HD:SK8rz VS NRG VS Bo and CW VS GUNSLIGNERS

[Patty O'Green 0]

Hi! Nice to see you, loyal reader! It's not so hot, but oh well. At least it got little used characters on screen.

 

[i][b]Well woman the way the time cold I wanna be keepin' you warm[/i][/b]
Twelve female dancers clad in costumed maid outfits are positioned on the entrance stage, six on each side of the door. The house lights morph from a sea green, to a darkened [color=#E56717][b]orange[/b][/color]. The remarkably attractive dancers begin writhing their bodies to the bumping testament of Sean Paul's [i]Temperature[/i]. The doors pull apart, showcasing teen idols, Marvin and Melvin Nerdly! This appearance of the alluring hunks scores a chorus of ear splitting screams from every woman in attendance! Cheers echo around the Sk8er Boiz, as they rhythmically bump n grind with the bevy of scantily clad dancers.

BUFFER
The following contest is for one fall and it is a fatal four way match! Introducing first from Laguna Beach, California VIA Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, they are former tag team champions, and [i]Teen People's[/i] sexiest tag team .....The Marv, Hell Mel.......THE SK8ER BOIIIIZZZZZZZZ!

COLE
You heard what Buffer said, we have a four way tag match on tap for you tonight! The Sk8r Boiz went to Axel and demanded a match with Christian Wright and Bohemoth after what they did to Krista and Alix last week. But while the Boiz were in the office Mackenzie DeCenzo of NRG and the Lone Star Gunslingers busted in and began to complain about a lack of opportunities in the fed. Thus Axel decided to satisfy all their desires by making this four way match. The Boiz can get their hands on Wright and Bo and NRG and The Gunslingers have a chance to shine.

COACH
Here's a burning question, where was Leon Rodez when his old enemies Wright and Bohemoth were trying to lop his girl's hair off? Huh? Like I've always said, that kid is a chump.

A wave of shrieking girls gives the OAOAST's understaffed security force quite the workout, as they press up against the steel guardrail, each praying that they might be the one who can get their hands on the tanned skin of these beautiful Adonises. Mel, attired in dangerously low rise destroyed white jeans, strolls down the left side of the ramp, whipping the women into a frenzy with cute winks and sexy smiles. Dressed in similar pants, and a Mink fur coat, Marv cockily struts down the right side. He gingerly teases and taunts his worshiping fans, by opening his coat to reveal a hint of his glistening washboard abs, only to cruelly slam it shut the moment the girls go wild for the peek afforded them. Interesting, a cute woman with short blond hair, in worn out jeans and even more worn out Grateful Dead t-shirt, gingerly sits herself down at sofa central. The Boiz nod to their previously unnoticed valet, making her presence one that draws the curiosity of the fans.

COLE
Uh, excuse me, miss...

COACH
Shut up, Cole! There's a hot chick sitting next to me and I'm finally gonna score! Kick ass!

COLE
Please ignore him. He lives a lonely life. If you don't mind me asking, who are you?

WOMAN
Oh, I'm sorry. I'm new to this televised wrestling deal. Name's Melody Nerdly.

COACH
Ch-ch-check out my Melody indeed! Dayum!

COLE
Johnathan, don't make Caboose get out his bat. You're related to the twins?

MELODY NERDLY
Bingo, gringo. Nothing gets past you, I see. I'm their sister. Three years older and hundreds of years wiser. Check it out. I'm psychic. The next question on your mind is what is this strange Canadian doing out here? Am I right? You shouldn't call people strange. It's not nice. But I've come to the OAOAST to make sure my baby brothers aren't getting into trouble. I've gotta do my duty as a big sister and watch out for these guys. Plus these events are catered. That is too awesome. Food galore. With no mold. This gig sure beats sleeping on my pot-head ex-boyfriend's couch and eating six week old fudge brownies for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

CABOOSE
If you don't mind me saying, you look very normal for a Nerdly. I heard that with the exception of the new Marv and Mel, they were all..

MELODY
Dorks? Geeks? Nerds? Lames? Squares? All true. I got kicked out when I was seventeen. Lucky me or else I'd be at home popping the popcorn for the Nerdly's family weekly Futurama marathon.

The arena becomes cloaked in an unending darkness, save for one ominous spotlight resting on the entrance stage. The anthemic sounds that characterize the intro of [i]Slither[/i] come ripping through the speakers, pumping the entire venue full of adrenaline. Boo's come seeping down from every corner of the stadium as the doors pull apart to reveal the team of Christian Wright and Bohemoth! Wright stops underneath the harsh glare of the spotlight, letting the enormity of the spectators hatred and loathing bath him in a raging sea of negativity. When the song kicks up it's frantic tempo, he flips the hood of his robe backwards, showcasing his snarling visage to the world he despises so much. Bo, with black shorts with a green b on each side, stands next to him twitching his muscles, ready for action.

BUFFER
Introducing the second team...first from Raleigh, North Carolina, weighing in at two hundred and thirty three pounds he is the 2005 OAOAST rookie of the year...CHRIISSTIIIAAAAAAN WRIIIIIGHTTTT! And his partner from Greenville, South Carolina, weighing in at two hundred and eighty four pounds.....BOOHEMOOOOOOTH!

Wright throws his robe off entirely, leaving him cloaked in baggy blue cargo pants with a crucifix motif strolling down the left leg. He sinks down to his knees, and stares up to the heavens above as his song continues to turmoil throughout the venue. Bo merely cracks his knuckles, an intimidating sight on it's own.

MELODY
Christian Wright? A guy named after a religion has to have some serious issues. But who am I to talk? My last name is Nerdly and my first name is a musical element.

The house lights morph into a spooky darkness, as the arena is given light only by a humming green buzz shining around the entrance stage. The electronic prelude of Gavin Rossdale's ode to testosterone [i]Adrenaline[/i] is heard loud and clear over the state of the art system. Those in the crowd that recognize the music bring a group of jeers and taunts to the arena air. The black entrance doors marked by the OAOAST logo strewn across the front rip apart, and give birth to a massive litter of catcalls from the audience who are none too pleased to see [b]NRG[/b]. Biff Atlas, sporting a black cowboy hat , and crimson trunks, enters first, sneering at the disrespecting crowd. Mackenzie DeCenzo, showing off her splendid figure in hip hugging mini skirt and a two sizes to small yellow tank top, emerges next, snobbishly holding her head high. Finally Flex Phillips, leader of this ragtag bunch, saunters out, wearing bold yellow tights with the letters NRG etched across the back. The trio join hands and foist their arms into the air as a series of [color=#43C6DB][b]blue[/b][/color] pyro missiles explode around them and the crowd's disgust reaches it's greatest height.

BUFFER
Now making their way to the ring, accompanied by Mackenzie DeCenzo, first from Venice Beach, California, weighing in at two hundred and fifty seven pounds, he is the crown prince of hair care, BIFF “SHAMPOOOOO” ATLASSSS! And his partner from Fort Lauderdale, Florida, he has the body of a Mr.Olympia, and the mind of an Oxford scholar, weighing in at two hundred and ninety five pounds, he is FLEX PHILLLIPSSSSS! Together they are...Nutritions Real Gurus......N..R....GEEEEEEEEEEEE!

COLE
NRG still looking for their first victory here in the OAOAST. I don't know about Biff and Flex, but the futility happens to be driving Mackenzie mad. And as well all know NRG has had their issues in the past with the Sk8er Boiz. Melvin and Marvin knocked them out of the first round in the Anderson Cup.

MELODY
NRG protein shakes cause cancer.

COACH
Really?

MELODY
No I made that up.

The trio struts down to squared circle, certain that tonight will be the night they have their hands raised in victory for the first time here in the OAOAST. Biff tentatively gets into the ring, unwilling to take his eyes off his current foes. Flex is more vociferous, announcing his arrival to his competition, informing them that they have no chance against his dominating skills. Mackenize situates herself outside, ignoring the hooting and hollering from the horny drunks in the front row.

The stirring sounds of Ennio Morricone's [i]The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly[/i] enter the attentive ears of the viewing audience. As the imaginative instrumentation beats it's steady war cry, the entrance doors open to reveal rookie sensations, The Lonestar Gunslingers. Outfitted in matching white trunks with burnt orange kneepads, the duo walks to the ring with little in the way of preamble or showmanship. Only Baron seems to stand out, with his off white jacket with the state of Texas delicately embroidered on the back. Jock carries a lasso, while Baron clings to a branding iron. I'm not so sure I wanna know what they plan on doing with those two items!

BUFFER
Now making their way to the ring from the Lone Star state, Jock Mulligan, Baron Windels...THE LONE STAR GUNSLINGERS!

Buffer's announcement is exclamated by a fine pop from those women who like their men to come on the wild side. The hunky roughriders hit the ring, where the rest of their testy competitors await.

CABOOSE
These two are all business in the way they operate. And they've already picked up upset victories in the Anderson Cup over Black T as well as Christian Wright and Bohemoth. I'm sure Wright and Bo have not forgot about that.

Elderly referee Clem Buzzlefoxer scurries about the ring as fast as decrepit old legs will carry him, trying to create some semblance of order so that the match may get underway. However the eight warriors seem more inclined to engage in macho posturing then an athletic competition. Marv and Christian stand nose to nose, fuming furiously, each hitting the other with a plethora of vulgarities. Bo and Melvin do the same, Mel's fist cocked, just waiting for Bo to give him a good reason to knock his lights out. NRG and The Gunslingers have their own verbal spat, Flex very animated, dancing across the squared circle like a hyena on speed, begging someone to take a swing at him. Biff seems to be the calmest of a hot headed group, and ushers his hyperactive ally out the ring. The Gunslingers leave as well, never taking their eyes off Flex who's cussing like my mom did when my sister told her she was a lesbian. Melvin and Marvin peel out of the ring, figuring they're chance to deal with CW and Bo will come soon enough. Wright exits simply because he doesn't feel like do any actual work. That leaves Bo to start the contest with fellow big man Flex. The bell is rung and we are finally underway.

DING DING DING

The fans murmur with anticipation for what should be an epic showdown between these walking giants. Flex stretches his impressive muscles as he sizes up Bohemoth with a disregarding sneer. He casually steps forward for a common lockup, but Bo will have none of that basic hold and plants a boot into Phillips' midsection. The native of Fort Lauderdale doubles over in pain, leaving his dome wide open to a solid left hook from Bohemoth. The shot dizzies Biff and makes him easy pickings for an Irish Whip. As Flex bounces off he collects his bearings quick enough to effort a lariat Bo's way. However Bo ducks underneath it, and the cameras pickup a whoosh sound as a result of Flex's miss. Put off balance by his “swing and a miss”, Flex clumsily turns around where the Meterosexual monster awaits with a knife edge chop. That one single attack gives birth to a huge welt on Flex's coffee colored skin. Flex winces in understandable agony, leading Bo to gleefully decide to dump a little salt onto his wounds. He stretches out to his full six feet eight inches and flexes [b]DA MOTHER FUCKING GUNZ, YOU PUNK ASS BITCHES[/b], taunting the former body building great. Those fans who aren't turned on by “bears” boo Bo's bit of showboating.

“BO SUCKS! BO SUCKS!”

Bo's innocent non verbal insult has Flex seeing red. With hatred that's hotter then Kate Beckinsale in a bikini, Flex horsewhips Bo with the most vile chop he can muster! SMAAACK! The damage of the move is severe, ripping away at Bohemoth's tanned skin, leaving droplets of blood in it's place and pushing the monster back several inches. Sporting an arrogant grin, Phillips saunters towards Bo, getting right in his face so that the Upstart can have a madness inducing look at his [b]MOTHER FUCKING GUNZ, YOU BITCH MADE ASS FAGGOTS[/b]! 

“OOOOOOH” goes the crowd, responding to the homoerotic game of oneupsmanship. Mackenize on the other hand is more concerned with the game of Tetris on her cellphone then what's going on the ring.

Bo reacts as if Flex just kicked his dog, putting a crazed look of indignation on his face, and frothing at the mouth. He stabs Phillips in the stomach with a terrific side kick, then grabs hold of his wrists so that he can hurl him to the ropes. But Flex has enough wrestling know how to shift his weight and reverse the simple move. Bohemoth hits the ropes, unsure of what to do on his return. Problematically Flex isn't nearly as indecisive. He ducks, takes hold of Bo's tree trunk sized leg, then hurls him straight into the air, only to jerk him back down to the canvas with a flap jack! Unable to properly prepare for the move, Bo takes a cringe worthy nose first landing, that has the crowd shuddering and the Boiz laughing like drunkards. As his horrible collision replays in a tiny box at the lower left corner of the screen, Bothemoth clutches his nose, checking to see if the damned thing isn't broken.

COLE
So, are all of your real last names Nerdly?

MELODY
Unfortunately. We had such a terrible time of it! Our poor eldest brother Maurice was constantly being given wedgies, stink eyes, having his underwear hung on the flag poles.

CABOOSE
Kids can be so cruel.

MELODY
Kids? This was happening when he worked for Microsoft!

Flex takes a hold of Bo's arm, and pulls him upright, making sure to soften him up with back elbows as he does so. He attempts an irish whip to the Slingers' corner, but the sizable strength of Bo overpowers him into a reversal. Flex slams into the corner, but takes the brunt of the impact with his booty, meaning he's not quite as injured as Bo, who's bulling towards him with a body splash, would like to believe. The Upstart soon finds out that his foe is as right as rain when Flex drops down and disrupts his charge with a drop toe hold. Bohemoth, again unable to prepare a defense, has an unprotected face first meeting with the pads. This grotesque attack has a terrible aftermatch on his nose, which now looks about as normal and healthy as a dead skunk on the side of a Missouri road. While Buzzlefoxer inquires about Bo's less then optimal health, Flex tags in the cowboy stud muffin, Jock Mulligan.

COLE
From their previous outings it looks like The Gunslingers have a bright future here in the OAOAST. But if that doesn't work out they sure have a bright future in my bedroom! Ride me, cowboy!

MELODY
WTF?

Jock agilely leaps over the ropes, ready to finally make a name for his tag team here in the OAOAST. But Bo, who's temper has reached the point of no return, thinks Jock's name would look better on a tombstone as opposed to a marquee. Thus he lights the Texan up with a succession of knife edge chops, each one drawing the requisite whoo's from the audience. The fifth and final chop lands with such amazing ferocity that it knocks Mulligan flat on his back, and has the heartthrob seeing swirling stars above his head. Thanks to his rival's prone state, Bo is allowed to make an unhindered tag to the permanently unhinged, Biff “Shampoo” Atlas.

COLE
How has the rest of your family taken Marvin and Melvin's sudden change of personality?

MELODY
Not too well actually. A whole bunch of forgetting where you came from, thinking you're too good for your roots, the usual coming of age, breaking the mold bullshit. The annual Nerdly family Yu-Gi-Oh tournament sure wasn't as lively without Mel and Marv around.

Biff's arrival into the match is greeted with the sound of half the audience leaving to go to the concession stands. Atlas is promptly seized upon by a now recovered Mulligan. Jock dazes the Venice Beach native with a series of stinging jabs to the cheek, then puts his dizzied foe on the run with an Irish whip. The cables bounce Biff back, and he has a lariat waiting with Jock's name on it. But all the planning in his head is for naught, as Jock simply lowers his lanky body and slices Biff like a pizza cutter with a beautiful standing spear! Upon plummeting to the mat Atlas instantly curls up into a ball, nursing his badly wounded midsection, and pleading for Mackenzie to come rescue him. A highly annoyed Mackie screams out a wealth of instructions, none of which translate into Biff doing anything more then sucking his thumb and crying like an unwashed baby.

MELDOY
I get it. He's doing a Linus from Peanuts gimmick. Linus always sucked his thumb and had that blanket. But Biff's only crying not because he's hurt, but because he doesn't have his blanket.

Still smarting from that unexpected spear, a crying Biff stands up, his lack of equilibrium stumbling him backwards. Jock stalks him to the edge of the ring and catches him with an Irish whip that sends him to the other side of the battleground near the Sk8er Boiz corner. Biff never thought he'd think this, but he thanks god for the Nerdly twins' presence, as they give him an easy way out of the match. He slaps Marvin across the face, a rather rude tag, then hauls ass out of the ring as fast as humanely possible. The front row fans give him an earful for his blatant display of cowardice. He responds by brazenly threatening to “smoke all yer asses”. But when a fan, an eight year old girl in a Tony Brannigan basketball jersey, takes him up on his offer he cowers in legitimate fear that is both laughable and depressing at the same time. Elsewhere Mackie is tearing her hair out due to the frustration these idiots she's been forced to manage are causing her.

MELODY
Hey, you boys wanna hear a joke?

CABOOSE
Sure!

MELODY
So do I. (awkward silence) That's the joke, that there is no joke! Hhahahaahha! Funny, eh.

CABOOSE
That joke was terrible. If you change your name to something that starts with a C you'll fit right in here.

Back in the ring, Marvin's entrance into the battle evokes a breathtaking amount of cheers from the rabid teenage girls in the stands. The twin milks the pop for all it's worth, fluffing his long brown hair, making the blond highlights dance under the shimmering arena lights. Perhaps feeling a little jealous that Marvin has the hotties wrapped around his little finger, Jock dashes to him with a Stan Hansen worthy lariat. Unfortunately he doesn't have a Hansen worthy connection as the Boi ducks the attack. Yet the avoidance doesn't deter Mulligan. It merely makes him more determined to knock his enemy back into the ice age and he spins around with a discus punch. Unfortunately Marvin, with his cat like agility, draws first blood, nailing him with a majestic flipping dropkick. Mulligan hits the mat with a resounding thud, his head violently snapping off it like a basketball. But no one seems to be paying his aggravation much attention. Everyone's eyes are focused on Marvin, who's running his hands along his sexy abs, whipping the females (and a lot of the males) into an orgasmic ecstasy.

“SK8 OR DIE! SK8 OR DIE!”

Jock is on his feet, and is now simmering with hatred for the popular babyface. He leans into Nerdly with a straight left cross that Marvin takes in stride, firing off a right hook of his own in response. Unfazed by the punch, Jock returns fire with a forearm. The strike pushes Marv back several inches and leaves him stunned for a precious few seconds. But these few seconds are all Mulligan needs to snag Nerdly into a tightly held front facelock. He drops backwards and mashes the Sk8r's sexy face into the mat with a DDT. While his foe desperately tries to remember just what city he's in, Jock lays his arm across Marv's sculpted chest for the first pin of the contest.

ONE

Marvin kicks out and the volume of the arena rises as a result. Figuring that he can let someone else do the work and get a sneak pin later, Jock makes a tag to Christian Wright. The capacity crowd is nuclear with hatred and disgust for the nefarious villain But Wright simply stands on the apron with a conceited smirk, soaking up their venom. Unfortunately for him Marv is itching to score a measure of revenge for his friends in COD. So he makes a beeline to Wright, grabs a hold of the man's thick noir hair, and flings him over the ropes and into the squared circle. While Marv's actions has the blood lusting crowd rejoicing, they set Wright on the rampage. He pops up and pelts the mega hottie with a series of right crosses. Each punch gets a boo from the audience as it lands. Thankfully Marv is able to break up the lopsided slug fest by rifling a thudding knee into his foe's midsection. Holding his stomach with his left arm, Christian groggily stumbles from side to side, in dire need of a barf bag. Marv continues to feed his desire to crush the self-righteous grappler, and grabs his free arm into a half nelson. From there he leaps forward, awkwardly tugging Wright along with him, and smashing him face first into the ring floor with a half nelson face crusher! CW yelps in distress as a sharp pain spreads throughout his mangled face.

MELODY
Whoo! Way to go Marv! Just don't pin him. I have money riding on fancy man Wright and the jolly green giant.

COLE
You bet against your own brothers?

MELODY
They're Nerdlys! We're natural born losers.  Supreme failure is our special talent.

Marvin puts himself off the ropes, building up great a deal of speed as he races back towards his now standing rival. But Wright's reflexes are up to task of besting Nerdly and he easily catches Marvin upon his arrival in a front waistlock. In one smooth as a baby's behind motion, Wright bridges backwards and launches Marvin through the sky with a belly to belly suplex! SLAM! Marvin's landing is of the disgusting variety, his body shaking the ring to it's core upon impact. With the crowd shooting vulgarities his way, Christian makes them even angrier, showboating with a flashy pendulum elbow drop that hits perfectly on Marvin's rib area. A whimpering Marv is able to roll backwards, creating some distance between he and his adversary, allowing him to slowly rise upright. But CW closes the gap between them with one graceful stride and begins landscaping his chin with stiff forearms. Wright's intention seems to be to bust his meddlesome foe's handsome visage wide open. But when that proves to be more trouble then it's worth  he dejectedly moves into a front facelock. From there he foists Nerdly into the sky for a vertical suplex, using the tried and true technique of delaying the move to let the blood rush to Marv's head. But perhaps the moral highground stalls a second too long as Marvin uses his substantial agility to shift himself back down to the mat. Now on his feet, he captures a stunned Wright into a front face lock of his own. “FOR KRISTA!” Marv screams, popping the sell out crowd, before he takes his adversary for a vomit inducing ride with a tornado DDT! [b]THUD![/b] The ghastly sound of Wright's head crunching into the canvas calls forth a spirited round of applause from the fans.

CABOOSE
Melody, your brothers have really taking a liking to Krista...

MELODY
So have I. Without her exercise videos and Cole's home waxing kit I never would've got a prom date.

Wright staggers upright, mumbling obscenities under his breath. His mood is made even worse when Marvin grabs his wrist and attempts to whip him into the Nerdly corner. But the snobbish grappler reverses it and sends Marv into the turnbuckles instead. Utilizing a shoulder tackle, Wright rampages after him like a bull through the streets of Italy. But the hunky fighter simply ascends to the top rope, leaving CW's shoulder to be impaled onto the callous steel of the ringpost! An abhorrent clanking sound echoes throughout the arena, as a distressed Wright screams bloody murder at the top of his lungs.

MELODY
Jeez Louise, now I know why the bookie laughed at me when I told him I wanted to bet on pro wrestling. What a goof.

“YOU FUCKED UP! YOU FUCKED UP!” chant  fans to the 2005 OAOAST rookie of the year.

Certain that his shoulder is separated, Wright woozily stumbles around, seeking a tag from anyone who will give it. NRG, The Gunslingers, Bo. He doesn't care, he just wants freedom from the grueling tormentor that is Marvin Nerdly. Marvin is less then sympathetic to CW's plight, and delights in watching him suffer the same affliction he caused Krista and Alix last week. He tries to add more misery to Christian's existence, running towards him and elevating onto his broad shoulders for a hurricanrana. Despite the substantial hurt in his left shoulder, Wright has the strength to catapult the Laguna Beach native backwards. CW's hope is that Marvin will endure a hellish crash with the ringposts. But  to his chagrin no such fate befalls the Boi and he lands expertly on the highest pad. To make the situation even more troubling for the 24 year old Wright, Marvin comes ripping back at him with a top rope clothesline! The bomb hits it's mark with faultless accuracy, pushing poor CW to the canvas [i]and[/i] to the brink of insanity. While Wright to grouses about his misfortune, Marvin tags in his twin brother Melvin.

COLE
We see Melvin coming in, ready to get him some of Christian Wright. I'm sure he wouldn't mind getting his hands on Bo either. 

The ladies are tickled pink to see Melvin enter the fray. And he doesn't dare disappoint his adoring fanbase, rifling himself into the action with a springboard dropkick! The blow connects solidly with Wright's nose, crumbling him to the mat and drawing forth thick rivets of blood from his nostrils. Mel kips up and arrogantly bows to the clapping fans, while Bo reaches over the ropes senselessly attempting to [i]strangle[/i] him. Despite his poor state of health, Wright manages to will himself to his feet where he meets Melvin with three flailing right jabs. The super hottie returns fire with his own round of jabs and soon the two are locked into a full on slugfest. As no one will ever confuse Mel for Riddick Bowe, it isn't long before CW assumes the upper hand in their war. And a clonking elbow smash to the temple garners a victory for Wright. His prize is being allowed to snag his wobbly rival into a front facelock. Knowing full well how slippery these Nerdlys can be, Wright plants Melvin into the mat with a no nonsense snap suplex and immediately floats over for a pinfall.

ONE

TWO

Melvin kicks out right as the ref's hand hits two, generating quite the cheer of approval from the audience. After failing to get the three count on that last pinfall attempt, an exasperated Wright stands upright before his opponent has an opportunity to collect his bearings. Upon measuring Mel and zeroing in on the perfect target to hit, Wright leaps into the air and extends his knee out, dropping it onto the neck of Melvin as he lands! The twin painfully howls into the night sky, leading the worried spectators to clap their hands in unison to rally the babyface. However, Wright is back on his feet and itching to inflict more damage to the Sk8r. He backs into the ropes, and bounces off, once again jumping as he nears Melvin's weakened body. This time he extends his leg out fully and sadistically smashes it across the neck of Nerdly. Melvin clutches his neck in response to the leg drop, convulsing violently on the sweat stained mat.  The short lived clapping goes extinct as the fans have lost hope that Melvin can comeback against the OAOAST's moral superior. Fortunately Nerdly will no longer have to deal with the calculating Wright, as [b]Baron Windells[/b] has tagged himself in, albeit not without protest from CW. The attractive cowboy tells a complaining Wright to “hit the road”, unwilling to listen to the Upstart's grievance.

CABOOSE
The Cowboy Heartthrob Baron Windels, out of Texas, stands six feet seven and is a rock solid two hundred sixty five pounds. He has the look of a future maineventer. Let's see if he has the skills.

Melvin stands up, erroneously thinking his beef is still with Christian. So he's more then a little surprised to have this six foot seven rough neck towering above him. Baron takes advantage of his moments shock and shoots him off into the ropes nearest Bohmoeth. Never one to pass up a chance to harm a despised rival, The Meterosexual Monster clubs Melvin on the back with a heat drawing forearm. Knocked tipsy, Melvin staggers forward like a town drunk and leaves himself open to a gorgeous flipping dropkick from his blue collar enemy! Melvin skids down to the mat, and the speedy Baron is right on him with a lateral press.

ONE

TWO

Biff Atlas breaks up the pinfall with a stomp to the nape of Baron's neck. Obviously this greatly displeases the twenty-six year old cowboy, and he directs a nasty glare Biff's way. Struck with fear by that one dirty look, Biff frantically dives through the orange ropes and outside the ring. As the crowd mocks him for his utter lack of bravery and Mackenzie contemplates the virtues of homicide, he curls up into a tiny ball, furiously praying to the good lord above that the mean man won't come and lay a beating on him.

MELODY
If this guy can be a wrestler then I can to. I mean I can throw weak punches and crap myself in fear after I see that they have no affect on my much larger and fiercer opponent. Heck, that's a Nerdly family talent that's been passed on through generations of sissies, geeks, girly men, and Nancy boys.

Back in the ring with the comparatively normal wrestlers, Baron shrugs off his qualms about the pin and rises to a vertical base. Melvin is soon to follow but gets forearmed in the chest as a result of his tardiness. His eyes water and his breath becomes short when another torrid blow lands on his chest. He totters from side to side, unable to mount a defense against Baron's vivacious brawling assault. Feeling his rival sufficiently weakened, Windels sweeps behind him and hooks him into a back suplex set-up. He hoists him into the sky, lifting him so high you'd swear he could touch the scoreboard. However at the climax of the hold, Melvin deftly slips out of it, landing perfectly on his feet. Baron, unsure of what just happened, spins around only to get flung halfway across the ring with an arm drag!

“MEL IS SWELL! MEL IS SWELL!” sings the audience.

MELODY
Thank you. Thank you. I love you to.

COACH
I think they're talking about your brother. Although ol Coach has got something that's swelling right here.

The arm drag actually does more harm then good for Melvin, as it outright infuriates his enemy. Baron stands up and roars back to the Nerdly twin, obliterating him with what might be the fiercest clothesline of the match. As a result Melvin folds up like origami, the life and color all but drained from his face. Windells makes a cover, pressing his forearm into Nerdly's neck to give himself a bit of an advantage.

ONE 

TWO

The pin is ended prematurely by a swift boot to back of Baron's shaved head from Flex Phillips. Incensed, Baron's head goes on a swivel, trying to spot the fool who cost him this bout. His query is answered by Flex's vulgarity filled challenges to fight. Unlike his crazy Biff, Flex seems to realize wrestling isn't just about wearing globs of baby oil and tiny little tights that show off your massive wang, it's also about fighting. However Baron refuses to be distracted by Phillips' invitation for a brawl, preferring to keep his focus on winning this bout. He zooms to the ropes nearest Bo and Wright in hopes of rebounding to hit Melvin with an elbow drop. But this plan is thwarted when Big Bo levels him his meaty forearm. Baron reacts as if he just had a piano dropped on his head, sagging to the mat and hollering in unbridled pain. Buzzlefoxer considers  the cheap shot to count as a tag and orders Bohemoth into the ring. Bo is more then happy oblige the request, eager to do more damage to the Nerdly twin.

COACH
My man! Finally getting back into the thick of things!

Bo scoops Melvin up, and after delivering two vile punches to the midsection he whips him to the ropes. Unlike the previous trips to the cables, Mel's journey is uninterrupted and he freely returns to a waiting knee to the stomach from the Upstart. He's taken head over heels, and suffers a cringe worthy neck first landing that has more then a few teenage girls in tears. Bo prepares to really crank up the adolescent water works, as he lifts Melvin up and places him into a standing head scissors. He crosses his arms under his beefy chest and then lifts him up so that he hangs horizontal to the mat. With the fans steady in their stream of hatred for him, Bo sits out and drops her back first to the mat, utilizing the deadly pyramid driver!

CABOOSE
I don't think I've ever seen Bohemoth use such a move before!

While the searing pain spreads throughout Mel's body, Bo hooks the outside leg for a pin.

ONE

TWO

Melvin kicks out, bringing forth cheers from the capacity crowd! Bohemoth is relentless, however, and once again takes hold of the outside leg for a pin....

ONE

TWO

His pinfall effort is kiboshed by an elbow drop from Jock Mulligan! Jock, remembering what Bo did to his partner just seconds ago, proceeds to downpour spite filled punches on the beast's noggin. It only takes a few seconds before Bo adapts to the attack, and he nonchalantly pitches Mulligan away. But the smoldering Jock is undiscouraged, and reattempts to gain revenge for his unit! However Buzzlefoxer quickly steps between him, as much to preserve order as to preserve the rookie's health.

COLE
Tempers are starting to boil over here on OAOAST HeldDOWN. Folks, let me remind you that Anglemania is just weeks away. And with your purchase you can get a [b]free[/b] Krista Isadora Duncan bobble head doll.

Thank you for that shill, Mikey! Back in the ring, Bohemoth makes a tag to Christian Wright, the duo seemingly employing a crafty hit and run strategy. Wright smugly meanders into the warzone while the crowd stones him with catcalls and jeers. He dishes out a trifecta of stinging stomps to Mel's noggin, as he arrogantly stares out at the rabid audience. Finished with his stompings, he sinks to his stomach where he's able to easily trap Melvin into a grounded facelock. Melvin instantly feels the horrible affects of this elementary hold, a crippling constriction on his neck and a difficulty in breathing. Five seconds into the move, Buzzlefoxer starts to inquire as to whether Mel wishes to submit or not. Of course Wright, who's turned the move into a subtle chokehold, answers for him, telling the Jurassic zebra that his foe has indeed given up. Marvin, bouncing like a ping-pong ball on the apron, screams for Wright to keep his “trap shut”.

COACH
Fellas, being on the mat in a frontface lock is never a good place to be. But when it's the 2005 rookie of the year who's got you in that front facelock then it's an even worse place to be.

Marvin leans over the cables, extending his arm as far as it can reach, desperate for a tag from his weary brother. The anxious audience takes up the cause of willing young Melvin to his corner, and  chants of his name become their war cry. Elsewhere, Flex stalks across the apron, cussing and hollering like a coked out hobo, directing every insult is vulgar mind can think of at both Melvin and Christian.

CABOOSE
Just look at Phillips and the way he talks all that trash and garbage. He's a right cocky one, he is.

In spite of the swell of support for his antagonist, Christian is able to quell any resistance, locking the plucky Sk8r down in the center of the ring. Salvation seems so far away for Melvin, as the entirety of his vision is engulfed by the baby oil and sweat drenched body of the former HI-YAH heavyweight champion. Wright squeezes on the hold as tight as the referee's overbearing rules will allow, making an act as simple as breathing a grueling effort for the Laguna Beach native. Knowing that his body can't stomach much more of this misery, Melvin takes up the arduous task of rising to his feet. Despite  Wright's best efforts to keep him grounded, he's amazingly able to stand, renewing hope within him and the audience. Sensing that his hold is rapidly deteriorating, Wright switches the position of his left arm, using it to trap Melvin's shoulder. This means the Boi is faced with an uphill battle, now forced to fight back as a one armed man. Desperation and worry lining his face, Melvin tries to counter with a hail mary back drop. But Wright holds his ground, and effortlessly brings Mel back down to his level. He decides he's through with wasting his time with a  submission hold, and would rather splatter Marvin's brain matter across the mat with his finisher [b]Converting the sinner[/b]. He roughly jerks him into the air, but at the very height of the move the agile wrestler shifts his body free  and lands behind Christian!

MELODY
Whoo! I mean, wait I still have money riding on this....boooo!

Enraged, Wright whirls around to decapitate Melvin with a stiff discus punch. But Nerdly is one step ahead of him, lashing his face with a crowd popping haymaker! As Wright stumbles backwards, wondering how he lost the advantage so quickly, Melvin speeds to the cables. Upon bouncing back he tries to scissor his legs around Wright's waist. While he encounters success in that effort, Wright is easily able to assume control of the exchange by gripping onto Mel's legs and flipping him out into a waistlock. He then tries his damnedest to launch Melvin into the stratosphere with a German Suplex! However the Boi beautifully back flips his way out of disaster! Wright can't believe the audacity of this youngster and is beside himself with rage. Guided by his anger and not his superior intellect, he blindly charges Melvin only to eat an enziguri for his folly! The crowd roars their approval for Melvin's deadly maneuver. 

MELODY
You owe me thirty bucks you son of a bitch. Oh no, I just called my own mother a bitch.

Wright's had more then his fill of wrestling for one night, and begins a tiresome crawl to make a tag. Instead of heading to his corner, he travels towards The Gunslingers, who appear eager to reenter the battle. Christian is as pleased as punch to grant their requests. Unfortunately they rescind their offer as quickly as they made it, hopping off the apron the second he nears.  The spectators root on their sneaky tactic, but Wright is overcome by an extreme forlornness. With a his head held low he treks to the NRG corner and brings Flex Phillips back into the contest. Problematically for NRG's leader, Wright's escapades with the Slingers bought Melvin valuable seconds to head to his team's station. As such he thrusts the audience into a raucous frenzy when he applies a tag to The Marv!

“YEAAAAAAAA!”

Marv hits the ring, a 5'8 ball of skating and surfing fire! He plows through Phillips with a lariat, then takes out an incoming Wright with a superb spinning wheel kick! The fans are on their feet, boisterously cheering on the brazen gladiator. The Gunslingers are shown no mercy on Marvin's warpath, as he blasts them clear off the apron with wild left hooks. Finally the largest athlete in the OAOAST, Bohemoth, makes his presence felt once again., dashing towards the Nerdly twin with an axe handle smash! But this time Marvin is ready for him, and he crashes his charge to a halt with hate fueled boot to the stomach! Bo is left doubled over and dazed, and The Marv is quick to capitalize on his unenviable situation. He snares his much larger foe into a front ¾ facelock, then sits out, snapping Bo's head off his shoulder with his finisher [b]The G-Spot Jiggy[/b]! Bo timbers to the canvas like a redwood through a Northern California forest, holding his head and possibly needing a Tylenol. Marvin hooks Bo's leg for what everyone believes will be a match ending pinfall....

CROWD
ONE

CROWD
TWO

BROKEN UP BY A LEG DROP FROM JOCK MULLIGAN!

Marvin stands up and directs quite the virulent glare at the meddling Texan. And Jock soon feels the full wrath of The Marv's venom as Marvin temporarily cripples him with a surprise basement dropkick. This capsizes Jock to his knees and makes him a sitting duck for Nerdly's next cataclysmic move.  Marvin runs the ropes to build speed, and rushes back towards his foe. He presses his foot against his knee, using it as a launching pad. From there he takes to the skies and swipes the side of his boot along Jock's face! A grotesque mixture of blood and spit flies out of Jock mouth as he plummets back to mat, his night all but over. Marvin hasn't a second to celebrate the taming of the wild bronco as the vexatious Christian Wright has made his less then triumphant return to the ring. Wright stampedes towards Marvin, ready to decimate him with a shoulder block. Unfortunately he'll being doing no such thing tonight. Just as quickly as Wright reappeared, so does he exit as The Marv sidesteps his attack, grabs onto the back of his head and chucks him out of the squared circle!

“WRIGHT SUCKS! WRIGHT SUCKS!”

Marvin returns to the mission of slaying the beast known as Bohemoth. However he meets up with a cruel reversal of fortune as Bohemoth flat out demolishes him with a yakuza kick the exact second he turns around. As the crowd lustily boos his attack, Bo realizes he'll now have to deal with the ceaseless onslaught of victory hungry grapplers. His first challenge comes from a Baron Windells' crossbody block. Fortunately it's a challenge easily mastered for the Meterosexual Monster and he catches the six foot seven wrestler squarely in his arms. While Baron becomes wrought with understandable panic, Bo lifts him into a gorilla press position. The carnage thirsty observers holler with anticipation for what terrible fate Baron is about to meet. They certainly aren't let down in the least, as big Bo heaves Baron out of the ring so easily that it's as if the man weighed as much as a blue jay's feather. 

MELDOY
(singing)
Happy trails to you, until we meeeeeeet agaaaaain.

COLE
Baron is down! Holy lord!

Similar to Baron, Flex lacks the requisite intelligence to think twice before crossing the beast from the southeast. Phillips launches a strong overhand left that connects with Bo's nose, initiating a flurry of punches from the nutrition guru. However this spurt of offense from Flex is abruptly terminated by right cross from Bo that cracks across his orbital socket. Now Phillips is put on the defensive as Bo applies a tight front waistlock. He bends his knees for leverage as he begins the makings of a belly to belly suplex. However he can't quite acquire a secure grip around Flex's body, thus he executes a standing switch, thinking he'll have more luck with a German Suplex. Phillips attempts to shatter the hold with a fierce elbow to Bo's skull, but the Upstart frees his rival before the move can even connect. He spins an out of kilter Phillips around and nearly drives him through the ring with an earth shaking spine buster! Flex's body is drained of any sort of life and looks broken beyond repair. The audience murmurs in shock at the destruction Bo's one move has imposed on his opponent. Feeling a swell of swaggering pride, Bohemoth rises, and joyously beats his fists against his mighty chest. 

“YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK!”

On the outside Mackie slams her hands into the apron in utter disgust. She's at a loss to explain why her charges are such incompetent boobs so lacking in any noticeable talent or ability. Fortunately for her all is not lost! There is still hope alive for her squad. Unfortunately that hope comes in the form of a previously AWOL Biff Atlas. Biff, holding his finger to his mouth to shush the noisy  fans, comically creeps up behind Bo. He moves at a speed of an inch an hour, not wanting to draw the giant's attention and subsequent pain that will result. Sadly he didn't move quietly enough because the monster whirls to face him, startling the daylights out of Atlas! Now besieged by a crippling sense of panic, Biff makes an outrageous effort to get Bohemoth to spare his life, offering money, protein drinks, cars, hand jobs, anything! But none of these gaudy offerings will sway The Upstart in his quest for flawless victory. Snarling, he drapes Biff's far arm across his, causing the hysterical and weeping bodybuilder to wet himself out of fright. While the crowd delights in Biff's misfortune, Bo takes him and his piss soaked tights for rollercoasteresque ride with his finisher [b]The Erotic Awakening of Bohemoth[/b]. 

“I WANT MY MOMYYYYY!” Biff screams as she spins through the air!

[b]CRUNCH[/B]! That would be the awful sound of Atlas' bones being shattered against the rock solid mat. The laughable tears and the grisly look of worry are absent from Biff's face, now replaced by a blank stare as he succumbs to the bleak state of unconsciousness.

CABOOSE
Bohemoth making short work out of three very large men! Well, Biff is only five foot nine, so two large men and a large chicken. Melody, you may get your thirty dollars yet.

One would think that everything is coming up roses in the land of Bohemoth. Bodies strewn across the ringside area, and no lethal opposition for miles. However the person who thinks that probably doesn't have Melvin Nerdly's fist jammed into their [b]testicles[/b] like Bo does. Bohemoth hollers out in anguish as he topples to his side, rendered unable to take advantage of the devastation he's brought. He watches helplessly, paralyzed by testicular torture, as Melvin reaps his reward by pinning Biff. Of course, neither Atlas nor Nerdly are the legal men but who the hell cares? Not Clem Buzzlefoxer because he counts the pin! 

CROWD
ONE

CROWD
TWO

CROWD
THREE

Buzzlefoxer calls for the bell, as the cheers for pinfall rise in force! Mackenzie, unable to believe what she's just seen, storms up the ramp in a huff, muttering in language that is less then lady like.

MELODY
It's over! I'm out thirty bucks, but at least my brother's won. Who's this Bohemoth guy anyway? I bet money on a clown who can't stand a love tap on the nuts? What's up?

BUFFER
The winnners.....THE SK8R BOIZ!

COLE
Again not the best performance by Bohemoth. The big man has struggled lately and I can bet Axel won't be happy to see him fail once again.

The audience's good feelings are short lived, and bad vibrations quickly settle in due to Christian Wright reentering the ring. Taking umbrage both to the way the Boiz won this match and their actions from last week, Wright gets in the face of a celebrating Melvin. The two engage in a heated debate, screaming over the noise of the rowdy fans. Not surprisingly Wright manages to claim victory in this little argument. But not through his vast intellect. Rather he scores a win from a devious sucker punch. Melvin recoils for a second, then springs back with a punch of his own. Now their verbal spat has turned into outright physical warfare! But Melvin is soon overwhelmed when Bohemoth inserts himself into the fracas. Irate over the underhanded low blow, The Upstart's heavy hitter punishes his victim with a devastating spine buster!

MELODY
What the hell? Leave my brother alone!

The spectators are livid, and understandably so! Marvin makes a valiant effort to rescue his sibling, actually managing to tackle Wright with a spear! As the fans root him on, he rains punch after punch on Wright's face. The only thing the moral highground can do to defend himself, is cover up until Bohemoth yanks the energetic Sk8r off him. Taking a clump of Marv's hair, Bo readies to unleash his second Erotic Awakening of the night. But a gargantuan pop erupts from the stands as the fans spot [b]Chicks Over Dicks[/b], lacrosse sticks in tow (and a bottle of Jack Daniels in Kris' hand), darting down the ramp!

COLE
Here comes Alix and Krista!

COACH
Look at them bounce! I mean look at them run!

Choosing to avoid a conflict with weapon swinging madwomen, Bo and Christian duck out of the ring with their good health intact. They slowly back up the ramp way, trading ice cold stares with their rampageous  archrivals.

“C-O-D! C-O-D! C-O-D!” bleat the fans. Krista and Alix check on the injured twins, as Melody joins them in the ring. After making certain the Boiz are okay, the girls grab microphones.

KRISTA
(to Wright and Bo)
Where ya running to, kiddos? Those boots are made for walking, so have 'em walk ya back to where the party is, right here in the ring! We've got boiz, we've got girls, we've got Jack, we've got cowboys who can double as strippers, we've got lassos, and we've got branding irons, I'm sure we've got drugs, because if you look at the way Biff Atlas acts, you can see he's like a McDonalds Extra Value meal, he comes with the coke. 

ALIX
We've got everything you need to have a bitching time and attract the attention of various law enforcement agencies. Remember it's not a party unless your mug shot winds up on the smoking gun after it's over! So why don't ya come back so we can have some fun?

Wright blows Alix off, dismissing her with a wave of his hand.

ALIX
Awww, someone get me a scooper because we've got party poopers! If ya don't wanna boogie-woogie till ya can't boogie-woogie no more, if ya don't wanna party like it's 1999, if ya don't wanna rock out with your cock out and hang out with your wang out, if ya don't wanna do a little dance, make a little love and get down tonight, then hows about we do a lil something else? Hows about we have a match?  

Wright scoffs at such a silly request.

KRISTA
Look, we're gonna have to finish this feud sooner or later. And from what the girls tell us...

ALIX
Finishing sooner seems to be Bo's M.O! Heck yes, a gnarly dis and a sick rhyme!Bad Boy, Baby, 2006, please believe it! So what do ya say, Quick Draw McGraw? Oui ou non? Do we have a match, funky monkeys?

The audience pops for the potential match, and even Bohemoth seems willing to throw down. However Wright errs on the better side of caution, refusing to accept their challenge.

KRISTA
Maybe someone forget to text message me the info, but I swear this must be “gender role reversal week”. Because even though we're the women, you're the ones acting like bitches.

“OOOOOOOOH”

ALIX 
Seriously! Combined you both weigh a gazillion pounds more then us, Bo's nose alone is probably wider then my waistline and Christian's dandruff could equal Krista in body weight. But aside from using us as your final exam for barber college, you avoid us like Krista avoids a sobriety test!

KRISTA
Or like Alix avoids intelligent thought! We're not really getting it, Christian. If you're such eager beavers who want to prove how much better you are then us in all aspects of life, then instead of challenging Alix to debates that make [i]Larry the Cable Guy[/i] look like highbrow Moliere comedy in comparison, or trying to make us part of your audition for the day shift at SuperCuts, why don't you get into the ring and show us how much better you really are? Unless you're a little scared of us. It's funny, when you can sneak attack us and try to torture us with sharp objects, you're the OAOAST's Moral Highground and The Meterosexual Monster, and you won't let any bimbos like us go unpunished. But when we come to meet you face to face, ready for a fight, you turn into Courage the Cowardly dog and the Lion from Wizard of Oz. As an old Buddhist saying states, there is no such thing as good energy or bad energy, it's only how you perceive it. And right now Alix, I, and eighteen thousand of our closest friends perceive you two to be the biggest pussies on earth!

[b]“YEAAAAAAA”[/b] screams the crowd while Krista downs a swig of her liquor.

ALIX
We tried and tried to think of other ways to get revenge on ya'll, but everything we came up with would've wound us up on [i]Celebrity Justice[/i] and in the county blues. So in return for sparing you both a  well deserved trip to the city morgue we're asking for a match! Just one teeny tiny little itty bitty match! It doesn't even have to be in an OAOAST ring, it can be at a hair salon, it can be in a parking lot, it can be at Rite Aid, it can be at my mama's trailer, just not around the hours of two-three o'clock because that's when the pool boy comes over and she wants everyone out so he can get to work. Which is odd because she doesn't even have a pool. Weird! We can even have any stipulation ya want! Cage match, ladder match, lumberjack match, lumberjill match, lumber-we-dont-discriminate-against-people-based-on-their-prescribed-gender-roles
-thus-are-offering-everyone-an-equal-chance-to-be-a-lumberperson match. We can have a barbwire match, blindfold match, Judy Bagwell on a pole match which happens to be greatest invention since fat free edible panties, an inferno match, a scaffold match, a bra match, but [i]not[/i] a bra and panties match because I ate Krissy's panties only to find that not only are they not of the fat free variety, they aren't of the edible variety either! We can have a tables match, a taped fist match, or an empty arena match, in other words we can wrestle after GPX goes on, because those boys clear out the arena like someone called in an anthrax scare. We can have a Chamber Horrors match, an arm wrestling match, a strap match, a strap-on match, just stay away from Krissy, she goes into full-on crazy amazon queen with the hair pulling and drunken grunting, and the tiara and leoprard print face paint and the sharp spear she pokes your wabbit tail with. Anyway whatever stip ya want, you can have! Just call us Barbra Eden, because your wish is these genies' command. As long as it has the word match in it, we are down like Homey the clown. So just give us a freaking match! Pretty please with eighty billion chocolate covered cherries on top!

Again Wright is non committal, smirking at Alix's pleading.

KRISTA
Fine. Okay. Enough of the jokes, enough of the begging. Let me put down Ol Number 7 and let me get serious with you kids. Alix was being sweet, but now Krista's taken over and now the mood's all changed. After what happened last week, I now know that you two are excremental excuses for human beings who's skin would be better used as an overcoat to keep those who actually deserve to live warm during the winter. Understand this, we're gonna find you, we're gonna getcha. We're gonna come to whatever section 8 housing project you sorry asses waste oxygen in and we're gonna drag your rotten carcasses out into the street in the middle of the night and we're gonna tear into you like two dogs caged. And you might not like it if we have to pay you a visit. You might get your door kicked in. You might get your kid napped. You might get your legs broke. You might get your neck snapped. You might get your skull cracked. And you might take your last ride in an ambulance, and you might not make it to see the other side of thirty.

With that warning on their minds, Wright and Bo make their retreat, as COD's music plays over the thunderous roar of the crowd. The Sk8rs and Melody converse with the girls, while the other participants in that less then stellar four way match clear out.

Edited March 17, 2006 by Patty O'Green