King Cucaracha

I KNEW I was forgetting to do something these past few weeks. Eh, when it becomes "ECW" I guess I'll have to find time to restart the recaps regularly what with everyone apparantly so interested in this for whatever reason.

Well, I suck. HI-YAH Triple Threat is finally up. Not that it's an excuse, but I had to fill in the final half of RFTG and the time I had set aside to write the triple threat got used up by a pretty important (read: more important than this crappy rushjob) SWF match. I've spent the past week re-arranging my SWF feud and my OAOAST feud because two people have dropped out on me, not to mention real-life. So, I had plans in place but they got screwed up. And by the time I came to write the match, I 'wasn't feeling it'. So, yeah, I know my match was the least of everyone's worries here but there's my excuse. Take it or leave it

In the lavish Honeymoon Suite of the Hotel, new SWF World Heavyweight Champion Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix is clearly having an easy time of it, unlike others who've been roped into showing up at Aftershoxx. Let alone those that have to wrestle. Champ's perks, I guess. Laid back on the king sized hotel bed, worryingly wearing just a towel, Landon reaches across to his bedside cabinet and grabs a strawberry from the stacked bowl beside him, not taking his eyes off the TV screen for a second. "Oh, Dr. Cox, you are a bitch!" Just now realising that there's a camera in his hotel room (either Landon is very dumb, or a half decent actor), Landon rolls off of the bed. Thankfully, he preserves his modesty, although to be honest it's not very modest to cut a promo while wearing a towel. Then again, when you're the champ, you set your own trends. "Hi Amy. Recognise these?" smiles Landon, pointing down to his washboard abs. "Sorry I couldn't be there tonight, but I'm getting in a little rest and relaxation after Battleground here at this ridiculously expensive and, might I add, rather exclusive hotel. But, despite the plush furnishings, the complimentary chocolates on the pillow and the...other 'distractions' of these hotels, I couldn't help thinking I owed you an explanation." Landon sits himself back down on the bed, which is presumably a waterbed judging by how far it sinks down. And thankfully, Landon's wearing underwear, so the up-towel view isn't quite so horrific as he folds one leg over the other. "So...well, where do I start? You know how it goes Amy." shrugs a noticeably unsincere Maddix. "It's like that song they keep playing on the radio where you come from...Boys Will Be Boys. From the moment you came to the SWF, you were determined not to be another 'diva'. You wanted to be seen as an athlete, not a pair of breasts on a body. And, obviously, you've got an inferiority complex about guys because all you've been doing since you arrived is trying to prove you're better than any man walking. Must be a family thing, huh? One could say you were over-wary of the guys in the back. But you dropped your guard just for that split second and BAM!, I moved in for the kill. Now, I hardly blame you for falling for me, but surely you didn't think it was anymore than a bit of fun? Surely not, Amy. Because that'd mean you being outsmarted by a guy and that just can't be, now can it?" The sneer on Landon's face eventually disappears. "Now, don't get me wrong, this wasn't all some calculated plan to humilate you or anything so sinister, that's not my style. There was something there. An attraction...a spark, I guess. But Amy, you were destined to be nothing more than a silver medal so long as Megan still existed within God's green Earth. If your brother were around, he'd have told you himself. Me and Megan, we've got some history, see. We had a falling out, sure...but the moment we patched up our differences, everything changed. Do I feel guilty about what happened? Maybe. A little." Standing himself up, Landon folds his arms and tries to look authoritive, despite the fact he's cutting a promo while wearing a towel. "But Amy, deep down, you knew what this was. All it was was a little bit of fun, some casual sex and a way of riling up your brother to get him to bring his Limey, punk rock, lesbian resembling ass back to the SWF. And guess what, it didn't work. So, we move on. Boys Will Be Boys. And boys being boys, I move on to someone else...someone I'm more suited to. Someone I'm more compatable with. My GOLD medal. No offence Amy, we had some good times and you served your purpose, but I'm sure you'll get over it and find someone else to shack up with. Hell, you and Bruce have that 'love/hate' tension going on, maybe he'll find a space in his trailer for you to get your thing going? Or, then again, there's Sean Davis. He misses Toxxic quite some bit apparantely, so maybe if you dress up like him he'll jump your bones. Shouldn't be hard. He looks enough like a woman as it is, if you catch my dri..." "Baby, did you find it?" Landon pauses and turns to the closed door at the back of his room where the familiar female voice had eminated from. Slowly, the door opens with a sea of steam flooding out and the sound of his en-suite shower powering away in the background. Once the steam clears, Megan Skye emerges from the bathroom, clad in only a tight fitting pink towel (why Landon has pink towels is a good question for another day) with her hair dripping wet and a cheeky grin on her face. "Oh, there it is." Megan smiles as she reaches to the side of the bed and picks up the champagne bucket, rattling around the ice in it. "Cutting a promo, are we?" "Yep." "Did you get to the part where you tell them you spit hot fire yet?" "I was just getting to that bit." Landon smirks. "No, actually, I was addressing 'Hardcore Amy'." Megan smiles again as she closes the door leading to the en-suite behind her, looking decidedly better in a towel than Landon...well, than Landon ever could. "Hardcore Amy, huh?" "Oh yeah." smirks Landon again. "'Hardcore Amy'." Megan repeats, with a fair bit of disgust in her voice. "Well, Amy, anything you can do I can do just as well...but, maybe we shouldn't go into too many details about that right now." Megan says cheekily as she winks at Landon. "You know, maybe seeing as this is a 'promo' and all, we should talk business. I don't know, I haven't done this for quite a while you see. I doubt you realise it, but once upon a time I used to know my way around a wrestling ring and be quite comfortable in front of a camera." "I bet you were." Megan playfully punches Landon on the arm. "We used to have this little thing called 'The SWF Women's Championship'. Didn't really catch on, but at one time I owned that belt. You might have thought that Battleground was going to be your personal little playground on Sunday but Amy, you made one fatal mistake. You underestimated me. You made the same mistake Todd did. I mean, if he'd have known how easily I could have 'earned' him a shot at the World Heavyweight Championship he'd be kicking himself right now. One contract renewal and Landon's back at the top of the card. And Amy, I'm not just brains. I'm not just a pretty face. You didn't even give a second thought that maybe, believe it or not, I'm not a complete stranger to professional wrestling. I've been trained by the best..." Behind Megan, Landon raises his hand, pointing proudly to himself. "...and I've been in this business for years. Years. You're a tough gal by all accounts and I'm sure you had visions of tearing my pretty little face apart at the PPV, getting revenge for stealing your fuck buddy from under your nose. I mean, I'm just some blonde bimbo, right? Am I six foot whatever like Bruce Blank? No. Am I two, three hundred pounds like him? No. Am I as fast or as athletic as Zyon? No. But Amy, one thing I most certainly am is smarter than you, 'ya get me'?" "Shame it wasn't a spelling bee, you'd have really wiped the floor with her." Landon jokes from the background. "True, true. But then again, we wiped the floor with her anyway." Megan shrugs. The dynamic duo share a hearty laugh, Megan flicking her hair from her eyes without realising she's also potentially blinding Maddix with shampoo. Megan then walks herself around the bed, Maddix watching her carefully (as any red-blooded man would) as she retrieves the World Heavyweight Title from beside the bed. "Speaking of which." "Oh, well, you know me. I hate to gloat." smirks Landon, accepting the title and throwing it over his bare shoulder. "But, seeing as we're here. You know, there were a lot of people who were doubting me leading up to Battleground. A lot. 'Oh, why is HE challenging for the title' they cried, 'what has HE done to deserve it?'. 'What kind of a Champion would he make?'. Your answer is right here people...a damn good one. Fifteen long months after I lost possession of this belt and it took just one match to prove I've still got it. One match to shut up all my critics who apparantly forgot that I've won everything there is to win in this company. Well...not the Hardcore and Cruiserweight Titles...but, you know, all the important things." Megan laughs heartily. "JJ, you put up a good fight as I knew you would. Unfortunately it wasn't quite good enough, but it was a good effort. And there's no hard feelings on my end. So, I'm glad you've got your Tag Team Title to console yourself with. Good luck with that." Flashing an insincere thumbs up to the camera, Maddix gives the cheesiest grin in his repetoire. "And now, the hunt begins. Everybody's jumping on the bandwagon, wanting to be the man to challenge this 'undeserving' World Champion. I expected sour grapes, but I honestly didn't expect them from you Jay Hawke. You, of all people. A guy I considered an ally...a guy I held the World Tag Team Titles with once upon a time. Jay, a word of advice. Sour grapes doesn't suit you. If you wanted a title shot, all you had to do was ask. Of course, you'd have to wait in line while you prove yourself, but I'd certainly take your request under some advisement for old time's sake." Maddix adjusts his title, then his towel. "So, that's that out of the way. First promo as Champ. Again, I'm sorry I couldn't be there with you all tonight but to be honest I'm really enjoying these champion's privledges I'm recieving. I would say that you understand...but, of course, none of you do. So, me and Megan have got a shower to finish so I'm gonna wrap this up now. Landon Maddix, your World Champion, signing off." Another shared laugh from the towel clad twosome signals promo over and the fact the camera abruptly blacks out signals something goin' down! Hey, Champ's perks, eh?

Even worse. Ordinary Boys...you know Preston who was in Big Brother and he's dating Chantelle? His band. How do you not KNOW this? It was played all the time when BB ended.

The triple threat tag is going to be late. If it isn't done by Monday night, it'll keep until Thursday, but leave me a spot just incase please.

We leave Indianapolis and go all the way across the US of A to Los Angeles, Californ-i-a. Our image is that of Krista Isadora Duncan's front lawn, where crisp patterns of finely manicured greenery play out across a solid ground of pebbles, sand, and brick. [img=http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y39/Portfree/krisfront.jpg] The house in all it's splendor. Situated at the edge of estate behind a white ribbon and underneath a sign marked “FINISH” is the coveted 24/7 title. Sitting next to the finish line in two lawn chairs are our announcers for this unusual contest.... [IMG=http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y39/Portfree/doublet.jpg] Terry Taylor! And [IMG=http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y39/Portfree/kri.jpg] Krista Isadora Duncan! TAYLOR Whew! It's Run For The Gold time! This match probably would've been on sooner, but well, Krista and I had a bit of a uh, well, a nooner. KRISTA LIES! You had a “nooner”. I had an inadvertent front row seat and that's the last time I allow you into my bedroom. Fixing the loose knob on my underwear drawer my ass. TAYLOR Well! Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to land of the rich and famous, Beverly Hills, California! We are at the glamorous estate of Hollywood superstar, Krista Isadora Duncan, for the second annual Run for the Gold! This year it's the 24/7 title that is on the line! Krista, you look ravishing tonight. KRISTA I always look ravishing. When I was girl and I won Miss Teen California, they said I looked like a young Ava Gardner. TAYLOR I never knew you won Miss Teen California. KRISTA Oh sure, a few of the other girls met with unfortunate and bloody endings just days before the contest began, and sure the DA may have wanted to link the bloody ax the cops found in my room to the murders, but a jury of my peers found the weapon to be purely coincidental and acquitted me on all charges. TAYLOR (going pale) That story was a joke, right? KRISTA Maybe so, maybe no. The point is I've always been ravishing. Even as a fetus I was gorgeous. My sonogram could've been a Playboy Centerfold. A lot of people say I look like Charlize Theron. Wrong. Krista never imitates. Charlize stole her appearance from me. But I begrudge her nothing. If you're going to copy someone, make it the most gorgeous person in America. Me. I'm beautiful, I could get a priest to ditch his vow of celibacy with a wink of my eye. I could make an archbishop buy a lap dance. Krista pulls out a compact mirror and begins to admire herself. When she gets like this it's pretty much impossible to get her to focus on anything but herself so Terry takes over. TAYLOR Well, then! Fans, the rules of a Run For The Gold are easy to understand. Each wrestler starts off in the back yard, and will race to the rear entrance of Krista's mansion. Once inside the house, they have to make their way out into the front yard, and head to the finish line. The first person to cross the finish line is the 24/7 champion! Let's go to the backyard for the start of the contest! KRISTA (speaking to her reflection in baby talk) Aren't you just the cutest little thing? Yes you are! Yes you are! Mommy, loves you so much. Yes she does. Yes she does! We're given a birds eye view of Krista's spacious rear yard, showing us how much ground the wrestlers have to cover before they reach the house. Dutifully attending to Krista's golf course worthy lawn are a fleet of gardeners. Somehow these men remain oblivious to the fact that a wrestling match is about to occur in their work space, despite the presence of camera crews, referees, and half naked muscular men. Regardless of the lawn care workers questionable state of mind, the show must go on! Thus we throw it over to little Maya Olivia Myrick (Myrick being Krista's real last name), for the opening introductions. MAYA The following contest is a run for the gold for the two hundred forty seven title! Am I really on TV? Can I say hi to my friend Susan? Hi Susan, I'm on TV! KRISTA That's my girl! She's wonderful, isn't she, Terry? TERRY She's adorable, Krista, you should be proud. MAYA The first wrestler is from Venice Beach, California! Hey, I'm from California! We're from the same state! This man weighs two hundred twenty five pounds, and his name is Biff Atlas! My Aunt Clara lives in Venice Beach, do you know my Aunt Clara? Biff, dressed in a ludicrous straw hula skirt, and matching vine ankle bracelets, does an even more ludicrous hula dance, to no one's delight. MAYA The second wrestler is from Fort Lauderdale, Florida! He's two hundred and sixty seven pounds! His name is Flex Phillips. Hi, Flex, it's nice to meet you! Wearing his usual aqua colored wrestling trunks, Flex strikes a pose that's intended on being menacing, but couldn't intimidate a small child. And it doesn't, because Maya laughs at him. MAYA The third wrestler is my third favorite wrestler in the whole wide world, I have a poster of him hanging on my wall. He's also from California, like me, but he lives in Laguna Beach which is a couple miles down the road in Orange County. I told mommy I wanna go, but she says she doesn't want to drive on highway five traffic. Anyway he weighs one hundred and ninety pounds. He is Melvin Nerdly! Do you think we can hang out after your race is over, Melvin? Maybe we can go to the mall with my friend Susan! Melvin, sporting his usual white jeans with paint splotches, blows a kiss to Maya who goes absolutely gaga over the gesture. MAYA The fourth wrestler is also my third favorite wrestler, and he's from Laguna Beach also, but he wasn't on the TV show [i]Laguna Beach[/i], which I really like because I think Stephen is hot. But I think Marvin is hot also. Ooops, I just said his name. Sorry! Do you wanna go to the mall with me and Melvin, Marvin? You can be Susan's date and we can double date and go see a movie. But mommy says I'm not allowed to go out on a date until I'm forty five. Wearing the same outfit as his brother, Marvin Nerdly bows to his adoring fan, while Flex scoffs in the background. MAYA The next guy is from Grand Rapids which is in Michigan. And he's Jade's brother, and I like Jade, she's really funny and nice, and she sends me postcards from different places, and she's just awesome. Her brother's weight is two hundred and twenty eight pounds, and his name is the douche! KRISTA Oh lord, I see that she's been eavesdropping on my phone conversations again. Leon, outfitted in white tennis shoes and black workout pants, just holds his head down and sighs. Phillips sizes Leon up with a murderous glare, no doubt branding the babyface as the man who stands the greatest chance of challenging him for the 24/7 title. MAYA Finally it's my Auntie Alix! She's the champ! She's from LA just like me. Hi, Auntie Alix! Alix, in a grey t-shirt that reads [b]I LOVE MY BOYFRIEND[/B] and a denim mini skirt, waves to little Maya. KRISTA Great job, Maya! Well done, sweetie! MAYA Auntie Alix, are you ready? Melvin, are you ready? Marvin, are you ready? Douche, are you ready? Other two guys, are you ready? Then on your mark....get set.....GO! [B]BANG!!!![/B] A nearby referee fires a pistol, commencing this unorthodox race. The warriors zoom towards the house, knowing that the object of their desires lies beyond that complex and in the front yard. Leon seems to move the fastest, and manages to create quite a bit of distance between himself and the pack. A sly smile slips onto his face as it's starting to look like regaining the 24/7 title might be a little easier then he thought. Unfortunately he's unable to leave his slow poke enemies in the dust because a gardener on a John Deere riding mower recklessly zip in front of him, nearly slicing his feet off! A quick moving Rodez narrowly escapes the catastrophic disaster. Although he's not one to get angry, Leon can certainly think of a few choice words to hurl at the bothersome fellow. KRISTA Pedro, you fool! He's not Kuta Kente! This isn't Roots! Don't chop his foot off! Get the weed wacker, and go for the throat, damn it! Patience all but depleted, Leon prepares to yell at the intrusive twit to move out of the way. But what winds up leaving his lips is a loud “Ooomph” as Flex Phillips floors him with a lariat to the back! Flex's ally, Biff, stops his own pursuit of the title long enough to see if his partner needs any assistance in obliterating the grounded Rodez. But Flex assures him that he has everything under his sinister control, and Biff trots away to attend to his own creepy business. TAYLOR Flex had his eye on Leon this whole time. Even before the race started he was sizing him up. I think he knows that Leon is his main competition. While Rodez writhes in anguish on the lush greenery, Flex roughly yanks the bewildered gardener off the mower in order to commandeer it for his own purposes. He ignores the grousing of the worker, and hops onto the vehicle's yellow seat while eying Leon with predatory intent. The engine purrs ominously, and it becomes readily apparent that Phillips is planning to use the mower's blades to turn poor Leon into silky smooth hamburger! TAYLOR Kris, he wouldn't! KRISTA Oh, yes he would. Now if there was a celebrity homicide in my backyard, would that increase or decrease my property value? Alix, sharply aware of Flex's aim, bravely darts across the lawn to aid Leon, who's fear seems to have rooted him in his spot. She springs into the air and lands perfectly on Flex's expansive back, taking the steroid charged meathead by surprise. As veins of anger erupt on her forehead, she tangles her arms around his thick neck, choking him out in revenge for trying to [i]kill[/i] Leon. The sudden shock of having an extra one hundred and thirty pounds on his back, and a vice grip on his neck, saturates Flex with panic. This panic clouds his thought process and provokes him to slam on the accelerator in an unwise effort to ditch the bubbly redhead. The vehicle angrily careens forward like a bumper car, nearly reducing the workers, who are scarcely able to avoid it's chaotic path, to bits and pieces. The mower zooms past the fallen and frightened workers, and takes itself on a kamikaze trip towards the swimming pool. Leon's alarmed eyes watch in sheer horror as Alix and Flex fail miserably in their final effort to steer the green beast away from the blue lagoon. KRISTA Ah, the pool. A drunk Chad Smith of the Red Hot Chili Peppers once did a cannonball off the roof of the cabana all the way to the pool. The pool wasn't filled with water at the time. Screams of horror spew from the lips of Alix and Flex as they dive over the edge of the pool, and into the chlorine filled abyss. A pillar of water erupts when the duo and their automobile plunge into the depths of the aquatic void. Their shouting is muffled thanks to the mass of water that invades their lungs. All traces of them, both audio and visual, disappear beneath the shimmering ocean. A bewildered fog seems to settle over Leon's glassy eyes. He looks around, not fully comprehending what just happened to his girlfriend or the man who was seeking to chop him into bits. KRISTA Oh no! Alix! Jesus Christ, Terry! Do you think she's okay?! TAYLOR I don't know, it looked like she kind of managed to dive off at the last second, and go into the pool on her own, unlike Flex Phillips... KRISTA Who the hell is Flex Phillips? Stop making things up and focus, man, focus! My poor Alix! Back on land, Marvin Nerdly is pursuing the crown prince of hair care, Biff Atlas, across the lawn. The Western Canadian quickly gains on the fleeing hair fetishist, his legs a blur of superhuman speed, hurling him after his adversary. Within seconds both wrestlers reach the entrance of the tennis court, where Marv makes sure to note the tennis ball machine resting behind the net. TAYLOR (looking around) Hey, what's that barking sound? KRISTA Oh, my puppy is flirting with my rabbit again. TAYLOR Doesn't he know that's a male rabbit? KRISTA Don't judge my puppy. Tapping hidden reserves of strength and speed, Marvin lunges forward and tackles Atlas. His arms grip tightly onto the bodybuilder and they topple into the entrance of the court, their combined momentum knocking the chain link door off it's hinges! KRISTA Ding ding ding ding dong! TAYLOR What are you doing? KRISTA I always thought that door should have a bell that goes off when you open it. And now it does. Ding ding ding dong! Unfortunately now the door is on the ground, rendering my bell sound effects obsolete. Locked in a mortal death grip, the pair go flying into the court, and nose dive onto the cement surface. The vicious landing violently separates the brawlers, and they roll away from each other before scrambling to their feet. The warriors face off in the center of the court, flaunting demonic fangs and clenched fists, eager to pound each other into submission. Marv feels a sudden pang of vulnerability as he watches his rival pick up a nearby tennis racket. “Fore!” Biff screams, unaware that you say “fore” in golf, not tennis. Regardless of his dimwitted comments, Atlas makes like Venus Williams and sends an overhand smash into Marvin's skull, ripping shockwaves of pain throughout his slender body. KRISTA Ah, the racket! TAYLOR Let me guess, signed by Pete Sampras and given to you as a birthday gift by Debbie Harry of Blondie. KRISTA Actually I found it in a dumpster in San Diego. And a dumpster is where I'll leave your battered and beaten body if you ever sass me like that again. Wu-Tang forever, Terry. Having now discarded the racket, Biff coils his hands around the Laguna Beach native's throat and casually chucks him over the net! Upon landing Marv finds himself rolling down the court, and the rough surface slices through his skin, opening tiny cuts on his arm. However he's able to halt his spiraling retreat and he springs to his feet, where he meets Biff, who's stepping over the net, with a frenzy of forearm smashes. Yet these rapid fire shots do little to damage Atlas, and with one mighty swing of his fist he sends Marvin plumetting to the ground. Now lying in a heap of baby oil, expensive jeans, and high lighted hair, The Marv painfully wonders if he's just been hit by a punch or a runaway train. Runaway train never coming back. Wrong way on a one way track. Seems like I should be getting somewhere. Somehow I'm neither here nor there. TAYLOR I could be wrong, but I have the feeling that NRG could be the next breakout team here in the OAOAST. KRISTA Are you for real? Do they actually pay you to spout these nuggets of utter stupidity? One of 'em just drove a lawn mower into my swimming pool, and the other is wearing a hula skirt that's two sizes too short on the same day he decided to free ball it. TAYLOR It's just a matter of opinion, Kris. KRISTA No, it's a matter of you smoking rocks. Are we going to have our next run for the gold when we visit you in rehab? Lord knows, I'll be headed there soon. Maybe we can be roommates. We can be the rehab version of Laverne and Shirley. (singing) One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, schlimiel, schlimazel, hasenpfeffer, incorporated. We're gonna do it! Atlas reaches down, clamps his hand around Nerdly's throat, and drags him upwards. He extends the hunky grappler out, smiling ruefully while Marv's talons slash against the arm that holds him aloft. Suddenly a sharp pain rings around Biff's body, as a mysterious object crashes into his lower back. Atlas groans nosily as his back is struck three more times by the unidentified tools of destruction. The unexpected emergence of the weapons momentarily confuses Atlas. And the second of uncertainty causes his hold on Marv to loosen just enough to permit the Sk8r to worm his way free of the embrace. Marv lands perfectly on his Nike sneakers and shouts, “Dodge this!” right before he unloads on Biff with a superkick. Marv's shoe collides with a dumbfounded Biff full on, lifting him clear off his bare feet, and propelling him backwards. Fortunately the net manages to break Biff's fall, otherwise his tanned skin would've been shredded by the green cement surface. With Atlas out of the way, the camera is able to show us who and what saved Marvin from Biff's chokeslam. Marvin's savior is none other then his twin brother, Melvin, who's manning the tennis ball machine that rocketed yellow balls at Biff. “Thanks, dude!” Marvin hollers. Rather then simply say “no problem”, which would be the brotherly thing to do, Melvin responds by shooting a tennis ball at Marvin, nailing him square in the kneecap. “Owwwww!” A hobbling Marvin bellows, half out of pain, half out of shock. “What the hell do you think you're doing, eh? I'm your brother, you faggot!” “And how can I be sure of that?” Melvin remarks suspiciously, crouching behind his missile launcher like some kind of guerrilla solider. “I see no proof to verify your claim of brotherhood.” “What?! I look exactly like you, dickhead!” “How very convenient! But as long you're going after my 24/7 title, you ain't kin.” Discarding the last of his brotherly love, Melvin aims his ball shooter at a ranting and raving Marvin and cruelly fires away. The first shot impacts gruesomely into Marv's testicles, and his distressed howls crackle through the Californian skies. Showing little remorse, Melvin unleashes another volley, this time blasting his poor brother in the middle of the forehead, knocking the sense out of the twenty year old. Marvin timbers sideways, while his vibrant brown eyes dives into the back of his head. Melvin's blackened soul can generate little sympathy for his wounded sibling, and he simply guffaws at the misfortune's he's caused. TAYLOR Kris, Melvin really wants that 24/7 title. KRISTA He wants your heart. He wants to eat your children. Praise be to Allah! Hell Mel's moment of glory evaporates when he spots a suspicious figure atop the courtside umpire's chair, striking a “Christ in Rio” pose. Unwilling to bear this creature's flamboyant foolishness, Melvin demands that he come down and face him like a man before he (Melvin) decides to get into that West Coast Gangster shit. TAYLOR Who's up there, Kris? KRISTA It could be my tennis coach Lise. She's french! TAYLOR (snickering) I bet you really like servicing her....hehheheh... grass court, if you know what I mean. I bet you..heehhehe..would like to get that French [i]open[/i]. Heheheheh! KRISTA Okay, time for you to die. While Krista proceeds to strangle the Rooster for his off color comments, the camera pans out to expose the mysterious intruder, revealing him to be none other then ...... [IMG=http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y39/Portfree/kingsoul.jpg] The soul stealing King launches himself off the ten foot chair with a MEATNORMOUS diving clothesline! His forearm slashes through Melvin's finely sculpted chest, driving the Boi to the ground! The overwhelmed Nerdly tumbles backwards, before agilely springing to his feet. Refusing to be defeated by this meddlesome corporate pitchman, Melvin hastily scrambles to his trusty tennis ball machine. But before he can unload a flurry of projectiles at his foe, The BK King leaps into the sky, clears the near five foot machine, and slams an EGGNORMOUS dropkick into Melvin's cute face! Moaning in agony, Hell Mel dives backwards, and wonders what he's done to deserve being humiliated by a fast food mascot that ceased being popular and entertaining four months ago. KRISTA I can't believe I've whored myself out to crass consumerism and blatant attempts to manipulate the viewer's mind with disgusting product placement. I'm so ashamed of myself. I have a headache. TAYLOR Here, Krista. Try these. (Terry puts two Nuprin pills into Krista's hand.) KRISTA Nuprin. Little. Yellow. Different. Better. I mean, it's just a shame that my house has been sold out to fat cat marketing gimmicks from Madison Avenue. It's all about bowing to the almighty corporate dollar, and that's just really sad. It's like advertising his taken it's grip on all that we hold sacred, and I don't want any part of it. TAYLOR Krista, I'm kind of hungry. KRISTA (handing Terry a hamburger) Here, have this Junior Cheeseburger Deluxe from Wendys. Do what tastes right. Oh man, I'm stealing comedy routines from [i]Wayne's World[/i]. The end of my gainful employment is near. Back on the court, The King is doing a celebratory cabbage patch dance above his vanquished adversary. However his busting of the proverbial move is cut short when a recovered Biff Atlas drives a forearm into the back his regal robe. The King reacts not with hurt or shock, but with incredulity, and he demands to know the identity of the fool who has interrupted his getting jiggy with it. He turns around for the answer, only to have his vision flooded with Biff's incoming fist! But the King responds with supernatural speed and swiftly blocks Biff's punch with his forearm. Atlas recoils, his own forearm vibrating from the tremendous impact. The King points a menacing finger at him, informing Atlas that his mortal soul will pay the price for his grave misdeeds. [IMG=http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y39/Portfree/thecreepyburgerking.jpg] A now sobbing Biff passionately implores the royal pitchman to spare his meager life. But his pathetic whining falls on the King's deaf ears. And the bearded mascot lays down his own brand of charbroiled justice by sticking a CHEESENORMOUS fist into Biff's gut. The [i]whopper[/i] (lol!) of a boot doubles Biffy over and leaves him weeping like a baby deprived of his pacifier. Once again Biff puts forward a desperate plea for mercy, offering a variety of sexual favors in exchange for a guarantee of safety. But The King answers these calls for leniency with a harsh roundhouse kick to the knee. Biff cries out in despair, and reaches down to attend to his knee. But this position makes him a sitting duck and The King is quick to exploit Biff's vulnerability, surging forward and pasting him with a big boot! A floored Atlas immediately curls into a fetal position, and jams his thumb into his mouth while he prays for his mommy to come rescue him from this perpetually grinning psychopath. KRISTA (no longer paying attention to the stupidity in her backyard) Hmmmm. I hope no one goes into the living room, I think there are mutant rats living in there now! I swear one of them asked me if I knew the lyrics to [i]Subterranean Homesick Blues[/i]. The King has nary a second to celebrate his crushing of the OAOAST's worst wrestler due to the fact that a recovered Marvin Nerdly is swinging a [i]tennis racket[/i] at his crown! The King successfully manages to duck just in time, leaving the racket to whoosh harmlessly above him. Unfortunately for The King the momentum of his avoidance carries him around 180 degrees into the waiting arms of [i]Melvin[/i] Nerdly. Before The King can attempt to mount a suitable defense, Melvin pulverizes him with a [b]Mel's Shocker[/b]! The King's body crunches hard against the pavement, eighty-sixing the c-list celeb's brief foray into the world of pro wrestling. TAYLOR The king has been dethroned. Thankful for the assistance and ready to let bygones be bygones, Marvin extends his hand to Mel and says, “Brothers?” Without hesitation, Melvin embraces Marv's hand and responds with a rousing proclamation of “Brothers!” Unfortunately the heart warming display is short lived, thanks to Melvin pulling a confused Marvin towards him, grabbing onto his waist and destroying him with the [b]Mel's Shocker[/b]! Marvin responds with tortured groans that simply elicit a round of shameful giggles from Melvin. “Sorry, bro. But, that's my belt out front.” He remarks, dusting off his jeans and surveying the considerable carnage. Melvin leaves the broken husks of Biff, Marvin, and The King in his wake, as he scampers towards the mansion, assuming a gargantuan lead over the rest of the field. TAYLOR My, Krista, you have a very lovely garden. So many beautiful flowers and shrubbery. KRISTA Yes, but I keep my most precious plants inside. Out of the sight of roaming police helicopters.... Meanwhile at poolside, Leon is attending to his drenched girlfriend, who's shivering like a soaking wet puppy. Although he feels some sort of chivalrous urge to stay and assure her that everything will be okay, he can't help but fret over the fact that those wrestlers without girlfriends to weigh them down are closing in on his 24/7 title. With hints of impatience in his voice, he desperately tries to convince Ali that it would be wise for them to restart their aborted chase for the championship. However Alix, cocooned in a Mickey Mouse towel, seems positively spooked by the whole lawn mower incident and is steadfast in her refusal to budge. Unfortunately the decision to leave the poolside area is made for her, as former 24/7 champion [b]Mackenzie DeCenzo[/b] comes from out of no where, to spear her out of Leon's arm and knock her into the pool! SPLASH! The women hit the crystal clear water with all the grace of a boulder dropped from a seventeen story building. The fresher, more spirited Mackenzie, pops up first, and promptly dedicates herself to the despicable task of trying to [i]drown[/i] Alix. Spewing vulgarities like an utter madwoman, Mackie firmly presses her hand onto Alix's head, and submerges her entire body underneath the sparkling ocean. KRISTA If I had known we were going to see a T&A catfight in the pool, I would filled it with creamed corn and charged the neighborhood kids admission. TAYLOR Creamed corn? Not mud? KRISTA Do you have any idea how hard and how time consuming it is to clean mud stains off the surface of an Olympic sized swimming pool? And where am I supposed to get that much mud? Huh? TERRY Where would you get that much creamed corn? KRISTA Oh I have my ways... While Taylor ponders Krista's cryptic comments, Leon encounters a rather troubling decision. Either he can do the honorable thing and assist Alix but hurt his chances of reclaiming the 24/7 title, or he can leave Alix to fend for herself and selfishly resume his quest for the gold. Choices, choices, choices. Choices that he'll never get a chance to make, due to the fact that Flex Phillips smashes a sculpture of the Hindu elephant god Ganesh over his head! The OAOAST's number one babyface sinks to the tile flooring, and bellows in anguish, unable to cope with the massive amount of pain that's rushing through his skull. “Hello, Mister Rodez.” Flex begins, crushing the remnants of the statue with his boot. “I believe you and I have some unfinished business.” TAYLOR Krista, your statue! KRISTA No big deal, I stole it from Carmen Electra anyway. She stole Dave Navarro out from under my nose, I steal her mythical deity. Not an equal trade off, but at least the statue doesn't bear the shame of having been in a band with Perry Farrell. With shards of the statue resting in his finely gelled hair, Leon slowly rises, preparing to trade blows with the nutrition guru. However, Flex, now holding a wooden chair, has no intentions of participating in a simple slugfest. No, he wants to eliminate Le-Ro as quickly and as painfully as possible. Thus he throws his directly towards Leon's face. Fortunately, Rodez ducks beneath the swipe and avoids near decapitation. His breath comes in heavy and ragged spurts, as he watches the projectile sink into the shallow end of the pool. A second chair is thrown by Flex, and meets the same unproductive results as the first, except this time the chair collides with a tall oriental vase inside the cabana, exploding the antique item into fragments. TAYLOR Krista, your chairs! KRISTA Stolen from the lady across the street who seems morally opposed to letting her golden retriever do it's “business” any where that's not my front lawn. Most people wake up to a steaming pot of coffee. I wake up to a steaming piles of fly infested dog shit. Speaking of dog shit, it's Terry Taylor, everyone! Suddenly waves of fists dance across Phillips' face, thanks to Grand Rapids' favorite son. Flex swats at the incoming punches, trying to steer them clear with his meaty hands, but he's unsuccessful in this endeavor. Then his face is abruptly yanked forward and impacted perfectly with Leon's forearm! Phillip's thick neck snaps back and forth, over and over again, as he's mercilessly pounded by the handsome superstar. Ever the charismatic showman, Leon decides to get a little flashy, and winds up for a windmill punch. But the gestural nature of that attack affords Flex enough time to mount a counterattack. His two arms coil around Rodez' waist, ready to strike with a deadly belly to belly suplex. But Leon prevents the move from materializing by repeatedly whipping his head into Flex's face, drawing obscene amounts of blood from the brawler's pierced nostrils. Quite the pig headed one, a crimson masked Flex, refuses to capitulate on the belly to belly attempt and tries the hold one more time. But Leon's unending parade of heabutts makes the move roundly impossible, forcing Phillips to move onto Plan B. What's Plan B, Patty? Patty, will tell you what Plan B is, if you'd just sit down and be patient, you ass licking whores. Plan B consists of Flex using Leon's body as a battering ram, charging forward, and slamming the man into a pillar on the side of the cabana! The whole structure vibrates upon impact, providing a steady bass line to Leon's tortured screams. TAYLOR Oh! A solid attack by Phillips. KRISTA As solid as the white man's stranglehold on the senate. Despite his race, it's fairly obvious that Flex Phillips is a dupe of the white man's conspiracy to suppress the masses on behalf of the multinational fascist dictatorship. TAYLOR Agreed one hundred percent. Power to the people, my snow bunny sister. KRISTA You? You're nothing but the steel toe of the boot of the capitalist Nazi regime! Leon grimaces in profound pain, but it appears the worst is yet to come for the ex X-division champion. Flex latches onto his throat, and heaves him a good eight feet into the air. A screaming Leon clears the hut's railing, and suffers a brutal landing face first onto the cabana's dark wooden floor. Le-Ro is momentarily dazed by the jarring impact, and for a troubling moment he has extreme difficulty in remembering just who he is, what he's doing here, and why a six foot seven monster is threatening to knock him into Pacific Ocean. “Are you okay, Lee-Lee?” A genuinely concerned Alix shouts in the distance, ignoring the fact that Mackie is still trying to drown her to death. “Oh, I'm just peachy keen, darling!” Leon replies, pouring on the sarcasm. Surveying the scene, Flex Phillips smirks as the splashing and spluttering behind him continues. This is his chance. Leaving Leon behind to continue to collect his thought, Flex jogs off into the distance as he heads towards Krista's house. The house itself, naturally, seeing as he's already in her backyard. TAYLOR So it's Hell Mel and Flex Phillips soaring into early leads, with The Marv and Biff still out on the tennis court recovering, Leon hurting on the cabana and Alix trying to fight off Mackenzie in the pool. KRISTA At least someone's paying attention. TAYLOR Hey, it's my job. KRISTA Yeah but yours pays far less than mine, let's keep that in mind. Don't be getting too big for your britches, bitches, just because you've got an attention span to speak of. We now cut away from two women thrasing around in a pool and to Hell Mel, for some inane reason. Now in the dining room, Melvin seems confused, probably wondering what wrong turn he took to end up in the middle of a well-furnished jungle. Mel gets his bearings quickly though, probably wishing he had a map to find his way around this ridiculously large dwelling. Shuffling around the antique dining room table Mel gets to the door and prepares to explore some more of the less than humble abode, before five words halt his progress. "Hey, pissflaps, behind ya!" Melvin stops in confusion, wondering who's behind him and why they're using such a childish insult. The answers to those trying questions are Flex Phillips and because he's Flex Phillips. His distraction has worked well enough however, as Flex dares Melvin on and the Sk8ter Boi obliges him, sliding across the table like Daisy Duke more or may not have done (before my time) and coming at Flex with forearms. TAYLOR I'm impressed that Flex caught up to Mel so quick, it looked like Melvin was away and in the clear for a moment. KRISTA You haven't seen my state of the art, top of the range, rip-off merchant priced security system, have you? I'm impressed that Mel was smart enough to work out how to get through so quickly. It's like getting into the vault of Lloyd's of London sneaking into my house. Many a drunken night I've spent kicking my door in a futile attempt to prise it open. Like a crazed man, Mel slams his forearm across the dome of Flex Phillips, rocking him backwards, up against the sink. Still Mel is throwing those bones, seemingly unstoppable...until Flex reaches back and cocks his elbow, snapping one of the taps and causing a jet of ice cold water to shoot from the faucet. Mel is caught in the eye by the makeshift water feature and recoils, allowing Flex an opportunity to shoot forward with a firm knee to the gut. Luckily for Mel, Krista's dining room isn't well stocked, so there aren't any sharp, mutilating weapons for Flex to utilise. But Flex has his hands to use as weapons and he nails Mel with a hard right hand. Mel stumbles backwards and Flex quickly backtracks, opening up the door leading to the backyard. Grabbing Mel by the hair and seat of his pants and with the door wide open, Flex makes like Uncle Phil and hurls Mel right out the door!! "And STAY OUT!" cries Flex authoratively, little knowing that as soon as Mel comes to a plummeting fall on the patio, Leon Rodez is waiting as he charges through the door and clotheslines Phillips down! "Honey, I'm HO-OME!" cheers Leon as he steps over Flex's motionless body. KRISTA Gee, that was original. I knew I should have booby trapped that door to abruptly shut the moment this douche stepping through it. I'll never learn. Sigh! TAYLOR Heh, 'booby'. Declining the opportunity to advance through the house, Leon instead sets about bringing Flex to his feet. The mighty nutrition guru shoves Leon away and sends him up against the beech wood table, but Leon stops himself and as Flex runs in, Leon pushes up onto the balls of his hands and locks on a headscissors. Flex tries to fight it, but Leon makes Flex chow down on his thights (steady now) before swinging around and sending Phillips sprawling across the tiled floor with a hurricanrana! KRISTA So, anyway, what colour carpet do you think I should have in the living room once it gets all torn up and stuff? I'm thinking black, to cover the stains Maya and her friends cause and also to match my heart. TAYLOR I'm not really much of an interior designer, sorry. KRISTA You're not really much of a human being, but that hasn't stopped you from existing, has it? Pulling himself up, Leon favours his hip slightly but realises he has a belt to win. Unfortunately, footsteps from outside the back door halt him and fearing the worst, Leon turns around...relieved to see a besheveled Alix Maria Spezia in the doorway. "Honey, I'm HO-O..." "What happened to Mackenzie?" "Who?" "Nevermind. So, let's go find that belt, huh?" smiles Leon, not altogether too convincingly and probably plotting on a way to lose Alix before reaching the belt. But all the same, Alix and Leon join hands and walk happily off out of the dining room, leaving Flex to lick his wounds. KRISTA NO! DON'T TRUST HIM ALIX, WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU, REPEATEDLY AND ANGRILY! TAYLOR She can't hear you, Krista. KRISTA I know, but it's not her fault. She gets distracted very easily. TAYLOR No, I mean...oh, nevermind. Leaving the kitchen, Leon and Alix emerge in a hallway, but suddenly The Sliky Smooth One brings them to a stop. "Oh man, I need a whizz." groans Leon. "Must be all that water and your erect nipples." "I've been told I have that effect on people." Alix giggles in reply. "So, where's the bathroom at?" Alix points off to her right, where luckily there happens to be a downstairs bathroom. Breathing a sigh of relief, Leon heads in that direction...curiously, bringing Alix with him. I guess they're one of the those couples who do everything together, huh? Anyway, Leon and Alix abandon the hunt for the 24/7 Title briefly and walk down the long hallway in search of the first floor bathroom. Lucky that Alix knows her way around Krista's house well, otherwise Leon could be in bladder trouble. As it is, he reaches the bathroom safely and opens the door to reveal a typically lavish room. The taps and other appliances, apart from being crystal clean are also quite clearly expensive. A built in home entertainment system adorns one wall, just incase anyone's in it for the long haul. And of course, the main focal point, a large jacuzzi. Usually, however, it isn't filled with barbecue sauce. Rodez and Spezia stop, glance at each other in disbelief, then look back at [b][COLOR=green]Jivin' JR[/COLOR][/b] and three scantily clad ladies, all bathing within JR's spicy juice. "Oh good God." "RUN FOR THE GOLD! RUN FOR THE GOLD! Leon Rodez, Alix Maria Spezia! Wanna join the party? You wanna get covered in my sauce? BITCHES BE DIPPIN' BAH GAWD! RUN FOR THE GOLD! GOOD GAWD ALMIGHTY, RUN FOR THE GOLD! It's hawt in here, bah gawd!" "Oh, good God." J.R's bitches laugh, as the barbecue sauce begins to bubble. "Did you turn the bubbles on, Jimmy?" "Nope." "Oh, good GOD." KRISTA I couldn't agree more. It's gonna take me forever to get those stains out of my beloved jacuzzi. Backing slowly away, Leon apparantly not longer feels the need to urinate as he leads Alix to the relative normality of the hallway. Leon wisely closes the door after him and after a quick shudder, he looks to erase that hideous vision from his memory. And he just about manages to clear his mind in time to see a walking wounded, limping Biff Atlas pass the hallway in search of the front door! Panicking, Leon jogs after Biff, Alix following on as thankfully we're back to the match at hand. TAYLOR You know, I always wondered what happened to Jivin' JR. KRISTA So YOU'RE the one! Figures. You fringe characters need to stick together I guess. Biff has little to no idea that he's being followed and as he makes his way through the maze of corridors and sub-corridors, the hapless haircare expert is already humming happily to himself. However, his lack of attention means he subsequently takes a wrong turning and strangely ends up in Krista's living room. Biff seems confused and appalled in one fair swoop, also a keen expert in hygiene. Picking up a copy of GQ Magazine from July 2003, Biff rests on what is presumably a sofa, moving an empty pizza box aside and sitting himself down for a brief rest. However, as soon as he sits down, he becomes a sitting target for Leon Rodez. Or rather, Alix Maria Spezia, Leon positioning himself with his back to Biff and launching Alix airborne for a bodysplash on Biff! KRISTA Oh, I'm so ashamed right now. I'm not a slob, really. God, I hope Entertainment Today aren't watching, not that they would. Before Maya came along, this room was my pride and joy. It was clean. It was neat. There were no creatures that I had to log onto the internet to identify crawling around the refuse. Did I ever tell you I hate Ned Blanchard? TAYLOR About four times on the plane ride over, twice before we came on air. KRISTA If something's not worth saying seven times, it's not worth saying at all. By the way Terry, you suck you suck you suck you suck you suck you suck you suck. TAYLOR Charming. Rolling around the filth, Alix and Biff scrap in what vaguely resembles a catfight. Leon is ready to step in and help his girl, but suddenly Flex Phillips has entered the room and wipes out Leon with a Northern Lariat! Flex flexs...only to get wiped out with a similarly unexpected strike, Marvin Nerdly sprinting into the room and dropkicking Flex in the spine, sending him sprawling across the sofa. If Flex wanted a mouthful of discarded pizza cheese and spilt Cherry 7UP, he's in luck. Otherwise, too bad. "Alright bitches, let's RAWK!" The Marv is now in the ascendancy, quite literally as he scales the back of the sofa. Alix, Biff, Flex and Leon all collect themselves and pull each other to their feet, scrapping away meekly as Marv climbs in front of them. The sofa is in danger of tipping...so it's lucky that Hell Mel has decided to make this his time for a grandious entrance, diving on the trash covered sofa to hold it in place and allow Marvin to soar off, wiping out the other four combatants in the 'match' with a soaring crossbody! The fivesome end up in the heap of discarded toys and other remnants that cover Krista's carpet, leaving Hell Mel the only one standing. Marv is quickly getting to his feet however, so Mel clears a space and hops up onto the sofa. Stooping low, Mel jumps up and looks to gain a springboard off the sofa's seat. A tactic which worked much better when he was a 7 year old weakling. A a 20 year old stud, however, he only ends up causing a worrying noise as his foot crashes through the sofa and breaks the springs beneath him. Mel's leg is trapped in the sofa now and all the fidgeting in the world isn't going to free him from it's evil velour claws. KRISTA (annotating) New...sofa. Alright, that's awesome! Now, somebody break the TV, I could do with an expensive upgrade! I'm thinking 36 inches. And if you even THINK of making a joke about penis size Terry Taylor, I swear I'll get you thrown out of here. Melvin continues to struggle to free himself as The Marv emerges from the mess, clutching a copy of Burnout 360 in his hand and bouncing the plastic case off of his brother's head. A disgruntled 'OW!' is all he gets as reward however, Marvin charges. Unfortunately for him though, Mel ducks his head and manages to backdrop Marv over, causing him to be bent spine-first over the back of the sofa and then sprawl face-first into the finely decorated wall behind! TAYLOR Oh, MAN! That could be both of the Boiz out of the running after that! KRISTA Running? For what? Oh shit, yeah, this is a match. I almost forgot, what with nobody going after the belt and everyone preferring to instead wreck shit up in my living room to draw this debacle out. As Marv slumps up against the wall, his face mushed against the tasteful wallpaper, the duos of NRG and LeLix (cute name, huh?) begin to get back up. Alix doesn't last long as Flex almost decapitates her with a clothesline, while Biff swings out with a clothesline of his own on Leon, which misses and allows The Silky Smooth One to jab Biff with a Standing Ass Punch, causing Biff to stumble forward, wiping out a speaker system which topples on top of him for good measure! "This shit is bananas!" Leon then screams, retrieving a copy of one Gwen Stefani's debut solo album and skimming it like a frisbee towards Flex Phillips' head. Flex adeptly ducks however, causing the flimsy CD case to shatter into a family portait hung on the wall behind him, an 'Isadora Duncan' family portait that has become a makeshift dartboard where Ned Blanchard's sketched image stands. Flex stays stooped as he charges forward, looking to tackle Rodez backwards towards the backyard and the windows in it's path, but luckily Rodez manages to sidestep Phillips. Skidding to a halt before he goes hurtling through the glass, Flex thanks his lucky stars and the big man upstairs (although, ironically, there hasn't been a big man upstairs in this particular house for some time) and turns around in search of Rodez. Rodez is waiting on him though and he stabs Flex in the head with an Emmy statuette, ripping the flesh on Flex's forehead open in the process. KRISTA No, not my Emmy! TAYLOR Since when did you win an Emmy? KRISTA When I put in the highest bid for it on e-Bay, Sherlock! Scratch off the part of the nameplate that says "Ted Danson" and it's as good as mine. Who are you to doubt me? As Flex collapses with his hands pressed to his stinging forehead, Hell Mel has suddenly freed his leg from the sofa and celebrates his newfound freedom by scuttling on out of the living room, in search of 24/7 gold. Rodez spots Mel's getaway and tosses the Emmy haphazardly aside before chasing after Mel, the other four combatants remaining in various states of consciousness in the living room. Mel is clearly in the lead, running through the corridors with Leon hot on his heels. Both men's running begins to slow though, as Melvin is clearly lost. TAYLOR Mel and Leon, getting closer to the gold...or, at least, I think they are. Are they? KRISTA How should I know? TAYLOR Well it is your house. KRISTA But I haven't been paying attention, doofus. Keep up. "Do you even know where you're going!?!" shouts Rodez off into the distance, as Mel turns another corner, confronted by a home cinema. And by home cinema, I'm not talking a medium sized T.V and some fancy surround sound speakers, I'm talking a cinema screen and 20 fold-down cinema seats. "I guess not!" "Me neither. Maybe we should stop running and check the map then, eh?" "Map!?!" Mel screeches to a halt and goes into reverse, jogging backwards to where Leon now stands. "You were given a map?" "Well...not as such." *SMACK!* Down goes Melvin, felled by a Superkick and thwarted by his feeble mind! Looking a little guilty, Leon consoles himself in the fact that Mel would have done the same had the situation been different and prepares to go belt hunting again. Only, as he turns back around, he's confronted by the current Champion, Alix Maria Spezia, again arriving just in time to bring her boyfriend to a halt. "Hey Lee-Lee, I think we're getting closer, we just need to go down this hallway and... *SHRIIIIIIEEEEEEK!* Oh my God, what did you do to MEL!?!" Leon seems confused by Alix's sudden concern for the Sk8ter Boi, not to mention even more guilty than before. "He...he slipped. On...something." "Oh, that's okay then. So, we gonna get that belt or what?" Shrugging, Leon drops to one knees and drops into some imaginary starters blocks, perfectly willing to race his girlfriend to the belt. Alix takes her time in reading what's going on as she is prone to do, but eventually she too drops onto her marks, gets set and... ...Biff Atlas clatters through the OAOAST's most beloved couple with clotheslines! KRISTA That's what happens when you trust a man...another man clotheslines you in the back. Exactly what I've been telling my friends at my Women's Liberation meetings for years. Biff comes to a stop and once he's sure Alix and Leon are down, he stumbles on down the hallway and as Krista's obscenely expensive water fountain feature comes into view, he just KNOWS that he's close. He will get no closer for the moment though, as The Marv has recovered and has hold of Biff's leg, desperately halting his progress. Biff tries to shake Marvin up but fails to do so, so instead he slams his arm across the Boi's back and hauls him to his feet. Winding up, a cocky Biff tries to take Marv's head off...but Marv's head ducks, as well as the rest of his upper body, allowing Marvin to backdrop Biff overhead... *SPLASH!* ...and into the base of the water fountain with a less than comfortable landing! "AH! My coccyx!" weeps Biff. TAYLOR These six contestants are really putting themselves through it here, all in search of the 24/7 Championship. And this match has been every bit as gruelling as Run For The Gold 1 was! KRISTA At least this one didn't have David Hasselhoff involved. For no reason at all, David Hasselhoff walks by eating a baloney sandwich, as Flex Phillips finds his way into the hallway in time to club The Marv from behind, dropping him to his knees. Flex grabs Marv's finely groomed hair and pulls him straight back up though, looking to deal with Marvin once and for all as he aims to torpedo him through one of K.I.D's wall length aquariums! Up on the shoulder however, Marv begins to fight and his frantic elbows eventually help him to squirm from Flex's grip and land safely on his feet. Placing his hands on Flex's shoulders, Marvin then goes up and over with a leapfrog and backs himself up against the glass fish tank. "C'mon Mr Universe, let's see what you've got!" Flex is incensed to be called out by a Sk8ter Boi and charges with a Yakuza Kick, aiming it at Marv's skull. Marv weaves clear of the impact however, Flex's leg unable to do the same... *CRAAAAAASSSSSHHHH!!* ...AND IT SMASHES THROUGH THE GLASS, SENDING WATER AND FISHES FLOODING FORTH FROM WITHIN!! KRISTA Now that's an insurance claim! Somewhere, Aquaman is weeping...for many reasons, the destruction of his artful handiwork tonight probably low on his list of concerns. As the hallway rapidly begins to flood, Marv charges at Flex. Unfortunately his footwear doesn't provide much grip on the slippery surface beneath his feet and he loses his footing, long enough for Flex to regain his bearings and rock Marvin with a headbutt! Marv falls to his knees, soaking his fashionable jeans in the process. That proves the least of his worries however, as Flex reaches down beside his feet and grabs a flailing bright blue and yellow fish from the water, pulling Marv's head back and attempting to cram the creature down The Boi's throat!! TAYLOR UGH! Flex is trying forcefeed Marv that live fish! KRISTA What's the big deal, narrator? It's just like sushi. Unprocessed, scale covered, boney sushi. Marv declines this free meal with a swift backhand to the face of Flex, causing the fish to fall back to the safety of the water that floods the floor. Yes, I didn't kill it. Don't sue, hippy. Flex reels away holding his face as The Marv now has the front door in his sights and knows he's close. So with one last attempt to dry off his pants, Marv sprints forward and tries to dodge past Flex. Nothing doing though, as Flex catches him at the side and drives him down with a soggy STO! "Looks like Jadakiss is gonna get some more royalties, because THE CHAMP IS...HERE!" Flex confidently cries as he rises to his feet, little realising that Alix Maria Spezia has snuck into the lead! KRISTA Yes! C'mon Ali, if you get close enough to the finish line I can release the dogs on the other idiots! I've been teasing them especially! Singing off key...poking them with sticks...showing them a The Best Of The Red Rooster compilation DVD. TAYLOR Ouch. KRISTA I know. Worst twelve minutes of my life. Alix crawls through the front doors and finds herself in the Los Angeles open once more, breathing in the SoCal air gleefully as the finish line is mere feet away. A good few feet, but feet nonetheless. Alix clambers up to her feet and with the final stretch in sight, she turns around to check no-one is tailing her...which is an unwise move, as it allows Flex Phillips to catch up and throw a right hand that drops Alix down to one knee. "Hey, Flex, [i]ahomosayswhat[/i]!" "What?" "Heh...he said what." Turning around, Flex suddenly finds himself rocked by a succession of right hands by The New-Age Love Machine, Leon Rodez! Rodez puts Flex on the backfoot and while Alix recovers beside this fight, Rodez stops and attempts another Superkick. Unlike Marv before him however, Flex is able to duck and catch Rodez as he spins around, booting him in the gut and setting up for a Powerbomb! TAYLOR Alix is up and the title is so, so close! KRISTA And Rodez is gonna get crushed too! This is too perfect! Alix now seems to have a clear route to the belt and Krista is up on her feet beside the finish line, beckoning Alix to come towards her. However, Alix's vision isn't locked solely on the belt. Turning away, Alix sprints across the front lawn and leaps over her boyfriend's back, snaring Flex by the head and twisting him around with a hurricanrana!! Flex and Alix clatter onto the firm lawn with a thud and neither is getting up, leaving Leon standing. And it doesn't take a genius to figure out what he's going to do next. Jogging clear, Rodez smiles from ear to ear, as he dives across the finish line, snapping it in two and securing himself the victory! Scrambling up to his feet, Rodez then collects the belt and avoids Krista's icy glare as he jogs off into the distance, already celebrating. TAYLOR Leon did it! Leon grabbed the belt! Somebody ring the bell! Krista quickly grabs up the bell and places it on Taylor's head. *DINGDINGDING!* TAYLOR OUCH! MAYA AndthewinnerisTheDouche! The Douch...erm, Leon Rodez continues to jog off into the distance, not stopping to look back as he reaches the road leading away from the house, jumping into a handily placed cab and speeding away and out of sight. Back at the house, Biff Atlas and The Sk8ter Boiz can only watch on despairingly as Rodez is now long gone and also, the new 24/7 Champion. Also watching on is Alix Maria Spezia, hanging her head at the scathing look Krista is giving her. TAYLOR Man, what an ending. It looked like Alix was seconds away from retaining her title, but she sacrificed herself to save her boyfriend...and in the end, her boyfriend took the belt. KRISTA Sacrifice Shmacrifice! Alix finally came to the realization I've been trying to force on her for weeks. Leon didn't care about her, all he cares about is the belt. You saw it right there. Alix lands on her ass and Leon just runs into the night...well, the evening anyway. TAYLOR You really think Leon is that selfish? KRISTA Don't know, don't care. I'm out of here Terry. You ain't gon' see me for dust. I've got some re-decorating to do, so take yourself off my property and take the rest of this circus with you. Peach out. Krista throws down her microphone and leaves the broadcast table to console Alix, as we swoop back to Indy!

I hate the 'curtain jerking' term that gets thrown around when somebody good is on first on a PPV/Raw, because it's never the first match with dark and/or Heat matches, but I can excuse it here. For me, Kurt Angle vs. Rey Mysterio from Summerslam '02 is everything a PPV opener should be. Exciting, fast paced and it got the crowd fired up ready for the rest of the show. Great little match. Honourable mentions: Rockers vs. Orient Express, Royal Rumble '91; Too Cool and Rikishi vs. Edge, Christian and Kurt Angle, Judgement Day 2000

So, ECW is just going to be Velocity with a different name? Is it wrong of me to laugh right now? "WWECW" Sorry, but there's profit to be had.

I'd be for that.

Funtime U.S.A, Sheepshead Bay, N.Y Not the usual place you'd expect a limousine to pull up in front of. This is the OAOAST though. Stepping out of the limo, Leon Rodez is casually dressed but his demeanour is far from casual. Infact, he looks noticeably scatty as he looks up, around, down, unable to properly focus himself as he seems to be in the middle of some sort of moral dillema. Scratching his head, Rodez begins to pace around the front of the building. Behind him, the doors to Funtime open and Charles Robinson sneaks outside, making sure not to be seen, despite the black and white striped referee's shirt that no-one in the wide world would be wearing right now, if not for an alterior reason. RODEZ Glad you could make it. ROBINSON It's like it says on my calling card, "I'll do anything for 40 bucks". So, are you sure about this? RODEZ Not really. But, look, just go with it okay? I think we passed a Dairy Queen on the way, so dinner's on me so long as you don't screw up. I have coupons. This camera guy's gonna have to buy his own though, I'm afraid. Now, let's go over the story one more time so we're clear... ROBINSON Okay. I'm here with my nephew and if you come in fancy dress you get in for half price which is why I'm wearing my referee's shirt. RODEZ And the cameraman? ROBINSON ...uhm...he's my nephew? RODEZ Good enough. ALI...C'MON OUT, WE'RE HERE! Stepping out of the limousine, a blindfolded Alix Maria Spezia stumbles forward a few steps and ends up in Leon's arms. Alix giggles a typically girlish giggle, excited no doubt about her promised surprise, and Leon returns the laugh...albeit it a nervous, guilty laugh. Lil' Naitch looks pensive too, knowing that if Alix suspects anything, he's likely in the frame for some nad-cracking. ALIX Oh, you'd think I'd be used to this thing by now. RODEZ Uhm, yeah. Let's discuss that later Ali. So, we're here and stuff so, take off the blindfold. Giggling gleefully once more, Alix reaches behind her head and hurriedly tugs at the blindfold's tie. Of course, she could just lift it off, but that wouldn't be as dramatic. Rodez looks nervous as Ms. Spezia's beaming brown eyes re-adjust to natural light, blinking away the momentary dis-orientation before her eyes lock on her big surprise. ALIX Oh...my...God...CHARLES ROBINSON! What are you doing here!?! ROBINSON Uh, wha? I'm, uh, I'm...oh God, I'm drawing a...a...wait, what's that thing you draw when you draw a...thing. Uhm, think Charles, think...I'm here...uhm... OH, I remember! I'm wearing my nephew's shirt because it was half price! ALIX Aw, that's sweet. What's that big building thing behind you, sweetie? (glances past Charles) IT'S A BUILDING! WOW! Is this my surprise? Is this what you bought me, you bought me a building? A whole entire building? Funtime U.S.A? This is what we flew halfway around the world, drove for five hours and slept in 3 motels for? Oh my god, this is the greatest thing ever! Like, greater than Coke with Lime. [i]You put the Lime in the Coke you nut ya drink it all up[/i]. Oh, Leon, this is great! Not only do I love fun, but I also love the U.S.A! Time I can give or take, but the rest is just super! This is great! Can't you tell I'm happy? Am I not happy enough? Show me affection, please, I have issues! Why are you looking so nervous baby? Are you out of quarters already, because they probably have a quarter machine or something in there. RODEZ I'm fine. Just a little jetlagged. ALIX Well don't worry about that now because the four of us are going to have just SO much fun! OH, I almost forgot! Scampering back over to the fancy limousine, Alix routes around the backseat briefly before coming back out with her OAOAST 24/7 Championship draped over her shoulder. ALIX Can't go anywhere without this now, can I? C'mon guys, let's go and have a FUN TIME in the U.S.A! See what I did there, I took the words from the name and then I used them in a different way, which is so clever beca... Entering through the front doors, Alix's voice trails off, leaving a silent Leon outside with arms folded. ROBINSON On the plus side, I don't think she suspects anything. [i][b]*CUT TO:-*[/i][/b] ALIX ...so just like that I was able to make a new sentence, pretty clever huh? We are now inside Funtime U.S.A. Alix Maria Spezia has just walked through the door, her rambling voice continuing on downstairs while we are currently on the first floor/balcony type level of the building, overlooking the ground floor. Don't get confused though, as Charles, Leon and camera-man are still outside. The other camera-man is here on other duty. Hidden behind a humming pinball machine against the wall, former 24/7 Champion Mackenzie DeCenzo lies in wait with her muscle-bound, macho man tag team combination, Nutrition's Real Gurus keeping watch. Well, Flex is keeping watch. Biff is playing Virtua Tennis 3, currently getting his Henman handling ass whooped by Jim Courier. Not actually Jim Courier, we couldn't afford him, but the CPU version. The camera-man gives the signal to the trio that Alix has arrived, which brings a sinister smile to Mackie's rouge lips. MACKENZIE Ah, the imbecile has landed. Okay guys, this is it. Finally, after 7 long days, my chance at revenge. My chance to recapture the OAOAST 24/7 Championship, the pinnacle achievement of my career. This time, that little bleach strawberry blonde bimbo isn't gonna get away so easily, mark my words. And then I, Mackenzie DeCenzo the First, shall be proclaimed... *SLAM!* BIFF BULLSHIT! THAT WAS ON THE LINE! ON THE LINE! I SAW THE CHALK FLY UP, DAMNIT! MACKENZIE Hey, MacEnroe, quit goofing off and listen! And keep the noise down you idiot, she's dumb not deaf! Now listen, here's the plan. When she comes up those stairs I want you both to be ready and waiting to pounce on her like wild, ravenous beasts! It's what we master strategists call an 'ambush'. Oh and Flex, the key to an ambush is the element of surprise. Sneak attacks don't work if you go up to someone's face, reel off some long diatribe and then tip a table over before you do it. Surprise her. Try to blend into your surroundings. Flex looks down at Biff's hula skirt, curiously. FLEX In a kids amusement arcade? MACKENZIE Hide behind a machine or something. FLEX Won't we look...you know...'shifty'. MACKENZIE Two muscular men, one wearing a hula skirt, acting suspiscious in a kids amusement arcade? What could be wrong with that? Just try and look inconspicuous, Alix isn't that smart. Once you've ambushed her, you leave her to me and deal with Rodez. Got me? Glancing through the bars of the protective barrier at the end of the balcony, Mackie sees Alix beginning to skip merrily up the steps towards the trio and smiles again. MACKENZIE Places people, places. *clapclap* [i][b]*MEANWHILE:-*[/i][/b] Outside, Leon and Lil' Naitch are still outside the building. Outside. Hesitating, Leon moves towards the entrance but stops himself short with a shake of the head. RODEZ I can't do it. She'd never forgive me. ROBINSON Not to mention Krista tearing you a new peehole. That could interfere with your daily habituals quite a bit. RODEZ No kidding. (groans) Listen, Charles, if we can make this as quick and as painless as possible that'd be fantastic. ROBINSON That's exactly what my first girlfriend said to me. RODEZ ... ROBINSON But that was 15 years ago now. Rodez an eyebrow, PRL style. ROBINSON Okay, 15 months. So, you were saying? RODEZ This is going to be painful enough as it is, I really don't want Alix to get physically hurt. I mean, she's a chirpy girl and she'll get over any sort of mental hurt like a grazed knee or sitting through an episode of Hope and Faith. But I can't hurt her physically. So, when your time comes to shine, I don't want you across the building playing Skeeball. I want to be in and out of here as fast as possible, kapeesh? ROBINSON That exactly what I said to my first girlfriend. Except the kapeesh part. We...didn't really get along. RODEZ I guess not. Fixing his shirt and his hair, Rodez takes a last deep, sombre breath. RODEZ Let's do this. Finally Rodez now enters the building and prepares to do...whatever it is he's preparing to do. But as soon as he gets inside he realises flaw one in his plan. Alix has a mind of her own and has wandered off, in search of some fun...in the U.S.A. Rodez places his hands on his hips and scans the building. A few kids, not many, it's pretty early in the day. Couple of bored looking staff, who could blame them? Charles Robinson, that's a given. Biff Atlas, gorilla pressing a cute looking redhead over his head and threatening to toss her over the balcony. RODEZ Crap. [i][b]*ANOTHER CUT HERE:-*[/i][/b] ALIX HELP! HEEEEEEEEEELP! SAVE ME MARIO! MACKENZIE BIFF, PUT HER DOWN! I need both of her shoulders attached to her body to win the title, just give her to me. Nevermind that Biff Atlas might want to be the 24/7 Champion himself, Mackenzie is teh b055~! so the haircare connoisseur carelessly drops Alix and sends her crashing face-first to the hard floor beneath his feet! Alix is spared a 40 foot fall but still ends up in serious pain as her attempts to cushion her fall fails miserably. Rolling onto her back, Alix clutches at her face and if her eyes weren't covered, she'd be relived to see Biff retreating. She wouldn't be relieved to see Mackenzie advancing though, the vengeful former champion grabbing two handfuls of hair and dragging Alix across the abrasive flooring. ALIX AH! That hurts! EEK! MACKENZIE That's the point dimwit! Now shut up and stop squirming! ALIX Why are you doing this to me? OW! All I wanted was a fun time... OUCH! ...in the U.S.A... OOH! MACKENZIE You stole my title! ALIX You stole my boyfriend Kyle! Oh, wait, that was 8 Simple Rules, nevermind. YEEOUCHEE! Dragging Alix to a stop, Mackenzie lifts Beverly Hills' favourite prodigal daughter to her feet and with handfuls of hair intact she charges forward and slams the poor Champion's face into a South Park pinball machine, causing it to spew out some vile, lurid catchphrase that really isn't that funny. Kinda like the show. Yep, I said it. Luckily the glass doesn't shatter, but Alix isn't in a state to thank goodness for small mercies. Stumbling backwards, Alix falls back into Mackie's clutches, NRG's spiritual leader hurling her roughly to the floor. Mackenzie is distracted though, as across to her left, another fight has broken out. Looking to defend his girlfriend's honour, Leon Rodez has sprinted upstairs and is now struggling to fight off NRG. Biff and Flex club away at the back of The Silky Smooth One, trying to keep him at bay. However, Rodez is driven on by pride, by honour and mainly by guilt and he soon begins to fight back, landing jabs on each member of NRG in turn. Biff being Biff, Biff soon drops to his knees and begs for mercy, allowing Leon to take the attack to Flex Phillips. Scuffling away, Flex and Leon dissappear into the depths of the arcade, leaving a trailing Charles Robinson to stumble upon a pinfall attempt by Mackenzie on Alix... 1... But Alix kicks out quickly and wisely scrambles to get away. Mackenzie follows close behind and tries to grab at Miss Spezia's long auburn hair, only to get shrugged off repeatedly. So instead she settles for planting her high heeled shoe in Alix's tight BUTT and barging her forward, with a thump into the side of an arcade machine. A dazed Alix is feeling like a pinball in her own right now, stumbling around aimlessly in a duel attempt to keep her balance and get away. Hot on her heels, Mackenzie clubs Alix in the spine with a forearm. Weakly, Alix drops down to her knees, Mackenzie making her pay for her brief rest by striking her in the head with a buzzsaw kick! Down goes Alix as Mackie now looks to win the title again, rolling AMS over and draping across with a pin... 1... 2... Kickout! MACKENZIE Alright, you wanna drag this out, fine by me! It's not like I have to catch a flight to Australia or anything. Taking the hair again, Mackenzie drags the squealing Alix around like a disobedient dog and throws her away with destain. Looking around the arcade, vile schemes roll through Mackie's mind, eventually settling on a plan. The former Champion abandons the current Champion briefly and strides over to another one of the machines, ignoring the noise of the hardcore street race on screen. This one happens to be occupied, but Mackie doesn't care about that, taking the poor young teen by the collar and drags him away from the steering wheel in his hand. The boy tries to protest, so Mackie smacks him across the face with a stinging slap before taking Alix and forcibly sitting her down in the driver's seat. Ever the Green Cross Code observer, as she comes to her senses Alix quickly grabs the wheel in front of her and brings the screeching car under control, narrowly avoiding oncoming traffic in the process. ALIX Hey, this game's pretty cool. Like a long-lost Schumacher sibling, Alix gets into the spirit of the game and seems to be doing pretty darned well, crossing the finish line with roaring speed... ...until Mackenzie, drawing herself away from the bitchin' graphics, grabs Alix's head and SLAMS her face into the steering wheel! "PLEASE..ENTER..NAME!" Rolling groggily off the seat, blood trickles from the nose of the 24/7 Champion now. Mackenzie smirks at this development before clambering over the plastic seat and dropping across Alix, signalling for Robinson to count... 1... 2... NUH-UH! "PLEASE..ENTER..NAME!" Ignoring the plees of the machine, Mackenzie brings Alix back up and drags her off, looking to cause some more machine related mayhem. Robinson hurries off after them, narrowly avoiding being clattered into as Flex Phillips arrives on the scene, being hurled into the back of the seat shoulder first which causes the plastic to splinter slightly, no doubt worrying the OAOAST's accountants. "PLEASE..ENTER..NAME!" RODEZ Huh...oooh hooo, okay! "A" "S" "S" RODEZ Heh heh heh, never gets old. Rodez goes back to some stompage on Flex... ...but elsewhere, the more important matter of the 24/7 Championship hunt continues. Mackenzie has Alix well at hand now as she drills a knee into her midsection, then grabs the bracelet clad wrist of Miss Spezia and setting her for an irish whip. However, a quick 360 allows Alix to counter the whip and send Mackie forward, clattering spine-first into a Pacman console! Mackenzie slumps against the machine, as Alix regains her bearings and once sure her nose isn't broken she breaks into a...well, not a sprint. More a stuttering stride. ALIX WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA A clothesline crushes Mackenzie up against the machine once more and drops her to her knees in contorted pain. Not one to rest on her laurels, Alix follows up quickly with a hurried stomp that smushes Mackie's head up against the base of the machine. With DeCenzo now dealt with, Alix looks around in search of her boyfriend...and is shocked to see Flex Phillips with "Lee-Lee" over his shoulder, preparing to powerslam him on the unforgiving floor. So bravely, Alix runs over to her boyfriend's rescue and buries her heel into Flex's crotch, causing his eyes to bug out and his arms to release Rodez. Flex groans and meekly questions God as to why he has been forsaken as he drops to his knees. Showing some nice teamwork, the OAOAST's cutest couple then haul Phillips to his feet and send him flying across the arcade with a double whip. Flex is unable to stop and keeps on running, until finally a buffer stops him. That buffer being a handrail, as Flex crashes and burns in front of the Dance Dance Revolution machine. And who else is gonna be on a DDR stage other than The Dance Dance Dragon? Well, maybe Hoff. Angry that his Combo has been disrupted, The Strong Style Party Animal leans over the handrail and just SMACKS Flex with a forearm that KOs the fitness fanatic. Dragon then goes back to his game, while Alix and Leon regroup. ALIX Lee-Lee, are you okay? RODEZ I think so...you still have the belt? ALIX Yep. I think we should maybe go now? This was a sweet surprise and stuff and it's definately the U.S.A, but it's not that Fun. So, maybe it's Time we went? RODEZ Sure. This wasn't a good idea anyway. Taking his girlfriend by the hand, Leon leads Alix towards the stairs...but she has other ideas. ALIX While we're here though... Alix nods towards the big slide that leads from the second floor to the ground, with a childish grin on her face, which Leon returns in kind. RODEZ Meet you downstairs. ALIX Yay! Girlish flee overcomes Miss Spezia as she skips over towards the slide. Leon meanwhile decides to take the stairs, still wrestling with his conscience. But hey, at least Alix is having fun now as she scuttles over to the slide and with the camera-man gratuitously behind her, she sets off. ALIX WHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEE... ...EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE... ...EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE... ...EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! Hands waving in the air, it's amazing such a simple little ride can give a grown woman so much pleasure (dirty jokes on a postcard), but it does as Alix rides the bumps and skids to a halt. Almost in celebration, Alix jumps up and cheers her safe arrival on the ground...not expecting to be wiped out by a LARIATO~! by Biff Atlas!!!! Quick as a flash, Biff does what any red blooded, slightly creepy, hula skirt wearing muscleman would and dives on top of the half-conscious Alix... ...and despite only being halfway down the slide, Charles starts a counting! 1... WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEE... 2... WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEE... RODEZ BREAKS THE FALL! RODEZ Nobody's taking my girl's belt, fool! ROBINSON Except you, right Leon? RODEZ ...shut up! This momentary conversation between referee and wrestler who isn't actually wrestling because he's in a kids entertainment complex distracts Leon momentarily, allowing Biff to capitalise with an uppercut to the gut. Rodez sprawls backwards and Biff abandons Alix for the moment, following Leon with an attempted clothesline. Leon ducks however, clocking Biff in the jaw with a back elbow and dragging him down with a stunner across the knee, aka The Facial! Biff is snapped back upright by the move and Rodez quickly capitalises with a jab! A jab! A jab! A ja...DUCKED! Biff points to his cranium to show how smart he is, to no-one in particular. But as he turns back around in search of The Silky Smooth One, he eats a big-time Superkick! Down goes Biff, as Leon takes a moment to get to know his assailant. RODEZ Why the hell are you wearing a hula skirt? BIFF *incoherent mumbling* RODEZ Eh, nevermind. Pulling Biff to his feet, Rodez uses another irish whip to send Biff steaming forwards. The Biffmeister goes clattering into a piece of guardrail and topples up and over, landing hard and audibly on his hip. To his credit, Biff pulls himself quickly back up, but that proves a mistake as Rodez charges forward and SOARS over the rail with a psuedo plancha, wiping Biff out in the process! ROBINSON HOLY CRAP!! The two men crash backwards and fall against a strength tester, one of those carnival things. Rodez pulls himself up first and swipes the heavy mallet away from a shocked worker as Biff slowly recovers and hauls himself back up. Leon doesn't seem to be concerned with that however, as he looks at the contraption in front of him and decides to show any 7 year old kids who happen to be nearby that he is indeed 'buff'. Wielding the mallet overhead, Rodez aims and swings... ...but detours the target... ...instead NAILING BIFF IN THE CROTCH WITH THE MALLET!!!!! BIFF AAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!! Eyes watering, Biff collapses in a heap. Rodez quickly disposes of the mallet and proceeds to go through a quick posedown routine to display that YES he is, indeed, 'buff'. Of course, he's wearing a shirt, but whatever. Posedown over, Rodez now leaves the whimpering Biff to it as he turns around and... ...sees no Alix. RODEZ Where'd Alix go? ROBINSON She left. RODEZ She left? ROBINSON She left. RODEZ She left!?! RODEZ Well, that's not strictly true. She went over to the Food Court and grabbed herself a hot-dog, put some mustard on it and [i]then[/i] she left. Limo just drove off. So, I guess we're walking to Dairy Queen then, are we? Shocked, Rodez looks around briefly before glancing out the door. Yep, she's gone. So's the limo. Running a hand through his finely gelled hair, disappointment is clear on Leon's face. Surely because he has to walk, right? He had something in the limo, yeah? He wasn't really going to try and win the belt, was he? RODEZ DAMNIT! Oh, nevermind, he was. Okay, on with the show!

I stand by my opinion here. "ECW" signing Danielson, Cabana and any other name mentioned here is such a horrible prospect it doesn't bare thinking about. The indipendent wrestling scene would be comatose and all for some half-assed marketing ploy for the WWE to have even MORE T.V time, as if the product isn't over-exposed enough already. It'll be WWE with a different, money friendly name. Anyone who thinks otherwise is a) kidding themselves or b) too blinded by ECW fandom to realise it. I'd take 80% of the indy feds who run the Alhambra now over this new "ECW".

Sweeney and Beef are worth admission price alone.

Late to the party. Those were the days. I had one match against WC in 2003/4 (?), probably no-showed it. After that I think I had one match booked against JJJ which I definately no-showed and that was about it for the Cruiserweight Division. I do remember asking to be in the Division a bunch of times but it never really happened. To be honest, the only reason I created Laberinto was because Landon wasn't considered in the Cruiserweight Division naturally, but Labs failed miserably too. This is gonna earn me some hardcore scorn from WC, but the only reason I'd go after the Cruiser Title now is because I need that and the HCG Titles to complete and SJL/SWF Grand Slam of titles and I'm a shameless mark for myself. It took a while to recover from Flesher's reign and it does suffer from everyone being a cruiserweight sometimes. Personal thoughts...I'd like more distinction between the belts. The Cruiserweight Title should be the 'spot monkey's title'. Guys like me should be going for that and there should be less focus on writing top notch, technical masterpiece matches. Stips would help, more multi-mans, Cruiserweight Addenda helps for straight singles. The International should then be more focus on straight wrestling, an 'old school title' as such, with more orthodox stipulations and focusing on great wrestling to win.

Hogan hulking up at Mania X8 and the 5 minutes afterwards, which I assume takes it to the end of the match. EDIT: And the last 5 minutes from Rock/Mankind on Raw, from the moment Shamrock interferes onwards.

Arsenal for the CL? Can't bring myself to do it, I'm sitting here routing for Villereal right now. Although to be fair, Wenger's actually got one Englishman in his team tonight, that's a nice change. Anyone else got FM Handheld? I'm playing as Norwich, 3rd in the Championship and the board are telling me to "Ignore those supporters who have been calling for your resignation". I've heard of demanding fans, but come on now.

Remember Randy, you're not allowed to call these new sluts "sluts", okay.

We have too many titles and not enough challengers as it is. One minute the roster's too small, the next we're pitching on a new title? Crazy, man. I voted keep them seperate, but there's no way of voting for that and also saying It'd be cool for the HCG Title to have House Rules Matches once in a while, assuming the Champ is cool with it. Hey, why not a House Rules Tournament? And yes, despite my distaste for tournaments, that's a serious suggestion. Give the guys who aren't doing much (who are the people who get House Ruled'd anyway) something to strive for. 'King Of House Rules'. Make it an unofficial title if need be, like a crown instead of a belt or something. That'd be cool. Tag teams by one person? Eh. I've got 7 characters in the OATOAST and that only works because it's a co-op fed rather than a competitive fed. I'm a no on that one.

Actually, I don't really think my promo would fit as an opener, because it'll be pre-taped. So if you want opening promo, I'll happily hand it over. To you and you only, seeing as you asked first and stuff. I take it by 'send everything to Janus', that includes booking requests for the next show?

I won? Shit yeah! I eagerly await JJ's match for a comparison, but in the meantime yays and stuff for being Champion again. This is now the part where I flake out and lose the belt within the month.

I hate to think what'll happen if this new AWA DVD sells well.

Good stuff. Still can't believe they put the title on him though.

You say that like it's a bad thing. It is. Why would I want to watch Austin Aries in TNA when I can watch him have better matches and get better storylines or feuds in ROH? Ditto Shelley. Ditto Strong. Ditto Homicide. Argueably, ditto Joe. If they're bringing in ROH guys, they need to book them favourably to their booking in ROH. Else, you might as well buy a ROH DVD. They've got a limited enough amount of TV time as it is, without padding the roster with guys just because they're popular elsewhere and doing little with them, when they could use the T.V time to push wrestlers ROH don't have like Killings, Sabin, Skipper and (now) Lethal. Otherwise, you might as well just watch ROH.

Any reason for Colt/Danielson being so short? Did Colt have an injury or something?

The worst thing is, I woke up this morning fully expecting the show not to be up when I got on here. Take that as you will.

Just let it die, Jesus. Can we at least call it "ECW", complete with finger-quotes, ala "ECW" One Night Stand. It's not ECW, it never would be ECW. ECW is dead. The end.