HD:COD & Gunslingers promo+Title match!

[Patty O'Green 0]

All I ask is that the promo goes before the match. Thank ya!

 

The promo:

 

COLE
Terry Taylor is backstage...

COACH
Terry Taylor? He's still stealing a paycheck?

COLE
I suppose. I mean he's dumb, but not dumb enough to work for free.

COACH
So money that could be going into the bank account of moi, is going to that fool, Terry Taylor? Ain't no justice in this world.

While Coach laments Terry's employment, we go backstage to the man himself.

TERRY TAYLOR
Greetings and salutations, wrestling pals! OAOAST corespondent, Terry Taylor on the scene, here to bring you to the hottest scoops and the latest news. This past Monday we were given the surprise of a lifetime when two of my favorite ladies, made their return to OAOAST television and captured tag team gold. You know who I'm talking about; Alix Maria Spezia, and Krista Isadora Duncan, America's Sweethearts, Chicks Over Dicks. And your man on the scene, is going to be the first to interview them about their return and controversial win, as well as get their thoughts on their first title defense against The Lonestar Gunslingers.

The champions arrive on the scene, and get an enormous pop from the arena audience. A befuddled Terry Taylor notices that the pair looks much taller then they were the last time they were on OAOAST television. About five feet taller to be exact. Ever the sharp one, Terry finally notices the source of their amazing growth: THEY'RE ON HORSES! HORSES, PEOPLE! HORSES! Krista's belt rests around the neck of her black steed, who seems none to pleased to have a shiny hunk of middle strangling it's neck.  Unsurprisingly, Krista is holding a half empty bottle of Budweiser. Alix, on a white horse, wears her belt in a more traditional manner then her partner. But the championship looks anything but old fashioned, as Miss Spezia has decorated it with rose petals, flowers, multi colored glitter, silly string, and Hello Kitty stickers. Even more amazing is the fact that she's attached a horn onto her horses' forehead to make into a unicorn. 

TAYLOR
Welco...... Jesus humping Mary! What on earth are those things?

ALIX
How rude! I know Krista's getting up there in age, but I don't think they're sagging that much.

KRISTA
He means the horses, you twit.

ALIX
Horses? What horses? Oh! These horses. Gotcha. Yes, Terry, these are our pretty little ponies! Aren't they just the cutest thing? Krista's is a boy. And what a boy, might I add! Oh my. Put that thing away dude, you're making Terry jealous.

TAYLOR
You can't let a live animal in here!

KRISTA
Why not? We let you in here.

Deeply wounded by Krista's mostly harmless insult, Terry let's out a mournful sigh, and holds his head in heavy sadness.

TAYLOR
Girls, I was hoping that with a new year, we could usher in some new traditions. Maybe get rid of some of our old and unhealthy, malicious, and hurtful, habits.

ALIX
You want me to close down my moonshine still?

TAYLOR
No, you don't have to do that. Actually, I was kind of hoping that you could, maybe, if it's not too much trouble or difficult for you, be a little less horrible and mean to me this time around, maybe not brutally rape me of the little self respect I have left. I would really, really, really appreciate that.

KRISTA
What? Terry, we're like your own personal Dairy Queen, we treat you right. You walk into our house, and it's like Burger King, you can have it your way. Think of all the fantastic things we've done over the years to shine light onto the barren abyss that is your soul. I mean, I took time out of my busy whirlwind schedule to become your personal weight loss consultant. Only the crème de la crème get such treatment from fitness royalty like myself. I had Sharon Stone call me trying to get me to tighten her abs and firm her BUTT, and I said “Sharon, honey, I love you but I'm sorry, I've got a meeting with wrestling journalism's biggest name this side of Lord Alfred Hayes, Terry Taylor.”

TAYLOR
Weight loss consultant, huh? Your weight loss program involved shoving me into a car trunk, driving it  onto train tracks and telling me you were going to leave my fate in the hands of god. I was so scared I defecated a quarter of my body weight!

KRISTA
Hey, you lost the weight, didn't you? Besides I moved the car, right?

TAYLOR
Of course you did, it was your car!

ALIX
Don't be so snarky sparky, we're plenty nice! What about the cleansing ceremony we preformed for you?

TAYLOR
Cleansing ceremony? Ha! You stripped me naked, handcuffed me, tossed me in a pit of mud, then got in your car and chased me down the streets of South Central Los Angeles while you blasted [i]Ass and titties[/i] out of your radio. I ran for fifteen minutes until the cops came and arrested me for indecent exposure. I spent that night in a cold, dark, dank jail, fending off would be mates with a spork and a loose brick. I missed my mother's funereal! It was the worst birthday of my life!

KRISTA
We get you to the front of the line to a veritable buffet of the California state correctional system's most wanted hunks and all you can do is whine and complain like you were about to be forced to reenact a scene from Jail house Butts 2: Doin' Hardtime. Such a drama queen. And as for me being so nasty to you, is it my fault that you're so incredibly dorky that I can not communicate with you as a human being but rather as a feeble sub human shit pile of neuroses and desperation? No, nothing is ever my fault, for I am perfect, and perfection can never be wrong. But, because we're such nice gals, we promise from here on out not to drive you to commit any murder/suicides, so toss those recipes for homemade bombs into paper shredder, Timothy McVeigh. In fact, here ya go, Terry, have a soulless mass market beverage on me. You don't need your kidneys anyway.

Krista tosses Double T her half finished beer. Naturally, he bobbles it like a goof before managing to secure it in his possession.

TAYLOR
The doctor said I shouldn't mix alcohol with my yeast infection medication but when in Rome! 

ALIX
Rome? I thought we were in Chicago!

KRISTA
I thought we were in hell.

TAYLOR
Girls, I appreciate and value your kindness. And I perhaps more then anyone here in the locker room, am thrilled to see you return. But, I must ask what brings you back to the OAOAST? It goes without saying that the allure of getting a title shot on your first day back was too much to resist, but what else drew you to return? And how do you think your fellow tag teams will react to your surprise return and capturing of the titles?

KRISTA
“Oh no! The wrestling game is all messed up now! What are we gonna do? How are we gonna survive? How are we gonna eat, man? How are we gonna pay our bills? How are we gonna keep our jobs? How we gonna feed our family? I got six kids by four different women, my baby's mama said she was on the pill and now she's pregnant again. I'm broke, I'm twisted, my wife's a hoe, the kid isn't mine and everybody knows. But I love my baby's mama, I'll never let a go. What are we gonna do?  We we gotta log onto Monster.com and find a new vocation because there's no hope for us now COD is back around!” That's the rest of these bum ass tag teams thinking out loud when they saw us back in town. That sound you heard when we made our glorious return to this less then glorious company, wasn't the sound of thousands of people chanting our name, that was the sound of the hearts of every tag team in the OAOAST sinking to the pit of their stomaches, because they know they couldn't hang even if their last name was Husein. So my suggestion to you fine gentlemen is that you pray to the goddess above that HI-YAH shows you a random act of kindess and let's you get a run with their belts, because the only way anyone's getting a whiff of the real thing is if they pry it from my cold, lifeless, dead of alcohol poisoning body. You come to take these belts away from us, and I will take your dignity, your self respect, your pride, your will to live, your sister's virginity, the LSATs , I always thought I'd make a good lawyer, your car, one of those Cosmo tests that asks if you're a tiger or a pussy cat in the bedroom, guess which one I am, a trip to Boston, always have wanted to go never got around to it, hear it's lovely, your house, and anything else of your's I damn well feel like.

TAYLOR
Krista Isadora Duncan serving notice to OAOAST tag teams! However there's one tag team, one with very powerful connections, and an even more powerful bank account that is none too pleased with the way you arrived into the OAOAST. And I don't think threatening words can chase these men off. Of course, I'm talking about the richest man in professional wrestling, the billionaire, Theodore Moneymaker and your old enemy, The Natural Christian Wright.

“[b]BOOOOOOOO[/b]!” responds the arena audience. Alix feigns fright at the mention of the snotty duo's name.

KRISTA
Ah right, Mister Moneymaker and his loyal, castrated, man servant, Christian Wright. Upset because they were actually forced to do work to become tag team champions. Great heavens no! Such a deplorable tragedy mustn't occur! It mustn't, it mustn't, oh it mustn't! How dare these venerated Jevoahs, heroes of the sacred land, actually have to [i]wrestle[/i] a match in order to win a wrestling championship. Such abhorrent atrocities should be punished by death and death alone! Look, when I saw Teddy making his entrance, I didn't know if he was with his partner or if he was walking his dog backwards. Christian, I've seen better faces on hemorrhoids. There are cases of genital warts that have more sex appeal then you. Crawl back to the swamp you were born in, Quasimodo, and keep your buck toothed mouth shut, before I keep it shut for you. If you didn't learn last Anglemania, your damn sure gonna learn now.

TERRY
Christian Wright, you have your warning!

KRISTA
Wait, wait, wait, hold on. Ya know what? I take all that back. All of it. It was cruel, hateful, and completely uncalled for. That was the liquor talking, that demon whiskey speaking, that's not Krista talking. Here's Krista talking. Gentlemen if you have an issue, if you have a problem, let's work it out like adults. Theo, toss Christian in the truck, get him his leash, his water bowl, his rabies shot, and tow his fat ditch pig ass down to Auntie Krista's spacious palace, and let's have a little talk. Come and chit-chat with the world's most beautiful woman, the only person who looks good enough to give sight to the blind. Have a pow wow with heaven's finest angel. Don't be shy or afraid, I don't bite. I'm a nice girl, a calm,  tranquil, caring, docile little dove, not temperamental in the least, or prone to sudden, vulgar, and melodramtic, fits of violent anger. I'm a people person...

TAYLOR
If you're a people person why are you so mean to me?

KRISTA
I don't consider you people. Theo, Theo's castrated man servant, if you have a problem or a complaint, call my office, children. Business hours are ten to five, Monday through Thursday. Call at five fifteen, I'm not picking up. Leave a message after the beep, if you'd like to leave a call back number press nine, if you need help press five for options. Tell 'em what my voice mail says, Terry. Tell the people 'cause the people need to hear it!

TERRY
(doing a poor impression of Krista's raspy voice, while she mouthes the words in the background)
Can't talk, counting money!

KRISTA
Speaking of money that's another thing that brought us back to the land of milk and honey. Where else can you work once a week for three months and still earn millions of dollars? Where else can you say I'd like to do as little work as possible and still collect an unreasonably astronomical salary, while doing so at the expense of the horribly mistreated minimum wage earning citizens who tirelessly toil in deadend jobs, praying for a better life that will eternally elude them? Where else besides the OAOAST and the US senate?

ALIX
This place is so much nicer then my other jobs! I used to work at Abercrombie when I was in college, yes I went to college, and I, like, didn't show up to work for like five maybe six weeks, and when I finally did generously grace those jerks with my presence, they had all these crazy questions for me. No, welcome back party, no gnarly welcome back briefcase full of unmarked bills. Just a whole bunch questions! Where have you been? Were you the one accepting bribes from mall security to run cockfights in the stock room? Did you use the store phone to dial 1-900-senior-whores. How did you dial 1-900-senior-whores? There are way too many digits! "I'm all like, whatever, dudes, I'm a liberal arts major with a focus on 18th century neo-classical ballet, and you will not talk to me in such a manner, I'm skimming a few twenties out of the register, stealing a pair of jeans, and then I am so gone."  A swarthy sea faring lass like myself must stand up for her employee rights! Anyway, the main reason we came back to the O-A-O, besides the bags full of money and instant title shot, is for the super rad fans, who we just l-o-l-o-l-o-v-e to bits n' pieces!

KRISTA
We [i]luv[/i] you, but you we don't [i]love[/i] you, so, if some of you would be Tom Clancy's could keep your more disturbing and horrifying erotic fiction on your hardrive and out of my inbox, that would be all kinds of awesome.

TAYLOR
I spent three of the most agonizing and difficult weeks of my life hand writing that story, and an additional two months illustrating it, and that's all you have say in response? You're a devilishly cruel temptress, Krista. Well, with that out of the way, I can finally ask the question that's being driving me insane for the last five minutes. What's with these darn horses? Are those actually live animals?

As soon as Terry finishes his somewhat insulting question, Krista's horse decides that it would be a good idea to chew on his hair. Significantly freaked out by having his hair treated like a bale of hay, Terry nervously pushes the animal away.

ALIX
Because superior alien intellect from the planet Zorbtron have yet to bestow upon us meager humanoids the technology to properly create lifelike and incredibly well hung farm creatures from Styrofoam and paper mache, I have to say, yes, Mr.T, these are real live animals. Yeah they stink worse then an unwashed baby, yeah they're really freakin' large, and yes they just had a bowl movement the size of my head in Beverly Hills Blond's locker room, but they sure are fun to ride! Kind of like Krista's mom!

KRISTA
Excuse me?

ALIX
Your moms made her choice, ese.

KRISTA
Look, Terry, In the spirit of our match with the Gunslingers, we thought we'd show the world that we're the real, rootin' tootin', pistol totin' outlaws in this here jurisdiction, not The Lone Star Gunslingers. See, they ain't nuthin but two pairs of lyin sacks of crap. They're cheatin', and horn swagglin honest citizens into thinking they're real roughnecks, when they ain't nuthin but a couple of rotten' city slickers. Lord-a-goshin, Terry, we just can't have that! They wanna fight us? Crazy as loons, that's what they is! Their brain cavity wouldn't hold ennuf water for a cactus plant, comin up with ideas like that! Gunslingers, ya'll fellas might as well just hang up yer fiddles right now because you couldn't hit a bull's ass with a handful of banjos! I know you say you gonna beat us, but yer words ain't worth a hill of beans. Boys, ya'll can't defeat us any sooner then you can catch a weasel asleep. Terry, when we get them varmints out in that ring we're gonna make 'em about as happy as two ducks in Arizona!

TERRY
Hmmm. I don't believe a duck would find himself very happy in Arizona. There's a marked scarcity of water in that state, and contrary to many people's erroneous belief's, water is an integral part of the duck's continued survival. Thus your claim of making them happy as ducks in Arizona doesn't hold much weight. I expected better researched quips and witticisms from a woman of your alleged educational level. It would seem you can buy two masters degrees from Standford, but you can never truly buy [i]intelligence[/i].

KRISTA
That's the idea, Terry! A duck without wa...oh forget it. Why do I even bother getting out of bed in the morning?

ALIX
Terry, while we're getting our Western lingo on, the Gunslingers are still having trouble forming coherent sentences. Remember, fellas, I before E except after C. No child left behind! It takes a village! Hillary in 08!

TAYLOR
Girls, do you really think you're actual westerners?

ALIX
Totally! I mean we are from California. And if I could get my [i]Where in the USA is Carmen San  Diego[/i] on for a moment geographically speaking, the good ol U-S-of-A doesn't get much more western then Californ-i-a. Well, except maybe for Hawaii, but they're all a bunch of godless, Jesus hating, devil worshiping, hedonistic savages. So in a way they're kind of like California. Except we have Lego Land. And Lego Land, in case you did not know, totally rocks. But even better, Krissy and I know, like, a gazillion and sxity country western stars! Don't we, Krissy?

KRISTA
Hey, don't drag me down with you. I'm still taken semi-seriously around here.

ALIX
Okie dokie, thanks my unhealthy and borderline psychotic obsession with the Dixie Chicks, [i]I[/i] know plenty of Country Western stars as well as many Nashville county prosecutors. I don't really like to name drop but I'm purrrdy close to a certain red headed stranger you might remember from his riveting performance at Wrestlemania VII. 

TAYLOR
Willie Nelson?!

ALIX
Willie Nelson, what the heck are you...I mean yeaaaaaah, Willie Nelson. Riiiiiight. Oh, me and Nelly, he likes me to call him Nelly, go waaaaay back. Here's a juicy morsel of scandalous gossip for ya, babe! Uh....(Alix looks around nervously until she notices an old issue of TV Guide with [i]Star Trek[/i] on the cover) I drove the get away car when he set William Shatner's house on fire. And, um...(her eyes roam until she spots at a pamphlet for Sea World on a nearby table)Did you know that he hunted  the hammer head shark into extinction? Uh-huh, true story. When I asked him why he did it, he said the sharks' condo was blocking his view of the mountain. When I said sharks don't have condos, he shot me in the leg.

TAYLOR
My word, Alix, I never knew that you were so connected to the privileged and fabulous lives of country music's royal elite!

ALIX
Given enough old TV guides and pamphlets, I can go on about stupid crap I don't understand for hours on end. Can The Gunslingers pointlessly ramble on about nothing for ten straight minutes? No way, Jose! But Ally Cat can. For instance, you know what I've always wondered, why is Tom from [i]Tom and Jerry[/i] such a prick? Seriously, what is that cat's deal?! See? Told ya! And can we talk about those Gunslingers, Terrence? I mean, can we? Can we, pretty please with eighty million cherries on top?

TAYLOR
I think that would be a splendid idea, Alixandra.

ALIX
The Gunslingers are so boooorrrring even a boomerang wouldn't come back to them. Believe me, party people, I know this from experience. Jock tossed a boomerang and it never, ever, ever, ever, came back. I was so appalled and disturbed that I had to put on my [i]Danny Phantom[/i] junior investigator badge and get to the bottom of the situation. Two hours later I found Mister Boomerang at the bar at Applebees getting wasted off rum and Coke.  What follows is a dramatic recreation of our earth shattering conversation. “Boomerang, what are you doing, dude, The Gunslingers are waiting for you!” “I ain't paying that bitch a dime.” “What?” “ You done heard me woman. I ain't paying that girl no child support.” “Exsqueeze me bacon powder?” “How she gonna have me in court trying to get me to pay child support when the kid's got blue eyes and blond hair? I ain't got blue eyes. I ain't got blond hair. I ain't got hair or eyes period, and she want eight thousand a month. And then she's gonna tell me she got the clap, she got chlamydia, and I need to get checked out. The bitch is Muslim and she got chlamydia. What does Allah say about that? See if Mohamed gonna pay your electricity bill, because this dude sure ain't. I ain't messing with these Cuban girls no more. Chick ain't worth the boat she came in on. Makes me wanna beat someone's kids just thinking bout it.” “Uh, dude, what about the Gunslingers.” “They talkin' about throwing me in jail. I wish they would throw me in jail, they got dudes cooking food for you, dudes sorting your mail, doing your laundry, cable TV, beds, and hot water in there. I spent last night sleeping in front of an Exxon gas station with one eye open. I wish they would they put me in jail. I got a semi automatic in my trunk and I'ma put her on some kind of support. Just not the support she wants. Please believe that.” Terry, the boomerang wouldn't even acknowledge their existence, that's how boring they are! Boomerangs don't even have wives, it had to make the entire story up to avoid acknowledging the Gunslingers existence!

TAYLOR
(trying once again to prevent Krista's horse from eating his hair)
I didn't even know boomerangs could talk!

ALIX
They can't! I had to make the whole thing up because I had nothing else to mock the Gunslingers with because they have no discernible personality traits! You can't make fun of something with no personality, it's like trying to make fun of a blender, or a lamp shade, or Simon Singleton. You can't do it! It's possible in English! Il est impossible en français ! É impossível no português ! Es ist auf Deutsch unmöglich ! それは日本語で不可能である! Check this, Mr.T, if the OAOAST was money, The Gunslingers would be rated as food stamps. What can you buy with food stamps, Terry? The generic Alphabit Cereal, that's it, that's what. You can't even get the real deal, you've got to buy the one where the letters only go up to K. You'll be looking around asking weren't there twenty six letters? Not for three dollars worth of food stamps, my friend. Your kids won't know how to read, because all they've got is cereal that goes up to K. They'll be in class and they'll come to the word [i]L[/i]amb and they'll have a seizure. What is is this strange and mysterious symbol with the horizontal and vertical line?! I do not understand these ancient hieroglyphics! Help me, help me! But look at us, Terry, we're the total opposite of the Lonestar Gunslingers. Our cereal goes up to the super secret letters after Z.

KRISTA
Super Secret letters after Z? And what, dare I ask, would those be?

ALIX
If I told you it wouldn't be a super secret, silly! DUH, Krissy!

TERRY
Duh, Krista. Even I know that. God, you're so stupid, Krissy! God! Why are you so stupid?

On orders from his perturbed master, Krista's horsie takes another chunk out of Terry's rapidly thinning hair.

KRISTA
Okay, let's bring this happenin' shindig to a close while I still have some semblance of my sanity. Gunslingers, I'm dyslexic, but even still, us with hang can't you. Your career reminds me of Dick Clark, I can't believe it ain't dead yet. Now, I understand you want the minuscule fame and modest fortune that goes with winning a championship in a sport that's only taken seriously by people who are even less respected than meth addicts and serial rapists. And given the [i]America's Funniest Home videos[/i] worthy failure that is your sad and pathetic lives, I'm sure you hunger for even the tiniest morsel of glory to bless your otherwise pitiful and mundane existences. I know you're fantasizing about riding off into that sunset with these belts held high and your heads held higher, looking into each other's eyes, casting glances of intense affection, wondering if you should commiserate your life long partnership with a tender but ever so passionate kiss. But if you wait, wait, wait, wait a minute Mister Postman, and take the time to truly consider your current course of action, you'll see that that fighting us makes less sense then naming Terry Taylor world's sexiest man. You don't really want it with me, Rascal Flatts. I'm not the kind of girl you come for, I'm the kind of woman you run from. You get in the ring with me and I'll show you more blind rage then Helen Keller and Ray Charles in a steel cage. I don't think you know how crazy people say I am. “You're running in the deep end, Krista”. Well, I don't give a damn. I'm screwed up from years of hard liquor and I'll send you to god quicker then any religion. It doesn't matter if you're Muslim, Hebrew, or Christian. I'm indiscriminate with my punishment, I've got permanent PMS, and I stay bitching. I repeat once again, and production department flash some subtitles onto the bottom of the screen for the benefit of the hearing impaired: You...do..not..want...it...with...us. We will run you into the ground and right out of this town. You might never be heard from again. When we're done with you, you'll have a whole company singing like Paula Cole (Krista begins singing) "Where is my Baron Windells? Where is my prairie song? Where is my happy ending? Where have all the cowboys gone?" Your's in Christ, Krista Isadora Duncan.

ALIX
Oh, your beautiful majesty, thank you for deigning us ragged peasants the immeasurable delight of your golden soliloquies! Geez, talk about a snoozer! You could at least show some cleavage if you're gonna talk my ear off!

Bewildered, Krista slumps onto her horse and clutches her chest in exaggerated pain.

KRISTA
I think I'm having a heart attack.

TERRY
Well then, while we wait for Rescue 911 to revive Krista in time for her match, I'll turn it back to, Johnathan Coachman and Michael Cole. For the OAOAST, I'm Terry Taylor. God speed, and God bless. 

On cue our view switches back to the announce table.

COLE
Thanks, Terry. I've been granted the opportunity to speak with the challengers in the tag team title match, The Lonestar Gunslingers. And I'm sure they're eager to rebut some of the comments made by Alix and Krista. Gentlemen, are you there?

JOCK
Where else are we gonna be, boy?

Jock Mulligan and Baron Windels appear on screen, leaning against a nondescript locker room wall. Outfitted in their trademark all white wrestling attire the normally handsome duo scowl at the screen, striking an intimidating presence

COLE
Gentlemen, thank you for taking time speak with us. No sooner then a day after Chicks Over Dicks won the championship at Mainframe Monday did you issue a challenge for a title bout. Were your surprised to see them accept your request?

JOCK
No, I ain't surprised they accepted the challenge, because there weren't no choice to do otherwise. When The Lonestar Gunslingers say you're gonna do something, you can bet your bottom dollar that you're gonna get up and do it. What you call a request, I call an order, and those gals fell in line like any good woman should. 

COLE
Some might say that by getting a title bout, you've leapfrogged several teams who were in tag title contention.

JOCK
What you call leapfroggin', I call using the brain god gave us. We're Texans, not idiots. We weren't gonna jump through hoops like all the other teams 'round these parts, and waste time in tag team turmoil matches that don't make a lick of sense. Hey, if all those morons wanna beat each other down like a bunch goofballs for the chance to maybe one day get a title shot, then that's their business right there. But while they're doing that, Baron and I will be backstage sipping champagne and toasting our victory like the true champions we are.

BARON
When we want something, we go out and we get it. And we wanted a title shot, and that's what's we got. See, we've been waiting all our lives to win those belts!

COLE
Wait, how is that even possible, this company's only been around for five years.

BARON
.........

COLE
........

JOCK
.......

COACH
........

After an unreasonably long spell of awkward silence, a less then pleased Jock finally speaks.

JOCK
Alright, I see what you're tryin' to do here. You're tryin' to kick up a row.

COLE
Kick up a row?

JOCK
Yeah, kick up a row, create a disturbance, get us real nice and angry.

COLE
I assure you...

BARON
Don't assure us of nothin', slim!

JOCK
I don't need you to tell me what you is and ain't tryin' to do when I can see perfectly well what's going on, saddle licker. Just like them girls did, you want to make us mad, get real deep under our skin, because you know we got bad tempers, and rilin' us up is easier then lickin' butter off a knife. But, I'll tell you this, Alix and Krista may have pushed us a bit too far. Ain't that right, Baron?

BARON
I know I'm madder then an ol wet hen. But my mama told me to never lay no hand on no woman. And I'm not one for hittin' the lady folk, and I got full respect for those gals. But if the good lord is gonna give me the chance to make something of myself, to see a little glory before I pass on to the next life, well, then, I gotta make hay while the sun shines, and settle up with my conscience later.

COLE
That's perfectly understandable.

JOCK
As you can see, my partner is someone to ride the river with. He is a gentlemen of the first water. But I am anything but. I been the on the dodge, running from the law, since the day I was born. I'm full of piss and vinegar. I'm always lookin' fer trouble and spolin' for a fight. I can hit a woman just as well as I can love a woman, it don't make no lick of difference to me, just as long as she's gone by morning. If the time calls for it, I can be as savage as a meat axe.  Now you mail order Hollywood cowgirls may have been able to stretch the blanket, and tell your tall tells for Terry Taylor's and these people's enjoyment, but when it comes time for the real showdown, we'll see what you princesses got.

COLE
Gentlemen, thank you.

JOCK
You're not welcome.

COLE
Well, thank you anyway.

JOCK
You're not welcome anyway.

With that the feed to Gunslingers lockeroom cuts out leaving us to look the world's most average looking announce team, Johnathan Coachman and Michael Cole.

[Patty O'Green 0]

And the match

 

The haunting beauty of Ennio's Morricone's [i]The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly[/i] drifts into the arena, giving birth to an excited murmur from the Tampa crowd. Red and blue lights splash across the landscape, as an orange pyro missle descends from the peak of the overhead scoreboard and onto the entrance stage. It lands with tremendous impact, nearly deafening those spectators unlucky enough sit near it. Immediately after the powerful pyro display concludes the lights dim to a troubling blackness. The home audience is shown an overhead view of the entrance stage, it's metallic floor carpeted by simmering flames that form the shape of a bull's head. The camera then pans downward to reveal the rugged tag team known as The Lonestar Gunslingers. Like beasts walking through the gates of hell, the surly Texans confidently stroll through the blazing symbol. Roving orange lights dance along their muscular baby oiled physiques and give a menacing tint to their matching white trunks. The men toss a nod to each other then set out to the squared circle. With only a nod passed between them, the roughriders begin their journey to the battle ground.

BUFFER
Ladies and gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall with a televised time limit of thirty minutes, and it is for the OAOAST world tag team championship! Now making their way to the ring, the challengers, weighing in at a combined weight of five hundred and seven pounds, they are brawlers hailing from The Lone Star State, they are The Texas Twister Jock Mulligan, Baron Windells, THE LONESTAR GUNSLINGEERRRRRSSSS!

The second Buffer's announcement concludes Baron slides into the ring amidst another series of soft applause. Jock stays on the ring apron, hooking his arm around the top rope. He gazes through the thousands of fans, not focusing on anyone or anything, merely contemplating the landmark task that lies before him. He turns towards his longtime ally and exchanges a solemn look. Each man is keenly aware that this is the most important match of their short careers.

COLE
They've got speed, size, talent and looks that could stop traffic in a heartbeat, but their attitude leaves much to be desired. We don't get a chance to see them often on HeldDOWN, but the Lonestar Gunsligners have an opportunity to establish themselves in the OAOAST record books. The industry was stunned on New Year's and it could be stunned again tonight if The Gunslingers have their game in order.  Many scouts have said there's no reason this team shouldn't be ripping up the tag division, they just need to be given a chance. Well, they've been granted a chance, let's see if they make the most of it.

COACH
Forget about that, because whatever team wins tonight is going to get picked apart by The Sooner Bruisers. They are maaaaaaad, Cole, mad as all hell, about what they perceived as being screwed out of the titles at Mainframe Monday. Personally, I think they have a legitimate grievance. How can you lose your title and never be pinned or submitted? But what's set them off even more is that The Lonestar Gunslingers, a team that's never won any championship in any level of athletics got the first title match before they did. I was there when they found out The Gunslingers were getting first crack at the girls, and I couldn't get out the room fast enough. They tore that mother up! Those brothers are criminally insane. It wouldn't surprise me if they came out while this match was going on and just started smoking fools left and right. Droppin out of helicopters and such, straight blasting suckas, Bruce Willis [i]Die Hard[/i] style. POW POW POW on all you mofos! Duck and hide! For that reason, I'm putting on this riot gear, I've gotta protect myself, I gotta earn my money. If I were you I'd do the same.

Coach actually does put on a SWAT team helmet, and clutches a knight stick like a precious jewel in an anticipation of The Sooner Bruisers inevitable arrival and destruction of human life. Cole remains nonplussed.

COLE
As Terry Taylor mentioned, Theodore Moneymaker...

COACH
Mister Moneymaker to you, peasant!

COLE
[i]Mister[/i] Moneymaker and [i]Mister[/i] Wright along with their cronies and henchmen in the Enterprise are distraught with the outcome of the tag team turmoil bout. They felt that the titles were rightfully their's by nature of the original match lineup. Although I feel the passion for their point, I can't say I agree with them. And it doesn't seem like many of the OAOAST wrestlers, and the OAOAST fans feel much sympathy for their plight.

Sugarcult's unadulterated and athletic rock anthem [i]Los Angeles[/i] kicks through the sound system, as the venue plunges into a dreamy darkness. For a moment nothing happens, but the rowdy fans know exactly what's forthcoming. They make their voices heard above the music's sonic drumbeats, belting out chants of “C-O-D! C-O-D!”. Their voices only grow louder when a gorgeous [color=#FF0000][b]red[/color][/b] pyro waterfall cascades from the heaven's above, interloping with an equally majestic [color=#FF3399][b]pink[/color][/b] pyro fountain in front of the Angletron. Once those fireworks fade into an oblivion an astonishing [color=#FFFF33][b]gold[/color][/b] pyro wall booms to life, engulfing the entire length the entrance stage. Sugarcult's ode to the city of angels reaches it's hot point, and through the smoky haze step LA's favorite angels, Chicks Over Dicks. The anticipation of seeing COD make their return to HeldDOWN after a year long absence pales in comparison to the actual event, and the audience responds with a monstrous scream of excitement.

COLE
Such an ovation!

Alix, attired in a white tube top, matching booty shorts, and white boots with faux fur leg warmers, bounces across the stage, doing her part to further pump up the adrenaline charged audience. Krista, outfitted in a black open sided mini skirt, white Adidas snow boots, and a red Obey tank top that reads “Make art not war” strikes an alluring pose atop the ramp, sliding her hands through her vibrant hair, and putting on a expression of enchanting mystery. Eventually, Krista is able to corral her wild n' crazy partner by the hand. She twirls Alix around like a ballroom dancer, then pulls her into her a tight embrace. Ally tosses her head over her shoulder, and blows a kiss towards the camera, leading cute super imposed red lips to pop on screen.

BUFFER
And the champions....now making their way to the ring, first, from Los Angeles, California, she is the CEO of Mrs.Spezia's sweeties, the Hollywood Bad Girl, ALIX MARIA SPEZIA! And her partner, from Los Angeles, California, she is a best selling author, a fitness queen, and star of the world famous FIT with KID line of exercise videos, she is Miss California Krista Isaodra Duncan! Together they are America's Sweethearts, Chicks Over Dicks!

At the conclusion of the announcement another frenzied pop rises from the stands. Alix repays the audience for their appreciation by passing out her world famous Miss Spezia Sweetie's peanut butter cookies to their eager hands. Ever the sweetheart, she gives the remaining treats to a young autistic boy in the front row, and even kisses him on the cheek. Krista just kind of waves at him awkwardly, then quickly backs away before he can think of asking her for a smooch.

COACH
I hope Special Ed over there enjoyed that, because that's most play he'll ever see in his life. Fasten your chinstraps, bucko, that's all the excitement you're ever gonna get.

COLE
Alix and Krista shocked everyone when they made their return on Monday, and they left more then a few superstars upset with the manner in which they came back. But, the fans are the ones who keep the OAOAST alive, and they are tickled pink to see them back! And I feel the same way.

Krista slides into the ring, and leans over the ropes facing the cameras, beaming a cocky smirk into living rooms across the country. Alix scampers to her side and makes herself an enormous menace by enthusiastically shaking the ropes. The sudden jolt in the cables, causes Krista to vulgarly ask Alix what the hell she's doing. Ally shrugs her shoulders, replying “I dunno”, before leaving a nauseated Krista to her lonsome.

COLE
Folks, the 2007 Anderson Cup is underway, and I personally feel that it will be the best Anderson Cup we've ever had. The brackets have already been announced, and are available at OAOAST.com for you to check out. Also at OAOAST you can vote on who you think will win the historic tournament. Now, Jock and Baron are penciled in to take on Black T. However if the Gunslingers should win the titles tonight, then Chicks Over Dicks would take their spot and would face the powerful team of Brannigan and Black. Anytime you have Black T in the ring, you're looking at a big time match, but to put Chicks Over Dicks in with them is off the charts.

The girls try to settle the argument over who should start the match with a heated game of tic-tac-toe. Alix actually beats Krista, making this the first time she's ever beaten Krista in [i]anything[/i]. Thus a disillusioned and confused Krissy departs the ring, and Ally is left to square off with Baron Windels.

“C-O-D! C-O-D!” chant the Floridians, most of which are still on their feet.

The ever mischievous Alix points to the ropes and sweetly asks Baron if he wouldn't mind running towards them. Windells tosses her a quizzical glance, but one sickeningly cute “Pretty, pretty, pretty please” later and he's dashing towards the cables without question. Unfortunately for him, Alix charges behind, collars her arm around his head, then drives him nose first into the canvas with a bulldog! Her clever scheme earns her a scream of approval from the fans, and a shout of pain from her foe. But she has little time to gloat over her trickery, because Jock Mulligan comes roaring at her with a Bandit Kick. Alix easily sidesteps his trademark attack, then leaps into the air and pummels the man with a standing enziguri! With a throbbing headache and regrets of interjecting himself in the match in the first place, the defeated Texan rolls his carcass out the ring. Meanwhile, his outraged partner, Baron, is seeking to gain a measure of revenge on his bubbly tormentor. He zooms towards Alix wielding a viscous Western Lariat. However Ally delays a possible decapitation by appealing to Baron's spiritual side.

“Wait! You can't hit me. I'm Jewish! Jews are Jesus' people!” She exclaims, cowering in an mock fear.

Torn between his devotion to the lord, and his devotion to his profession, Baron's pea size brain ponders this great quandary. Sadly, he's never able to reach a solution due to his sneaky enemy rolling him up for a pinfall!

ONE

TWO

Baron yanks his shoulders off the mat, and soon his whole body follows as he ascends to his full six foot seven frame. Towering above Ally Cat, the angry cowboy throws a familiar lariat her direction. But Alix has never met a clothesline she can't avoid, and this one is no different. She ducks behind her foe, and dropkicks his muscular back, thrusting him towards his corner. Jock who hasn't the slightest clue that he's about to be steamrolled by a two hundred seventy five pound bulldozer, groggily returns to the apron. And just as soon as he puts his foot on the beige surface his errant friend slams into him, flinging him off the apron and throwing him shoulder first into the steel barricade. [b]CLANK[/b]! Mulligan's massive body lands with tremendous impact, pushing the barricade back three inches and knocking the beers out the hands of nearby audience members. An outraged child, who had his soda spilled by the Slinger, proceeds to wallop the poor man with a foam Colombian Heat hand. Covering his head in the wake of the unusual assault, Jock loudly curses both his fortune and his buffoonish ally. However, his complaints are overshadowed by the cheers of those fans entertained by his predicament.

COLE
I don't see what Jock's problem is. What could Baron have done?

COACH
Not get dropkicked. Not go stumbling forward and knock Jock into a steel barricade for starters.

A distraught Baron leans over the cables, apologizing profusely to Jock. However no amount of sorries can alleviate the searing pain Mulligan feels in his shoulder and his ego. Thus he continues to lambaste Baron for his foolishness.

COLE
I think Mulligan is overreacting to a simple miscommunication. In fact, Baron was already on his way to the ropes when Jock started to climb onto the apron. So if Jock had paid a little more attention to what was going on in the ring, he wouldn't be were he is now.

The Gunslingers embarrassment increases when Alix blasts Baron with another dropkick. This time the attack hilariously hurls the sheriking brawler over the orange cables and onto the floor bellow. With a booming thud, Windels lands in front of his partner, who has several choice words for him. Baron rises and attempts to defend himself in the wake of Jock's rampant criticisms. But Jock offers no argument, instead bellowing a frantic “Look out!”. Confused by Jock's warning, Baron turns around, only to find his enemy descending on his team with an over the top rope body splash! The duo quickly dive out of the way of the soaring cutie, praying that she'll crash into the cold metal barricade. Much to their chagrin and to the crowd's delight, Alix's cat like agility sees her land with her feet on the railing and her back to the Gunslingers. Operating in unspoken unison, the Texans step forward, seeking to shove her into the laps of the audience. But Alix counters this tactic by launching herself backwards, extending her arms, and nailing her bumbling rivals with a moonsault double lariat! The not so gruesome twosome topple to the floor in a heap. Alix stands up, and for some inexplicable reason, chooses to celebrate her triumph by doing the robot and singing [i]We are Family[/i] by Sister Sledge in a robot voice.

“ALIX! ALIX! ALIX!” chant the crowd, who don't seem to mind her less then pleasing singing voice.

COACH
Again Baron's fault. Why did he move out the way when she did the body splash? She's lighter then a feather. Alix is so skinny she could hula hoop with a Cheerio. Just catch her in your arms, and drive her into the ring post, chump. Baron's taking L's left and right. Jock, you a real man, you need a real partner. Holla at the Coach! Jock and John, tag team champions 2007.

Jock shares some of Coach's sentiments, and resumes browbeating Baron for his considerable stupidity. Even as Alix rolls Windells back into the squared circle, Mulligan lies on the outside mats, alternating between grousing about his physical pain, and whining about his poor choice in partners. Back in the squared circle, Baron rolls to his feet, and spots Alix darting towards him. He halts her charge with a boot to the stomach that leaves her doubled over and wheezing in pain. Seeking to gain some revenge for all the trouble she's caused him, he roughly lifts her up as if he was going for a body slam, then inverts her and drops her shoulder first across his knee before discarding her to the canvas. Alix slinks away from her rival, clutching her wounded arm. But he stalks her across the ring, eying her with feral intent. He reaches down and grabs a thick clump of her hair, using it to pull her upright. He then pushes her into a bent over position and coils his arms across her slender waist. He lifts Alix into the air and holds her in position for a few seconds to showcase his ungoldy strength, then brutally slams her into the canvas with a gutwrench powerbomb! Krista and the audience react with horror to the viscousness of Baron's attack, and even Jock can't help but be a [i]little[/i] impressed. Not satisfied with the damage already done, Baron hauls Alix to her feet, and hurls her to the cables. Her incredible speed proves to be her downfall, as she gets bounced back before she can contemplate a plan of attack. Baron isn't nearly as indecisive as she, and knocks her off her feet with a spinning back fist. He stands victorious over his whimpering enemy, smirking to himself, gloating over the pain he's wrought.

COACH
I knew Baron was that dude all along! I've always been a supporter of the Baron Windels movement. Never could say a disparaging word about the man.

Deciding to quit while he's ahead, Baron tags in the ill tempered Jock Mulligan. The Texas Twister's entrance into the fray earns a smattering cheers and boos. However he pays the varied crowd reaction little mind, instead focusing all his thoughts on winning his first championship belt. He hits the ropes and comes back with fists clenched for The Hollywood Bad Girl. Alix, resting on one knee, looks up at the last minute and makes a desperate bid to get out of the way. But Mulligan tracks her movements, and as she scrambles to her feet, he extends his knee forward and smashes it into the top of her skull! “CRAAAACK” the disturbing sound of bone meeting bone echoes throughout the venue, as the camera picks up a shot of a worried Krista pacing back and forth on the apron. Jock doesn't wait for Alix to rise before he continues his punishment, choosing instead to drive the point of his elbow into her bare stomach, causing the redhead to spasm in pain. Mulligan springs to his feet and repeats the same sequence, before latching onto Alix's left leg for a Boston Crab. Miss Spezia is steadfastly opposed to being placed in such a submission hold, and uses her tennis shoes to kick Jock away before making a mad dash to her feet. Enraged by Alix's escape, Jock pulls himself together and prepares to knock her into the stone age with a Bandit Kick. Unfortunately he doesn't move quickly enough to prevent Ally from leaping onto the third rope, spring boarding off, and catching him with a spinning wheel kick. The fans responds with a huge ovation for her counter. She acknowledges their love and support, with a wink and smile as she nurses her sore stomach.

Always overprotective of Alix, Krista views Alix's minor discomfort as a sign of her being near the deathbed and hollers, “Tag me and fast!”

“Tag you and fast? Do you mean tag you and hurry or do you mean tag you and not eat for a really long time?” Alix inquires.

“Just tag me, dummy!” Krista screams, wondering why she even wastes her time being concerned in the first place.

Alix follows orders and applies the tag to Miss California, eliciting a gargantuan pop from the capacity crowd.

COLE
Would you listen to that reaction!

That incredible reaction lasts for all of ten seconds, as Jock, who recovered during COD's confusion, storms over to Krista and blasts her with clubbing forearms before she can properly enter the ring. The official admonishes Mulligan for his questionable tactics, but The Slinger ignores him, focusing all his attention on punishing his foe. He latches onto Krista's vibrant golden locks and drags her into the squared circle. The handsome brawler hauls her into a neutral corner, and uses his burly frame to seal off her escape routes. He raises his thick arm, preparing to strike down on Krista like some sort of demented human guillotine. But the speedy lady somehow manages to slip past Jock's elevated limb, leaving the man dumbfounded! She takes advantage of his brief confusion, and swaps places with him on the turnbuckle. With his barrel chest exposed to the world, she unleashes a hellstorm of knife edge chops on his buff pectorals. Each blow does a fantastic job of tearing away at Jock's baby oil drenched skin. However his mounting anger allows him to brush the damage aside and land a ferocious knee into Krista's six packed stomach. Another knee follows, granting the big man control of the contest. 

COLE
Jock Mulligan is doing what he does best, and that's brawl and use his strength to overpower his smaller opponents.

The Texas Twister applies tightly held front facelock on Kris, then situates her onto the top turnbuckle. Krissy teeters back and forth, sweat staining her forehead, her brain working overtime to determine how she can beat this intimidating beast. Jock's answer is that she can't, and he drives this point home by playfully slapping her in the face, as he ascends to the top turnbuckle. Disgusted with Jock's crude treatment of Krista, Alix rushes to her rescue! She punches Mulligan in the ribcage and actually challenges him to a shoot-out at the OK Carrol. Though the actual punch was nothing more then a minor annoyance to Jock, it provides Krista with all the distraction she needs to shove her assailant back to the floor. Jock lands on his boots, but struggles mightily to maintain his balance. This moments disorientation grants Krista the time she needs to prepare to strike him with an aerial attack. The roaring audience rises to it's feet, many readying their cameras to capture an image of what should be a jaw dropping move. Krissy shoots herself off the turnbuckle and laces her toned legs around Mulligan's neck. He tries his damnedest to rid himself of her unwanted presence, but it's to no avail. She peels backwards and pulls the rugged warrior head over heels with a fabulous hurricanrana!

“KRISTA! KRISTA! KRISTA!” scream the audience, as Jock lies a groggy mess on the canvas.

The chant's recipient scales to the second turnbuckle, further exciting the highspot lusting crowd. But before she can execute any high risk move, she has be assured her makeup looks acceptable. Thus Krista pulls a Revlon compact mirror out of her top, flips it open, and admires her gorgeous visage for a solid thirty seconds. In fact the only reason Krista stops checking herself out is because Alix screams...

“Krissy! Do your stupid move and fast! And I don't mean do your stupid move and not eat for a long time!” 

Snapped back to reality, Krista chucks the mirror into the stands, leaving the audience members to battle over the precious souvenir. While the crowd fights, Krista rises to her full vertical base, leaps from the posts and fires herself at Jock. She rotates in midair and drives her full weight onto his chest with a gorgeous shooting star press! The impressive aerial move claims a cheer from the fans, and Krista stands up to bow like a 17th century court dancer to her numerous admirers. As she soaks up the adulation, a dazed and confused Jock rolls onto his front, ready to push himself upright. However, Miss California spots his ascension and immediately nullifies it with a basement dropkick.  Mulligan holds his face in sharp misery, but refuses to stay grounded and staggers to his feet. Problematically, Krissy is no where to be seen. Though she's out of sight, she certainly isn't out of mind, and Jock turns in a dazed circle to get a bead on his elusive foe. Unfortunately for him, she reveals her location in a most painful manner. Leaping from her position on the second rope, Krista sails through the air, latches her legs onto Jock's shoulders, and sends him skidding across the canvas with a hurricanrana. As the audience applauds her latest attack, Krissy leaves her moaning adversary in the middle ring, and strides to the turnbuckle. The crowd screams with anticipation for her next glorious move. She certainly doesn't disappoint them, jumping to the top rope, then corkscrewing back with a majestic moonsault! But to the fans' and Alix's immense dismay, Mulligan pulls himself out of the way at the last possible second, leaving Krista to hit the mat with devastating impact. She crumbles to her side, screaming as the chilling pain spreads like a cancer throughout her body.

“LET'S GO KRISTA! LET'S GO KRISTA!” the audience sings, doing their part to make sure the momentum doesn't swing to the side of The Gunslingers.

Drawing strength from the fans' support, Krissy tries to get back to her feet, but the pain in her stomach slows her down enough to allow Jock to prepare for her. The Texas Twister lashes a spinning back fist across her face that knocks her head from side to side and leaves her staggering backwards. Following her trail, he closes his arms around her exposed waist with a grip that holds tighter then cast iron bars. From there he bridges backwards, launching the fan favorite into the sky with his trademark belly to belly overhead suplex! Krista lands on the mat and is instantly attacked with horrible pain, her back feeling like it's been carved up by razor blades. The audience is absolutely livid at such a blatant disrespect for Krista's body, and gives a remorseless Mulligan an earful. 

COLE
Looks like Jock has the bulge!

COACH 
You nasty, kid. I'm checking out Krista, like any red blooded male would, and you looking at a man's package, staring all intently to see what he's got in there, salivatin' and secretin' over it and whatnot.

COLE
To have a bulge, means to have the advantage in cowboy speak, Coach. I was just trying to bring some education to this program.

Going against his better judgment, Jock applies a reluctant tag to his oafish partner, Baron Windels. After thanking Jock for the second chance, Mister Windels enters the ring and promptly picks up where his ally left off. He grabs Krista as she's starting to stir and snags the blond bombshell into a front facelock. To Baron's chagrin he encounters spirited resistance from the fitness queen. And for a fleeting moment it appears that she may be able to break free of his clutches. But a quick forearm to her upper back subdues the spirited fighter. Baron slings her right arm over his head, takes hold of her mini skirt, foists her into the air, then timbers to the canvas, crushing her back with a textbook vertical suplex! The effects of the hold barely have time to register in Krista's mind before Jock Mulligan illegally reintroduces himself, planting a knee into the top of her skull! Before the referee can even think of admonishing him, the Twister's already fled the ring, disavowing himself of responsibility for his actions. On the apron, Alix pitches a hissy fit over Jock's tactics to anyone who will listen. But the one person who needs to hear it the most, the referee, is too busy counting Baron's pinfall to listen...

ONE

TWO

Krista scrapes her shoulder off the mat, leading Alix and the fans to breathe a sigh of relief. Frustrated with his inability to end the contest, Baron brings in Jock to seal the deal. Mulligan joins Windels in the ring, each man taking a hold of Krista's arm and tossing her to the ropes. With their onyx colored eyes gleaming like quicksilver, the cowboys surge forward and bowl her over with a pair of shoulder blocks. Krista plummets to the mat, pain lighting up everyone of her howls. Alix witnesses her dire state, and leans over the ropes, rapidly clapping her hands together, making every effort to rally her fallen friend. Jock sees Alix's worried expression and  taunts the feisty lass, promising her that she's next in line to feel the Gunslinger's wrath. Ever the mature one, Alix replies by making a monkey face at him. See? Mature. Once Baron exits the ring, Mulligan takes the stock of situation. He realizes that Krista is in a sizable amount of pain, but he wants to make sure she's perfectly incapacitated before he attempts to put her away. With that in mind, he crooks his arm around her sweat drenched head, then takes hold of her right leg, situating her for fisherman's suplex. Krista makes a heroic effort to break free, but the brute strength of The Texas Twister is too much for her to overcome. Fortunately for the damsel in distress, Alix comes to the rescue, sprinting into the ring and pasting Jock with a roundhouse kick!

“YEAAAAAAA!” scream the previously dead crowd.

More annoyed with the fact that the fur from Alix's leg warmers got in his mouth, then hurt by the kick, Mulligan makes a bee line for the retreating Alix. Yet he's unable to cause her any damage, as a recovered Krista saves her from harm with a rollup!

ONE

TWO

Jock kicks out, and manages to rise to his feet before Krista. He wraps a hand through her shimmering hair, and violently hauls her upright. He drags her to his corner, where Baron has the presence of mind to rest his cowboy boot on the top rope. With a sneer towards the thousands of fans in attendance, Jock prepares to smash her beautiful face into his ally's waiting shoe. But Krista has other ideas in mind, and stymies Jock's efforts, by placing her left hand on the small of his back, and pushing forward, sending him hurtling into Baron's leg! The fans come alive with a roar of approval for Krissy's counter attack, as Jock wails like an unwashed baby. Windels, who hadn't been paying much attention to the proceedings, looks over to see what all the commotion is about and is left in utter shock when he spots his partner clutching his nose and insulting him for uselessness.  Hoping to make up for his latest error, Baron tags himself into the fray and instantly goes to work on Krista's back with clubbing forearms. The femme fatale responds to the assault by rifling a parade of rapid fire punches, not letting up on her rival for a millisecond. But her strikes aren't powerful enough to floor Windels, and the big man easily swats them away, returning fire with a series of straight left hands to her already sore face. Krissy's body rocks against the tremendous force of the attacks, not stopping until he ceases his reprehensible battering. As Krista has been left dazed by his brutalization, Baron meets little difficulty in lifting her limp body into a standing fireman's carry position.

COACH
I don't know what's coming, but I bet it leads to new tag team champions.

Smiling from ear to ear, Baron spins around, slowly showcasing his beautiful victim to the viewing world and adding suspense to the inevitable damage his move will bring. The audience's heat swells to the boiling point, as they and Alix urge Krista to fight her way to freedom. Just as Baron is about to slam Krista into the ninth level of hell, she somehow manages to roll off his broad shoulders. She lands on her white Adidas snow boots with all the grace of a classical ballerina, and all the hatred of a caged lion. Windels is so dumbfounded by Krista's escape, that it doesn't even register that she's no longer on his shoulders until the queen of the jungle does a one handed hand stand, spins her entire body around, and liquidizes his delicate facial features with her right leg, before her left leg replays the same painful sequence. The onlookers give Miss California a rousing ovation for her ability to stave off certain defeat as well as for her flashy technique.

COLE
That is a capoeira attack known as the Au Malandro. It's moves like that make me love  watching Krista wrestle.

COACH
I don't mind seeing her wrestle, but I'd much rather see her [i]box[/i]. hehehehehehee. Box.

Krista's devastating attack fails to floor the lumbering giant, for when he timbers backwards for the earth shattering drop to the canvas, he's caught within the chilly embrace of the ring ropes. The cables act as an unwilling host, and eagerly rebound the muscle stud back to his resurgent foe. Baron takes a few unwanted steps towards the center of the ring, too dazed to prevent Krista from draping his right arm over her shoulder. Seeing his chances of holding OAOAST gold fall apart before his eyes, Jock screams at Windel to stage a counterattack. But Jock's pleas fall on deaf ears, as Baron is at the cruel mercy of Krista's whims. And those whims drive her to perform a back flip onto her stomach, forcing a hollering Baron to go airborne with her. Windels is deposited into a forward roll, brutally landing on his back at the hands of [b]Everybody hates Kris[/b] (back flip rock bottom). The ring  ripples beneath the monumental impact of Krista and her mangled adversary, and Alix claps excitedly for Krista's moment of victory.

“YEAAAAAAAA!” shouts the crowd.

Krista sprawls stomach first on the mat, mortally exhausted, her sweat drenched locks cloaking her exasperated face. Through damp strands of hair, her blue eyes spot Alix on the ring apron, begging for a tag. Gritting her pearly white teeth together, she undertakes the arduous journey of trekking to her corner. Her mind urges her to move with speed, knowing that Baron won't lie dormant forever. But her impoverished body refuses to cooperate, taking it's sweet time in getting her to her destination.

“KRISTA! KRISTA! KRISTA!” the audience chants, encouraging their fallen heroine.

COLE
Krista has got to get to Alix. If she doesn't then this first title defense will be their only title defense!

At the zenith of the crowd's chant, the warriors stir their wounded bodies. They both slowly gain their feet and unsteadily inch their way upright. The combatants are bone weary, hardly able to tell what's going on or even what city they're in. Neither seems to have the slightest clue of what to do next as they teeter back and forth on weakened knees. Baron stands on  one leg, comically swatting at mythical foes like a drunk after happy hour. Krista, however, encounters better luck then him, and is blessed with surge of desperate energy. She clenches her fists together and uses her last trace of strength to sprawl forward to make the tag with her partner in state sponsored civil union, Alix Spezia! The capacity crowd goes nuclear for Alix's arrival, nearly taking the roof off the arena with their cheers!

Alix points to Baron and channels the spirit of Al Pacino in [i]Carlito's Way[/i] by hollering “You wanna be big time? You gonna fucking die big time!” at the man who is so out of it that he thinks he is actually being threatened by Al Pacino himself.

Windels makes a weak effort to defend himself against Alix's impeding onslaught, offering a languid elbow smash as she nears. But Alix handily neutralizes his strike by taking his attacking arm and slinging it over her right shoulder. She then ignites a blaze of anguish along his back by driving him to the mat with the [b]True Life: I just got beat up by a girl[/b](STO)! 

“YEAAAAA!”

Seeking to derail the COD train before it knocks his team completely off the tracks, Jock enters the contest and darts towards Alix. He extends his lengthy leg forward, trying for the third time tonight to take her head off with the infamous [b]Bandit Kick[/b]. Once again his efforts meet with unbridled failure, as Alix deftly avoids his volley by grabbing onto his foot and slamming it back to the canvas. However, Mulligan doesn't even get the chance to bemoan Alix's evasion, because in the blink of an eye she locks her arm around his neck, leaps into the air and spins him like an out of control merry-go-round. After a full 360 rotation, she plummets to the canvas, spiking Jock's noggin into the mat with the Sucker Free DDT! Every fan in the arena lets loose with a wild ovation for Alix's domination of the roughnecks. But Jock, who's now suffering the worst headache of his life, fails to see what's so joyful about his miserable situation.

COLE
Perhaps Jock ought to consider putting the Bandit Kick into retirement after tonight!

Alix decides that with her foe in a prone position, now is the perfect time to showcase her [i]ass[/i]ets to the lustful crowd. Standing at Jock's side with legs apart and hands on bent knees, Alix bounces her voluptuous BUTT up and down, making it shake like dice much to the hormone driven audience's enormous pleasure. Splurty sounds of young boys fapping their way INTO MOTHER FUCKING MANHOOD to Alix's sweet ass, while repeatedly looking over their shoulder to make sure their mom doesn't catch them in the act, are heard in basements across North America. Finally Alix ends her booty shaking routine and rockets herself backwards, coming down across Jock's chest with a standing moonsault. As the audience bellows a gigantic pop, the referee drops down to count the resulting pinfall.

CROWD
ONE

CROWD
TWO!

Baron Windels makes an ill fated attempt to break up the pinfall with a top rope body splash. Ill fated because Alix spots his descent out the corner of her eyes and yanks her body away from the speeding bullet. [b]OOOMPH[/b]! Windels lands with a nauseating clunk onto Jock's chest, instantly seizing all the air from both men's lungs. He lifts his battered bones off The Texas Twister, much more concerned with his own welfare then that of his grouchy associate. But he's offered no time to lick his wounds, as Alix pulls him upright and hurls him to the corner. But Baron is able to shift his weight, and use his sizable strength advantage to reverse the hold and send the SoCal babe to the ringposts. He watches her smash into the padding back first, then follows her in with plans of bringing misery to her world. However those plans fail to materialize thanks to the cherry haired fighter sidesteping his rampage! Baron has a terrible meeting with the turnbuckles, his injured chest receiving the scathing brunt of the blow.

COLE
I think at this point in time The Gunslingers are getting overwhelmed by Alix's amazing speed.

Windels has nary a second to get his wits together before a revitalized [b]Krista[/b] descends upon him with a body splash. He drags his impressive frame out of the way, certain that she'll encounter the same grizzly fate he did seconds ago. But KID manages to land flawlessly onto the third turnbuckle, popping the audience and giving Baron fits of rage. She further adds to his problems by flipping towards him with a moonsault press! But Baron avoids the attack by diving underneath her plummeting body, and praying to the gods above that she'll splatter onto the canvas. His prayers go unanswered as the blond goddess lands with exquisite grace on her flashy footwear. Just seconds later those expensive shoes join Alix's equally expensive shoes in decimating poor Baron's face with double dropkicks!

“C-O-D! C-O-D!” sing the fans to the girls who are currently exchanging high fives

With the taste of Adidas and Gucci on his lips, Baron staggers out the corner. His teary eyes search for a comfortable place to pass out and throw in the towel. Unfortunately his legs give out before he does, belly flopping his entire body towards the mat. A deafening ovation spews from the stands when Baron's shaved head lands precisely on Jock's purple headed womb broom. A mortally wounded  Mulligan shoots his back off the mat and wails into the night sky, damning the day he chose to enter this heartless world of professional wrestling.

COLE
Safe to say Jock doesn't have “the bulge” anymore! Eh, Coach? Hehehhhe. Bulge.

COACH
I wish I was dead. No wait, I wish you were dead. Yes, that would be much better.

Face awash with anger, and hand clutching Rumple Foreskin, Jock rises, seeking someone, anyone, to obliterate. His crazed gaze locks onto Krista, and he charges towards her, hoping to flatten her with his sheer size. But Krissy has no trouble dealing with the studly Texan, and halts his advance with a face caving superkick! 

COLE
I think we may have just heard Mulligan's nose break!

Eyes rolled into the back of his head, he topples himself into a full nelson by Alix. She wraps her leg around his, then slings his entire body forward imprinting his facial features on the canvas with her finisher [b]You Have Died of Dysentery[/b] (full nelson face crusher)!

“YEAAAAAAA!”

Mulligan lies a shredded heap on the mat, unable to think past the pulsating wave of pain in his battered face. Fortunately for him, all he has left to do in this match is lie in perfect harmony while Alix pins him and the official makes the count.

CROWD
ONE


CROWD
TWO


CROWD
THREE!

The girls theme music kicks up once more, but it can scarcely be heard over the earthshaking ovation of the audience. The referee hands the elated champions their titles, which turns out to be a big mistake because chirpy Alix takes that as an invite to explain to him the origin of her title's unusual and overly girly decorations.

BUFFER
Your winners, and still tag team champions of the world....AMERICA'S SWEETHEARTS...CHICKS OVER DICKS!

COLE
All in all a pretty solid showing from The Lonestar Gunslingers. They've beaten Black T before, one of the best, if not the best tag team to ever set foot in this company, and they almost pulled off another upset tonight. We'll see if they can work some magic when they face Black T in the first round of the Anderson Cup.

Jock and Baron scrape their defeated bones off the mat, trying to stable their bodies under the pressure of throbbing pain. Brief words are exchanged between the two, and the outlaws seem to reach some sort of plan. Holding onto hurt ribs they limp their way over to the girls' winner circle. Murmurs are heard amongst the audience, for many believe they are about to bear witness to a post match confrontation between champion and vanquished challenger. However no such battle will come to pass, as,  The Gunslingers, in the ultimate act of sportsmanship, extend their hand in respect to the victors. Krista, who is distrustful of any man much less one who tried to beat her up, eyes their offer with extreme skepticism. Alix, on the other hand, strangely hollers out “THIS CRACKER IS DOWN FOR WHATEVER”, and eagerly returns their show of respect. Despite her initial trepidation, Krista gives into peer pressure and repays the Gunslingers gesture. The audience greets the symbol of respect with a stirring round of applause

COLE
How about that, Coach? Doesn't that just warm your heart, old buddy?

COACH
That's exactly what would I do to two people who caused a two hundred sixty five pound man to land square on my nuts, I'd shake their hand and thank them for it. I was wrong, Jock Mulligan is a brokeback fool. And don't call me “buddy”, I'm not your friend. You don't know me like that.

With one final nod to The Slingers, the champions exit the ring. As they leave they hold up their titles to the delight of their adoring fanbase.

COLE
Well, Chicks Over Dicks making their return to HeldDOWN and picking up a hard fought victory over The Lonestar Gunslingers. A great first defense for our newest champions. And I....hey what the heck is happening in the ring?

While Cole is wasting everyone's time recapping what they've already heard a million times before, a donnybrook is being kicked up in the squared circle. [b][color=#993300]The Sooner Bruisers[/color][/b], amidst all the gleeful commotion, have ran through the crowd and stormed the ring, where they've accosted The Gunslingers.  The brothers grim are pummeling their victims with punches and kicks, drawing jeers from the Anti-Bruisers audience.

COACH
I told you they were coming! Quick hide under the desk! If they can't see you, they can't attack you!

Jock fires off a series of forearms in his defense, leading the fans to believe he actually has a chance of staving off a brutal beating. But Big Frank dashes that hope by slamming a trilogy of clubbing forearms into the man's upper back. Uber further subdues Mulligan by striding forward and pulverizing him with a devastating lariat. Jock folds to the canvas like a crumpled newspaper, powerless to prevent the barbarians from decimating him. Elsewhere, the stunned referee gathers enough of his composure to order the time keeper to ring the bell repeatedly. The stunned referee gathers enough of his composure to order the time keeper to ring the bell repeatedly. As you can probably guess, hitting a metal object over and over again does not stop the Bruisers from their uh...bruising. 

COLE
What are they doing this for? What is the point of this?

COACH
I told you already! The Bruisers are mad they weren't granted a rematch for the titles they never truly lost, while a team that's never held any championship of any sort gets the first crack at the new champs. So, they're taking out their aggression on The Gunslingers, and once they're done with them, who knows who's gonna be next!

Big Frank presses Mulligan's broken carcass into the air as he lewdly taunts the enraged audience. After ten seconds of keeping Jock Mulligan, Frank releases him, dropping him throat first onto sharp ring cables. Mulligan bounces off the ropes and onto the mat where he clutches his throat and tries to regain the air that's rapidly leaving him. The Man of Tomorrow regards his weakened victim with a disgusted sneer as he watches him struggle to breathe. He then steps forward and buries his foot deep into Jock's chest. The force of the blow pushes Mulligan onto his stomach. He lies face down on the mat, coughing up gobs of blood, withering under Franks stomp filled assault. Across the ring, Baron is trying his damnedest to trade blows with the maniacal Uber Bruiser. But in his weakened state he's no match for the amateur grappler's raw power, and Uber is able to overwhelm him with a monstrous lariat. Baron plummets to the canvas and lets out a scream of horrendous pain. That alone would be enough to satisfy any normal sociopath. But Uber is far from your run of the mill sociopath. Thus the Psycho Gremlin begins to satisfy his lust for blood by raining punches onto Baron's handsome face. Windels moans of misery fill the crazed savage with orgasmic glee, and lead him to increase the furor of his strikes.

COLE
Someone stop this!

COACH
No, don't stop it.

COLE
One man has blood pouring down his head, the other has it coming out of his mouth like a waterfall. Why would you want this to go on?

COACH
No reason. I just like being contrary.

Having seen enough, Alix and Krista valiantly (and perhaps foolishly) charge to the ring, getting a raucous ovation in the process. Devious smiles slide onto the brothers' faces, as they know beating the tag team champions in a fist fight would be easier then snatching candy from a baby. Unfortunately for them, no such brawl will take place as a bevy of road agents, referees and various other backstage sorts flood the ring to keep order and protect the first ladies of the OAOAST from a savage stomping. Angered at the intrusion but not wanting to risk a brawl with an army of OAOAST personnel, the Bruisers exit the warzone, but not before delivering a few well placed stomps to their victims. Krista's ice cold eyes stalk the ex-champions up the ramp, and her mouth showers them with a legion of insults. Big Frank simply makes kissy faces at her, flexing his steroid enhanced muscles as he and his howling sibling retreat up the ramp.

COLE
All I can say is thank god. That was bad but it could've been even worse. You know what, I'm sick of those bullies. If they were fired tomorrow, I'd be thrilled. Overjoyed even. They repeatedly cross the line, they get fined, and then they just do it again. Nothing ever changes, I'm tired of the Sooner Bruisers and I'm not the only one. If you have a problem with the title situation take it up with the appropriate people, those in charge. Don't just attack innocent victims because you're eating sour grapes.

COACH
Those weren't innocent victims, they stole The Bruiser's title shot!

COLE
They didn't steal anything. They presented a challenge, Chicks Over Dicks accepted it and that was that. As always The Bruisers were completely out of line in what they did today. Someone has to shut these monsters down, and put an end to their rampage. I know you agree with me.

COACH
You ugly. And you smell. You smell like muskrat love.

Edited January 5, 2007 by Patty O'Green