COLE
Well, we thought our first ring action of the night was the previous match, but it was not to be. This next tag match though promises to be a doosy.
The emotionally heavy lyrics of Don't believe the hype by hip-hop legends Public Enemy come through the arena speakers and into your living room. The entrance doors spread apart, revealing the trio that comes straight out of the mean streets of Compton, the South Central Militia
BUFFER
Ladies and gentlemen the following match is scheduled for one fall with a televised time limit of sixty minutes. Coming to the ring at this time, accompanied by the foxiest honey in South Central L.A....from South Central Los Angeles, representing Jim Cornette Enterprises, at a combined weight of 535 pounds...the SOUTH CENTRAL MILITIA!
Clad in black leather pants, lined with rhinestones down the legs, and a tight black halter top, Shyanne is a model of feminine perfection. The male members of the SCM stroll to the ring, looking like they were ripped straight out of a Bow-Wow video. Certainly these are no pretty wrestlers dressed as studio gangsters. These, as Eazy E would sing, are real muthafuckin g's. And BUTT ugly ones at that! The dangerous men are one to be wary of, and fans in the front rows scatter backwards unwilling to incur their indiscriminant wrath. Vincent "Whitey" Santana and Marcellus "One-Eye" Wallace slide into the battle field, one again succeeding in frightening poor Micheal Buffer.
CABOOSE
I'm guessing someone in the front office got a hold of Alix's pal Mary Jane (wink wink) and thought hey I bet a COD/SCM would rock, dudes! Far out!
COACH
How wrong you are, my purposeless amigo. Sit tight everyone, for Coach, wrestling's greatest orator will tell why this is a match with rich with history and backstory. The SCM after floundering in obscurity for the better part of a year came under the umbrella of Jim Cornette Enterprises. Within in this umbrella exist the tag team named The Midnight Express. This tag team holds the distinction of being one of only three teams to ever pin Chicks Over Dicks. Within the Express, exists a man called Ned Blanchard. Ned happens to be the estranged father of a child named Maya Olivia Myrick, who's mother happens to be Krista Tyler Myrick. Or as you rubes call her, Krista Isadora Duncan. But it gets better. The Midnight Express and The South Central Militia are being held responsible for injuring Holly-Wood. Holly happens to be the sister of the man Alix was slated to marry, Northstar. Currently Holly dates Logan Mann of The Heavenly Rockers. But before The Heavenly Rockers had eyes for Holly, their focus was on Chicks Over Dicks. A failed attempt at making the girls their groupies, saw the HR's forced into being their servants. Right now The Rocker's have an issue with The SCM as well as the NNMX. The NNMX, allies of the SCM, are embroiled in a beef with The Usual Suspects consisting of Leon Rodez and Zack Malibu. Leon is Alix's boyfriend. While Zack and Alix absolutely despise each other. Did that make sense?
CABOOSE
No.
The opening guitar strands of pop sensation Lindsay Lohan's cover of Edge of Seventeen play, as a gorgeous red pyro fountain springs forth from the stage. It meets with an equally lovely pink pyro waterfall, cascading from the ceiling. As the drum roll of the song kicks up, both the pyrotechnics dissipate, replaced by a booming gold explosion that engulfs the entire stage! I know that's the third time I used that entrance word for word. I don't care. Suck my BUTT, OAOAST. Suck it and love it every hot minute of it, you naughty, naughty sluts.
Through the unhealthy amount of smoke and harsh florescent lights emerges the OAOAST's sweethearts, Chicks Over Dicks! The girls are recipients of a gargantuan pop from every one of the spectators. Alix jerks her body back and forth, flinging her arm in the air to the beat of the pop tune. Krista downs a swig of Jack Daniels, and hurls the empty bottle over her shoulder, where it hits a stagehand in the face and pokes out one of his eyes. C'est la vie, mon ami!
BUFFER
And the opponents...first from Los Angeles, Californ-i-a, she is the 2005 OAOAST Babe of the year, and former tag team champion, ALIX MARIA SPEZIA!! And her partner from Tinseltown, Los Angeles California, she is the author of the New York Times bestseller Soul of a Womyn, and star of the Fit with Kid line of exercise videos. She is...KRISTA ISADORA DUNCAN. Together they form CHICKS OVER DICKS!
Alix, cheerfully flouncing down the ramp, wears a checkered pattern hot pants matched excellently with a long sleeve zipper front crop top. Krista wears shimmering gold leather pants, and a goldhalter top with a deep plunging neckline. The women roll into the squared circle to face one of the largest units they've ever encountered.
COLE
Both of these squads hail from Los Angeles, but the similarities of the parts of LA they come from are few. The SCM are based in South Central LA, the heartland of the city's infamous street gangs, boasting memberships that go into six digits. In South Central crime is rampant and hope is scarce. Alix and Krista come from the land of Mercedes, celebrities, high fashion, wild parties, ten million dollar homes, and lot of plastic surgeons, Beverly Hills for Alix and West Hollywood for Krista.
COACH
Is this wrestling's social commentary of the disparity between the classes in Southern California? Who will prevail tonight? The cold blooded white gang banger, and his convicted felon partner from Watts? Or the rich white girls from West LA? The outcome seems to be shrouded in the city's famous smog, because I can't see a winner!
DING DING DING
The sound of the bell leads Santana to develop a fiendish expression, as the Great White smells the blood in the OAOAST waters. Baring his platinum fangs, he invites Alix in for a lockup. Always the naive one, Alix stupidly accepts the invite. Shunning the lockup, his fist quickly devour his gullible victim with three straight left hooks. Already overwhelmed by this mighty antagonist, Spezia is about to topple over like a house of cards. But the predator keeps her upright, grabbing onto her chestnut colored hair, as he continues to batter her with his fists. Finally he ends his punch parade, coiling his gargantuan arms around her waist like twin pythons. From there he roughly jerks Alix into the air, holding her horizontally. After fifteen seconds passes he nonchalantly drops her frame across his knee for a pendulum back breaker.
COLE
Well, Chicks Over Dicks refused an invitation to the Anderson Cup. On the surface that seems crazy, but as we've come to learn what seems crazy with these two often turns out to be rather beneficial.
Grounded, Alix scuttles away from the loathsome hooligan. She utilizes the cables to pull herself up, but is quickly backed into a neutral corner by her unrelenting pursuer. Lashing forward he cracks her in the kidneys with a vile knee. Santana strolls back, taking his sweet time to measure the defenseless grappler. He lurches towards her, smashing a nasty forearm across her forehead, The fans remain firmly planted on Alix's side despite her poor showing thus far. Taking hold of her arm, Santana hurls her to the opposite corner with a whip. Shockingly Alix has the wits about her to ascend to the top rope and attack an arriving Whitey with a gracefully executed springboard clothesline. Sadly the move does barely a hint of damage to the heartless hoodlum. In fact it merely stokes his blazing fire. He takes this unrestrained aggression out on Alix's chest with a single barbaric knife edge chop. The sting of the grotesque blow knocks Alix all the way to the corner, where she crumples to the mat. Even in her clouded state, Alix is smart enough to keep her feet underneath the ropes, making certain she can't be pinned.
CABOOSE
Did you see that chop by Vincent Santana? He's a hard hitter. That's why Jim Cornette likes these guys.
Gritting her teeth, Alix pulls herself to her feet. Upon standing, she spots a clothesline that possess the lethality and gruesomeness of a French Revolution guillotine heading her way. Unlike Marie Antoinette, Alix sidesteps a dastardly beheading, letting the turnbuckle take the brunt of Vince's lariat. The feisty grappler jumps to the third rope and springboards off with a crowd popping spinning wheel kick. While the move fails to drop Vinny, it does leave him dazed. The relative success leads her to try a variation, a majestic springboard back heel kick! Already off balance, a surprised Vincent is dropped to the mat!
“LET'S GO ALIX! LET'S GO ALIX!
Alix's heart sinks to the pit of her stomach as she watches Santana stand up, displaying no ill effects from her springboard combo. With great determination she slides into him for a wheelbarrow setup. Not holding the greatest of wrestling knowledge, Santana hasn't a clue what to do. As such Alix effortlessly shoots her body up, and grabs the South Central beast in a headlock, then drops forward for a successful bulldog! Cussing loudly, One Eye slams the turnbuckle pad in frustration with his partner's gross incompetence.
CABOOSE
One-Eye getting a bit angry over there. He's trying to light a fire under Vince's BUTT.
At Krista's urgent request, Alix journeys to her corner and makes the tag. Krista's entrance into the contest is met with hearty cheer from those in attendance. After coming into the ring, the blonde bombshell leaps onto Santana for an ill advised monkey flip. Who knows what would make a holder of two masters degrees think she can monkey flip someone who can probably bench press twice her weight. Possibly the liquor? As you can probably guess her strategy doesn't work. Treating her body with all the he'd respect he'd show a common ant, Vince grabs her long, smooth, tanned legs, and runs to the edge of the ring, attempting to give her a modified running over the ropes powerbomb. Krissy barely wards off a catastrophic plunge to the outside when she sits on the top cable and grabs onto it for dear life. The fact that Krista isn't being wheeled out of the arena in a stretcher boils the ex-convict's blood. Seeing red, he heads directly for her gorgeous face with a lariat! However, KID hinders this ferocious effort, and wraps her muscular legs around his thick neck. In one blink and it's over motion she sends the gladiator tumbling to the mats with a hurricanrana! Santana lands knee first, howling in pain the second he slams into the thin black pads. One-Eye, like the cheering crowd, has little sympathy for his ally's plight, and rudely orders him to get up and get to work. Krista, who managed to pull herself back into the ring, jumps to the top rope. Amazing every last person in the arena and ignoring the plea's of her health insurance provider, Krista hurls good judgment to the wind, and launches herself at Vince with a dazzling corkscrew moonsault press. Fan's across the globe hold their collective breath out of realistic fear that she might miss her mark. But she lands squarely on the big man, leading to a round of “K-I-D!” chants!
COLE
Marcellus looks like he's about to blow!
Krista has nary a moment to bask in the crowd's adoration as the cold blooded knockout, Shyanne, is preparing to lower the boom on her. Snarling, Shyanne grabs a chunk of Kris' golden locks and harshly pulls her off Vince. And we have a.....CATFIGHT! Krissy powerfully spears the amazon to the floor. They roll around on the mat, tossing the fans' and Coach's hormones into overdrive, as they rip at each other's tight fitting tops. Krista eventually takes the cat out of the equation and turns it into an all out fight, as she rains down a flurry of murderous closed fists! Fortunately for the SCM, a recovered Vince lunges at Krista, tackling her off Shyanne and ramming her into ring apron! Taking advantage of Krista's prone position, Whitey wallops her with fists aimed directly at her ribcage. She frantically tries to shield herself from the gruesome blows. However there exists little in the way of defense against these punches that explode pain across her body as they land in rapid succession. At the request of Billy Silverman, who's getting mercilessly chewed out by Alix about the cheap tactics and his poor comb over, Santana rolls Krista back into the squared circle.
“LET'S GO KRISTA! LET'S GO KRISTA!” scream the spectators
Krista rises, having some difficulty breathing thanks to the onslaught of punches aimed at her ribs. The high flying diva meets her returning assailant with a melody of chops and forearms. The strikes, thrown as hard as Krista's body will allow, barely register in Vince's mind, causing as much anguish as a mere mosquito bite. Sporting an understandable look of alarm, Krista dashes to the ropes. Saying a little prayer to whatever deity will listen, Izzy flings herself at her rival with a body splash. Vince latches onto her slender hips and easily shoots her into the sky, joyfully planning to lariat her into oblivion on her descent. Forced to think quickly, lest she wind up in the second row, Krista shifts her body horizontally, grabbing hold of Vince's large cranium for a bulldog. However the thuggish lout kills what little momentum she has, reversing her attack into an across the knees rib crusher!
“OOOOOOH!” goes the crowd, sympathizing with Kris' harrowing ordeal.
Krista lies on the sweat stained mat, clutching her piqued ribs, her hair like rays of sunshine cloaking her expression of sorrow. Santana casually strolls to his corner, and gives a tag to the fresh One Eye. The gold toothed superstar enters the bout and scoops up beleaguered Krista, whipping her across the ring to a neutral corner. Before the horrific collision with the pads can slump her to the mat, One Eye impales Krista with a furious running s houlder block to the ribs. Grimacing, Izzy begins to move away, seeking to establish much needed distance between herself and the fearsome beast. It's to no avail as Marcellus holds her in place, repeatedly lodging disgusting stomps into her toned stomach.
COACH
From what I understand the South Central Militia have accepted their Anderson Cup invitation. I don't know who they'll face, but as long as they keep bringing Shyanne to the ring, I hope they make it all the way to the finals!
Leading her by the hair, Marcellus pulls Krista to the center of the ring. Wallace beams with despicable pride as he assess the reprehensible damage he and his partner have wrought. The master brawler whips a forearm into Krista's afflicted ribs. From there he methodically works over her midsection with a savage mixture of punches and elbow strikes, all aimed with pinpoint precision. Unable to withstand the intense pain Krista sinks to her knee, but still manages to muster the vigor to fire a defiant punch to Wallace's stomach. The distressed crowd prepares to raise their mood by cheering a triumphant comeback. But Marcellus crushes all jubilation with a firm elbow to the gorgeous lady's face. The 6'2 grappler backs off, talking smack to Alix, who isn't afraid to talk it right back. After ceasing his jawing, One Eye bolts forward, raking his black boot across the side of Kris' head, pushing her to the mat. He covers her for a pin, his stunning lack of wrestling knowledge being the reason he does not hook the leg.
1
2
KICK OUT!
“YEAAAAAH!”
“Come on, Krista!” Alix yells, the hyper flower child beating her hands against the turnbuckle.
Appearing a tad flustered by his fellow West Coaster's resilience, Marcy gets to his feet, dragging Krista along with him. His fists act as a hell spawned paint brush, painting black and blue across her beige canvas. Rather then sensibly stick with what works, Wallace gets a notion that it might be a swell idea to diversify his moveset, which happens to be shorter then Danny Devito. Thus he whips Krista to the cables, and waits for his prey to return so he can rearrange her face with a big boot. Problematically he foolishly whips the best selling author to the ropes nearest COD's corner. Alix's, who's been so disheartened by the bout's proceedings, can scarcely believe her onyx eyes. It's as if Krista's arrival is a glorious mirage, too magnificent to be true. Three pinches of her thigh shows Alix, now bursting with excitement, that this potentially cataclysmic slip is as real as the shoes on her feet. Bubbling with delight, she makes the blind tag with her elder “sister”. Rebounding off the ropes, Krista ducks under Marcellus' telegraphed big boot effort. But that avoidance is the least of his worries, as the malefactor has Alix barreling into him with a springboard leg lariat! Wallace is cracked flush in the jaw by her attack! On the outside, Shyanne gulps in revulsion at the turning of the tide
“LET'S GO ALIX! LET'S GO ALIX!”
Urged on by her fans, Alix presses the fight against the hip hop goliath. She drags Moe into a knuckle lock, which looks to play right into his monstrous strength advantage. But crafty Alix uses her speed to keep the flow of the match in her corner. She pulls him down ever so slightly, then flips over him, breaking the knuckle lock so she can drag him down with a modified sunset flip! Screeching jeers travel through the arena, as the foxy Shyanne has Silverman distracted on the ring apron, preventing a pin from being counted.
COLE
Come on, somebody get her down!
COACH
Get her down so she can go down. On the Coach that is.
Preferring to focus on the task at hand as opposed to the lackluster officiating, The SoCal diva tries to horsewhip her foot across the SoCal's thug's pug ugly face with a superkick. But rather then endure a potential broke nose in addition to the teeth she just knocked out, Marcy takes the cowards way out, diving to his corner like a running back into the endzone to tag in Vincent “Whitey” Santana. Vince, who had no expectations of being brought into the match, glares at Marcy as if he has gone completely out of his mind. Chants of “Alix” ring throughout the arena, as Vinny grimly saunters into the squared circle once again. He sprints at Alix at full speed, extending his imposing body into it's full six feet and four inches for a lethal flying shoulder tackle! Able to see the move coming miles away, Alix meets him in the sky and crooks her arm around his neck. All she does is keep her hold tight, while gravity does the work of plummeting them to the mat with a hellish implant DDT! As the fans cheer her on, the plucky diva rolls on top of the fuzzy headed gangster for a pin.
CROWD
1
CROWD
2
Shyanne is back on the ring apron, again diverting Billy Silverman from his duties as an official! Letting the crowd take up the task of insulting Shyanne, Alix dashes at Santana, bounding off his knee to drive her boot towards his face with the forever en vogue Shining Wizard. However Whitey, in desperation, throws up his muscular forearms, successfully deflecting the move! Alix stutters backwards, teetering off-balance. Before her brain can formulate another mode of attack, she has to deal with a rapidly approaching leaping side kick from Whitey! She regains her bearings just in time to dodge the maneuverer. In a logic defying sequence, Alix (who is 5'7) aims a running clothesline at Santana's (who is 6'4) head, but Whitey ducks(!) bellow it. Throw your brain out the window! As Vince spins around to keep his vision on the speedy wrestler, Alix is scaling up to the top rope and comes shooting back to take him out with a fantastic cross bodyblock! Miss Spezia hooks the leg for da pin.
1
2
Shyanne has again found her way to the apron. And Billy Silverman continues to be drawn to the tempting enchantress at the expense of the job he's being paid to do.
“Dude, she's not even that hot!” Alix moans, at her wits end with Silverman and Shyanne's antics. “I'll take you down Crenshaw sometime! We can drive up to Oakland and there's a whole bunch of chicks who look like that! Just count the pin! Arghh! This sucks! This sucks! I...” With a hard shove Santana rudely pushes the ranting and raving diva to the corner posts. Although caught entirely by surprise, she manages to put her left boot on the second turnbuckle, preventing a head on hit with the padded steel. Santana comes at her like a tornado with a running discus punch! Because of the telegraphed nature of the move, Alix encounters no trouble rolling underneath the twirling assault. She hops up, and takes off to the ropes before Whitey can plant his greasy mits on her. Aggravatingly, she rebounds into a tilt-a-whirl slam from Vinny! However Alix combats the move with an agile spinning head scissors, drawing a huge pop from the relieved fans!
COLE
That was a close call!
Riddled dizzy, Santana stands upright, and catches a disturbing glimpse of Alix rolling towards him like some kind of sonic the hedgehog impersonator. Unable to predict what she's planning on doing, his only method of protection is to assume a useless defensive crouch. Alix uncoils her body, springs up, grabs the side of his head and drops knees first to the mat, pasting him with a wicked jaw breaker! Vincent timbers over with the grace and force of a chopped down redwood. Against her better judgment, Alix tries for a pin, hoping against hope that Silverman's infatuation with Shyanne has passed.
1
2
You know what happened. Shyanne+Silverman=
Alix= Unable to bear the vexation, despondent Alix slinks to the corner where she makes the tag to Krista. Kris gives Al a comforting pat on the back, before waging war with the Vin man. Santana greets her rearrival with a hail marry haymaker that catches nothing but the cool arena air, due to Krissy's side step. Wrapping her arms around his knees, she drops him to the mat with a double leg takedown. Still in control of his tree trunk sized legs, Krista exerts every last effort to turn him over for a painful Boston Crab. Frustratingly, his sheer size gives her great difficulty in applying the hold. Santana kicks her off, providing himself with valuable space to rise unhindered. He follows Krista with a boot to the midsection the SCM had targeted earlier. Unwilling to be put through that miserable tribulation once more, Krista catches his foot, grins as she shakes her head, then violently pushes his shoe to the mat, knocking him off balance. Moving with great speed, she doubles the heathen over with a spinning side kick to his breadbasket, a bitter taste of his own medicine. She curves her arm around his neck, takes to the air, and whirls their bodies around like a dervish for a tornado DDT! Too engrossed in their elation, both the audience and COD fail to notice that Whitey managed to tag Vince during his merry-go-round like spin.
'LET'S GO KRISTA! LET'S GO KRISTA!” chant the crowd.
COLE
I don't think SCM wants to get into a wrestling match COD. Have Vincent or Marcellus even used a wrestling move all match?
COACH
I'd like to get in a wrestling match with COD. Man, that wasn't even funny. I'm losing my touch, guys!
One-Eye's entrance into the bout catches Krista completely off guard. Consequently he meets minimal resistance as he foists her up into a press slam position. A stark sense of fear pollutes Krista's visage, as she can only imagine the type of fatal fall that inevitably awaits her. Wallace commits the error of delaying the move. This is a foolish taunt attempt that allows Alix to sneak into the ring and chop block him! Much to the fan's glee and his increasing dismay, Wallace's knee buckles under him and Krista falls onto him for a lateral press! The sequence of Shyanne diverting Silverman with her double d's wearyingly continues, generating more boos from the audience. Winds ripped from her sails, Alix barley has the energy to throw even a small temper tantrum, and simply coasts back to the apron. Wallace has recovered to a doubled over position, appearing winded from the quickened pace of the fight. Krista clasps her arm around his neck for a side headlock. Her sly hope is that he'll attempt to run her to the ring ropes, where she take to the air and can crack his neck across the cable. Like a genie in the bottle, the big man grants her wish, rumbling across the ring, preparing to utilize the significant give of the ropes to push her off. But right before he can shred her vice grip, she executes her master plan, going airborne! Her ascent drags an anxious One Eye forward, but the top cable slices his momentum, lodging itself into his throat! As the fan's pop for the innovative strike, Marcellus rockets backwards, tending to his neck, while emitting audible squeals of misery!
CABOOSE
That's one of the worst things that can happened to you in a wrestling ring. The ropes can be great friends, but they can make horrible enemies.
“C-O-D! C-O-D! C-O-D!”
The beloved heroine bolts across the ring. She bounces back towards Marcy, but as opposed to running at the floored superstar, she gracefully cartwheels at him, extending her body into body splash on her return. Acting out of despondency and a strong desire not get tongue-lashed by Ned Blanchard for losing to his old flame, Wallace sucks his knees into his chest! Krista spots the simple counter, but has no way of evading it, and all she can do is clinch up for the impact of her flat stomach hitting his rough knees. CRAAACK! Although expected, the blow inflicts considerable pain, thanks to the earlier marring of her midsection.
“Come on, Krissy! You can do eeeeeet!” Alix shouts, channeling Rob Schnider's character from the Water Boy
COACH
Come on, Krissy! You can do, meeeeeeee!
As Krista is left on the mat struggling to regain her depleted breath, Marcellus rolls to the SCM base and makes a tag to Vinny Santana. While the SCM are busy discussing strategy(what strategy two people who know two moves between them can formulate is beyond me), the former fitness model is escalating to the top rope, plotting to fling her curvaceous body across the ring with moonsault. The excited roar of the pro-COD crowd betrays Izzy's position, altering Santana to her whereabouts. He thunders to her, blasting her in the back with a forearm before Alix can yelp a warning! With his opposer placed in a susceptible spot, Santana climbs to the top, bashing her back with punches, keeping her in peril. As he entangles her within a inverted face lock, Santana flashes a smile, his gaudy platinum teeth glistening under the arena lights. Mark 12/29/2005 on your calendar, kids, for it is a spectacular moment in wrestling history! It is the day the SCM did a move you couldn't learn within fifteen minutes at the beginners class at your local wrestling school. Santana obliterates KID with an awe inspiring top rope inverted DDT! As the ring vibrates from the colossal impact, Whitey attempts what he and Marcy are sure will be a match ending pinfall...
SHYANNE
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SHYANNE
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KICK OUT!
Seeking to rally Krista, Alix flashes back to her cheerleading days in high school, “Gimme a K!”
“K!” goes the crowd.
“Gimme an R!”
“R!”
“Gimmie a...uh...y? No that's not right. Gimme a 15! No that's a number. Uh, just gimmie an ISTA!”
“ISTA!”
“Yay, Krissy!” shouts Alix.
Encouraged by Alix's air headed but well meaning show of support, Krista summons the strength and desire to continue her rather lopsided contention with The Militia. She jumps to her feet, but Santana is on her with the speed of a cheetah and the ferocity of a mountain lion. He peppers her with an unwavering barrage of punches aimed at her toned abdomen and her face. Even as her neck snaps back like a ball bouncing off a court, Whitey's thickset legs are planting his feet into the mat, setting up for a discus punch that could shatter every bone in her face if it connected. At the last possible second she bends underneath his arm, then impressively runs up Whitey's chest to deliver a back flip heel kick to the face that collapses him to the canvas. The fans begin to loudly bleat her name, but she hasn't a second to acknowledge their adoration, as her attacker is undeterred. Santana comes straight for her head, wielding a lariat like a daunting sword. Exhibiting amazing speed, Krista back flips away from the deathly strike.
CABOOSE
Vincent Santana doing the right thing by bringing this match back to a brawl.
Krista attempts an Irish whip. That proves maddeningly unsuccessful, as Vince's brute strength conquers her attempt, reversing her into the ropes! On the rebound, Ford tries to snap her neck with a big boot! But the savvy starlet rolls underneath it, hops up and keeps on chugging. After hitting the cables, she zips towards him, planning on turning him inside out with an enziguiri! However she doesn't even get the chance to extend her body as Santana launches her overhead with a back body drop! White hot pain cut across her bones upon impact, as heavyhearted Alix lets loose a sympathetic cry.
COACH
The amount of damage done on the back body drop all depends on the height of who delivered. At 6'4, Vince can get his opponents high in the air.
Miserable agony ripping apart her body, Krista curls into a fetal position, in a pitiable effort to protect herself. With swimming ease, Vinny bends over and pulls her upright, lifting her into an elementary bear hug. His body feels like solid steel, lacking a single inch of give in it. As the lummox tightens his squeeze, he crushes the breath right out off her. Through the pulsating pain, and the sweat clinging her clothes to her body, Krista recognizes that she either must fight her way out of the deadly submission or risk succumbing to a chilling blackness. She frenziedly thrashes against his clutches like a damsel in distress, blonde hair flailing every which way, whipping Vinny in the face. Yet despite the spirited effort Santana's death grip refuses to disintegrate. Krista holds her arms in the air, and looks to the sky with exhausted eyes, as if she's calling on some higher power to work a miracle.
CABOOSE
Krista's in trouble. It's so hard to break a man that size's hold. It's even harder when you're her size. You can't deny her heart and her stubbornness. But I think it's just a matter of time before she passes out. What a win it would be for the South Central Militia.
COLE
They'd certainly head into the Anderson Cup with their confidence level high. But let's not count Krista out yet, Caboose.
“LET'S GO KRISTA! LET'S GO KRISTA!” chant the fans, aided by Alix's pounding of the turnbuckle.
Krista's given a gift from Buddha, as the substantial amount of sweat residing on her svelte frame actually causes her to slip from his embrace. But there's no light at the end of her joyless tunnel, as Whitey corrals her into a headlock. His dastardly intention is to basically choke the daylights out of her. Exhibiting some wrestling knowledge, he keeps his bulky weight on her shoulder's. Krista pops the fans, by planting stiff punches to his kidneys. She delivers enough strikes that the sheer pain eventually requires him to quit riding her shoulders. Having acquired some delicious leverage, Krista rises fully upright, feeling his clutch slowly fading. With the crowd singing her name, she exerts a monumental effort to head to the corner and free herself from her captor! It's no small task considering she has an ill tempered two hundred seventy-two pound passenger on her back, but the venerated wrestler reaches the corner and falls to her side. Santana is taken by surprise, and can't even get in arm in defense as he trips over her body and falls face first into the second turnbuckle!
COACH
Look at Shyanne! Look how mad she is. Come on over here, baby. Let the Coach comfort you.
Right hand smacking the top rope, feet stomping the apron, Alix energetically pleads for her partner to come and tag her! The capacity crowd seconds that request, belting out a full throated rallying cry for the downed heroine. Krista slogs to her corner, moving like the ring was covered in three feet of mud. Vince slides to the SCM corner and applies a tag to One-Eye, which receives little fanfare. Wallace hustles towards Krista, understanding a tag to Alix could send his crew's hopes of winning up in multicolored flames. He latches onto Krista golden boot, as the crowd cranks their noise level up even further. Bursting through this thuggish roadblock, KID stands up and brilliantly back flips her way out of his grasp! Upon landing she makes a much needed, much requested tag, to the animated Alix Maria Spezia! The arena is shrouded in cheers from the thrilled audience!
COLE
Here comes Alix!
Fueled by adrenaline and lots of illegal narcotics, Alix springboards into the melee! One-Eye has a lariat waiting to knock her into the Ice Age, but she stays in the '05 , slipping underneath it! The misfire clumsily totters Marcy forward, leaving his back exposed to a gorgeous dropsault from Alix! The graceful lady lands on her feet, while he suffers a blunderous throat first fall to the second cable, hollering and cussing on his way down! Given a shout of approval from the fans, Alix does a dance similar to what you might see a loaded with margaritas middle aged white woman do at Applebys when You dropped the bomb on me plays on the restaurant's speakers. Marcellus' problems continue to mount as Alix runs ropes, comes back and drives her body weight across his spine, taking a page out of her precious Lee-Lee's book with a CALL THAT BITCH BOJANGLES!!!!
“LET'S GO ALIX! LET'S GO ALIX!”
Out of the corner of her eye Spezia spots a worn down Santana lumbering towards her. She takes to the top rope then hurls herself at him with a lionsault press! In spite of his haggard state, he's able to catch the super popular star on his shoulder! On the outside, Shyanne directs traffic, gruffly barking at Vince to drive her into the turnbuckle post! Making his wish her command, he rumbles to the corner! The sugary brunette kicks her legs against his back as if she was a innocent lass being kidnaped by a nefarious Wild West villain. Annoying the SCM, Alix slides off Vince's back and lands solidly on her boots! Said boots dropkick him in the upper back, smashing his flabby tummy into the corner posts!
“KILL WHITEY?” She asks the fans, pointing to Vinny.
“KILL WHITEY! KILL WHITEY! KILL WHITEY!” chants the audience.
Groggily turning around, Vinny stammers into another one of Alix's famed dropsaults! As the drop portion propels Santana to the corner, the 'sault portion careens her into an oncoming Wallace! The warriors collapse to mat, as the crowd is at a fever pitch! Although surprised to be on top of One-Eye, Alix quickly gathers her thoughts and hooks the leg, maaaaaaaan.
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What a surprise! Shyanne has retaken her spot on the apron and in Silverman's fluttering heart!
“BOOOOOO!”
“OH HELL NAW! BITCH, YOU DONE DID IT NOW!” Alix proclaims. Steam rolling out of of every pore in her body, a huffing and puffing Alix makes her way to the detestable harpy! As the spectators howl in anticipation for the encounter between the LA based ladies, Ally Cat swats Billy Silverman aside. Festering with rage, Shyanne tries to club Alix with her forearm! But Ally blocks the strike, then grabs Shyanne's thick black locks! Shyanne furiously fights to break free, worried that she's about to get shoved to the floor. But quirky Alix unexpectedly deals with the meddlesome valet by planting her bubblegum pink lips onto Shyanne's for a spicy kiss! Flailing her arms like a mad woman, Shyanne is downright mortified at Alix's raunchy round of tonsil hockey. Those fans, who haven't already whipped out the Johnson&Johnson and the box of Kleenex, lewdly hoot and holler their approval for the titillating lip lock! I'm out of adjectives so I'll hand it to you, Coach.
COACH
Uh-huh. Well, Marcellus doesn't particularly have a problem with Alix kissing Shyanne, but if she's gonna put her lips on the baddest ho in his stable, she's gotta show him the money first. Thus Marcellus, like the G that he is, keeps his pimp hand strong by speeding at Alix with another clothesline! Thanks to Krista's shouts of “Quit queerbaiting and turn around, doofus!”, Alix is able to dive out of the away! Sporting a look of abject horror, One Eye can't put the brakes on in time, and his gargantuan arm connects with his sibling, shooting her off the apron and out of this contest!
COLE
Oh my!
COACH
Hey! Marcellus, why not just the magic happen, my brother? If it's money you wanted, it's money I got! I stole it from Caboose!
While the fans go absolutely nuts over the boo-boo, Marcy slowly inches away with the Steve Urkel “Did I do thaaaaat?” look on his face. His attention is soon yanked away from his wounded sister and moved to Alix, who's pulling him down for a victory roll!
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KICK OUT!!
“BULLSHIT! BULLSHIT! BULLSHIT!” chants the audience, who think that was a clear three.
Wallace gets to his feet quickly, hectically trying to assume the upper hand. He tosses the 200th clothesline of the match at her. Ally Cat catches his attacking arm, then bends him backwards, whamming him back first onto her knee! Rather then let him roll away to lick his smarting wounds, she crooks his left arm around her neck, and bends down so she can grab onto the inside of his left knee. With the fans wondering what he has in store, she kicks left leg back, swings their bodies backwards and drops him neck first onto the mat with the gonorrhea(I swear I didn't make that name up!)!
COACH
THE EMBASSY FOREVA! EH!
Unfortunately Ally can't attempt the pin, as she must thwart a restored Santana, who's closing in on her with a double handed strike! The attack carries the risk of pulping her entire face if it hits! So Alix sidesteps it, making sure to hook her arm around his as she avoids it. Ally drapes her arm around his chest, then nose-dives backwards, crunching his neck with a modified side Russian leg sweep!
CABOOSE
That looked a lot more painful then any leg sweep I've ever taken in my career.
COACH
Caboose, you forgot to put the word “awful” in front of career.
Despite the crowd already in a celebratory mood, One Eye hasn't quite thrown in the towel yet. He pushes up, forcing himself upright. Alix doesn't bother to try and keep him down, instead running the ropes. On the rebound she slides through the gap in his legs. After popping up, she drops him to a knee with a side kick to the stomach the exact second he turns to her face her. Moving at frighteningly fast pace, she hits the ropes once more, returning to mutilate his already ugly face with a basement running dropkick!
“OOOOOH” goes the audience, as blood begins to seep out of Marcellus' nose.
Ally signals to Krista that she wants a double team, and Krista is more then happy oblige! As Krista mysteriously stays on the ring apron, Alix speedily moves to the top rope. She leaves as quickly as she arrived, leaping off and landing on Krista's shoulders! For a moment it look like she might hurricanrana Kris into the ring. But Alix actually uses her partner as a launch pad, and soars her body at Marcellus with a stunning corkscrew moonsault! She connects perfectly, and the crowd screams their approval for the incredible and innovative move! Silverman counts the pin!
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3!!!
The fans leap up in excitement, as Buffer stands up to make the final announcement.
BUFFER
Your winners...CHICKS OVER DICKS!
”YEAAAAAAA!”
As their theme music returns to the sound system, the girls exchange hugs and high fives for their hard fought victory. Silverman goes to check on his supa fine honey, Shyanne. However she angrily shoves him away, having zero use for him for now.
COLE
A great showing for the SCM against former tag team champions, but Chicks Over Dicks once again pads their impressive record, winning the battle of Los Angeles. It should be interesting to see how the SCM recovers in time for the Anderson Cup.
CABOOSE
If the match stayed a brawl the Militia obviously could've won it. But when one actual wrestling moves were thrown into the equation things were squarely in COD's favor.
COACH
Who cares about this wrestling crap? Did you guys see where Krista's face was on that moonsault thingie? Oh man, oh man, oh man!!! Hehehehe!
*********************************************
Foshi is seen sitting down in the back. He puts down a bottle of water he was drinking from and looks as though he is preparing for a match as he tapes up his wrists. His pre-match routine is broken by someone entering. Foshi looks up at the figure who says something to him in Japanese.
(Conversation in English subtitles for the fans at home)
Rikjin Massamoto: Prepared for your match against Barry O tonight? I hear it's being run under 1989 rules. No pins, no submission. The only way to win is by countout or disqualification.
Foshi does not answer. He looks back down at his wrists.
RM: Well, no need to because I just informed management, on your behalf, that the match will not be happening.
Foshi looks up in what could be considered surprise mixed with indifference.
RM: With the exception of me, look at who you've been facing since your return. A bunch of guys no one cares about. A win is important, but doing something that people care about is what matters most.
Foshi looks back down.
RM: You may like for others to think that nothing bothers you. You let everyone think you're a cool character. You don't need to talk or make expressions. You're a laid back guy. But I know it bothers you. I know that you care. I know that it bothers you that you haven't done anything noteworthy that doesn't involve electric amplification since you had a mask on your face. I know it bothers you that everyone thinks you're a joke; you're the guy who has funny matches.
At this, Foshi stands up fiercely and gets right in Rikjin's face. He stares him down for a few moments, but it quickly becomes apparent that Massamoto isn't looking to antagonize or start a fight. His expression is one of complete sincerity. Foshi looks away and puts a foot on the chair he had been sitting on to tie his boot, purely out of habit.
RM: I know you're no joke because I've been in the ring with you. I know what you're capable of. I know it and you know it. No one who doesn't have a heart for being in that ring would've beaten me.
Foshi switches and begins tying the other boot. Rikjin is silent for a moment.
RM: Right now, you are ignoring me just the way you ignore your own potential and the way you let others ignore it. You just pass through and do whatever is given to you. You know what that'll amount to? Exactly what you're saying right now: nothing.
Foshi finishes tying his boot and sits back down taking a sip of water. He seems to be half pretending that Rikjin isn't even there.
RM: I'm simply letting you know the way others see you. Others who haven't been in the ring with you. I don't take lightly being defeated and I certainly don't appreciate guys who have beaten me taking themselves lightly. Passion is what makes all of this possible. Your passive attitude....your indifference leads to the greatest failure of all and will bring missed opportunity. Here(pointing to chest), you have that passion, but up here(pointing to head), you don't realize you have it.
Foshi continues to alternate sipping water and staring at the floor.
RM: No speech I give you is going to change anything. This is a wake-up call. I expect you to respond.
With that, Rikjin leaves as he entered. Foshi glances up from the floor and looks over where Rikjin had been standing, seemingly taking it all in. He then returns his gaze at the floor and once again sips water.
*FADE TO COMMERCIAL BREAK*
