HD:NRG/SK8R BOIZ AC MATCH

[Patty O'Green 0]

PK, my turtle dove, please put this after the Love Doctors/Heyross match. Merci beaucoup.

 

This was co-written by myself and my dearest friend Tony149. Tony, if you wanted to edit in the updated brackets after the match, you can do that. I just had them run it down, instead of showing the visual.

 

TERRY TAYLOR
Oh no, oh no, oh no! Girls, I know you love camera time, but did you really have to do this?!

(The camera goes to a shot of The Coach bound and gagged at the side of the announce table. Caboose and Cole are nowhere to be found. Coach's joy over being manhandled by Chicks Over Dicks seems to have been replaced by anger over having to be tied up for the next fifteen minutes. Speaking of COD, the camera pans out to reveal the girls from SoCal, Chicks Over Dicks, sitting innocently in Triple C's spot. Alix, wearing a pink A&F polo shirt and destroyed crop jeans, is stretched out across the announce table, sipping on her third margarita. Krista, outfitted in a sleeveless black wrap top and a ruffled red lace mini skirt, is on the couch in Caboose's position. Poor Terrence Taylor is hunched up against the armrest, sweating bullets at thought of the possible repercussions for his part in this insurrection.)

ALIX
Awww, don't be such a male reproductive organ, babe. We're just having a lil' fun. Don't be so snarky, sparky!

KRISTA
Hey, I know Caboose and Cole got a kick out of it. I mean they did give us the rope. Don't get your feathers ruffled, Chicken Hawk. You're always moaning that no one around here treats you like a human being.... 

ALIX
“Oh everyone is so awful to me! Waaaaah nobody is nice to me!” Like it's my fault you had to have a full on cavity search by a fat Korean dude at the San Fransisco airport!

TERRY
You called and told them I had sixty grams of cocaine hidden in my rectum! I couldn't control my bowels for two weeks!

KRISTA
Well, here's the perfect chance to show the world that Terry Taylor is more then a miserable comedic prop with even less sophistication and acting range then Conan O'Brien's masturbating bear. Plus, we've got drink service!

ALIX
I love, love, love the masturbating bear. The way he cups his manhood is soooooo adorable. It reminds me of how my momma's ex-boyfriend, you know, the Elmer Fudd one, would cup my womanhood. It took me years to find out why he would rapidly thrust his fingers in there. 

TERRY
You really should see somebody, Alix. These--These repressed memories can't be heathly. 

ALIX
Hello? Paging Terry Taylor's brain. I AM seeing somebody, silly. Leon Rodez.

(Krista nods to Mariachi and Moracca of Los Diablos De Fuego, who are dressed as waiters and hold a serving tray full of alcohol beverages)

KRISTA
Fans, here I am at Sofa Central with Terry Taylor and the winner of the 2005 female wrestler of the year, beating me out even though she's lost two times as many matches as me, six as opposed to my three, and has won eight fewer matches then myself, despite being in the company a year longer then me. But I'm not bitter, no sirreee bob! I'm sure if I wrestled in teeny tiny shorts that showed off half my ass, I could win a few awards to. Nope, not bitter at all. Who am I gonna have to deport to get a god damn bottle of tequila around here?

ALIX
Ooh, ooh, ooh. I'll take a Shirley Temple. 

TERRY
And I'll take death. But we're just moments away from one of our final Anderson Cup opening round match, featuring NRG taking on a team that owes their continued employment to Miss Krista Isadora Duncan, The Sk8er Boiz. The winner of this bout gets to take on ThunderKid and Reject. The other LI conference second round match sees these very same Los Diablos go against the Heavenly Rockers!

The house lights sink to a spooky darkness, as the arena is given light only be a steady green buzz shining around the entrance stage. The electronic preamble of Gavin Rossdale's ode to testosterone [i]Adrenaline[/i] is heard loud and clear over the state of the art system. Those in the crowd that recognize the music bring a group of jeers and taunts to the arena air. The black entrance doors marked by the OAOAST logo strewn across the front rip apart, and give birth to a massive litter of catcalls from the audience who are none too pleased to see [b]NRG[/b]. Biff Atlas, sporting a black cowboy hat , a white NRG t-shirt and aqua colored trunks, enters first, sneering at the disrespecting crowd. Mackenzie DeCenzo, showing off her splendid figure in hip hugging cargo pants and white t-shirt, emerges next, snobbishly holding her head high. Finally Flex Phillips, leader of this outfit, saunters out, wearing the same aqua colored tights as his long time partner. The trio join hands and foist their arms into the air as a series of [color=#43C6DB][b]blue[/b][/color] pyro missiles explode around them and the Arizona crowd's disgust reaches it's greatest height.

BUFFER
Ladies and gentlemen the following match is scheduled for one with fall with a 30 minute time limit! It is an opening round contest in the 2006 Anderson Cup! Now making their way to the ring, accompanied by Mackenzie DeCenzo, first from Venice Beach, California, weighing in at two hundred and fifty seven pounds, he is the crown prince of hair care, BIFF “SHAMPOOOOO” ATLASSSS! And his partner from Fort Lauderdale, Florida, he has the body of a Mr.Olympia, and the mind of an Oxford scholar, weighing in at two hundred and ninety five pounds, he is FLEX PHILLLIPSSSSS! Together they are...Nutritions Real Gurus......N..R....GEEEEEEEEEEEE!

KRISTA
(scoffs)
Nutritions Real Gurus? Some would say I'm a fitness guru myself, but I'm not. I'm a fitness queen! And Ned Blanchard is an ASSHOLE!

ALIX
Somebody better get moving on that Tequila, or it's gonna be a looooong night.

The group walks down to the ring, with purpose and intent in their steps. Flex pauses in front of the camera to uh...flex his Mr.Olympia worthy biceps. Shouting over the jeers of the sellout crowd, he blasts his soon to be arriving opponents, The Sk8er Bois. Eventually, Phillips follows the rest of his troop into the battle field. He strikes statuesque bodybuilding pose at the center of the ring, while Biff stands on the turnbuckle, furiously ripping off his shirt Hulk Hogan style.

[i]Adrenaline[/i] cuts generating a murmur amongst the crowd who's eyes are now locked onto the entrance way. Ten female dancers clad in costume military fatigues are positioned on the entrance stage, five on each side of the door. The house lights morph from a sea green, to a darkened [color=#E56717][b]orange[/b][/color]. The remarkably attractive dancers begin writhing their bodies to the bumping testament of Sean Paul's [i]We be Burning[/i]. The doors pull apart, showcasing teen idols, Marvin and Melvin Nerdly! This appearance of the stunning hunks scores a chorus of ear splitting screams from every woman in attendance! Cheers echo around the Sk8er Boiz, as they rhythmically bump n grind with the bevy of scantily clad dancers.

BUFFER
And the opponents....from Laguna Beach, California VIA Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, they are former tag team champions, and the two hottest dudes in the OAOAST, The Marv, Hell Mel.......THE SK8ER BOIIIIZZZZZZZZ!

A wave of shrieking girls gives the OAOAST's understaffed security force quite the workout, as they press up against the steel guardrail, each praying that they might be the one who can get their hands on the tanned skin of these beautiful gods. Mel, attired in an NRG tanktop, and dangerously low rise destroyed white jeans, strolls down the left side of the ramp, whipping the women into a frenzy with cute winks and sexy smiles. Dressed in similar pants, and a Mink fur coat, Marv cockily struts down the right side. He gingerly teases and taunts his worshiping fans, by opening his coat to reveal a hint of his glistening washboard abs, only to cruelly slam it shut the moment the girls go wild for the peek afforded them. After nodding to their personal hero, Krista, the kids slide into the ring, and hit a pair of bodybuilder poses, a direct insult to the formidable foes across from them. Cooler headed Flex opts to start for his unit while Mel does the same for his team. The ref calls for the bell and we are underway!

TERRY
The Sk8r Boiz were at the Bank One Ballpark today for an autograph session. There were hundreds of fans present, and they were practically pushing the twins onto the field, they were so excited. The only time anyone's pushed me onto a ball field was when my ex-wife did it when we flew over one in an airplane. Thankfully a mascot broke my fall!

Here's the bell (finally) DING DING DING!

Mel offers a sportsmanlike lockup to his rather unsportsmanlike foe. But Flex ain't gonna have none of that. He's came to whup ass, and whup ass he will do. He fires off a round of hard hitting left jabs, that go unanswered until Mel comes back with a surprise kick to the knee. The peppy babyface starts rifling dangerously painful punches and elbows to Phillips' noggin. Flex ruefully wonders why a man who weighs over a hundred pounds less then he does is so easily able to lay into him. More punches! More elbows! More reasons for Flex's wife to cheat on him with the mailman! Snarling, Phillips retorts with a pair of haymakers, each missing horribly. Mel stays on the attack, his sheer hand speed allowing him to pepper Flex's face with piston like punches before the mammoth grappler even knows what's what. Phillips cowardly backs out of the lopsided opening exchange sporting a deep cut across the bridge of his nose as a result of his oafishness. With sorrowful eyes, The Floridian glances over to his partner, who simply shakes his head in unmasked disappointment. Upon composing himself, Flex hits the ropes facing Mel and guns back at the Boi with the speed of a bullet. But Hell Mel has a clever counter cooking in his kitchen, in the form of a Manhattan drop! As Phillips' minuscule testicles rocket into his chest cavity, affable Mel taunts him with a little posedown routine. An angry Phillips stands up, trying to nurse his little unit back to health. As he does so, Melvin scampers to the top turnbuckle. The fans bluster in anticipation for a high risk move, and Hell Mel certainly doesn't disappoint. When Flex commits the fatal error of turning around to face Nerdly, The Sk8er Boi propels himself forward and tags the nutrition guru with a missile dropkick! As chants for the babyfaces swell across the venue, Mackenzie covers her ears in a futile attempt to block out the vexing noise!

TERRY
Girls, NRG had some cruel words for you, saying you owe your fame to the fact you slept with everyone in your Rolodex.

KRISTA
I can't speak for Alix, Terry, but Krista Isadora Duncan doesn't go sleeping around. Men come to me, begging yours truly to give them a night to remember. Before coming out here, I saw Biff and Flex oiling each other up. And looking at what's happened in the bout so far, I'd say NRG is used to getting pounded...

TERRY
By each other! Oh Terry, you're sexy, witty and a great announcer. The true triple threat!

Obviously this match isn't unfolding in the manner Phillips envisioned! Consequently, Flex has to move with a desperation he'd never thought he'd have to. Flex attacks Melvin with a knee strike to the gut, and wastes nary a second in following it with a forearm to his upperback. Thinking the youth dazed, Flex hauls him into a front face lock. Preparing to hit a big time brainbuster, he whispers a series of spiteful taunts to his hated rival. But before he can even get Mel off the ground, the Sk8er Boi, owing an assist to his heavily baby oiled body, slips out of the hold! Putting his new found freedom to good use, energetic Mel whips a barrage of chops into a dejected Phillips' beefy chest. Ten solid knife edges light Flex up like Rockefeller plaza at Christmas before Mel whips him to the cables. Phillips bounds back putting his best foot forward with every big man's favorite move, the big boot! However, Mel nonchalantly catches Phillips' leg and shoves it back to canvas. Astounded that he's on the losing end of this contest, Flex is much too unsettled to stop Mel from latching into his left arm, and nearly tearing it out off it's socket with a single arm ddt! Mackenzie makes herself useful, preemptively distracting the referee before Mel can even attempt a pin.

KRISTA
NRG's valet is kind of hot. Clearly the years of heavy cocaine use have yet to decimate her figure. Although looking through her spread in [i]Men's Fitness[/i] I can see that her swiss cheese BUTT shows the cracked roadwork I'd expect to find only on the decrepit roads of inner city Detroit.

Flex stands up, protecting his bad arm, lobbing feeble right jabs to keep Nerdly at bay. Quick as a flash, Hell Mel easily evades the lazy strikes and attacks Phillips with a dropkick to the injured arm. Caught in obvious pain, Flex stammers backwards. Mel pushes his advantage, leaping onto Flex's broad shoulders into a hurricanrana position! The minute he situates himself on the peak of the mountainous grappler, Phillips frantically tries to throw him off with a powerbomb. Unwilling to be the recipient of the deathly hold, Mel spins out to Flex's side, drops backwards and whips the 6'3 brawler over with an arm drag to that hurt arm! As Flex lies on the mat whimpering like a hurt kitten, the excited audience cocoons Mel within an ocean of applause. Phillips stands up, trying to catch his breath and get the blood flowing back to his arm. Melvin jets to the cables, leaping onto the third rope, and ripping back through the air with a graceful lionsault! But Phillips hits a stroke of luck, and catches the hero on his spacious shoulders! Thinking he has Nerdly tightly clamped onto his body, Flex makes a bee line for the corner. But Phillips hold isn't quite as secure as he believed, and Melvin's glistening body slides out of it! Moving to Flex's side, Nerdly cinches onto the muscle man's arm, and pulls him backwards with a side russian leg sweep!

KRISTA
Yikes! At this rate Mel may end this match before we see Marvin [i]or[/i] Biff.

Phillips rises to his feet, and assaults Mel with a plethora of vulgarities. Melvin let's the harsh words roll off him like a rain drop, preferring to do his fighting with action and not empty tough talk. Sporting an arrogant grin, Mel coolly beckons the former bodybuilder in. Upset with the lack of respect shown, Flex whirls around with his good arm to horsewhip Melvin with a discus clothesline. The teen idol slips beneath Phillips' arm, and puts himself in a fabulous position to inflict some serious harm to his archrival! Flex turns around and gets his head smacked from side to side like a ping pong ball by Melvin's raid fire punches! Acting entirely out of  a sense of self-preservation, Phillips turns the tide by boorishly thumbing Nerdly in his ebony eyes. While Flex catches his depleted breath, Hell Mel woozily staggers about the ring, combating temporary blindness and the water forming in his eye sockets.

TAYLOR
I see that Flex isn't afraid to be scummy enough to try and win this match.

ALIX
And I see that the frat boys behind me aren't afraid to be drunk enough to try and grab my breasts.

KRISTA
By the way, Ned Blanchard is an ASSHOLE! You're an ASSHOLE, Ned! ASSHOLE!

ALIX
Uh-oh. I think somebody's about to be very cranky. 

KRISTA
Eat me!

ALIX
Right now? 

KRISTA
Eat me!!

ALIX
As you wish. 

TERRY
Hold on a minute, Alix. Look at this. 

ALIX
Eh. I'm kinda in the mood for taco not sausage. 

TERRY
No. I'm talking about the action in the ring.

Flex tries to swing momentum back to his camp with an Irish whip. However, the savvy cruiserweight effortlessly reverses it. Before Phillips can run the ropes, Melvin catches his left arm, and uses it to  whirl Flex in front of him. With the raucous crowd singing his name, Mel clutches onto Phillips' neck, then violently cranks it with a swinging neckbreaker! Leaving Flex to moan in misery, Nerdly takes off to the ropes, preparing to return with a running shooting star press. Yet Phillips has other ideas within the twisted recess of his mind. Betraying the hurt in his neck, he springs up as Mel is only a few inches away from him. Thanks to the short distance separating them, Hell Mel isn't able to offer an offensive move, and instead can only brace himself for the impact of Phillips' vile spinebuster! The savage ending of the slam rocks the ring to it's very core. While Mackenzie sarcastically claps for Flex finally performing some sort of offensive maneuver, he pulls Melvin up by head. Phillips lands a few well placed elbows to the small of his back to keep the plucky Sk8er under control as he drags Mel to the NRG corner. A tag is applied to the surly shitkicker, Biff “Shampoo” Atlas.

ALIX
Biff has a really weird gimmick. Bisexual redneck hair fetishist bodybuilding badass with a protein drink empire. It's like they used one of those random gimmick generators to come up with his character. What's next, lesbian single mother alcoholic fitness guru who's impossible to beat? Oh wait...awkward!

KRISTA
This just in to Sofa Central: Ned Blanchard, you're still an ASSHOLE!

TERRY
Krista, please. We're live. 

KRISTA
Why don't you eat me, Terry. It's obvious you've fantasized about it. Every red-blooded man has. Oh, that's right. You like 'em young and pretty, don't you? Like the time you and Dr. Death sexually assaulted that 13-year-old Japanese girl, right? 

TERRY
I beg your pardon?!

KRISTA
You should be begging for God's pardon. I personally think the big guy's overrated, but that's just me and Alix. 

ALIX
I like God. I hear He can do some pretty cool stuff.

Biff's entrance into the fray is met with inquisitive chatter from the fans. As he has never competed in an OAOAST ring, most are genuinely curious to see how he'll perform. He immediately starts off on the wrong foot, getting taken off his foot with a gorgeous leg lariat by Mel! Biff, [i]chewing tobacco[/i], stands up amazingly quickly. He lathers Hell with an ensemble of forearms, each beating his chest like a drum, causing Mel to trumpet sorrowful blues. An Irish whip transports the former tag team champ to the corner, and Biff is right behind him with a fierce corner clothesline. The immense pain of the attack barely has a second to register in Mel's mind before Biff commences ripping into his midsection with hated filled stomps. A young female fan in the front row actually has the unbelievable audacity to heckle Atlas. Never one to let such discourtesy go unpunished, Biff hurls a wad of tobacco at the innocent girl! 

TAYLOR
Words can't express the joy I'm feeling being on the laughing end of unwarranted abuse, instead of the receiving end!

KRISTA
You thought that was funny? Pack your flame retardant underwear, and asbestos proof swimsuit because you've won an all expenses paid trip to hell. Hey Hitler, you up for some fried chicken?

ALIX
Why did he hit her?

KRISTA & TERRY
......

As the moralistic fans decry his shameful display, Biff is already executing his next devastating move, a standard brainbuster. However Mel prevents his brains from being busted by latching onto the ring ropes as if his young life depends on it. And knowing Biff, his life probably does depend on it! Despite his unrivaled strength, Biff can't manage to overpower the rope aided resistance of his foe. Now looking like a man possessed by the darklord himself, Biff breaks his hold and promptly attempts to separate Mel's head and neck from the rest of his body with a lariat! Mel dodges the beheading, rolling bellow the approaching arm and making Atlas even madder then before. The Venice Beach native tries to bust the Laguna Beach native wide open with a fearsome running clothesline. But Mel thankfully aborts the move with a swift kick to Biff's ample gut. Nerdly snags a doubled over Atlas into a front facelock, then spikes his large melon into the unforgiving canvas with a textbook DDT! Too eager to show the world how tough he is, Atlas makes the mistake of standing right up and eats a second DDT for his folly! Being the hard headed sort, he doesn't learn his lesson and returns to his feet for another beating. This time his headstrong blunder earns him a DDT of the tornado variety! The rabid fans heartily applaud for the DDT triplets, as the world seems to wave and swim before Biff's blurred vision.

KRISTA
I want to point out that I've remained insightful, reasonably calm and most importantly, sober, whereas my sloshed partner is swapping spit with some University of Arizona freshmen. Alix, the girl's barley old enough to remember Michael Jackson when he was black! I guess it's better she do that then dance the can-can on the announce table.

Mel strolls over to his corner and makes the tag to Marvin, who sarcastically mouthes the word “Thanks”. Why the sarcasm? Because the burly strongman Biff is on his feet, with steam pouring out of almost every hole in his thick body. Needless to say, Marv isn't overly enthralled at the prospects of trying to tame this ferocious beast. The Marv holds his hands in front of his body, palms first, while manically imploring Atlas to “simma down now.” To absolutely no one's surprise Atlas doesn't grant Marv's request, deciding instead to try and knock him out of the ring and into Mariachi's serving tray with a running shoulder tackle! The shot nearly caves in Marvin's chest and knocks him flat on his back, drawing concerned gasps from several teenage girls. Against his better judgment, the pride of Western Canada stands up, only to get clocked with another shoulder tackle! Snorting like a rampaging bull, Biff takes a chunk of Marv's gelled hair and drags him to his feet. After pelting his sweat drenched forehead with two closed fists, Atlas hurls him across the ring with a rough Irish whip. The Marv returns to a belly to belly suplex! But he somehow lands on his size 10 shoes, scoring an appreciative cheer in the process! While the onlookers may be delighted, sour Biff is anything but! He catches an incoming flying forearm from Marv, and tries his damnedest to break the Nerdly twin in half with a powerful urange into a backbreaker! But as soon as he's put in front of Atlas' body, the handsome hunk wraps his legs around Biffy's torso, then jerks him down to the canvas with a roll up!

CROWD
1

CROWD
2

Hollering like the madman that he is, Biff shoots his shoulder off the canvas! He jumps up and throws a match and potentially career ending clothesline at Marv! However the lightening quick superstar denies himself a trip to the emergency room and the lollipops that come with it, by avoiding the move and spinning behind Atlas to hook him into a waistlock! Marvin works a miracle equivalent to Jesus walking on water, hitting a the hulking grappler with a German Suplex! Every single person in the jam packed venue is completely flabbergasted that David was able to slay Goliath in such a fantastically impossible manner. Nerdly proves it was no fluke, and wows the roaring crowd with a second suplex! Can he get a third? The mega hottie is certainly going to try, but Shampoo has every intention of stopping him! Biff snaps a nasty elbow at the side of Marv's cranium, and immediately feels the affects of that strike in the form of a loosened grip on his waist. He rifles another painful elbow and acquires the same pleasing result! The third time turns out to be a charm, and the grasp is shattered altogether. Biff readjusts himself then throws a clothesline shortly thereafter. Already having to deal with a serious migraine, Marv has no chance of countering Atlas' latest lariat, and finds himself mashed to the beige canvas!

KRISTA
Biff's clotheslines have all the extension of Jim Ross lifting his leg up to the fart. You'd think if you were going to only use one move, you'd try and throw it so it doesn't look like you were trained by one of the fighters off [i]Bumfights[/i].

Shampoo starts to lift Marv off the canvas, and quickly finds his clothesline didn't do nearly the amount of the damage he thought it would as Marv starts winging boisterous punches deep into his ribs! The Californian makes a valiant attempt to strike back, but Marv hits him often enough to keep Biff off balance. He pulls himself upright, then uses his speed advantage to swing behind his lumbering rival and secure a waistlock. More German suplexes? Not if Biff has anything to say about it! A succession of elbows breaks the hold and snuffs out all hope of a suplex. A festering cauldron of  sexual rage, Biff spins around, intending on hammering Marv with a sadistic forearm smash. But that never materializes, as Marvin speedily crooks his head between Biff's unattacking arm and floats him over with a Northern lights suplex! Referee Clem Buzzlefoxer hits the mat to count the pinning situation!

CROWD
1

CROWD
2

KICK OUT!

ALIX
What I've really been impressed with is the way the Bois have actually out brawled the bigger NRG. That and their tight butts. Mostly their tight butts. But the brawling thing is kinda cool also. Not as cool as their tight little tushies. 

KRISTA
While we're on the subject of butts. Hey Ned, you're still an ASSHOLE!

Biff stands and instantly finds himself under fire from a swarm of rapid fire kicks from The Marv! Unable to defend himself from the fast moving blows he's helplessly backed into the corner. Marv follows Atlas in, allowing him no respite. He winks at Krissy, who giggles like a schoolgirl, before Irish whipping his rival across the ring! But Shampoo reverses it and sends Marv running! Annoying NRG to no end, Marv evades a gruesome collision with the poorly padded steel turnbuckle, by pressing his hands onto the top rope and springing back! However the agile counter does not come without it's pitfalls. Marv's landing is of the cringe worthy variety, his left knee twisting disgustingly as his foots planted onto the mat. Despite his best efforts to do so, his grimacing face can't mask the intense pain besieging his left leg. Biff detects his rival's afflicted state and stalks the youngster as he clumsily hobbles about the squared circle. The blood is in the water and the great white is coming to feast! Eventually Atlas closes in on his victim, huffing and puffing like a psychotic wolf. He wraps Marv's arm around his head, ties his arms around his lithe waist, then foists the Boi high into the sky. Biff delays his move for around eleven seconds, lending Marvin time to contemplate the grievous error he and his brother committed in angering NRG. After the clock ticks twelve, Biff slams Marvin left leg first across his outstretched knee with an especially brutal knee breaker.

KRISTA
Biff, not as stupid as he sounds or looks, is starting to make Marvin pay for his error.

While the crowd tries to rally the adored babyface, Shampoo seeks to annihilate him. Atlas has greater success then they do, grabbing Marv's left leg and holding it horizontal to the mat. Showing technique that betrays his stupefying lack of wrestling ability, Biff drapes his right leg across Marv's left. He drops down and beautifully impacts The Marv's leg into stone solid mat! Tormented Marvin screams into the night, drawing tears from many a young woman, and putting a devious grin on Biff's face

ALIX
(Standing up and cheering like a cheerleader to rally the Boiz)
Melvin, Marvin, Mama Cass, drop those pants so I can spank your ass!

Atlas elevates a grounded Marv's burdened left leg, then swiftly buries a smart elbow into the sore part of his inner knee. Marvin pulls his sweat soaked upper body off the mat, howling in chilling agony. The expert camera man gets a telling shot of twelve year old girl crying as she watches her crush get brutalized. Looking to inflict even more harm upon the perfectly sculpted body of Marvin Nerdly, Shampoo begins a figure four leg lock. But during the pivotal part, where he has to turn his back to Marv, the Sk8er Boi stuns him by using his good leg to shove him into the turnbuckles nearest the Sk8er corner! The fans pop huge as Shampoo endures a freight train worthy collision with the ring posts. Blue eyes almost rolling into the back of his gigantic dome, the dazed warrior staggers backwards into a rollup by Marvin! Buzzlefoxer drops into position to make the count....

CROWD
ONE

CROWD
TWO

Atlas turns a defensive kickout into a clever offensive attack, pressing his sweaty palms onto Marv's sweet tushy and pushing him towards that very same turnbuckle he was so rudely introduced to! As bad as Biff's crash may have been, Marvin's is ten times as repugnant. The alluring hunk trips over his own wrestling boots and impales his shoulder on the callous metal ringpost! Even Mackenzie has to join in the onlookers in shuddering at the head on hit. The silver lining in the very bleak cloud is that Marv landed in his corner. Consequently he's able to tend to his injuries while Mel takes the fight to NRG.

KRISTA
What a dumb move by Biff. However it's not as dumb as you, Alix, removing the gas gage from your car because you thought that way you'd never have to fill it with gas again.

ALIX
If it can never hit E, then it's never out of gas. Duh, Krissy! I know stuff because I got my like LSD.

KRISTA
Honey, do you mean GED?

ALIX
Oh, I got that to!

Teeming with energy (lol da punz!) and spurred on by the fan support, Mel sprints toward Biff at top speed with a shoulder block. Reacting incredibly fast, Atlas adjusts his position, affording himself in easy time in locking Melvin into a sleeper hold. However that pedestrian submission attempt stays cinched in for a paltry five seconds, before Hell Mel ambles to a neutral corner! As Atlas' grip begins to wane, Mel sinks to his knees. Biff's deteriorating hold evaporates entirely and his momentum carries him face first into the top turnbuckle! Biff winces at the sensitive pain, while Mel takes a moment to regroup. Having quickly recovered, Shampoo measures his distance, juts forward and lambastes Melvin with a mighty right cross to the chin. Fortunately Mel has a granite (as a opposed to a glass) chin, and is able to shake the damage off. Before Atlas can lob another hard hitting punch, Mel tries to calm the sociopath down with the sleeper hold Atlas himself used moments ago. He has about as much luck as Biff did, which is to say none at all. The powerhouse from the left coast meets no difficulty in wrapping his arms around Mel's slender waist and clutching onto him like the world's largest leech. He hoists the body women around the globe are drooling over into the air and prepares to destroy him with a back suplex! But the gallant hero turns the tables on the miscreant villain, back flipping out of the move!

TERRY
Mel and Biff engaging in a bit of one upsmanship!

ALIX
What do you call it if they both fail miserably at what they were trying to do? One downsmanship? One terrytaylorship? Important questions that can only be answered by making out with this sorority girl behind me.

Atlas proceeds to whip Melvin off into the ropes. Mel bounces back,  not as the victim, but as the attacker, tossing himself at the nutrition expert with a graceful cross bodyblock! In a scene oft repeated in the world of pro grappling, the big man catches the little man within his king size arms. Biff nods to a smiling Mackie, and proceeds to propel Melvin overhead with a grade A fallaway slam! However, Melvin avoids disaster, landing on his feet! Pulling himself together he dashes at an irate Biff, who is more then happy to try and knock him into the stoneage with a clothesline! But Hell Mel ducks underneath the attack, and carries himself to the corner. As camera flashes litter the tightly packed venue, he escalates to the top turnbuckle and slings himself off with a beautiful flying back elbow! Yet Biff has enough sense and speed to sidestep the nose-diving grappler. As an unfortunate result Melvin hits the mat with a massive impact, music to the ears of those in the NRG camp. Mumbling him to himself like a crazed drunk, Atlas crawls over to Mel, and hooks his legs for a cover.

MACKENZIE
1

MACKENZIE
2

Mel kicks out, pulling his shoulder high off the mat, eliciting a grand response from the capacity crowd. When both competitors reach their feet, Atlas flings a booming lariat directly at Melvin's handsome mug. Nerdly thankfully ducks it, leaving Shampoo to clumsily careen forward to the ropes. Sly Marvin is waiting for the musclebound superstar, who seems incapable of hitting the breaks before a grizzly fate befalls him. The Marv underhandedly yanks the ropes down, and Atlas' 287 pounds take a horrendous, but laughable, tumble to the outside mats! Mackenzie is left distraught, but there are about twenty drunk frat boys who are offering a shoulder (among other things) for her to cry on. The quick moving camera man gets an excellent shot of Biff's beet faced agony, as the not so clever crowd chants “Biff sucks” in the background. Meanwhile in the squared circle, NRG's leader Flex Phillips has reintroduced himself to the proceedings! Buzzlefoxer allows this illegal entry to go unchallenged, as the move that took Biff out of the ring wasn't exactly of the legal persuasion itself! 

KRISTA
Poor Biff Atlas. With a name like that the only jobs he could ever get is bodybuilder, wrestler, or the lead role in Dorm Room BUTT Buddies.

Trying make up for his earlier abysmal showing, Phillips takes a quick stride forward, wielding an elbow smash. Hell Mel intercepts the oncoming attack with a swift boot to the gut. Coughing and wheezing, Flex is left bent over, and is easy pickings for Mel's sunset flip! The fans' prepare to erupt with cheers for the pinfall, and Mackenzie even hops onto the ring apron to divert the ref. But Flex renders all those actions futile, solidly remaining on his feet despite the forceful tug on his aqua colored tights. Phillips looks down on a grounded Melvin like some kind of vengeful roided up antichrist. He gazes with bitterest gall on the character who's blood is about to adorn his enormous fist. Grinning with predatory glee, Flex drills a ferocious punch towards Mel's lovely face! Thankfully, Hell Mel slides through Flex's legs, and the meathead's hand smashes into the ring floor instead of  into his nose! Flex recoils in tremendous pain, as Mackie shakes her head in blatant disgust at his incompetence. Back on his feet, Mel sneaks up behind the larger athlete, and pounds him with razor sharp forearms! The strikes leave bright welts on Phillips' coffee colored skin and double him over. Nerdly slides Flex's arm through his legs, and holds onto it, preventing any escape. He hooks Flex's other arm, putting him into a perilous pump handle position. Hell Mel then humiliates Flex in front of millions of viewers world wide by making like the Road Dogg and furiously pumping his crotch into Flex's firm buttox! After the sodomozation of Flex concludes, Mel lifts the embarrassed Phillips up and plants him on the mat with a marvelous pump handle slam! 

TERRY
I for one can not believe the Sk8er Boiz have managed to out power NRG. I also can't believe I've made it this far without you two robbing me of my self respect and will to live. This is the best day of my life!

While the crowd rocks the arena with chants of “SK8 OR DIE”, Melvin, bursting with pride, kips himself up. The bonafide hottie makes the day of millions of women by ripping off his form fitting shirt and exposing his gorgeous six-packed stomach to the salivating viewing audience. The orgasmic cheers for Mel's spicy flesh show are totally deafening. On the outside, Los Diablos have practically passed out from an overload of erotic ecstasy!

ALIX
(Standing on the sofa, drunkenly waving a five dollar bill the air)
Awww yeah, baby! Mister Lincoln says your pants gotta go next! He emancipated the slaves, now he wants to emancipate your ass!

Mel kisses his shirt and throws it into the stands, setting off a free for all as fans and Los Diablos fight for the clothing article that's sure to fetch a pretty penny on E-bay. As Mel turns his attention back towards the ring, he 360s in the air following a thunderous clothesline from the tree trunk-like right arm of Biff Atlas. Admist Marv's pandering to the crowd, Flex was able to roll to his corner undetected and tag out. Atlas scoops Mel up and Snake Eyes him on the top turnbuckle. Mel's head disturbingly snaps back as it violently collides with the turnbuckle pad. 

TERRY
That may have done it right there, girls. Biff makes the cover. 

ONE...

TWO...

TH-- KICKOUT!

Biff jogs to his corner with his hand outstretched. He continues to jog in pace, angrily punching himself in the head, as Flex takes a bite of the NRG apple cinnamon powerbar handled to him by Mackenzie DeCenzo before accepting the tag. Flex latches onto the top rope and swings into the ring, showing great agility for a man his size. Flex trots over to Mel and knocks the air out of the Boi with a double stomp. Phillips mischievously glances to his corner and says with a smile, "5 minutes of cardio," then proceeds to run in place on Mel's stomach! Needles to say, the spectators are most certainly opposed to this unique offensive move! 

ALIX
(singing)
He's a manic, manic...!

TERRY
It's like one of those outdoor woodsmen shows on ESPN. A logroll. It's been ages since I've seen a wrestler use a logroll. The last guy I remember using the move was Big Josh. 

KRISTA
Didn't he become a professional clown for a short while?

TERRY
Yes he did. 

Much like the booing fans, The Marv has seen enough! A 5'8 ball of fire, he rushes to his bro's aid and levels Flex from behind with a forearm shiver. While the spectators chant Marv's name, Phillips shakily rises to a knee holding the back of his neck, rudely demanding that old Clem get Marv out of the ring. As the geriatric referee does so, NRG sneakily double up on defenseless Mel. They feverishly stomp the chest and six-pack abs of Mel's, bringing him up to his feet and firing a member of Teen People's Sexiest Tag Team to the ropes for a STANDING FLAPJACK! The females in the crowd and Los Diablos shriek in horror as Mel is shot some 8-10 feet in the air and lands hard on his stomach. Shouting a batch of unintelligible jibber-jabber, Biff jogs back to his corner and does jumping jacks on the apron as Flex covers Hell Mel. Referee Clem Buzzlefoxer goes down to count, but suddenly grasps his chest. The arena falls into an errie silence. Silent and heartfelt prayers for the man's safety are whispered by the god fearing. Clem then shakes his head and counts...

TERRY
:lol: Good ol' Clem cheated death yet again. Congrats, buddy.

ONE...

TWO...

THR-- NO! 

"YEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"

TERRY
Mackenzie DeCenzo screaming at Clem, saying the 5 seconds it took for him to realize he wasn't having a heart attack cost NRG from getting the 1-2-3. She may have a point there. 

KRISTA
She has a couple of pointers, all right. But I just realized. If she and Flex ever got married, her name would be Mackenzie Phillips. 

ALIX
I'm not as old as you-- I mean, I'm young and native, so I don't get it. 

KRISTA
There's a lot of things you don't get, sweetie. One of them is great sex. But we'll take it "One Day At A Time."

The 5'9 human tank, Biff “Shampoo” Atlas is tagged back in, and makes his presence felt, punishing Mel with repeated short-arm clotheslines before shoving him back and drilling him in the jaw with a BIG BOOT.  Mel suffers a violent plummet to the mat, wondering if he's minus any pearly whites. Shampoo drops down on him with a cover.

ONE...

TWO...

THREE-- NO! 

Thankfully Mel got the foot on the ropes just in the nick of time. Barking of an ensemble of unprintable obscenities, Atlas places Hell Mel in a standing headscissors, then lifts him up in the air for a Canadian Backbreaker, but the agile Nerdly twin rolls through and takes an alarmed Biff down with a sunset flip! 

CROWD
ONE...

CROWD
TWO...

THR-- Biff kicks out and levels Mel with a diving clothesline. Shampoo scrapes Mel's carcass off the canvas and rams him face-first into the top turnbuckle in NRG's corner, where a tag to Phillips follows. Flex RAWKS~! Mel with sharp right hands to the chest that threaten to tear away at Nerdly's fair skin. He roughly forces the Boi out of the corner and whips him across the ring. Mel comes back into a MILITARY PRESS SLAM...COUNTERED INTO A SMALL PACKAGE! 

CROWD
ONE...

CROWD
TWO...

THREE-- KICKOUT! 

“THAT WAS THREE! THAT WAS THREE!” scream the crowd, now wishing Clem had died of the heart attack!

KRISTA
Clem was definitely a little slow on the count. But having two straight encounters with the grim reaper tends to give a man pause.

Mel's face is steeled by determination, he knows in his heart that he's [i]this[/i] close to capturing victory. But he never gets an opportunity to act on that intuition because Flex belts him with a kick to the midsection as he attempts to stand. Phillips moves fast, trapping Melvin into a front facelock then dragging him up with a vertical suplex. But Mel thrills the Arizona crowd when he floats over and rolls up Phillips!

CROWD
ONE...

CROWD
TWO...

KRISTA
Flex kicks out! Two slow counts from Clem. Maybe he's forgotten what comes after two. It's happened to Alix before!

As the crowd lustily disagrees with the count, Flex kicks Mel off to the ropes, where a bloodthirsty Biff Atlas waits impatiently on the apron. As Mel nears, Shampoo sticks his shoulder through the ropes, but showing the mark of a cagey veteran, Mel slides under the bottom rope and through Biff's legs. From outside he grabs Atlas' legs and pulls him down, causing Biff to smash his scrunched up face on the ring apron. While Biff howls in stinging pain, and Mackenzie berates him for his uselessness, Nerdly positions himself onto the apron. He ascends to the top rope, only to get caught with a POWERSLAM as he went for a springboard crossbody!

ALIX
Oh no! Come on Melvin! Or Marvin. I can't really tell them apart.

Not at all sympathetic to Biff's plight, Flex gruffly summons him back into the ring. The two powerhouses planning their next move with nothing but eye contact. No words spoken. NRG pound Mel with hammering forearm shots to the back and then bench press him up in the air. 

TERRY
They call this the NRG Burst. A double-team press slam into double gutbuster. They hit this and it's over. 

Biff and Flex drop Mel, who shocks them by somersaulting in mid-air and giving both members of NRG a HAPPY ENDING (Ace/Diamond Cutter)!

"YEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"

TERRY
Wow! 

KRISTA
This has turned into quite the exciting match. 

ALIX
I thought the only excitement I'd get out of this was seeing 4 ripped sweaty guys grappling with each other. 

KRISTA
The homorotic undertones of this sport must make men uneasy. 

The voluminous bodies of Nutrition's Real Gurus are strewn across the canvas as poor Mackenize turns distraught over the depressing state of affairs. While Mel makes an arduous push to his station, she screams for her charges to stand up and fight. Yet her shrill orders do not move the men to action, and Hell Mel continues his trek uninterrupted. The hot tag isn't as dramatic as it normally is, but the fans don't care. They're overjoyed to see Mel bring in his partner! The Marv comes in like a cat on a hot tin roof. Phillips eats a solid right hand but recovers quickly to return the favor with a major league lariat! Yet Marv catches his fast moving an arm, and turns his momentum against him, cruelly dropping the buff grappler back across his outstretched knee! Marv then turns his violence focused attention towards Biff, who looks like a dear caught in headlights, and peppers him with a trio of right jabs. The curmudgeonly redneck tries to stagger away, but Marv's not letting him off that easy, nailing him with an inverted atomic drop! As Biff's blue eyes fill with salty tears, Marvin adds injury to insult, flogging him with a gorgeous flipping dropkick that flings his 257 pounds through the orange ropes and back to the outside. While the front row fans taunt his fallen comrade, Flex stuns Marv from behind with a knee to the lower back. Using his strapping strength he pushes Marv by the shoulders into the corner where he blisters him with a round of scathing right forearms. After he completes his ugly yet effective assault, the Floridian shoots him to the far turnbuckle and follows in, but The Marv runs up the turnbuckles and catches Phillips with a MOONSAULT PRESS!

CROWD
ONE...

CROWD
TWO...

THRE-- KICKOUT! 

Both wrestlers rise upright, with Marvin moving a hare faster then his rival. As such he seizes control of the contest with flesh searing knife edge chops. Feeling Flex sufficiently weakened, he boots him in the stomach with a spinning back kick! As Marv sets up for the inverted Stunner he calls the [b]G-Spot Jiggy[/b], busty Mackenize leaps onto the apron distracting the referee. This well timed diversion allows a desperate Flex to KICK him in the GROIN. The females in attendance don't hold back in booing the disgraceful cheap shot. Over on the ring apron, Clem, who's once potent sex drive may have gone the way of the dodo, decides he still fancies the comforts of a foxy lady. Mackenzie is ready to step off the apron but can't as Clem insists he help her down by groping the young beauty! 

KRISTA
What a sick and sad old name he is. 

TERRY
Not as sick and sad as that ASSHOLE, Ned Blanchard!

KRISTA
Don't patronize me.

As Clem and Mackenzie struggle with each other, Flex sends Marv to the ropes and takes him up for spinning sideslam known as the [b]FLEX CAPACITATOR[/b], but Marv counters it with a TILT-A-WHIRL HEADSCISSORS that sends Flex unwillingly running straight for Clem. Unable to see what's charging behind the groping referee, Mackenzie rudely shoves her sexual harasser to the side! Problematically she no longer has an eighty year old man to serve as her meat shield, and Flex runs full force into her voluptuous chest, launching the raven haired harlot clear off the apron! The impressive bump gets a mixed reaction to go up among the crowd. 

KRISTA
The lesson here, ladies: Always let the pervy old men molest you.

ALIX
Works for me at family reunions!

Like a giant redwood falling through a Northern Californian forest Flex timbers back with a resounding thud! He tries his damnedest to pick himself, but his immense strength fails him when he needs it the most.  Matters go from bad to worse for Phillips as a top rope based Marv comes screaming off with an insanely high risk REVERSE DIVING HEADBUTT!! The exact nanosecond Marv's cranium crashes into Phillips' oiled up body the muscleman's face goes blank and his hopes of winning this first round Anderson Cup match go up in multicolored flames. The suffer of a terrible migraine, Marvin slowly drapes his arm over Flex's expansive upper body, and Clem hits the mat for the count. The fans are on the edge of their seats, praying to every higher power they know that this will be the decisive pinfall!

CROWD
ONE...

CROWD
TWO...

CROWD
THREE! 

* DING DING DING *

"YEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"

BUFFER
Ladies and gentlemen, here are your winners: THE SK8TER BOIZ!!!!!!

The camera immediately cuts to a shot of Mackenize, sunk to her knees, angrily beating her fist into the black ring mats, and damning the world for this cruel twist of fate! Meanwhile in the ring, the Boiz are in an understandably celebratory mood. High fives are exchanged, while the audience and Los Diablos continue to bleat their victorious name. As for the two in ring competitors of NRG, a hysterical Biff collects his dazed and confused associate, then storms up the ramp, ranting and raving like some kind of bum on a street corner. Mackenzie dejectedly follows behind, grumbling to herself, sounding only slightly less insane then Biff.

KRISTA
Wow! I feel like a proud parent. The Sk8er Boiz wrestled this entire contest with confidence. They weren't scared or worried like they used to be when they competed. Today, we saw that a little self confidence goes a long way in making your dreams come true. Congrats to Marvin and Melvin. This match was even better then that April Fools joke we played on you, Terry.

ALIX
And unlike the joke, this match didn't render you unable to father children! But look on the bright side, dude, no woman would have sex with you, anyway! Except for me. I'm easy like an easy bake oven.

TERRY
Well, there you have it fans. The Sk8er Boiz have beat NRG, that means they now go on to face ThunderKid and Reject. The winner of that match will pair off against the winner the Los Diablos and Heavenly Rockers bout. In the MWC conference The Sooner Bruisers will meet the undefeated Team Heyross.

KRISTA
And in the other MWC semi final matchup, The red hot cowboys the Lonestar Gunslingers will square off against Black T. 

TERRY
The Slingers looked very impressive in their upset victory over Christian Wright and Bohemoth, but I don't see them getting past Black T. Girls, it's been a pleasure! This time I'm saying it because I mean it, and not because I'm afraid you'll beat me up. Thank you for being out here this Thursday night.

ALIX AND KRISTA
Our pleasure! Bye, Terry!

(The two walk off, right as Caboose and Cole appear to reclaim their spots. Caboose is carrying a large diet peps and a foam Heavenly Rockers guitar.

TERRY
Hey! I'm kinda starting to really like it here guys. I just may stay here with you. What do you say to that, Boo-Boo?

(Caboose sets down his Diet Coke and picks up his baseball bat. That's all the motivation Taylor needs to haul ass. Sadly he fails to realize that COD taped a “THROW THINGS AT ME!” sign to his back before they left, and is pelted by debris from the crowd as he makes his way backstage.)

COLE
Caboose, shouldn't we untie Coach?

CABOOSE
Man, Terry Taylor really messed up my BUTT groove. Coach? What's the rush? He's just going try and sniff where Alix and Krista were sitting.

Edited January 27, 2006 by Patty O'Green

[Patty O'Green 0]

Me hate internet!