with his share of the gold. Eventually the Handsome Hustler enters the ring, where he and his comrades draw a heaping round of hatred when the they throw up their trademark X sign. COLE Coach, I don't know what you're talking about. Zack Malibu and Leon Rodez are a real team! COACH Oh? Is that so? Well, if they're a real tag team, let's see if they keep wrestling tag team matches now that they've lost the belts. A real team doesn't just go into singles the second they drop their straps. (Simon takes hold of a microphone, surprising just about everyone in the arena as no on really expected to hear him speak) SIMON As your eyes can plainly see we're in the ring... “THANK YOU CAPTIAN OBVIOUS!” a front row fan interrupts the Sultan of Sarcasm. SIMON And I'd thank you to keep your mouth shut before I have this title belt smashing you flush in the face. Do you know why we're in the ring, and not backstage, or at an interview stage being talked down to by a condescending bleeding heart announcer like Terry Taylor or Tony Macaroni? That was a joke, by the way, I know his name is Schiavone. Because we own this ring. This is the Midnight Express' ring. Someone should tear down this HeldDOWN and OAOAST garbage on the aprons, and put up the letters N, N, M and X, the acronym of the true owners of this squared circle. This so-called war between the Upstarts and the Originals, is an example of two groups wasting their time fighting over property that does not belong to them. They are battling each other for something that rightfully belongs to the most legendary tag team in the history of professional wrestling, The Midnight Express. Forget the Lethal Rumble, forget Axel's bounty, forget all the other crap you saw on Anglepalooza, and focus on the one match that truly mattered, the match in which The Midnight Express dished out some vigilante justice and stole back what was robbed from them those many months ago. Our tag team titles. (Coach stands up and applauds while the rest of the disgusted audience boos Singleton's arrogant statement) SIMON They often say success breed jealousy. And at this very moment, I can only imagine there's about forty workers in the back who are looking like the Jolly green giant, because they're feeling green with envy right now, because they are looking at the three most successful individuals in the entire history of the OAOAST. We are three time tag team champions! I dare you to name another team that can boast that claim. GPX can't say that! When's the last time they even won a match? The Sk8er Boiz can't say that. Black T can't say that. Chicks Over Dicks can't say that. The Heavenly Rockers can't say that. Heck, they haven't even had a chance to win these belts because we keep kicking their ass and putting them on the injured list! We're the only team that can say it. We are the beginning, middle and end of tag team wrestling. All discussions of who is the greatest tag team in the OAOAST ends when the clock strikes Midnight. You can hate us all you want, but that doesn't change the fact that we're better then you. Regimes may crumble, authority figures may rise to power, individuals may fall from grace, but in the OAOAST one thing stays as steady as a metronome, that is the continued success of the Midnight Express. Jimmy, Ned, let us celebrate as partners, as friends, as competitors...as brothers. “AND AS FAGGOTS!” an inebriated fan shouts out. (Comfortable with their sexuality, the three men come together for the manliest of hugs!) COLE I didn't know it was possible for him to talk that long. That has to be some kind of personal record. (Simon passes the mic to his partner in crime Ned Blanchard.) NED I'm the man, and I've always been the man! And why am I the man, you ask? I'll tell you why The Handsome Hustler is the man. Because the Handsome Hustler is a winner. Down on your luck? Need to make a quick buck? Bet on a Ned Blanchard match, that cat's sure to come out on top! No matter what obstacles and hindrances set themselves in my path I overcome. With every victory not only do I stay the man, but I become better then ever. But when you're a success, there will always be someone looking to try and shoot you down. As sure as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, I can assure you there will always be a legion of nay-sayers and bring downs ready to crash the Ned's Man never ending victory party. Since I stepped foot into the OAOAST in 2004, people have tried bog me down with their bullshit morals and their sissy ethics. I can't a wipe my own ass around here without someone riding in on their high horse and throwing a hissy fit! If I had a dollar for every time someone here has condemned me to hell, I'd be able to buy the joint from Satan himself. I believe I'm a persecuted wrestling legend. I am scrutinized, criticized, and then demonized like no one before me. Every move that I make, I have to worry about you all in the media trying to make me look like I'm worse then Pol Pot. And you know what? Maybe I am. Maybe I'm everything that you say I am. But, I like it. I enjoy being the bad guy. It gets me off. It turns me on. I like knowing I'm the reason Holly's too afraid to leave her own house. I liked watching Jade squirm against my grip, as she feared my little warrior was riding in on it's Trojan horse about to lay waste to her woman hood. I love knowing that I've left Krista with wounds that time will never heal. That makes me hot and that makes me hard. “BOOOOOOO!” SIMON Go ahead and boo him. Ned is a winner, and that's all that matters. NED Ya got that right, pal! I've won three tag team titles, and the best is yet to come. Every time out the Ned man guarantees results, and baby, the Handsome Hustler get the results and then some. And if some eighteen year old slut has to be traumatized, if some rockstar's whore girlfriend has to get her neck broken, and if some blond happy go-lucky surfer chick has to be turned into a depressive alcoholic shrew, then tough shit for them, the Handsome Hustler is gonna keep on winning. “YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK!” chant the fans. NED Let me ask all of you a very important question. And I want you to really lend serious thought to your answer. Who do you sleep with at night and wake up with in the morning? Your principals and your ideals? Those are two things that will get you nowhere. They are the reason you're in the stands, booing me like I give a damn what you think, and I am in the ring being celebrated as a grappling Jesus. I go to sleep with a blond on my right, a brunette on my left, and I wake up with the world in the palm of my hands. Here's somethi... (Ned's attention is caught by a middle aged woman in the front row holding a sign that simply reads NED=Deadbeat. The Handsome one turns angry, eyebrows raised, nose flaring. After a quick shoulder massage from Jimmy Cornette, Ned settles down enough to speak) NED You think I'm a deadbeat, huh? Wrong. Every month I pay my child support. If I didn't, I'd be in jail and not in this ring giving every last one of you one hell of an inferiority complex. A child is like an investment, understand. Most of you will pour hundreds and thousands of dollars into your pissant brats, that you only have because you forgot the old adage “if there's gonna be affection, cover your erection”, and what'll you have to show for it? Resentment, depleted retirement funds that'll keep you shoveling shit until your eighty or they outsource shit shoveling to India, and grand kids that piss on your carpet then blame it on a dog you don't even have! Even when it comes to children, the Ned Man is a step above the rest. Little Maya is like my personal bluechip stock. But better. She's guaranteed results, baby. The girl is five years old and already in second grade. SIMON Most of these people were old enough to shave by the time they got out of second grade. JIM CORNETTE NED See, my daughter is a child prodigy. She comes from the sperm of one half of the greatest tag team in OAOAST history and from the womb of an entertainment icon. With her as my kid, I am made for life. Fire me! I don't care! I have no fear! Maya is my social security! My little girl is gonna make her daddy a very rich man. And she won't treat me like dirt and cut me out of my fair share of the pot of gold like that tramp Lindsay Loahn did to her dad. Unlike Lindsay, my daughter respects the man. She'll build me up so high, that god himself couldn't tear me down! SIMON It's just a shame that sweet Maya is being poisoned against you by an ignorant and vengeful woman. (Cornette takes the microphone to offer his take on Ned's situation.) CORNETTE Poor Ned Blanchard! Ned is the product of purposeful misdirection and misinformation from a partial media! When I think of Ned, and the shameful way he's been treated by fans, wrestlers, journalist, and his own ex-girlfriend, I think about the tragic plight of former basketball great Isiah Thomas, now under siege by a bogus sexual harassment charge from a gold-digging sea hag. Poor Isiah! Poor Ned! Oh, it breaks my heart! Two legends within their industry who should be hailed for their greatness and substantial achievements and contributions to their sport, are instead reduced to the state of sexual predators by vindicative Jezebels and cold blooded she-demons. What happened to Jade Rodez wasn't the epitome of debauchery that effeminate schmuck Michael Cole likes to portray at as. In the mind of any clear thinking viewer, it was obvious that it just an innocent man trying to have himself little fun,as boys like to do, and an uptight young woman taking it the wrong way. Ned even offered to have her meet him in his hotel room so he could apologize in person. But of course the biased media omits that, because good guy Ned doesn't move tickets! But misrepresenting Ned as the villain does put butts in their precious seats. But Ned didn't do it for the attention. Ned did it for poor Jade Rodez. That's the kind of man Ned Blanchard is. He'll apologize for a wrong he didn't even commit just to uplift a young lady's meager self esteem! Can Ned Blanchard be blamed if she wouldn't accept his gracious invite? It's not his fault she wishes to besmirch The Handsome Hustler's name to gain her fifteen minutes of fame! (Cornette pauses to sob gently) COLE Give me a break. CORNETTE Years ago, a once in a lifetime specimen like Ned Blanchard would've been showered with the respect and adoration of everyone within the ranks of pro wrestling. A true master of the ring like him would've been put on the pedestal as the ideal star of the stage on the level of greats like Flair, Steamboat and Hart. That's when the business was still “the business”. Woe is me! These days wrestling is a joke, ran by backyarders, tape traders, and Hollywood hack washouts. And this current “business” creates a culture where a man, a superior athlete, like Ned is considered a bad guy, a talented stud like Simon Singleton is called boring because he has no personality, and someone like Alix Spezia, who should be bumping and grinding a pole in some strip club in Long Beach, is hailed as an innovative young starlet. Excuse me, I'm starting to get broken up. I...I..need a moment (Simon provides Jim a comforting hug, while softly singing Lean on me into his ears.) COACH Take your time, Jimmy. The fans start up a spontaneous Krista chant, which merely spurs on Ned's rant. NED What about Krista? This is a woman who's entire world is caving in on her! You are watching the curtain close on Krista Isadora Duncan. Everything she stands for is turning around and biting her in the ass. Her ideals, everything and everyone she's loved has become the main source of her pain. The only person who's ever had the kindness to stick by her for any length of time, her own partner, Alix Maria Spezia, got so sick of her high handed treatment, she did a 180 on Kris' staunch anti-man philosophy and went running as far away from her as she could right into the arms of a....man. The crowd responses with a spirited chant for Alix Spezia. NED And Alix, please, for the love of nymphomaniacs around the world, stop calling me in my hotel room at 3 a.m. I know Leon is half the man that he once was since losing the belts... Well, he never was really much of a man in the first place. But I know you're looking for a real man now. However, contrary to popular belief, I do have some morals. COLE Yeah right. NED Who do you think our daughter is more proud of, Krista? The parent holding a championship belt that symbolizes his immortality? Or the parent holding the bottle of Scotch that symbolizes her inability to get a handle on reality. You may be richer then I am, Krista, you may even be more famous then I am, but you are not as successful as I am. Krista, your star is fading. Your window is closing. Your eggs are rotting. In your world hope is an extinct animal. Death, despair, and depression, thrives and multiplies. Time for a handsome dose of reality, you are thirty odd years old, your partner is three months away from the big 3-0. The best years of your life are kaput, you are finishing them out not with a bang, but with a whimper! Your last gasp isn't a gasp of orgasm in my arms like it should've been, it's just a pathetic cry for help. But guess what? No one will ever help you, because you're not worth it. You're not even worth the breath I wasted cutting this promo! All your life, you've dreamed of living in the spotlight, but the last light you'll ever see is the one from the emergency room ceiling, beating down on you while the doctor tries in vain to detox the alcohol poisoning out of you. You bitch and you complain, and you make these pathetic ploys for sympathy about how I'm not the Ned you used to know? You're right. And every day I'm one my knees thanking the good lord above for that. The old Ned was the very embodiment of the word failure. That Ned was a loser. Everything he did, everything he worked his ass off to accomplish, you would do bigger and you would do better. He was a parasite who had to depend on you for everything. This Ned is a winner. He depends on no one but himself! He only looks to the mirror if he needs some help! This Ned is the king of the OAOAST and a champion for women's rights. The right to kneel at the alter of Blanchard to swallow a dose of greatness! (Ned slams down the microphone with finality in his actions, and the ire of the crowd cloaking him. The legendary trio exits the ring, holding their smug heads high in the face of the hatred they encounter.) COLE These are the three most disgusting men in the OAOAST! Ned sits there and basically he admits he's scum, then Cornette comes in and justifies his terrible personality, then Simon stands there grinning like an idiot, because he has his titles and that's all he cares about. Those titles are just objects. Ned hurts people. COACH Ned's hard. Most dudes measure successful breakups by the amount of chicks they've turned lesbos, Ned goes the extra mile and throws in amount of hours spent in group therapy. We salute you Ned! COLE Let's just try and move on. (OTAKU MATCH) *KA-CHING~!* *Come and take your Vitamin X.* “Bling-Bling” by The B.G. featuring The Big Tymers and Hot Boys starts playing, causing the crowd to start booing loudly. The entrance doors slide open, and Vitamin X storms out, doing the Shane-O-Mac Shuffle, annoying the crowd even more. X tries to get the crowd fired up, but they are booing him nonstop. Dollar signs are superimposed over the entrance ramp as he walks to the ring, bobbing his head to the beat of his entrance song. X is wearing a black dress shirt, a gold chain around his neck, black dress pants, a $500 Rolex watch, and black dress shoes. He has a smug look on his face. COLE And now, here comes a man who had quite the night at Anglepalooza last Sunday! First, Vitamin X and Cuban Wall, Brains & Brawn, defeated John Brickston and Spanish Fly in a Tag Team Tables Match. THEN, Vitamin X, along with Stephen Joseph Popick, were in Tha Puerto Rican’s corner, when he took on Colombian Heat for the 24/7 Title. Heat defeated Tha Puerto Rican and became the 24/7 Champion, but he was screwed by Vitamin X and Stephen Joseph! CABOOSE Mikey, aren’t you forgetting the reason WHY Colombian Heat is not the 24/7 Champion? It’s because Thomas Rodriguez isn’t an official OAOAST referee! His decision didn’t count. Popick and X just made sure to let everyone know this just in the nick of time! Vitamin X jaws with some fans. He hops onto a turnbuckle, and crosses his arms in an X. The crowd boos loudly. X just looks at the crowd in disgust. COLE Well, why did Vitamin X and Stephen Joseph wait so long to tell everyone that Thomas Rodriguez isn’t an actual referee? Why do it RIGHT AFTER Colombian Heat won the match? Explain that! CABOOSE Because they had no reason to! How many matches has Thomas refereed in the past few weeks, months? NONE! THAT’S why they didn’t bother to tell anybody till Sunday. Because they had no reason to! Thomas wasn’t even doing any refereeing! COLE I have a hard time believing that. I believe VX and Popick had this planned out ever since PRL announced that he would fight Heat for the 24/7 Title back in December. This was their backup plan just incase Puerto lost. CABOOSE You’re looking too much into this. I suggest you stop with the conspiracy theories and concentrate on calling HeldDOWN~!. Vitamin X hops off the turnbuckle. “Bling-Bling” continues playing. X does the Shane-O-Mac Shuffle again, laughing evilly. He then does the “raise the roof” gesture, but gets middle fingers in return. VX calls for a microphone. COACH Vitamin X lost the Lethal Rumble, but it looks like he’s taking it well, since he seems to be in a good mood today! COLE I honestly think that PRL beating Colombian Heat was more important than PRL or VX winning the Lethal Rumble. Beating Colombian Heat was The Lightning Crew’s main objective at Anglepalooza. CABOOSE And may I just say: Mission Accomplished! VX gets a microphone. He looks at the crowd, smiling. He does the Shane-O-Mac Shuffle one more time. “Bling-Bling” by The B.G. featuring The Big Tymers and Hot Boys dies down. The crowd showers X with boos. ”X’S A PUSS-SEE!” *Clap Clap Clapclapclap* “X’S A PUSS-SEE!” *Clap Clap Clapclapclap* “X’S A PUSS-SEE!” *Clap Clap Clapclapclap* “X’S A PUSS-SEE!” *Clap Clap Clapclapclap* CABOOSE HE IS NOT! X just looks at the crowd. VITAMIN X So Green Bay feels the same way about The X-Man, as does the rest of the world? “YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!” VX That’s okay. I’m okay with that. If that’s how you feel, let it out. Because… “X’S A PUSS-SEE!” *Clap Clap Clapclapclap* “X’S A PUSS-SEE!” *Clap Clap Clapclapclap* VITAMIN X SHUT UP!!! “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” VX Ahem. As I was saying, before I was so RUDELY interrupted, you can chant anything you want at The X-Man, because, whether you like it or not, Colombian Heat is NOT the 24/7 Champion! The crowd boos. X (CONT’D) So, your chants will not bother me. Because Puerto Rican, Stephen Joseph, and myself did what we set out to do last Sunday at Anglepalooza. We made sure that Colombian Heat did NOT, under any circumstances, become 24/7 Champion! COLE One of the biggest screwjobs in OAOAST history! VITAMIN X Now, here’s something you people may not know. You see, even though Stephen Joseph Popick is a former World Heavyweight Champion, the former leader of Inten5e, and a member of OAOAST Corporate, it was not him that came up with what we did last Sunday. While Popick pulled the trigger, it was ME who put the bullet in the gun. I was the one who came up with the idea to screw over Colombian Heat by revealing that Thomas Rodriguez is not an official OAOAST referee! I knew Thomas wasn’t an actual referee for 5 MONTHS, but it wasn’t until last Sunday that I revealed it to the rest of the OAOAST. All I had to do was wait for the right moment, and I did. And what a moment it was. There he was, Colombian Heat, celebrating with Tha Puerto Rican’s 24/7 Title belt, thanking God that he was now the 24/7 Champion! The fans were going crazy, the announcer’s were proclaiming that Colombian Heat was better than PR. And then, we execute Plan B. In one moment, not even 5 minutes after Heat “won” the match, we took it all away from him! We took away his moment in the sun! WE took away the biggest win of his career! WE TOOK IT ALL AWAY! VX pauses to let the fans boo. COLE Despicable. VITAMIN X So, Plan B was a success. Tha Puerto Rican was able to leave Anglepalooza STILL the 24/7 Champion! And if you want to blame somebody for that, don’t blame Tha Puerto Rican, don’t blame Stephen Joseph Popick, blame ME! I SCREWED COLOMBIAN HEAT! I AM THE REASON HE IS NOT THE 24/7 CHAMPION! IT’S BECAUSE OF ME! IT’S ALL THANKS TO ME! And you know what? If I could, I’D DO IT AGAIN! VX laughs evilly. The crowd boos louder. COLE I can’t believe this! He’s proud of what he did! He’s proud that he screwed over Colombian Heat! Has he no shame? Doesn’t he have a heart? CABOOSE Vitamin X did what he had to do to protect PRL and make sure he remained 24/7 Champion. That is all! COLE I can’t believe you’re defending this! CABOOSE I can’t believe you’re blasting this! Vitamin X continues speaking. VX And that is why I made it my duty to make sure that Colombian Heat didn’t walk out of Anglepalooza the 24/7 Champion! Colombian Heat, as Tha Puerto Rican has said in the past, is unfit to wear the 24/7 Title. He is undeserving of that PRESTIGIOUS title! After all the hard work Tha Puerto Rican has done, making the 24/7 Championship mean something, Colombian Heat would make the belt completely meaningless again! And I JUST COULDN’T LET THAT HAPPEN! COACH Way to go, X! VX See, Colombian Heat is nothing more but a piece…of lower class filth. COLE Lower class filth? VX And pieces lower class filth don’t deserve ANYTHING! Pieces of lower class filth sit on their lazy asses all day, smoke weed, play the PlayStation 2, drink beer, and watch B.E.T. Pieces of lower class filth wear clothes 10 sizes too small, speak in a language that isn’t English, and walk like they have a rod stuck up their asses. Pieces of lower class filth would rather go on myspace and listen to their iPods, then read something from Shakespeare and listen to Beethoven. Pieces of lower class filth think that 50 Cent is the greatest musician ever, and that action movies and romantic comedies are the best Hollywood can offer. Pieces of lower class filth love watching reality TV shows and love following the lives of brain dead, untalented celebrities like Paris Hilton and Britney Spears. COACH Nothing wrong with Paris and Britney. HOLLA~! VITAMIN X I DESTEST lower class filth! And that is why I DETEST Colombian Heat, because he represents EVERY SINGLE PERSON that is lower class filth! He is the embodiment of everything I hate about modern society! If Colombian Heat is how people will act in the future, than I fear for the human race. I really do. CABOOSE TESTIFY~! COLE Oh come on. VX So you see, THAT is why I screwed Colombian Heat out of the 24/7 Title! Because I did not, and WOULD NOT stand idly by, and watch a piece of lower class filth beat PRL and become 24/7 Champion! Pieces of lower class filth get NOWHERE in life, and I proved it last Sunday! I showed Colombian Heat that, in the real world, MY way of life, the CORPORATE way of life, is the way to succeed! If you just did like Tha Puerto Rican did, and become Corporate, THEN you would have become 24/7 Champion! But no, oh no, you wanted to “keep it real”. You wanted to stay “true to who you are”. You wanted to remain a piece of lower class filth, and you paid the price! And don’t try to come crawling back to The Lightning Crew! Because we don’t accept lower class filth! It’s only the best of the best. The ELITE that joins The Lightning Crew! And Colombian Heat, I’m afraid that you aren’t one of the elite. HA! HA! HA! HA! Vitamin X stands in the ring with a satisfied look on his face. The crowd boos. COLE Lower class filth? COACH Vitamin X is right! Colombian Heat IS a piece of lower class filth! He is unworthy of wearing the 24/7 Title! CABOOSE I bet Heat doesn’t even get a rematch! COACH I hope not! COLE I still can’t believe what X just said! Colombian Heat is nothing more but lower class filth? CABOOSE He’s telling the truth, Michael. He’s testifying right now! COACH Oh hallelujah! VITAMIN X Now Colombian Heat. I know you’re back there. And I bet you’re offended by what I just said. I understand. So, if you want to fight me right now, go right on ahead! I’ll be here in the ring (starts doing the Shane-O-Mac Shuffle) waiting for you to arrive. You think you can take The X-Man? You think you can take me? Go ahead on! It’s your move. CABOOSE Aw yeah! Vitamin X has just thrown down the punk card! Is Colombian Heat going to pick it up? COACH Not if he has a brain. CABOOSE He doesn’t. COACH Then no. Vitamin X puts his microphone down, and does the Shane-O-Mac Shuffle in the ring. He has an arrogant look on his face. The crowd is still booing. “KILL THE X-MAN!” *Clap Clap Clapclapclap* “KILL THE X-MAN!” *Clap Clap Clapclapclap* “KILL THE X-MAN!” *Clap Clap Clapclapclap* “KILL THE X-MAN!” *Clap Clap Clapclapclap* COACH Well, is Colombian Heat going to come out? COLE I have no idea. CABOOSE He’s a chicken. He won’t come out. Vitamin X gestures for Colombian Heat to come out. He looks at the crowd, who await Heat’s arrival. X starts laughing. VITAMIN X Looks like he ain’t coming out. HA! HA! HA! HA! *Give me fuel Give me fire Give me that which I desire!* “Fuel” by Metallica starts playing, and the crowd CHEERS! Vitamin X’s smile fades away, and turns into a look of fear. COLE Uh-oh! CABOOSE Oh crap. The entrance doors slide open, and John “Rock Hard” Brickston comes out to a loud pop from the crowd! Brickston has no smile on his face tonight. His eyes are locked on Vitamin X in the ring. “Rock Hard” walks down the entrance ramp, not slapping hands; instead, he remains focused on Vitamin X, who is now doing the pee-pee dance. COLE He didn’t get Colombian Heat, but he got someone BIGGER, John Brickston is coming to the ring! COACH Run, VX! Run! GET THE HELL OUT OF THE RING! “Fuel” continues playing as John Brickston points at Vitamin X and saids a few words to him. COLE I take it Brickston is pissed that he and Spanish Fly lost the Tag Team Tables Match last Sunday. CABOOSE Unfortunately, yes. John “Rock Hard” Brickston enters the ring. Vitamin X immediately rolls out of the ring! He looks back at Brickston while jumping over the barricade, and running through the crowd! “Fuel” by Metallica dies down. COLE Would you look at that? Vitamin X is running away from John “Rock Hard” Brickston! CABOOSE He’s not running away. He’s just not ready to fight him yet. Fighting John Brickston is different than fighting Colombian Heat! You know, with the size and all. Once X is ready to fight Brickston, he’ll throw down the punk card. COLE I think John Brickston just threw down the punk card, and Vitamin X refused to pick it up! CABOOSE No he didn’t. No punk card was thrown down at Vitamin X! NONE! Vitamin X runs up to the concession stand. John Brickston continues staring at him, a sneer etched on his face. “Rock Hard” points at X, vowing to crush him the next time they meet. Vitamin X quickly runs away from the concession stand, presumably back to The Lightning Crew dressing room, with the fear of God put in him. JOHN “ROCK HARD” BRICKSTON You better pray to God that we don’t meet again! COLE You heard that? John Brickston will be ready for Vitamin X next time! “Fuel” by Metallica starts playing again. John “Rock Hard” Brickston raises his hands in the air to a loud pop from the crowd. He gets on a second turnbuckle and raises his hands in the air, causing the crowd to cheer. COLE What an interesting turn of events we just witness. Vitamin X dared Colombian Heat to confront him, and instead was met by John “Rock Hard” Brickston! CABOOSE John Brickston is going to pay one of these days. He’s going to wish he never been born after Vitamin X is through with him. COLE Uh-huh. I’m sure he will. CABOOSE What? I’m serious! I’m serious, man! COLE Okay. We’ll be back with more HeldDOWN~! after this! John “Rock Hard” Brickston fires the crowd up on another second turnbuckle. He gets off the second turnbuckle, as we go back to Triple C COLE When we return Green Bay's own Triple Threat will square off with Reject, ThunderKid and the winner of the 2006 Lethal Rumble, Alfdogg. It should be great. Don't miss it. (GO TO BREAK) (RETURN FROM BREAK) Word Up hits and the Triple Threat comes through the curtains to the cheers of the crowd. COLE And here comes the Triple Threat, from right here in Green Bay! And their opponents tonight made it a rough night for them this past Sunday in the Lethal Rumble match, Coach! COACH That's right, Cole, but tonight they can get some redemption along with a shot at the Six-Man tag titles next week! BUFFER The following is a six-man tag team match, scheduled for one fall! Introducing the first team, from GREEN BAY, WISCONSIN! *crowd cheers* At a total combined weight of 675 pounds...Nick, Rick, and Dick...the TRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIPLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEE THHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREAT~!!!!! COACH And the Triple Threat getting a nice response from their hometown crowd! What's the Difference hits and Reject comes through the curtains, greeted by a round of boos. COLE And you hear the response for Reject, obviously this crowd remembering the attack on Zack Malibu this past Sunday! BUFFER Their opponents...introducing first, from New York City, weighing in at 235 pounds...RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREJECT!!!!! COACH Well, I think Reject was just doing what he had to do, Cole! I mean, do you know what it could have meant for him to put Zack out of there last night? God of Thunder hits and the crowd pops LOUDLY as Thunderkid comes through the curtain. COLE And the Triple Threat aren't the only hometown boys in the house tonight! BUFFER From GREEN BAY, WISCONSIN! *crowd cheers* weighing 255 pounds...THUNDERKID!!!!! TK slides into the ring as Magnum Opus: Father Padilla Meets the Perfect Gnat/Howling at the Moon hits and Alfdogg makes his way to the ring. BUFFER And their partner, weighing 240 pounds...he is the OAOAST Heartland champion, and the WINNER of the 2006 Lethal Rumble match...ALFDOGG!!!!! The crowd cheers Alf as he slides into the ring and poses on the turnbuckles with his belt. The two teams converse, and then leave Reject and Rick in the ring. COLE So it'll be Reject in there with I believe this is Rick to start things off. The crowd starts a "Let's go Rick" chant. COLE And this partisan crowd here with the chant of "Let's go Rick" for Rick Garner! Reject takes Rick down with an armdrag, and acts very proud of doing so, drawing more boos from the crowd. Reject and Rick circle the ring once again, and when Reject goes to tie up, Rick returns the favor! Reject runs at Rick again, and gets caught in a side headlock. Rick gets up with Reject, who backs him off into the ropes and then whips him into the other side. Rick ducks a back elbow, and knocks Reject to the mat with a dropkick! Rick wrings the arm, and tags Nick, who comes off the top with a chop! COLE And the Triple Threat working over Reject early here. Nick then wrings the arm, and delivers a couple elbows. He then wrings the arm a second time, as the crowd starts up another chant. "WE WANT DICK!" "WE WANT DICK!" COACH Cole, quit chanting for the Triple Threat, you're supposed to be impartial! COLE I'm not chanting for the Triple Threat! COACH ...then what ARE you chanting for? COLE ... Nick obliges... ...and tags in his brother, Dick. Dick comes in and takes over on the arm, and delivers headbutts to the shoulder area. Dick then delivers a bodyslam to Reject, measures, and attempts a big elbowdrop, but Reject rolls out of the way, and quickly tags TK to the cheers of the crowd. COACH Two Green Bayers in there now, Cole! COLE Let's see if Alf's side fares any better by going to the power game! Dick backs off into his corner, then circles the ring against TK. A tieup, but TK simply shoves Dick back into his corner. Dick tries it again, same result. Dick then tags in Nick, who goes to a rear waistlock. Nick grabs a hammerlock, but TK reaches down and trips him up. Nick uses the free leg to push TK off into the ropes, and monkey flips him across the ring! TK gets up holding his back, and Nick rushes back over to him and gives him an Irish whip. Nick with a leapfrog, then he drops down for another monkey flip, but TK sees this one coming and drops a fist to the face! TK backs off, and Nick recovers and charges TK, but gets caught in a hiptoss! Nick gets right back up and charges again, but this time TK lifts him overhead for a PRESS SLAM~!, and as Rick and Dick come into the ring, TK tosses Nick onto the three of them! COLE Great show of power by TK! Nick bails, as Alf and Reject enter the ring, with Alf delivering a belly-to-belly to Dick, sending him over the top rope! TK then picks up Reject in a suplex and spins him around, with Reject taking Rick over the top rope! COLE And this thing has turned around in a hurry, the Triple Threat have got to regroup and get it together! Nick rolls back into the ring, and tags in Rick. Rick goes to the eyes of TK and whips him into the ropes, but gets taken down with a shoulderblock. TK picks up Rick and delivers a back suplex, then hooks him in a front facelock and tags in Alf. The crowd roars as Alf climbs to the top rope and comes off with a knee to the back, executing a front handspring as he hits the mat. Alf picks up Rick and delivers a snap suplex, followed by a snap legdrop, and a cover... 1... 2... Kickout! COLE First pinall attempt of the match, and Rick Garner kicks out on Alf. Alf picks up Rick and delivers a rollover Samoan drop, rolling right into his corner and tagging Reject in. Reject springs over onto the top rope, and hits Rick with a split-legged moonsault! COLE Great sequence of offense from Alf and Reject, and here's a cover... 1... 2... Kickout! COACH Rick still hanging in there, though! Reject whips Rick into a corner, and follows him in with a spinning wheel kick, carrying himself over the ropes and to the floor on his feet! He then slides back in, and whips him into the other corner, and executes a hurricanrana as Rick staggers out! Cover... 1... 2... Kickout! Reject points to TK, and the crowd responds with cheers. COLE And I think we know what's coming now, Coach, your favorite part of the match! COACH Oh, no it is not! Reject tags TK in, and TK picks up Rick in a hangman's hold. COACH Oh, it is! Reject walks around and gives a buzzsaw kick to the midsection! Rick is in tremendous pain as TK picks him up and delivers a backbreaker! TK measures Rick, then goes to the ropes, but Nick plants a knee to the back! Reject comes into the ring to complain, and Nick climbs in as Rick is getting to his feet. Rick picks up TK in a suplex, and Nick holds TK's legs on his shoulders as Rick plants him with a DDT! COLE OH MY GOD, what a move that was! COACH TK really got planted with that one! Rick climbs out of the ring, leaving Nick with TK. Nick whips TK into the ropes, and delivers a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker! Cover... 1... 2... Kickout! Nick turns over TK and plants a knee in the back, then pulls back on an arm and a leg. COLE And I would presume this is Nick in there right now, we're told that each brother likes to work a specific area of the body, and that Nick likes to work the back. COACH Yeah, you would have to assume that, Cole. Nick continues to wrench back with his knee planted in the back. TK clenches his left fist and starts to shift his body, moving his left side over towards Nick, and nailing him with a left hand! A second! A third, causing Nick to release the hold! TK goes to the ropes, but Nick catches him with a knee to the gut, sending TK for a flip! COLE Well, TK had something going for a brief period of time, but Nick put a stop to that in a hurry! Nick tags out to Dick, who quickly takes TK down with a Dragon Screw! He then picks up TK and goes for an Irish whip, but TK reverses and Dick ends up in a corner. However, Dick gets the knees up on a charge, and hops to the second rope, pulling TK back in by the hair, and delivering a TORNADO DDT~! Cover... 1... 2.... TK gets a shoulder up! Dick gives TK a suplex, then tags out to Rick, who runs over and cheap shots Alf on the apron. Alf jumps into the ring, distracting the referee as the Triple Threat do some THREE-ON-ONE CLUBBERING on TK! Rick then delivers a swinging neckbreaker, and covers... 1.. 2.... NO! TK kicks out! Rick picks TK up, and sticks his head between his legs. COACH Running powerbomb coming, perhaps, that's a big guy for Rick to get up there! Rick, however, does get him up and converts the move flawlessly! He then heads to the top rope. COLE Well, I think Rick should have went for a cover right there, that was a beautiful powerbomb! Rick comes off for a SWANTON BOMB~!, but TK rolls out of the way! TK uses the rope to crawl over and make the tag to Alf! COLE TAG MADE, and Alf in the ring now! Alf delivers a clothesline to Rick, and then one to Dick who jumps in the ring! Superkick for Nick, and he goes backwards over the top rope, Harley Race-style! Alf then delivers a belly-to-belly to Rick, and follows up with a T-Bone suplex for Dick! Dick bails, leaving the two legal men, and Alf delivers a snap suplex to Rick! Cover... 1.. 2.... NO! Rick kicks out! Alf picks Rick up and goes for a back suplex, but Rick flips over the back, then goes to the ropes, hops over Alf...and catches a knee to the back from Reject! Alf then goes over and makes the tag to his partner, who hears the boos as he enters the ring and stomps away at Rick. He then picks up Rick and delivers a fisherman's buster! Cover... 1... 2... Kickout! Reject then delivers a backbreaker, then goes for the ROLLING THUNDER~!...but Rick brings the knees up! Rick scoots to his corner, and tags Nick! Nick hammers away at Reject, backing him into a corner, and punching away! ONE!!! TWO!!! THREE!!! FOUR!!! FIVE!!! Suddenly, Nick jumps backwards and hits a bodypress on TK! He starts punching away, while Reject tags out to Alf. Alf grabs Nick off of TK, but Nick reverses a whip into the corner, and hits Alf with a handspring elbow, followed by a bulldog! Nick covers, but TK is distracting the referee! This allows Reject to slip back in and plant Nick with the PITCH BLACK~!!! However, the referee then turns his attention to Reject, allowing Rick to reach in and drag Nick out, as Dick rolls in in his place! COACH Look at this, they're doing the ol' switcheroo! Alf picks up Dick, who grabs Alf in a small package! 1... 2....... NO!!! Alf kicks out! COLE SO CLOSE! Smart thinking by the Triple Threat, but Alf not going to be pinned that easily! All four of the other men slug it out on the floor, as Dick charges Alf, but gets backdropped to the apron. Dick gives Alf a shoulder to the gut, then attempts a sunset flip, but Alf hangs onto the ropes, then drops a fist to the face. Alf sits down to rest on the ropes, when suddenly Brock Ausstin jumps from the crowd and blasts Alf with a chair from the floor! COACH YEAH! COLE What's Brock doing out here? The referee, who was distracted by the brawl on the floor, runs over to chase Brock off, while Nick climbs to the top...and hits Alf with a LEGDROP~!!! The referee slides in... 1... 2....... 3!!!!!!!!!!! *DING DING DING* COLE And the Triple Threat wins, thanks to Brock Ausstin! The crowd cheers their hometown boys as Buffer makes the announcement. BUFFER The winners of the match...the TRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIPLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEE THHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREAT~!!!!! A camera follows Brock as he walks through the curtains. Suddenly, he powerwalks over to a coffee table, where Otaku II is standing, and blasts him with the chair from the blindside! He chases Ayane off, before picking Otaku's head up by the mask. BROCK I guess you were trying to get my attention earlier tonight? Well, kid, you just made the biggest mistake of your career...because you've GOT IT. COLE I can't believe this! What a cheap shot by Brock Ausstin! COACH But the Triple Threat will challenge that man, along with Team Heyross, for the OAOAST Six-Man titles next week!

COLE I understand somethings going down backstage. I don't really know what it is, but I gotta take a monster leak so let's just go back there. The camera cuts to the backstage area where “The Corporate Champion” Tha Puerto Rican is WALKING~!, a smile on his face. He is wearing his Puerto Rican flag bandana, sunglasses, an earring in his left ear, a gold chain around his neck, a white dress shirt, red tie, black sports jacket, $500 Rolex watch, black dress pants, and black dress shoes. PRL is holding his custom made spinner 24/7 Championship belt over his left shoulder. The crowd boos the moment PR is shown. PR whistles a tune as he walks. JOSH MATTHEWS P.R. P.R.! PR stops walking, and turns his attention to head OAOAST interviewer and metrosexual Josh Matthews. Josh runs up to The Corporate Champ, a microphone in his hand. J. MATH P.R., may I ask, why are you so happy tonight? Last Sunday at Anglepalooza, you got pinned by Colombian Heat, your manager and “Career Consultant” Stephen Joseph, was injured at the hands of Peter Knight, and you lost the Lethal Rumble Match when you were one of the final four men in the ring! How can you still be happy even after all of that? “THE CORPORATE CHAMPION” THA PUERTO RICAN Well Josh, even after all I went through last Sunday. My manager being injured, me losing the Lethal Rumble, I’m still happy, for one reason, and one reason only: I BEAT Colombian Heat! The crowd boos. PUERTO RICAN (CONT’D) You see Josh, even though I had other stuff happen to me at Anglepalooza, my match with Colombian Heat was my number one objective. That was the only thing I set my mind on. Sure, winning the Lethal Rumble and going on to AngleMania would be nice, but the most important thing I wanted to happen at Anglepalooza 2006, was for me to defeat Colombian Heat once…and for all! And I got that, finally, after eight long years, last Sunday. And because of that, I am STILL YOUR CORPORATE 24/7 PRL spins the belt plate. PUERTO RICAN …Champion! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAAA!!! PR has a smug, satisfied grin on his face. The crowd boos loudly and chants “P.R. SUCKS! P.R. SUCKS!” J. MATH So, PR, what do you have planned for tonight? You’re not scheduled for a match. PRL J. Math, I’m glad you asked! Tonight is a celebration! Tonight, right here on HeldDOWN~!, we’re going to have a “P.R. Celebration Night”. In honor of me overcoming the odds, and defeating Colombian Heat at Anglepalooza, we’re going to have a celebration dedicated to yours truly. There’s going to be cake, and balloons, and elephants, and kangaroos on trampolines, and confetti, and Cuban Wall will come out riding an ostrich. The whole nine yards. You wanna come? MATTHEWS Sure! I’d love to com— PRL Well, too bad, cuz, you’re not invited! HA! HA! Anyway, as I was saying, Tha Puerto Rican KNOWS how to throw a party, and you’ll see proof tonight when we have “P.R. Celebration Night”! It’s a celebration, bitches! I can’t wait to PAAAAAAARRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTYYYYYYYYYY!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!! PR dances a bit, getting warmed up for the party later on tonight. Josh Matthews just stands there watching. The crowd boos. JOSH Uh…PR. PR is still dancing. JOSH P.R.? Still dancing. JOSH P? Dancing. JOSH R? DANCING~! JOSH P.R.? PRL WHAT? JOSH MATTHEWS Um, I’m afraid there’s not going to be a “P.R. Celebration Night” tonight on HeldDOWN~!. PR Oh? And why not? JOSH MATTHEWS Because all the segments have been booked, and there’s no room for a “P.R. Celebration Night”. PR Well, how will the show end? JOSH MATTHEWS The show is going to end with a live, in-ring edition of The Love Shack. The crowd POPS at the mention of Leon Rodez’s popular talk show. PRL is confused. PR Uh…can you run that by me, again? JOSH Okay. The show is going to end with a live, in-ring edition of The Love Shack. PRL stands there, confused. THA PUERTO RICAN Love Shack? LOVE SHACK? What the HELL is The Love Shack? Is Dude Love working for the OAOAST? JOSH MATTHEWS No. See, The Love Shack is a talk show hosted by Leon Rodez. The crowd pops again at the mention of the former X-Division and Tag Team Champion. PRL Leon Rodez? Who…who is Leon Rodez? JOSH MATTHEWS YOU DON’T KNOW WHO LEON RODEZ IS? PRL Well, obviously! JOSH MATTHEWS Don’t you watch the rest of HeldDOWN~!? PRL Eh, I drift in and out. Now who is this Leon Rodez that hosts The Love Shack? JOSH Well, Leon Rodez is… PRL Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. PRL puts his right hand in Josh’s face. PRL Let’s ask somebody else. PR looks around for somebody. He spots a stagehand, and pulls him into the shot. PRL Yo, jabrony. Who is Leon Rodez? STAGEHAND (his eyes light up.) WHO IS LEON RODEZ? Only the most charismatic, high flying, smack talking, funniest, most entertaining wrestler the OAOAST’s ever seen! PRL Nope. Name doesn’t ring a bell. STAGEHAND He’s a former X-Division Champion. PRL Nope. Still nothing. STAGEHAND He’s apart of The Usual Suspects with Zack Malibu. PRL Tha Puerto Rican still has no idea who he is. STAGEHAND He just lost the World Tag Team Titles to The New New Midnight Express. THA PUERTO RICAN … STAGEHAND He eliminated you from the Lethal Rumble Match. PR THAT’S the guy!?!?! THAT’S the guy everyone’s been fawning over?!?!?!? THAT man is LEON FREAKIN’ RODEZ!?!?!?!?! STAGEHAND Uh-huh. He’s dreamy! PR gives the stagehand an odd look. PRL Wait. You mean to tell me that the show is going to end with the man who eliminated the most electrifying man in professional wrestling? JOSH MATTHEWS Uh…yeah, PR. Basically. PRL stomps the floor in frustration. PRL DAMNIT! PRL puts his hand through his (imaginary) hair. He curses a few more times, becoming more and more upset by the second. PR All right. I’m not going to stand there and watch this Leon Rodez guy do his Love Rack or whatever he calls it. I am NOT going to let the man who eliminated Tha Puerto Rican from the Lethal Rumble end the show! I JUST WON’T! This is supposed to be “P.R. Celebration Night”! I’m not going to let some jabrony named Leon Rodez ruin it! It’s NOT going to happen under my $500 Rolex watch! This show is only going to end one way. And one way only! THE CHAMP HAS SPO-KUN~!!! “The Corporate Champion” Tha Puerto Rican power walks out of the shot, dragging his spinner 24/7 Championship belt behind him. Josh Matthews and the stagehand watch Tha Puerto Rican leave. The crowd boos. STAGEHAND Oh, how I love that Leon Rodez! JOSH MATTHEWS So do I. So do I. Both men sigh, knowing they can never have him. The stagehand starts crying. (BACK TO THE SC) COACH What the hell? Who hires these morons? CABOOSE PRL isn't that bad. COACH I meant the stagehand. What's next? “White Reflection” by Two Mix starts up and Otaku walks out onto the stage, alone. He’s clad in his usual entrance gear, except that he isn’t wearing his Eddie shirt this time, but an OAOAST shirt. He walks slowly down to the ring, slapping high fives to crowd members who stick their hands out, but not actively going after people to get them riled up. He gets a microphone from ringside before going to the steps and using them for their intended purpose, getting a person inside the ring. The crowd had been cheering, but it grows quiet so that the masked man from Boston, MA can speak. Otaku: I know that I don’t do this very often, don’t come out here and put a microphone to my mouth to speak my mind to you all. I usually prefer to let my work in the ring do the talking, but quite frankly, I’m not terribly proud of what my recent ringwork has been showing. If memory serves, I haven’t won a frickin’ match since I hit a Shooting Star Press off a ladder to pin Vitamin X The crowd starts its usual anti X chant. Otaku: Hey, like him or hate him, that boy can FIGHT. But before I get too sidetracked, let me speak about Sunday, about Anglepalooza ’06. I’m sure everyone in the crowd and everyone watching this on TV is pretty hyped that Alfdogg won the Lethal Rumble, aren’t you? The crowd responds properly, cheering Alf. Otaku: Well, I’m not too happy about it! I don’t mean to sound greedy or anything, but I did squat in that match. I came in at number 28 and I wasn’t even in the final four! I didn’t eliminate anyone! And, to top it all off, after Brock Ausstin eliminated me, he decided to do his Rick Rude tribute to my WIFE. Brock, if I were you, I’d be careful who I did that to. I’ll twist your legs in a knot and cripple you for the rest of your pathetic life with my Sharpshooter as soon as I get a chance. Then you can stop injecting steroids into your BUTT because no one will care if you can pick people up while you’re stuck in a wheelchair! Maybe you’ll even have a shot at having kids someday, if you can find a girl who’d want to have anything to do with a freak like you. Cole: Wow, I’ve never seen Otaku so angry like this! Caboose: He’s really got to watch himself, does he really want to get Brock Ausstin angry at him? Otaku: And, before the flame runs out or I get attacked from behind by someone, I have one more thing to address. What happened Sunday to Ragdoll is despicable. This is professional wrestling. When Ayane gets attacked, it’s one thing, she’s a wrestler. Otaku begins to break down, pulling off his mask and trying his hardest to not cry. His face is flushed and covered with sweat. Otaku: But what Axel did to Ragdoll is beyond the pale. The Upstarts are nothing but a bunch of greedy @#$%s who don’t care who or what they hurt to get their way. A bunch of overgrown babies. The crowd begins to cheer as Otaku “preaches the gospel.” He seems to regain his composure, but doesn’t put the mask back on for now. Otaku: And when I called Zack Malibu offering my services to the Originals, he didn’t answer my call, he took in Leon Rodez but not me! So screw Zack Malibu! Screw the Originals! I’m going on a one man against the world war to prove myself and right what’s wrong. Otaku climbs the turnbuckle and throws his OAOAST shirt into the crowd, revealing a plain black T shirt with the letters “GCW” on the front in white. On the back is a picture of the Masked Marauder after taking his eleventh chair shot. Cole: My God, that’s one of the most infamous pictures in wrestling history! Then GCW president Masked Marauder took eleven chair shots before passing out, refusing to give in so that his friend, Drago, wouldn’t have to give up his title, it was widely considered one of the bravest acts ever in wrestling. Coach: But Drago did have to give up his title. The sacrifice was all for naught. Just like Zack Malibu’s attempt to defeat the Upstarts. Otaku: I’m not an Original! I’m not an Upstart! I’m GCW! I’m going to do what needs to get done, no matter what! I’m sick of this war, and now I know that I’m going to stay out of it! I’m just going to take care of business! Otaku flips the mike into the ring while hopping out of it and walking to the back, doing the same as when he entered, slapping the fans’ outstretched hands. COLE Very strong and emotional words from Otaku. Folks, we gotta pay the bills with another ad break but when we return we'll see the start of round two of the Anderson Cup as The Heavenly Rockers meet up with Los Diablos De Fuego (GO TO BREAK) (RETURN FROM BREAK) BOOM! BOOM! Pyro SHOOTS out of the stage as "G's & Soliders" hits. Through the cloud of smoke caused from the blast emerge the HEAVENLY ROCKERS. Synth and Logan greet their adoring fans with enthusiasm, sprinting down the aisle slapping each and every hand, including a little girl who can't be any older than 6 years old dressed as Holly-Wood, bringing a smile to her darling face. COLE The Heavenly Rockers just made that little girl's night. That'll be a moment she'll treasure forever. COACH Especially after she gives birth to Synth's baby in about 6 or 7 years. It's no secret the Synthmeister likes 'em young. He thinks jailbait means a prison escape. CABOOSE I think you've been hanging around "The King" too much, Coach. COACH At least I hang around a king and not a drag queen like you do every week. COLE (laughing) You hang around a drag queen every week, Caboose? CABOOSE He's referring to YOU, you idiot. * DING DING * BUFFER The following contest is a Los Infernales Conference semi-finals match. It is set for one fall. Introducing first...hailing Sin City, at a total combine weight of 430 pounds, the greatest rock 'n' wrestling band of all time... THE HEAVENLY RRRROOOOOOCKERRRRSSSS! COLE What an exciting match-up we have coming up, fans. The # 4 seed Heavenly Rockers will go up against the # 8 seed, the cinderella team in this year's Anderson Cup, Los Diablos de Fuego. COACH Los Diablos might take being called a cinderella team a little too close to heart. But they did defeat The GPX, the # 1 seed and last year's Anderson Cup winners, to get here. They deserve props for that. Although they'd rather get popped, if you know what I mean. COLE The Heavenly Rockers aren't your typical 4th seed, for that matter. One of the favorites to win it all, the Heavenly Rockers. As we go back up to Michael Buffer. CUE: "Work It" BUFFER And their opponents...weighing 340 pounds, they are the sexiest tag team in all of Meh-e-co... Moracca and Mariachi... LOS DIABLOS DE FUEGO! Missy Elliot's "Work It" plays in the background, but there's no Diablos. From the stands to the ring, everyone is bewildered. The music is re-started from the top, but again no sign of Los Diablos. COLE We're just as clueless are you are, fans. Los Diablos de Fuego's music is playing, but they haven't come out. COACH Oh, they came out long ago, baby boy. They just haven't showed up for their match. I bet they're late because they're still in the back doing an unnatural act. COLE L-Ladies and gentlemen, I've been told there's something going on backstage. I understand we have a camera on its way. Details are sketchy, but I'm... We cut backstage, our cameraman chugging along to the scene of the commotion. Lots of GRUNTING and SHOUTING can be heard in the halls. A swarm of OAOAST agents rush the locker room. As we follow them in, a body goes flying in the air. On the other side of the room, we see the SOUTH CENTRAL MILITIA stomping a flamboyantly attired figure up against a blood-stained wall. The camera zooms in on the person to reveal Moracca of Los Diablos de Fuego, curled up in a fetal position, blood oozing out above the eye of his torn pink mask. COLE Oh, my God! Marcellus Wallace and Vincent Santana are assaulting Los Diablos in the locker room. That's inhuman. And a hate-crime, damnit! What's wrong with them? A ROAR is heard in the arena. Moe and Vinny push officials to the ground to continue their onslaught. Moe sees Mariachi trying to get back up and drills him with a running boot to the face! The roar we heard is due to the Heavenly Rockers leaving the ring to come to the defense of Los Diablos. The two rivals spot each other and go right at it. Luckily the room full of officials, which includes a microphone wielding Terry Taylor (man wants to get the scoope), are able to keep the mayhem from escalating, quickly getting in-between the warring fractions. COACH Uh...does this mean we aren't gonna have a match? COLE What do you think, genius? This is obviously not what we had planned. I think we're gonna take a break to sort everything out. We'll hope to find out more information during the break, if not later in the night. Stay with us, ladies and gentlemen. (GO TO BREAK)

Hi. How are you?

The women's division is edited in as best as I could do it. So call off your EEO compliant, for those of you who've ever had the misfortune of taking a human resource class or the even greater misfortune of working in human resources. Popick, you're in there now.

I am but one man! It'll get done tomorrow. Totally forgot about AJ and Gunner.

Someone actually replied to my thread! Wow! Changes are edited. Wow! Okay, Reject is back in the face listing

Let's go with the state of the art Resch Center.

All I've been able to do is skim a few matches, but real quick I wanna give respect to papa for the sick film graphics and to Alf and PK for the exciting rumble match.

(We're whisked backstage to HD GM Axel's office where the man himself is positioned with interviewer Tony Schiavone. Situated between the two is the Lethal Rumble tumbler containing entry numbers for this years highly anticipated match.) AXEL Who's next? TONY SCHIAVONE (reading his list) Wahoo McDaniel. AXEL I thought he was dead. TONY Oh. Well, I'll cross him off the list then. Um, next up we have Craven Moorhead...damn it! That's the last time I let the Sk8er Boiz draw up the list. Okay, next we have Logan Mann and Synth Eszier. (On cue, The Sin City duo strolls into the neatly organized office. Both men wear ripped up jeans and tattered black Rolling Stones t-shirts. Their appearance on screen scores a large pop from the arena audience.) AXEL Logan and Synth, how are you doing? Tony, I'm not any good at the meaningless chit-chat part of the job, so go ahead and say something to ease the awkwardness, eh. TONY Uh...you guys like music right? Did I ever tell you about that time I went to that REO Speedwagon concert, and I almost made out with this girl who was a dead ringer for Diana Ross. Except for the fact that this girl was Asian, and fat, and had one leg. And it wasn't a girl at all actually...... SYNTH Ya've only told us about it one billion times. AXEL I think hearing it once might be a bit too much for me. (Fuming, Logan kicks the table where the tumbler is located.) LOGAN Jesus, can we just draw our damn numbers? Why are we even here? This really is corporate inefficiency at it's most glaring. Couldn't we have done this whole thing online? You can do anything on the Internet. SYNTH Uh-uh. Can ya fly ta Romulus home of the Romulan empire on the Internet? TONY That'd be boss if you could. LOGAN Of course you can't, Synth. SYNTH Ahz rests mah case! Wut's the hurry, L-Mann? You got some tail waiting for you back on the tour bus or sumthing? Be cool and be easy, mah ice mocha brudda. That girl ain't going no wheres. You a rock supa-star! Sho, she might be a lil upset you late, but when you hit the hotel room, all you'll need to do is say your name and you'll have that chicks panties 'round her ankles. LOGAN I've got a girlfriend, who I promised I'd call at this exact moment, but I can't because I'm dicking around here waiting for you to draw your stupid little number so I can go on and get up outta here. TONY Okay, well, let's get this party started. Huh guys? That sounded pretty hip, am I right? Tony S's still got it, eh. (As Axel groans in the background, Tony commences a fast turn of the lethal tumbler. Synth patiently waits to pull out his number, carefully considering which life alerting container he should chose. After much deliberation and an order to “hurry the hell up, doofus” from Logan, Synth, hands soaked with nervous sweat, pulls out a container.) SYNTH Come on numba thirty! LOGAN Tiffany, don't you pay any attention to what goes on here? Number thirty already got won by that dude who's nailing that chick you kept trying to score with. There's no way you can get it. If you somehow get number thirty, I'll French kiss Michael Cole. SYNTH .......Come on numba thirty! (With great anxiousness Synth slowly peers at his draw. His face brightens with wondrous joy when he sees what number he's acquired.) SYNTH HA-HA-HA! EAT MY ASS, LOGAN MANN! I'M MASTER OF THE UNIVERSE, BABAAAAAY! Where ya shit talking at now, Logan? Hey Ax, what comes before Part B? AXEL Part A? SYNTH Yeaaaaaauh! Dat's what the Synth-a-nator is gonnna go do! Ah got some jailbait to nail! See ya'll dudes on da witness stand! Deal wit dat ya'll mutha'fuckas! (Lucky draw firmly in hand, Synth glides out of the room, singing [i]TNT[/i] by ACDC.) TONY Ho-ho, he cracks me up. What a character! LOGAN He..he..I mean..number thirty isn't in there. Correct? I..I..I'm not gonna kiss Cole. I don't go in for that sort of thing. I know what you read in the tabloids, but that same tabloid also said an eighty year old man in Montreal gave birth to a three hundred pound Condor. So come on now, we all know Condor's can't get that big. Lemme just get my number and we can forget all about that Cole kissing bit. (Unlike Synth, who treated this as a matter of life and death, Logan casually reaches in and pulls a container. His apathetic expression soon morphs into one of total confusion when he looks at his draw.) LOGAN What the hell? This isn't a number! This is a voucher for a free lap dance at Busty Leroux's palace of sin and lust! TONY Hmmm....I, uh, wonder how that got in there. Heh-heh. Why don't I just hold onto it for posterity's sake? Go ahead and pick again. It'll be [i]Logan's pick, the remix[/i]. See that's funny, because you're a rockstar. Remix? Music? Rockstar? That's funny to me. (After a heavy sigh, Logan digs into the tumbler once more. This time he pulls up a draw that makes him wish he would've stuck with the free lap dance.) LOGAN No way! Gimme a redo! TONY Sorry, Logan. No mulligans here, my Mann. Heh. That was kind of funny. M-a-n-n instead of the typical M-a-n. LOGAN Do you know who I am? Do you know who I know? I've gone from the AM to the PM with Christina Milan, hit Britney one more time, got drrty with Christina, holla backed at Gwen Stefani, checked on Beyonce, kicked Hillary Duff outta bed because she was so yesterday, and Kylie Minogue still can't get me out of her head. My loving is all she thinks about. But hey, you want me at this number? That's fine. Let's do it that way, Axel. Tony Schiavone, Anglemania will be the day the heavens rock, because Logan Mann's LP will be going double gold, first as a tag team champion, and then as the hardest rocking world champion this fed has ever seen! (Determination lining his face, Mann exits the room)

Very good show, especially for one before a “pay per view”. Historically the HD's before PPV's aren't always packed with content. I know what you meant, Coachie! Thank ya much! I should send credit Tony's way for his help with it. I liked the interview stage segment with PK and SJ. When PK name dropped Oprah, I was just waiting for the James Frey reference. Man, Oprah was pissed about that. Anyway the reasons Knight expressed for turning heel made sense to moi. It was nice to see that the turn was a result of a long brewing anger, instead of some sudden issue. Patty really dug Zack's promo, what a cuckoo! Zack, not me. Although you could make a case for me. Marty's a funny recurring character. The show had a solid mainevent that did a nice job of leading into the big match on Sunday between PRL and Heat. However, I was surprised to see Brickston get eliminated so quickly. I pegged him to last until the very end. If I gave MOTN awards, which I don't, I'd give it to Rodez/Black. But I don't give that award, so I'll just say it was a very good opener. Nice to see Foshi and Ragdoll back after their one week hiatuses. I thought Cole's logic that Max Anderson had the inside track on the Anderson cup because of his last name made perfect sense! For the most part, the opening round of the 06 Anderson Cup went off well. I can't decide if I like this years better then last years however. This year did have two upsets in the first round and I don't think we had a single upset in any round last year. I'm sure someone will correct me if I'm wrong. I still hold a grudge over Tony not letting me have the Frankensteiner's win the 05 tournament. I'll never get over that. That man ain't hearing me. Mad love to Tony and KC for helping me out and co-writing with me this week. KC however broke my heart by having Molly Matthews get pinned in that women's match.

Me hate internet!

PK, my turtle dove, please put this after the Love Doctors/Heyross match. Merci beaucoup. This was co-written by myself and my dearest friend Tony149. Tony, if you wanted to edit in the updated brackets after the match, you can do that. I just had them run it down, instead of showing the visual. TERRY TAYLOR Oh no, oh no, oh no! Girls, I know you love camera time, but did you really have to do this?! (The camera goes to a shot of The Coach bound and gagged at the side of the announce table. Caboose and Cole are nowhere to be found. Coach's joy over being manhandled by Chicks Over Dicks seems to have been replaced by anger over having to be tied up for the next fifteen minutes. Speaking of COD, the camera pans out to reveal the girls from SoCal, Chicks Over Dicks, sitting innocently in Triple C's spot. Alix, wearing a pink A&F polo shirt and destroyed crop jeans, is stretched out across the announce table, sipping on her third margarita. Krista, outfitted in a sleeveless black wrap top and a ruffled red lace mini skirt, is on the couch in Caboose's position. Poor Terrence Taylor is hunched up against the armrest, sweating bullets at thought of the possible repercussions for his part in this insurrection.) ALIX Awww, don't be such a male reproductive organ, babe. We're just having a lil' fun. Don't be so snarky, sparky! KRISTA Hey, I know Caboose and Cole got a kick out of it. I mean they did give us the rope. Don't get your feathers ruffled, Chicken Hawk. You're always moaning that no one around here treats you like a human being.... ALIX “Oh everyone is so awful to me! Waaaaah nobody is nice to me!” Like it's my fault you had to have a full on cavity search by a fat Korean dude at the San Fransisco airport! TERRY You called and told them I had sixty grams of cocaine hidden in my rectum! I couldn't control my bowels for two weeks! KRISTA Well, here's the perfect chance to show the world that Terry Taylor is more then a miserable comedic prop with even less sophistication and acting range then Conan O'Brien's masturbating bear. Plus, we've got drink service! ALIX I love, love, love the masturbating bear. The way he cups his manhood is soooooo adorable. It reminds me of how my momma's ex-boyfriend, you know, the Elmer Fudd one, would cup my womanhood. It took me years to find out why he would rapidly thrust his fingers in there. TERRY You really should see somebody, Alix. These--These repressed memories can't be heathly. ALIX Hello? Paging Terry Taylor's brain. I AM seeing somebody, silly. Leon Rodez. (Krista nods to Mariachi and Moracca of Los Diablos De Fuego, who are dressed as waiters and hold a serving tray full of alcohol beverages) KRISTA Fans, here I am at Sofa Central with Terry Taylor and the winner of the 2005 female wrestler of the year, beating me out even though she's lost two times as many matches as me, six as opposed to my three, and has won eight fewer matches then myself, despite being in the company a year longer then me. But I'm not bitter, no sirreee bob! I'm sure if I wrestled in teeny tiny shorts that showed off half my ass, I could win a few awards to. Nope, not bitter at all. Who am I gonna have to deport to get a god damn bottle of tequila around here? ALIX Ooh, ooh, ooh. I'll take a Shirley Temple. TERRY And I'll take death. But we're just moments away from one of our final Anderson Cup opening round match, featuring NRG taking on a team that owes their continued employment to Miss Krista Isadora Duncan, The Sk8er Boiz. The winner of this bout gets to take on ThunderKid and Reject. The other LI conference second round match sees these very same Los Diablos go against the Heavenly Rockers! The house lights sink to a spooky darkness, as the arena is given light only be a steady green buzz shining around the entrance stage. The electronic preamble 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 , a white NRG t-shirt and aqua colored trunks, enters first, sneering at the disrespecting crowd. Mackenzie DeCenzo, showing off her splendid figure in hip hugging cargo pants and white t-shirt, emerges next, snobbishly holding her head high. Finally Flex Phillips, leader of this outfit, saunters out, wearing the same aqua colored tights as his long time partner. 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 Arizona crowd's disgust reaches it's greatest height. BUFFER Ladies and gentlemen the following match is scheduled for one with fall with a 30 minute time limit! It is an opening round contest in the 2006 Anderson Cup! 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! KRISTA (scoffs) Nutritions Real Gurus? Some would say I'm a fitness guru myself, but I'm not. I'm a fitness queen! And Ned Blanchard is an ASSHOLE! ALIX Somebody better get moving on that Tequila, or it's gonna be a looooong night. The group walks down to the ring, with purpose and intent in their steps. Flex pauses in front of the camera to uh...flex his Mr.Olympia worthy biceps. Shouting over the jeers of the sellout crowd, he blasts his soon to be arriving opponents, The Sk8er Bois. Eventually, Phillips follows the rest of his troop into the battle field. He strikes statuesque bodybuilding pose at the center of the ring, while Biff stands on the turnbuckle, furiously ripping off his shirt Hulk Hogan style. [i]Adrenaline[/i] cuts generating a murmur amongst the crowd who's eyes are now locked onto the entrance way. Ten female dancers clad in costume military fatigues are positioned on the entrance stage, five 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]We be Burning[/i]. The doors pull apart, showcasing teen idols, Marvin and Melvin Nerdly! This appearance of the stunning 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 And the opponents....from Laguna Beach, California VIA Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, they are former tag team champions, and the two hottest dudes in the OAOAST, The Marv, Hell Mel.......THE SK8ER BOIIIIZZZZZZZZ! 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 gods. Mel, attired in an NRG tanktop, and 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. After nodding to their personal hero, Krista, the kids slide into the ring, and hit a pair of bodybuilder poses, a direct insult to the formidable foes across from them. Cooler headed Flex opts to start for his unit while Mel does the same for his team. The ref calls for the bell and we are underway! TERRY The Sk8r Boiz were at the Bank One Ballpark today for an autograph session. There were hundreds of fans present, and they were practically pushing the twins onto the field, they were so excited. The only time anyone's pushed me onto a ball field was when my ex-wife did it when we flew over one in an airplane. Thankfully a mascot broke my fall! Here's the bell (finally) DING DING DING! Mel offers a sportsmanlike lockup to his rather unsportsmanlike foe. But Flex ain't gonna have none of that. He's came to whup ass, and whup ass he will do. He fires off a round of hard hitting left jabs, that go unanswered until Mel comes back with a surprise kick to the knee. The peppy babyface starts rifling dangerously painful punches and elbows to Phillips' noggin. Flex ruefully wonders why a man who weighs over a hundred pounds less then he does is so easily able to lay into him. More punches! More elbows! More reasons for Flex's wife to cheat on him with the mailman! Snarling, Phillips retorts with a pair of haymakers, each missing horribly. Mel stays on the attack, his sheer hand speed allowing him to pepper Flex's face with piston like punches before the mammoth grappler even knows what's what. Phillips cowardly backs out of the lopsided opening exchange sporting a deep cut across the bridge of his nose as a result of his oafishness. With sorrowful eyes, The Floridian glances over to his partner, who simply shakes his head in unmasked disappointment. Upon composing himself, Flex hits the ropes facing Mel and guns back at the Boi with the speed of a bullet. But Hell Mel has a clever counter cooking in his kitchen, in the form of a Manhattan drop! As Phillips' minuscule testicles rocket into his chest cavity, affable Mel taunts him with a little posedown routine. An angry Phillips stands up, trying to nurse his little unit back to health. As he does so, Melvin scampers to the top turnbuckle. The fans bluster in anticipation for a high risk move, and Hell Mel certainly doesn't disappoint. When Flex commits the fatal error of turning around to face Nerdly, The Sk8er Boi propels himself forward and tags the nutrition guru with a missile dropkick! As chants for the babyfaces swell across the venue, Mackenzie covers her ears in a futile attempt to block out the vexing noise! TERRY Girls, NRG had some cruel words for you, saying you owe your fame to the fact you slept with everyone in your Rolodex. KRISTA I can't speak for Alix, Terry, but Krista Isadora Duncan doesn't go sleeping around. Men come to me, begging yours truly to give them a night to remember. Before coming out here, I saw Biff and Flex oiling each other up. And looking at what's happened in the bout so far, I'd say NRG is used to getting pounded... TERRY By each other! Oh Terry, you're sexy, witty and a great announcer. The true triple threat! Obviously this match isn't unfolding in the manner Phillips envisioned! Consequently, Flex has to move with a desperation he'd never thought he'd have to. Flex attacks Melvin with a knee strike to the gut, and wastes nary a second in following it with a forearm to his upperback. Thinking the youth dazed, Flex hauls him into a front face lock. Preparing to hit a big time brainbuster, he whispers a series of spiteful taunts to his hated rival. But before he can even get Mel off the ground, the Sk8er Boi, owing an assist to his heavily baby oiled body, slips out of the hold! Putting his new found freedom to good use, energetic Mel whips a barrage of chops into a dejected Phillips' beefy chest. Ten solid knife edges light Flex up like Rockefeller plaza at Christmas before Mel whips him to the cables. Phillips bounds back putting his best foot forward with every big man's favorite move, the big boot! However, Mel nonchalantly catches Phillips' leg and shoves it back to canvas. Astounded that he's on the losing end of this contest, Flex is much too unsettled to stop Mel from latching into his left arm, and nearly tearing it out off it's socket with a single arm ddt! Mackenzie makes herself useful, preemptively distracting the referee before Mel can even attempt a pin. KRISTA NRG's valet is kind of hot. Clearly the years of heavy cocaine use have yet to decimate her figure. Although looking through her spread in [i]Men's Fitness[/i] I can see that her swiss cheese BUTT shows the cracked roadwork I'd expect to find only on the decrepit roads of inner city Detroit. Flex stands up, protecting his bad arm, lobbing feeble right jabs to keep Nerdly at bay. Quick as a flash, Hell Mel easily evades the lazy strikes and attacks Phillips with a dropkick to the injured arm. Caught in obvious pain, Flex stammers backwards. Mel pushes his advantage, leaping onto Flex's broad shoulders into a hurricanrana position! The minute he situates himself on the peak of the mountainous grappler, Phillips frantically tries to throw him off with a powerbomb. Unwilling to be the recipient of the deathly hold, Mel spins out to Flex's side, drops backwards and whips the 6'3 brawler over with an arm drag to that hurt arm! As Flex lies on the mat whimpering like a hurt kitten, the excited audience cocoons Mel within an ocean of applause. Phillips stands up, trying to catch his breath and get the blood flowing back to his arm. Melvin jets to the cables, leaping onto the third rope, and ripping back through the air with a graceful lionsault! But Phillips hits a stroke of luck, and catches the hero on his spacious shoulders! Thinking he has Nerdly tightly clamped onto his body, Flex makes a bee line for the corner. But Phillips hold isn't quite as secure as he believed, and Melvin's glistening body slides out of it! Moving to Flex's side, Nerdly cinches onto the muscle man's arm, and pulls him backwards with a side russian leg sweep! KRISTA Yikes! At this rate Mel may end this match before we see Marvin [i]or[/i] Biff. Phillips rises to his feet, and assaults Mel with a plethora of vulgarities. Melvin let's the harsh words roll off him like a rain drop, preferring to do his fighting with action and not empty tough talk. Sporting an arrogant grin, Mel coolly beckons the former bodybuilder in. Upset with the lack of respect shown, Flex whirls around with his good arm to horsewhip Melvin with a discus clothesline. The teen idol slips beneath Phillips' arm, and puts himself in a fabulous position to inflict some serious harm to his archrival! Flex turns around and gets his head smacked from side to side like a ping pong ball by Melvin's raid fire punches! Acting entirely out of a sense of self-preservation, Phillips turns the tide by boorishly thumbing Nerdly in his ebony eyes. While Flex catches his depleted breath, Hell Mel woozily staggers about the ring, combating temporary blindness and the water forming in his eye sockets. TAYLOR I see that Flex isn't afraid to be scummy enough to try and win this match. ALIX And I see that the frat boys behind me aren't afraid to be drunk enough to try and grab my breasts. KRISTA By the way, Ned Blanchard is an ASSHOLE! You're an ASSHOLE, Ned! ASSHOLE! ALIX Uh-oh. I think somebody's about to be very cranky. KRISTA Eat me! ALIX Right now? KRISTA Eat me!! ALIX As you wish. TERRY Hold on a minute, Alix. Look at this. ALIX Eh. I'm kinda in the mood for taco not sausage. TERRY No. I'm talking about the action in the ring. Flex tries to swing momentum back to his camp with an Irish whip. However, the savvy cruiserweight effortlessly reverses it. Before Phillips can run the ropes, Melvin catches his left arm, and uses it to whirl Flex in front of him. With the raucous crowd singing his name, Mel clutches onto Phillips' neck, then violently cranks it with a swinging neckbreaker! Leaving Flex to moan in misery, Nerdly takes off to the ropes, preparing to return with a running shooting star press. Yet Phillips has other ideas within the twisted recess of his mind. Betraying the hurt in his neck, he springs up as Mel is only a few inches away from him. Thanks to the short distance separating them, Hell Mel isn't able to offer an offensive move, and instead can only brace himself for the impact of Phillips' vile spinebuster! The savage ending of the slam rocks the ring to it's very core. While Mackenzie sarcastically claps for Flex finally performing some sort of offensive maneuver, he pulls Melvin up by head. Phillips lands a few well placed elbows to the small of his back to keep the plucky Sk8er under control as he drags Mel to the NRG corner. A tag is applied to the surly shitkicker, Biff “Shampoo” Atlas. ALIX Biff has a really weird gimmick. Bisexual redneck hair fetishist bodybuilding badass with a protein drink empire. It's like they used one of those random gimmick generators to come up with his character. What's next, lesbian single mother alcoholic fitness guru who's impossible to beat? Oh wait...awkward! KRISTA This just in to Sofa Central: Ned Blanchard, you're still an ASSHOLE! TERRY Krista, please. We're live. KRISTA Why don't you eat me, Terry. It's obvious you've fantasized about it. Every red-blooded man has. Oh, that's right. You like 'em young and pretty, don't you? Like the time you and Dr. Death sexually assaulted that 13-year-old Japanese girl, right? TERRY I beg your pardon?! KRISTA You should be begging for God's pardon. I personally think the big guy's overrated, but that's just me and Alix. ALIX I like God. I hear He can do some pretty cool stuff. Biff's entrance into the fray is met with inquisitive chatter from the fans. As he has never competed in an OAOAST ring, most are genuinely curious to see how he'll perform. He immediately starts off on the wrong foot, getting taken off his foot with a gorgeous leg lariat by Mel! Biff, [i]chewing tobacco[/i], stands up amazingly quickly. He lathers Hell with an ensemble of forearms, each beating his chest like a drum, causing Mel to trumpet sorrowful blues. An Irish whip transports the former tag team champ to the corner, and Biff is right behind him with a fierce corner clothesline. The immense pain of the attack barely has a second to register in Mel's mind before Biff commences ripping into his midsection with hated filled stomps. A young female fan in the front row actually has the unbelievable audacity to heckle Atlas. Never one to let such discourtesy go unpunished, Biff hurls a wad of tobacco at the innocent girl! TAYLOR Words can't express the joy I'm feeling being on the laughing end of unwarranted abuse, instead of the receiving end! KRISTA You thought that was funny? Pack your flame retardant underwear, and asbestos proof swimsuit because you've won an all expenses paid trip to hell. Hey Hitler, you up for some fried chicken? ALIX Why did he hit her? KRISTA & TERRY ...... As the moralistic fans decry his shameful display, Biff is already executing his next devastating move, a standard brainbuster. However Mel prevents his brains from being busted by latching onto the ring ropes as if his young life depends on it. And knowing Biff, his life probably does depend on it! Despite his unrivaled strength, Biff can't manage to overpower the rope aided resistance of his foe. Now looking like a man possessed by the darklord himself, Biff breaks his hold and promptly attempts to separate Mel's head and neck from the rest of his body with a lariat! Mel dodges the beheading, rolling bellow the approaching arm and making Atlas even madder then before. The Venice Beach native tries to bust the Laguna Beach native wide open with a fearsome running clothesline. But Mel thankfully aborts the move with a swift kick to Biff's ample gut. Nerdly snags a doubled over Atlas into a front facelock, then spikes his large melon into the unforgiving canvas with a textbook DDT! Too eager to show the world how tough he is, Atlas makes the mistake of standing right up and eats a second DDT for his folly! Being the hard headed sort, he doesn't learn his lesson and returns to his feet for another beating. This time his headstrong blunder earns him a DDT of the tornado variety! The rabid fans heartily applaud for the DDT triplets, as the world seems to wave and swim before Biff's blurred vision. KRISTA I want to point out that I've remained insightful, reasonably calm and most importantly, sober, whereas my sloshed partner is swapping spit with some University of Arizona freshmen. Alix, the girl's barley old enough to remember Michael Jackson when he was black! I guess it's better she do that then dance the can-can on the announce table. Mel strolls over to his corner and makes the tag to Marvin, who sarcastically mouthes the word “Thanks”. Why the sarcasm? Because the burly strongman Biff is on his feet, with steam pouring out of almost every hole in his thick body. Needless to say, Marv isn't overly enthralled at the prospects of trying to tame this ferocious beast. The Marv holds his hands in front of his body, palms first, while manically imploring Atlas to “simma down now.” To absolutely no one's surprise Atlas doesn't grant Marv's request, deciding instead to try and knock him out of the ring and into Mariachi's serving tray with a running shoulder tackle! The shot nearly caves in Marvin's chest and knocks him flat on his back, drawing concerned gasps from several teenage girls. Against his better judgment, the pride of Western Canada stands up, only to get clocked with another shoulder tackle! Snorting like a rampaging bull, Biff takes a chunk of Marv's gelled hair and drags him to his feet. After pelting his sweat drenched forehead with two closed fists, Atlas hurls him across the ring with a rough Irish whip. The Marv returns to a belly to belly suplex! But he somehow lands on his size 10 shoes, scoring an appreciative cheer in the process! While the onlookers may be delighted, sour Biff is anything but! He catches an incoming flying forearm from Marv, and tries his damnedest to break the Nerdly twin in half with a powerful urange into a backbreaker! But as soon as he's put in front of Atlas' body, the handsome hunk wraps his legs around Biffy's torso, then jerks him down to the canvas with a roll up! CROWD 1 CROWD 2 Hollering like the madman that he is, Biff shoots his shoulder off the canvas! He jumps up and throws a match and potentially career ending clothesline at Marv! However the lightening quick superstar denies himself a trip to the emergency room and the lollipops that come with it, by avoiding the move and spinning behind Atlas to hook him into a waistlock! Marvin works a miracle equivalent to Jesus walking on water, hitting a the hulking grappler with a German Suplex! Every single person in the jam packed venue is completely flabbergasted that David was able to slay Goliath in such a fantastically impossible manner. Nerdly proves it was no fluke, and wows the roaring crowd with a second suplex! Can he get a third? The mega hottie is certainly going to try, but Shampoo has every intention of stopping him! Biff snaps a nasty elbow at the side of Marv's cranium, and immediately feels the affects of that strike in the form of a loosened grip on his waist. He rifles another painful elbow and acquires the same pleasing result! The third time turns out to be a charm, and the grasp is shattered altogether. Biff readjusts himself then throws a clothesline shortly thereafter. Already having to deal with a serious migraine, Marv has no chance of countering Atlas' latest lariat, and finds himself mashed to the beige canvas! KRISTA Biff's clotheslines have all the extension of Jim Ross lifting his leg up to the fart. You'd think if you were going to only use one move, you'd try and throw it so it doesn't look like you were trained by one of the fighters off [i]Bumfights[/i]. Shampoo starts to lift Marv off the canvas, and quickly finds his clothesline didn't do nearly the amount of the damage he thought it would as Marv starts winging boisterous punches deep into his ribs! The Californian makes a valiant attempt to strike back, but Marv hits him often enough to keep Biff off balance. He pulls himself upright, then uses his speed advantage to swing behind his lumbering rival and secure a waistlock. More German suplexes? Not if Biff has anything to say about it! A succession of elbows breaks the hold and snuffs out all hope of a suplex. A festering cauldron of sexual rage, Biff spins around, intending on hammering Marv with a sadistic forearm smash. But that never materializes, as Marvin speedily crooks his head between Biff's unattacking arm and floats him over with a Northern lights suplex! Referee Clem Buzzlefoxer hits the mat to count the pinning situation! CROWD 1 CROWD 2 KICK OUT! ALIX What I've really been impressed with is the way the Bois have actually out brawled the bigger NRG. That and their tight butts. Mostly their tight butts. But the brawling thing is kinda cool also. Not as cool as their tight little tushies. KRISTA While we're on the subject of butts. Hey Ned, you're still an ASSHOLE! Biff stands and instantly finds himself under fire from a swarm of rapid fire kicks from The Marv! Unable to defend himself from the fast moving blows he's helplessly backed into the corner. Marv follows Atlas in, allowing him no respite. He winks at Krissy, who giggles like a schoolgirl, before Irish whipping his rival across the ring! But Shampoo reverses it and sends Marv running! Annoying NRG to no end, Marv evades a gruesome collision with the poorly padded steel turnbuckle, by pressing his hands onto the top rope and springing back! However the agile counter does not come without it's pitfalls. Marv's landing is of the cringe worthy variety, his left knee twisting disgustingly as his foots planted onto the mat. Despite his best efforts to do so, his grimacing face can't mask the intense pain besieging his left leg. Biff detects his rival's afflicted state and stalks the youngster as he clumsily hobbles about the squared circle. The blood is in the water and the great white is coming to feast! Eventually Atlas closes in on his victim, huffing and puffing like a psychotic wolf. He wraps Marv's arm around his head, ties his arms around his lithe waist, then foists the Boi high into the sky. Biff delays his move for around eleven seconds, lending Marvin time to contemplate the grievous error he and his brother committed in angering NRG. After the clock ticks twelve, Biff slams Marvin left leg first across his outstretched knee with an especially brutal knee breaker. KRISTA Biff, not as stupid as he sounds or looks, is starting to make Marvin pay for his error. While the crowd tries to rally the adored babyface, Shampoo seeks to annihilate him. Atlas has greater success then they do, grabbing Marv's left leg and holding it horizontal to the mat. Showing technique that betrays his stupefying lack of wrestling ability, Biff drapes his right leg across Marv's left. He drops down and beautifully impacts The Marv's leg into stone solid mat! Tormented Marvin screams into the night, drawing tears from many a young woman, and putting a devious grin on Biff's face ALIX (Standing up and cheering like a cheerleader to rally the Boiz) Melvin, Marvin, Mama Cass, drop those pants so I can spank your ass! Atlas elevates a grounded Marv's burdened left leg, then swiftly buries a smart elbow into the sore part of his inner knee. Marvin pulls his sweat soaked upper body off the mat, howling in chilling agony. The expert camera man gets a telling shot of twelve year old girl crying as she watches her crush get brutalized. Looking to inflict even more harm upon the perfectly sculpted body of Marvin Nerdly, Shampoo begins a figure four leg lock. But during the pivotal part, where he has to turn his back to Marv, the Sk8er Boi stuns him by using his good leg to shove him into the turnbuckles nearest the Sk8er corner! The fans pop huge as Shampoo endures a freight train worthy collision with the ring posts. Blue eyes almost rolling into the back of his gigantic dome, the dazed warrior staggers backwards into a rollup by Marvin! Buzzlefoxer drops into position to make the count.... CROWD ONE CROWD TWO Atlas turns a defensive kickout into a clever offensive attack, pressing his sweaty palms onto Marv's sweet tushy and pushing him towards that very same turnbuckle he was so rudely introduced to! As bad as Biff's crash may have been, Marvin's is ten times as repugnant. The alluring hunk trips over his own wrestling boots and impales his shoulder on the callous metal ringpost! Even Mackenzie has to join in the onlookers in shuddering at the head on hit. The silver lining in the very bleak cloud is that Marv landed in his corner. Consequently he's able to tend to his injuries while Mel takes the fight to NRG. KRISTA What a dumb move by Biff. However it's not as dumb as you, Alix, removing the gas gage from your car because you thought that way you'd never have to fill it with gas again. ALIX If it can never hit E, then it's never out of gas. Duh, Krissy! I know stuff because I got my like LSD. KRISTA Honey, do you mean GED? ALIX Oh, I got that to! Teeming with energy (lol da punz!) and spurred on by the fan support, Mel sprints toward Biff at top speed with a shoulder block. Reacting incredibly fast, Atlas adjusts his position, affording himself in easy time in locking Melvin into a sleeper hold. However that pedestrian submission attempt stays cinched in for a paltry five seconds, before Hell Mel ambles to a neutral corner! As Atlas' grip begins to wane, Mel sinks to his knees. Biff's deteriorating hold evaporates entirely and his momentum carries him face first into the top turnbuckle! Biff winces at the sensitive pain, while Mel takes a moment to regroup. Having quickly recovered, Shampoo measures his distance, juts forward and lambastes Melvin with a mighty right cross to the chin. Fortunately Mel has a granite (as a opposed to a glass) chin, and is able to shake the damage off. Before Atlas can lob another hard hitting punch, Mel tries to calm the sociopath down with the sleeper hold Atlas himself used moments ago. He has about as much luck as Biff did, which is to say none at all. The powerhouse from the left coast meets no difficulty in wrapping his arms around Mel's slender waist and clutching onto him like the world's largest leech. He hoists the body women around the globe are drooling over into the air and prepares to destroy him with a back suplex! But the gallant hero turns the tables on the miscreant villain, back flipping out of the move! TERRY Mel and Biff engaging in a bit of one upsmanship! ALIX What do you call it if they both fail miserably at what they were trying to do? One downsmanship? One terrytaylorship? Important questions that can only be answered by making out with this sorority girl behind me. Atlas proceeds to whip Melvin off into the ropes. Mel bounces back, not as the victim, but as the attacker, tossing himself at the nutrition expert with a graceful cross bodyblock! In a scene oft repeated in the world of pro grappling, the big man catches the little man within his king size arms. Biff nods to a smiling Mackie, and proceeds to propel Melvin overhead with a grade A fallaway slam! However, Melvin avoids disaster, landing on his feet! Pulling himself together he dashes at an irate Biff, who is more then happy to try and knock him into the stoneage with a clothesline! But Hell Mel ducks underneath the attack, and carries himself to the corner. As camera flashes litter the tightly packed venue, he escalates to the top turnbuckle and slings himself off with a beautiful flying back elbow! Yet Biff has enough sense and speed to sidestep the nose-diving grappler. As an unfortunate result Melvin hits the mat with a massive impact, music to the ears of those in the NRG camp. Mumbling him to himself like a crazed drunk, Atlas crawls over to Mel, and hooks his legs for a cover. MACKENZIE 1 MACKENZIE 2 Mel kicks out, pulling his shoulder high off the mat, eliciting a grand response from the capacity crowd. When both competitors reach their feet, Atlas flings a booming lariat directly at Melvin's handsome mug. Nerdly thankfully ducks it, leaving Shampoo to clumsily careen forward to the ropes. Sly Marvin is waiting for the musclebound superstar, who seems incapable of hitting the breaks before a grizzly fate befalls him. The Marv underhandedly yanks the ropes down, and Atlas' 287 pounds take a horrendous, but laughable, tumble to the outside mats! Mackenzie is left distraught, but there are about twenty drunk frat boys who are offering a shoulder (among other things) for her to cry on. The quick moving camera man gets an excellent shot of Biff's beet faced agony, as the not so clever crowd chants “Biff sucks” in the background. Meanwhile in the squared circle, NRG's leader Flex Phillips has reintroduced himself to the proceedings! Buzzlefoxer allows this illegal entry to go unchallenged, as the move that took Biff out of the ring wasn't exactly of the legal persuasion itself! KRISTA Poor Biff Atlas. With a name like that the only jobs he could ever get is bodybuilder, wrestler, or the lead role in Dorm Room BUTT Buddies. Trying make up for his earlier abysmal showing, Phillips takes a quick stride forward, wielding an elbow smash. Hell Mel intercepts the oncoming attack with a swift boot to the gut. Coughing and wheezing, Flex is left bent over, and is easy pickings for Mel's sunset flip! The fans' prepare to erupt with cheers for the pinfall, and Mackenzie even hops onto the ring apron to divert the ref. But Flex renders all those actions futile, solidly remaining on his feet despite the forceful tug on his aqua colored tights. Phillips looks down on a grounded Melvin like some kind of vengeful roided up antichrist. He gazes with bitterest gall on the character who's blood is about to adorn his enormous fist. Grinning with predatory glee, Flex drills a ferocious punch towards Mel's lovely face! Thankfully, Hell Mel slides through Flex's legs, and the meathead's hand smashes into the ring floor instead of into his nose! Flex recoils in tremendous pain, as Mackie shakes her head in blatant disgust at his incompetence. Back on his feet, Mel sneaks up behind the larger athlete, and pounds him with razor sharp forearms! The strikes leave bright welts on Phillips' coffee colored skin and double him over. Nerdly slides Flex's arm through his legs, and holds onto it, preventing any escape. He hooks Flex's other arm, putting him into a perilous pump handle position. Hell Mel then humiliates Flex in front of millions of viewers world wide by making like the Road Dogg and furiously pumping his crotch into Flex's firm buttox! After the sodomozation of Flex concludes, Mel lifts the embarrassed Phillips up and plants him on the mat with a marvelous pump handle slam! TERRY I for one can not believe the Sk8er Boiz have managed to out power NRG. I also can't believe I've made it this far without you two robbing me of my self respect and will to live. This is the best day of my life! While the crowd rocks the arena with chants of “SK8 OR DIE”, Melvin, bursting with pride, kips himself up. The bonafide hottie makes the day of millions of women by ripping off his form fitting shirt and exposing his gorgeous six-packed stomach to the salivating viewing audience. The orgasmic cheers for Mel's spicy flesh show are totally deafening. On the outside, Los Diablos have practically passed out from an overload of erotic ecstasy! ALIX (Standing on the sofa, drunkenly waving a five dollar bill the air) Awww yeah, baby! Mister Lincoln says your pants gotta go next! He emancipated the slaves, now he wants to emancipate your ass! Mel kisses his shirt and throws it into the stands, setting off a free for all as fans and Los Diablos fight for the clothing article that's sure to fetch a pretty penny on E-bay. As Mel turns his attention back towards the ring, he 360s in the air following a thunderous clothesline from the tree trunk-like right arm of Biff Atlas. Admist Marv's pandering to the crowd, Flex was able to roll to his corner undetected and tag out. Atlas scoops Mel up and Snake Eyes him on the top turnbuckle. Mel's head disturbingly snaps back as it violently collides with the turnbuckle pad. TERRY That may have done it right there, girls. Biff makes the cover. ONE... TWO... TH-- KICKOUT! Biff jogs to his corner with his hand outstretched. He continues to jog in pace, angrily punching himself in the head, as Flex takes a bite of the NRG apple cinnamon powerbar handled to him by Mackenzie DeCenzo before accepting the tag. Flex latches onto the top rope and swings into the ring, showing great agility for a man his size. Flex trots over to Mel and knocks the air out of the Boi with a double stomp. Phillips mischievously glances to his corner and says with a smile, "5 minutes of cardio," then proceeds to run in place on Mel's stomach! Needles to say, the spectators are most certainly opposed to this unique offensive move! ALIX (singing) He's a manic, manic...! TERRY It's like one of those outdoor woodsmen shows on ESPN. A logroll. It's been ages since I've seen a wrestler use a logroll. The last guy I remember using the move was Big Josh. KRISTA Didn't he become a professional clown for a short while? TERRY Yes he did. Much like the booing fans, The Marv has seen enough! A 5'8 ball of fire, he rushes to his bro's aid and levels Flex from behind with a forearm shiver. While the spectators chant Marv's name, Phillips shakily rises to a knee holding the back of his neck, rudely demanding that old Clem get Marv out of the ring. As the geriatric referee does so, NRG sneakily double up on defenseless Mel. They feverishly stomp the chest and six-pack abs of Mel's, bringing him up to his feet and firing a member of Teen People's Sexiest Tag Team to the ropes for a STANDING FLAPJACK! The females in the crowd and Los Diablos shriek in horror as Mel is shot some 8-10 feet in the air and lands hard on his stomach. Shouting a batch of unintelligible jibber-jabber, Biff jogs back to his corner and does jumping jacks on the apron as Flex covers Hell Mel. Referee Clem Buzzlefoxer goes down to count, but suddenly grasps his chest. The arena falls into an errie silence. Silent and heartfelt prayers for the man's safety are whispered by the god fearing. Clem then shakes his head and counts... TERRY :lol: Good ol' Clem cheated death yet again. Congrats, buddy. ONE... TWO... THR-- NO! "YEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!" TERRY Mackenzie DeCenzo screaming at Clem, saying the 5 seconds it took for him to realize he wasn't having a heart attack cost NRG from getting the 1-2-3. She may have a point there. KRISTA She has a couple of pointers, all right. But I just realized. If she and Flex ever got married, her name would be Mackenzie Phillips. ALIX I'm not as old as you-- I mean, I'm young and native, so I don't get it. KRISTA There's a lot of things you don't get, sweetie. One of them is great sex. But we'll take it "One Day At A Time." The 5'9 human tank, Biff “Shampoo” Atlas is tagged back in, and makes his presence felt, punishing Mel with repeated short-arm clotheslines before shoving him back and drilling him in the jaw with a BIG BOOT. Mel suffers a violent plummet to the mat, wondering if he's minus any pearly whites. Shampoo drops down on him with a cover. ONE... TWO... THREE-- NO! Thankfully Mel got the foot on the ropes just in the nick of time. Barking of an ensemble of unprintable obscenities, Atlas places Hell Mel in a standing headscissors, then lifts him up in the air for a Canadian Backbreaker, but the agile Nerdly twin rolls through and takes an alarmed Biff down with a sunset flip! CROWD ONE... CROWD TWO... THR-- Biff kicks out and levels Mel with a diving clothesline. Shampoo scrapes Mel's carcass off the canvas and rams him face-first into the top turnbuckle in NRG's corner, where a tag to Phillips follows. Flex RAWKS~! Mel with sharp right hands to the chest that threaten to tear away at Nerdly's fair skin. He roughly forces the Boi out of the corner and whips him across the ring. Mel comes back into a MILITARY PRESS SLAM...COUNTERED INTO A SMALL PACKAGE! CROWD ONE... CROWD TWO... THREE-- KICKOUT! “THAT WAS THREE! THAT WAS THREE!” scream the crowd, now wishing Clem had died of the heart attack! KRISTA Clem was definitely a little slow on the count. But having two straight encounters with the grim reaper tends to give a man pause. Mel's face is steeled by determination, he knows in his heart that he's [i]this[/i] close to capturing victory. But he never gets an opportunity to act on that intuition because Flex belts him with a kick to the midsection as he attempts to stand. Phillips moves fast, trapping Melvin into a front facelock then dragging him up with a vertical suplex. But Mel thrills the Arizona crowd when he floats over and rolls up Phillips! CROWD ONE... CROWD TWO... KRISTA Flex kicks out! Two slow counts from Clem. Maybe he's forgotten what comes after two. It's happened to Alix before! As the crowd lustily disagrees with the count, Flex kicks Mel off to the ropes, where a bloodthirsty Biff Atlas waits impatiently on the apron. As Mel nears, Shampoo sticks his shoulder through the ropes, but showing the mark of a cagey veteran, Mel slides under the bottom rope and through Biff's legs. From outside he grabs Atlas' legs and pulls him down, causing Biff to smash his scrunched up face on the ring apron. While Biff howls in stinging pain, and Mackenzie berates him for his uselessness, Nerdly positions himself onto the apron. He ascends to the top rope, only to get caught with a POWERSLAM as he went for a springboard crossbody! ALIX Oh no! Come on Melvin! Or Marvin. I can't really tell them apart. Not at all sympathetic to Biff's plight, Flex gruffly summons him back into the ring. The two powerhouses planning their next move with nothing but eye contact. No words spoken. NRG pound Mel with hammering forearm shots to the back and then bench press him up in the air. TERRY They call this the NRG Burst. A double-team press slam into double gutbuster. They hit this and it's over. Biff and Flex drop Mel, who shocks them by somersaulting in mid-air and giving both members of NRG a HAPPY ENDING (Ace/Diamond Cutter)! "YEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!" TERRY Wow! KRISTA This has turned into quite the exciting match. ALIX I thought the only excitement I'd get out of this was seeing 4 ripped sweaty guys grappling with each other. KRISTA The homorotic undertones of this sport must make men uneasy. The voluminous bodies of Nutrition's Real Gurus are strewn across the canvas as poor Mackenize turns distraught over the depressing state of affairs. While Mel makes an arduous push to his station, she screams for her charges to stand up and fight. Yet her shrill orders do not move the men to action, and Hell Mel continues his trek uninterrupted. The hot tag isn't as dramatic as it normally is, but the fans don't care. They're overjoyed to see Mel bring in his partner! The Marv comes in like a cat on a hot tin roof. Phillips eats a solid right hand but recovers quickly to return the favor with a major league lariat! Yet Marv catches his fast moving an arm, and turns his momentum against him, cruelly dropping the buff grappler back across his outstretched knee! Marv then turns his violence focused attention towards Biff, who looks like a dear caught in headlights, and peppers him with a trio of right jabs. The curmudgeonly redneck tries to stagger away, but Marv's not letting him off that easy, nailing him with an inverted atomic drop! As Biff's blue eyes fill with salty tears, Marvin adds injury to insult, flogging him with a gorgeous flipping dropkick that flings his 257 pounds through the orange ropes and back to the outside. While the front row fans taunt his fallen comrade, Flex stuns Marv from behind with a knee to the lower back. Using his strapping strength he pushes Marv by the shoulders into the corner where he blisters him with a round of scathing right forearms. After he completes his ugly yet effective assault, the Floridian shoots him to the far turnbuckle and follows in, but The Marv runs up the turnbuckles and catches Phillips with a MOONSAULT PRESS! CROWD ONE... CROWD TWO... THRE-- KICKOUT! Both wrestlers rise upright, with Marvin moving a hare faster then his rival. As such he seizes control of the contest with flesh searing knife edge chops. Feeling Flex sufficiently weakened, he boots him in the stomach with a spinning back kick! As Marv sets up for the inverted Stunner he calls the [b]G-Spot Jiggy[/b], busty Mackenize leaps onto the apron distracting the referee. This well timed diversion allows a desperate Flex to KICK him in the GROIN. The females in attendance don't hold back in booing the disgraceful cheap shot. Over on the ring apron, Clem, who's once potent sex drive may have gone the way of the dodo, decides he still fancies the comforts of a foxy lady. Mackenzie is ready to step off the apron but can't as Clem insists he help her down by groping the young beauty! KRISTA What a sick and sad old name he is. TERRY Not as sick and sad as that ASSHOLE, Ned Blanchard! KRISTA Don't patronize me. As Clem and Mackenzie struggle with each other, Flex sends Marv to the ropes and takes him up for spinning sideslam known as the [b]FLEX CAPACITATOR[/b], but Marv counters it with a TILT-A-WHIRL HEADSCISSORS that sends Flex unwillingly running straight for Clem. Unable to see what's charging behind the groping referee, Mackenzie rudely shoves her sexual harasser to the side! Problematically she no longer has an eighty year old man to serve as her meat shield, and Flex runs full force into her voluptuous chest, launching the raven haired harlot clear off the apron! The impressive bump gets a mixed reaction to go up among the crowd. KRISTA The lesson here, ladies: Always let the pervy old men molest you. ALIX Works for me at family reunions! Like a giant redwood falling through a Northern Californian forest Flex timbers back with a resounding thud! He tries his damnedest to pick himself, but his immense strength fails him when he needs it the most. Matters go from bad to worse for Phillips as a top rope based Marv comes screaming off with an insanely high risk REVERSE DIVING HEADBUTT!! The exact nanosecond Marv's cranium crashes into Phillips' oiled up body the muscleman's face goes blank and his hopes of winning this first round Anderson Cup match go up in multicolored flames. The suffer of a terrible migraine, Marvin slowly drapes his arm over Flex's expansive upper body, and Clem hits the mat for the count. The fans are on the edge of their seats, praying to every higher power they know that this will be the decisive pinfall! CROWD ONE... CROWD TWO... CROWD THREE! * DING DING DING * "YEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!" BUFFER Ladies and gentlemen, here are your winners: THE SK8TER BOIZ!!!!!! The camera immediately cuts to a shot of Mackenize, sunk to her knees, angrily beating her fist into the black ring mats, and damning the world for this cruel twist of fate! Meanwhile in the ring, the Boiz are in an understandably celebratory mood. High fives are exchanged, while the audience and Los Diablos continue to bleat their victorious name. As for the two in ring competitors of NRG, a hysterical Biff collects his dazed and confused associate, then storms up the ramp, ranting and raving like some kind of bum on a street corner. Mackenzie dejectedly follows behind, grumbling to herself, sounding only slightly less insane then Biff. KRISTA Wow! I feel like a proud parent. The Sk8er Boiz wrestled this entire contest with confidence. They weren't scared or worried like they used to be when they competed. Today, we saw that a little self confidence goes a long way in making your dreams come true. Congrats to Marvin and Melvin. This match was even better then that April Fools joke we played on you, Terry. ALIX And unlike the joke, this match didn't render you unable to father children! But look on the bright side, dude, no woman would have sex with you, anyway! Except for me. I'm easy like an easy bake oven. TERRY Well, there you have it fans. The Sk8er Boiz have beat NRG, that means they now go on to face ThunderKid and Reject. The winner of that match will pair off against the winner the Los Diablos and Heavenly Rockers bout. In the MWC conference The Sooner Bruisers will meet the undefeated Team Heyross. KRISTA And in the other MWC semi final matchup, The red hot cowboys the Lonestar Gunslingers will square off against Black T. TERRY The Slingers looked very impressive in their upset victory over Christian Wright and Bohemoth, but I don't see them getting past Black T. Girls, it's been a pleasure! This time I'm saying it because I mean it, and not because I'm afraid you'll beat me up. Thank you for being out here this Thursday night. ALIX AND KRISTA Our pleasure! Bye, Terry! (The two walk off, right as Caboose and Cole appear to reclaim their spots. Caboose is carrying a large diet peps and a foam Heavenly Rockers guitar. TERRY Hey! I'm kinda starting to really like it here guys. I just may stay here with you. What do you say to that, Boo-Boo? (Caboose sets down his Diet Coke and picks up his baseball bat. That's all the motivation Taylor needs to haul ass. Sadly he fails to realize that COD taped a “THROW THINGS AT ME!” sign to his back before they left, and is pelted by debris from the crowd as he makes his way backstage.) COLE Caboose, shouldn't we untie Coach? CABOOSE Man, Terry Taylor really messed up my BUTT groove. Coach? What's the rush? He's just going try and sniff where Alix and Krista were sitting.

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Hey, you even fleshed out my third grade worthy descriptions, and added in something to the part where I said I couldn't think of anything! Aren't you just the nicest thing ever?

Bit of a skimpy show, but it was still pretty good. Cuban Wall and The X-Man are a really funny team. I look forward to the day when Wall expresses all his thoughts by punching X in the face as opposed to speaking them out, just to save time. Even if the thoughts and ideas that have nothing to do with the B&B tag team he'll still punch X to express them. That's coming on the deep. PRL surrounds himself with these lackeys in the Lightning crew, so he'll no longer feel like an Outcast. But nothing will ever quell the torment that's stuck with him since childhood, so he lashes out at society and those who are accepted by it. And because of feelings of emptiness and his lack of a sense of belonging, he becomes highly sensitive to the betrayal of his former allies. These men said they were his friends, but they lied, and they made him feel even more alone. That's deep for wrestling. PRL is the tragic figure in our little morality play. Is PRL really the bad guy or is it the culture that created PRL? Deep. I haven't watched a televised wrestling show since WM 20, so dressing as your opponent is fresh to moi. I only remember DX doing it to The Nation, and Triple H did an awful impression of The Rock. He just talked in his normal voice. Take an acting class, you douche! Good AC matches. I was like WTF are The Gunslingers when Tony wrote up the brackets. But that was a real sweet match. Very well written, Big Teezy! Tony, The Heavenly Rockers always have their name written in Dodger Blue, not Lawn Green! I did like the Pale Violet for Los Diablos. I see the Sooners more as an Indian Red then a Firebrick Red. We can talk about it though. I also laughed at the SAG bit. That is educated man's humor, and I am an educated sort. The breathalyser sign was pretty funny also. Anyway, the personality conflict between O'Hara and Parka is interesting. Parka's a pretty straight laced character (aside from the skull mask) but O'Hara obviously isn't. They should go to diversity training or something. The Calvin bit at the end of SJ's promo was an interesting line. Zack is one intense dude. However I must call into question his taste in t-shirts and musical groups.

Who's up for some kinky assplay? The man, the myth, the legend, Josh “J.Math” Matthews, master of the Mathillennium, and stone cold pimp of the nation, is positioned at the top of lavishly decorated OAOAST interview stage, which currently rests to the bottom left of the giant video screen above the entrance door. Hanging on the walls of the stage are pictures of various OAOAST stars past and present, Tony Brannigan, Dan Black, Some Guy, Zack, CWM, Peter Knight, etc. Decked out in an Anglemania basketball jersey, and baggy sweatpants, Josh stands proud, ignoring the numerous accusations of goat rape from the various crowd members. JOSH “J.MATH” MATTHEWS, MASTER OF THE MATHILLENNIUM AND STONE COLD PIMP OF THE NATION Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to bring to you one of the newest tag teams in the OAOAST, Flex Phillips, Biff Atlas....N...R...G! The second Josh concludes his introduction, the airy sounds that make up the opener of former Bush frontman Gavin Rossdale's song [i]Adrenaline[/i] fill the jam packed venue. The arena dims down to an erry darkness, illuminated solely by a green glow engulfing the entrance stage. Several seconds pass through time, allowing comments and boos to slip out the lips of the restless audience. Eventually the pace of Mister Stefani's voice picks up as does the accompanying instrumentals. The entrance doors tearing apart, revealing for the very first time, the duo known as NRG. Flex Phillips outfitted in a stunning navy pinstriped suit, steps out to the edge of stage, arrogantly regarding the booing audience with bitterest contempt. Biff Atlas, tobacco bulging the side of his fat cheek, stalks across the staging area, occasionally spiting the brown substance at those spectators who have the nerve to taunt him. Eventually the muscular pair congregate at the interview set. JOSH Flex, Biff, great to have ya here on HeldDOWN~! FLEX PHILLIPS First off, I would be remiss if I didn't take a moment to thank Axel for providing myself and my partner with the time to speak on matters. Axel is a man who's keen eye for talent quickly implores his swift hand to action! Biff and I are proud to represent the NRG banner within Axel's HeldDOWN~! “AX-HOLE! AX-HOLE!” chants a single fan in a MST3K t-shirt in response to the mention of Axel's name. Biff manages to shut him up by spitting a wad of tobacco in his face. FLEX Secondly, I'd be like to introduce the viewing audience to a woman who's pure class is only dwarfed by her immense beauty. The radiance of her very presence will lighten the darkness within your pitiful soul. She is our business consultant, Miss Mackenzie DeCenzo! (The entrance doors open allowing, a leggy, busty brunette in a business suit to step out. She bounces-bounce being the operative word-over to J.Math, who's grinning from ear to ear.) MACKENZIE DeCENZO Thank you. Although I've never watched professional wrestling, and have little interest the product presented and am indifferent to it's continued success, I am not depressed to be here. Thank you. FLEX Thirdly, Josh, direct your eyes to the giant video screen above you, and look at me, then look at you. If the clothes truly make the man, then I must be made out of 24 Karat gold. You, however look to be made out of the pooling puddle of piss and semen next to the toilet inside the center stall of a homeless shelter's bathroom. What in God's name are you wearing, Josh? JOSH This is a shirt. These are pants You might have learned that in second grade. And this thing I'm talking into, this is a microphone. Can you say microphone? FLEX Well, Carson Daly, what you call a shirt I call an affront to good taste and respectable fashion. JOSH What do you mean? This is fly fabric! My threads are off the chain! I look goooood. If I was a grocery store, I'd be super fresh, because that's what I am! Fre-fre-fre-fre-fresh! “KILL YOURSELF, JOSH!” screams a nearby fan. FLEX Fly fabric? Josh, this interview is not being conducted at some rinky dink indy wrestling outfit running down at Mike's Bar N Grill in front of twenty five people who are only there to get out of the rain. According to apron on the ring, and the banner on this interview stage, you are on HeldDOWN. Last I checked HeldDOWN was a cutting edge television show, broadcasted into the homes of millions of loyal viewers worldwide. I would hope you would have the dignity to present yourself as such! But you think it's cool to dress like one of the rubes, don't you? Why do we even need you, Josh? Why don't we just use this guy in the front row, stuffing his face with nachos slowly eating himself into cardiac arrest, to interview us? Biff, Josh thinks his “fly fabric” is alright. Josh Matthews, thinks it's okay to conduct himself without a level of professionalism due his station! (Moaning sweetly, Biff takes a loving a sniff of Josh's hair) BIFF His hair smells real pretty. JOSH Uh...um...thanks? FLEX Josh, consider this an intervention from a fashion expert. I want you to put this on. (Flex takes off his suit coat and puts it on Josh. Thanks to the obvious size differential between Flex and Josh, the suit makes the interviewer look like a young child who's tried on his daddy's work clothes.) FLEX Dress like the man, and you will be the man. NRG Word of Wisdom Number 129. America, how does J.Math look? “I'D FUCK HIM!” screams a seven year old boy. FLEX What do you say, Biffster, how's he looking? Does he look like the man? (Purring as he does so, Biff gently glides his stubby fingers through a terrified Josh's gorgeous hair) BIFF Damn, your hair smells pretty. What do you put in it? JOSH Uh, Pantene Pro-V. BIFF That all? Just Pantene? Smells real pretty 'n sweet. God damn. Flex, you gotta take a whiff of this here kid's hair. (Flex leans in for a sniff. He smiles as the sweetend aroma of Josh's scent wafts up his nostrils) FLEX I'm liking it. I'm liking it. Speaking of fine shampoo products, you know what I dig? That Herbal stuff.. Errands, echoes, starts with an e. BIFF Herbal Essence, ya filthy hippy. And that's a conditioner. FLEX What's the difference? MACKENZIE Conditioner goes on after shampoo. But Herbal Essence is a shampoo also. I really like their Fruit Fusions line. BIFF I happened to have never tried that! MACKENZIE Oh, you don't know what your missing, Biff! It does wonders for oily hair! JOSH Oooookay, well it's been very educational from the Loreal contingent. But how about we get down to business. And our business is wrestling! Next week you two face off in our final Anderson Cup opening match, against none other then the Sk8er Boiz..... The females in the audience let loose with a full throated roar for the handsome hunks. JOSH Listen to that reaction! It should be one heck of a fight, eh! BIFF Hippy, that's as much a fight as there is between a lion and a zebra. It never fails to make me laugh when I watch the Discovery channel, and I see the zebra running it's ass off, as if it has a chance of being the one zebra who actually can cheat death. The zebra has no chance! When you put the mightiest animal on earth, the lion, against the zebra, the outcome is inevitable! The zebra lives as long as the lion allows it to live! The Sk8er Boiz live as long as we allow them to live! When the lion wants that zebra, it's over. When we want the Sk8er Boiz, it is over for them! The lion is the king of that zebra's world. NRG is the king of the Sk8er Boiz' world. When someone dies, you say god thought it was their time to go. There is no god in my jungle! [i]I am god[/i], damn it! I am the lion, I decide who lives and who dies! And I say the zebra is deader then disco! This is a scene that has played out for centuries! This very scene will play out next week on HeldDOWN! Show up at the arena on January 26th and you can watch nature at it's most barbaric! When the lion gets the zebra in it's fangs, there is nothing left for that zebra but a gruesome, bloody death. Zoom in close cameraman, get a good shot of the savage beast. You can see the saliva dripping off the edge of my razor sharp fangs, you can smell the pungent odor of the bloodlust on my rancid breath. The lion is hungry. The lion wants his zebra! (Biff starts sniffing Josh's hair again) And maybe the lion wants a mate to. Maybe the king of the jungle...needs a queen? I bet yer a real swell kisser, Josh. Ain'tcha, hippy? You got them real thick lips that are right for baby makin'. FLEX (impersonating Austin Powers) Grrrrrrr, baby, very grrrrr. (A fearful Josh hides behind Mackenzie, who's seems least likely to renact a seen from [i]Deliverance[/i]) MACKENZIE It's not a fight. It's a slaughter. It's the superior life form reaffirming dominance over the inferior life form. JOSH We're all aware of what your issue is with the Boiz, but most of us don't think it makes any real sense. What is the problem with them giving your products props? Krista Isadora Duncan was more then happy that they endorsed her videos and books. If Boiz are good enough for Kris, aren't they good enough for NRG? A “Krista” chant starts up among the spectators. MACKENIZE Did you see her at the Golden Globes? Psh! What about that dye job, Biff? BIFF It looked like a skunk went 'n died up on her head. I had to turn my TV off, I did. It was that ugly. FLEX Matthews, you like the rest of America have brought into the carefully constructed marketing scheme known as Krista Isadora Duncan. The quirky personalities of Krista, and her cute little sidekick Alix, are about as real as Santa Clause or the Tooth Fairy. They are the high paying machinations of a well funded corporate think tank. Get on your sunglasses, because I'm about to show you the light. Let me tell you a little something about the lovely and talented Krista Isadora Duncan. She isn't lovely, and the jury's still out on the talented bit, I do declare. I know Krista Isadora Duncan “world renowned fitness expert” and she may be world renowned but the only thing she's an expert in is giving lap dances at the company's Christmas party after a few Strawberry Daiquiris. Her and her sidekicks rise to the top of the entertainment industry is solely due to the fact that they have no qualms about sleeping with every man and woman in their Rolodex! Krista's word in the fitness industry holds as much weight as that loud mouth boar Doctor Phil's does in the world of psychology. Her brand of “pop fitness” isn't fit to be taken seriously by anyone with a fully functioning brain. Let me read an excerpt from her book [i]Soul of a Womyn[/i], I've memorized it by heart, “In order to achieve the best possible you, you must carefully outline your fitness and beauty goals.” (Flex pauses to laugh at the stupidity only he can see.) FELX Holy shit on a peanut butter and penis sandwich! What a profound and astounding revelation, Miss Isadora Duncan! Might there be any other nuggets of shimmering wisdom you'd enjoy sharing with us? Apparently there are because she's wrote about ten of these things. Each more trite then the last. You can take her words with more salt then the Gunther Salt company produces in a year. Who's letting this woman write self help books, when she's lugging around more baggage then a Samsonite factory? She's one DUI away from getting the pink slip dropped on her, and spending the next six years of her miserable life as the center square on [i]Hollywood squares[/i]. Don't listen to her. Of course she'll take an endorsement from the Sk8er Bois. She doesn't care about the quality of her product. Not like I do. Not like NRG does. She was on Oprah a week ago and she let Oprah endorse her product! Oprah for Pete's sake! Oprah endorsing a fitness product? Wrap your brain around that, man! MACKENIZE Biff, did you see Oprah's hair when she interviewed that woman who's husband get killed on that cruise ship? BIFF Those curls were simply divine, Oprah. Simply divine. FLEX Uh-huh. Josh, within the word NRG there is a silent Q. That Q stands for quality. You can take away our offices, you can take us off the shelves, you can take away our tax records in an IRS investigation my lawyer advised me not to comment on, but you can never take away the Quality! As I tell my shareholders with both pride and conviction, quality is the one thing that NRG embodies. Quality in it's employees. Quality in it's product. Quality in it's presentation. Quality in it's customers. The Sk8er Boiz are anything but quality. NRG is used by the crème de la crème. The Sk8er Boiz are the merde de la merde. The shit of the shit. And what do you do with shit? “EAT IT!” screams a fan in the front row. FLEX No. You flush it down the toilet, and that is exactly where the Sk8er Boiz' chances of winning this tournament went the moment they were paired against NRG. NRG.... BIFF TASTE THE RAINBOW! (Face twisted in annoyance, Flex punches the air) MACKENZIE Biff, that's not the slogan. BIFF It ain't? FLEX Noooooooo. Let's try one more time. NRG... “I LIKE TO EAT SHIT!” screams the fecalmaniac in the front row. (Driven to edge of his sanity, Flex storms off the stage, cussing under his breath. Slightly more upbeat, Biff and Mackie follow suit.) JOSH You have been NRGIzed, ladies and gentlemen! Triple C, the stone cold pimp of the nation sends it back to ya'll skeezers.