HD: 2 COD skits

[Patty O'Green 0]

Yeaaaaah, so, the second skit can go anytime after the first one. Thanks!

 

EDIT: Uh, I think Tony wanted the AAB/Rescue 911 match to go on before these segments. If that doesn't work, I can just edit the commentary around that. Sorry for the all the orginizational directions.

 

We're taken backstage where tag team champion Alix Maria Spezia is practicing the time honored art of salsa dancing. Ever the unusual one, Alix's choice of music isn't traditional salsa fare, rather she's chosen to shake her tail feather to [i]It Ends Tonight[/i]. Needless to say,her energetic dancing is not quite in step with the tone of the Top 40 song. She's outfitted in a True Religion halter style dress with a striking grey fishnet print. Her tag team title, now featuring blinking Christmas lights to go along with the other outrageous decorations, sits on a nearby table.

ALIX
(dancing and singing. Doing the first one very well and the second one very, very poorly)
One two cha-cha-cha. Three four cha-cha-cha. Mandy Moore's a whore cha-cha-cha. Five,six. cha-cha-cha. Seven Eight cha-cha-cha. She ain't so great cha-cha-cha. Nine, ten cha-cha-cha. Eleven, twelve, cha-cha-cha. Can't think of anything that rhymes with twelve cha-cha-cha.

Suddenly a skinny to point of being emaciated, young man in an Audioslave t-shirt and baggy jeans slinks onto the scene.

YOUNG MAN
Uh...excuse me.

Always an outgoing sort, Alix has no qualms about grabbing her visitor's arm and enlisting him as her dance partner.

YOUNG MAN
Al...aix?

ALIX
That's my name cha-cha-cha, don't wear it out cha-cha-cha. What's your name cha-cha-cha?

YOUNG MAN
Um, I got an invitation for you.

ALIX
An invitation cha-cha-cha? For me you say cha-cha-cha? That is odd cha-cha-cha? What's it for cha-cha-cha?

YOUNG MAN
Why don't you open it and see cha-cha-cha? I mean why don't you open it and see?

The youngster digs his grimy hands into his pocket and presents Alix with the mysterious invitation. Smiling broadly, she rips through the envelope in order see where exactly her presence is requested

ALIX
Dear Alix Maria Spezia, you have been cordially invited...Wow! Freaking awesome, dudes! I've never been cordially invited anywhere! Well except for the time Krista cordially invited me to throw myself in front of a speeding truck after she found out I was selling her underwear to the local neighboorhood boys. And the time I was cordially invited to courthouse to testify as a witness for the prosecution in my step brother's trail. I tried to tell him that he may fool the inhabitants of the trailer park into believing the dead body in the front lawn is some kind of new age scarecrow, but the FBI is just a wee bit smarter then our NASCAR loving, mouth breathing, paint drinking neighboors, who are used to being greeted by a federal crime scene when they step onto their front porch. But other then all that I've never been cordially invited anywhere in the whole wide world! And now I've been cordially invited to...hey, where have I been cordially invited to?

YOUNG MAN
Read some more and find out.

ALIX
(reading)
To celebrate the birthday of Alix Maria Spezia. Wow! Freaking awesome, dudes! I've been cordially invited to celebrate the birthday of someone with the same stupid first name as me! I never thought I'd meet someone who's parents were big enough pricks to name them Alix with an [i]i[/i] and not an e.

YOUNG MAN
Uh....I think the party's for your birthday

ALIX
My birthday? Holy crap! That's like a million, trillion times more freaking awesome, dudes!

YOUNG MAN
Yeah, real cool.

Alix takes a moment to ponder what this all means on a deeper, existential level, and comes up with a most startling conclusion. One that is sure to shake the foundation of the OAOAST to it's mu'fuckin core.

ALIX
Waaaaaaait a second! My birthday is in December! I know what this means...

MAN
(nerovusly)
You do?

ALIX
Yeaaaaaah.

MAN
Really?

ALIX
It means my time machine really, really worked! I'm in the future! The future, Conan? The future! Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! Krista said aluminum foil, empty cereal boxes, back issues of [i]Home and Garden[/i] magazine, and my mother's bras wouldn't be enough to defy the laws of the space/time continuum. But who's laughing now, best friend from the future? Who's laughing now? The answer is none of us are laughing currently. But I'm gonna start laughing in about three seconds. One. Two. Three. GO! HAHAHAHA! You know, back in my time, whereas a woman like Krista was forced to get by solely on the basis of her sweet, sweet, tush, I, Alix Maria Spezia, was revered as a leading purveyor of intellectual thought. A true revolutionary in the fields of academia, chemistry, and literature. My limitless intelligence was heralded in lands both near and far. My words of wisdom were as valuable as a thousand dollar bill and as plentiful as a mere penny. And if I, history's most treasured scholar, could impart one piece of advice to the daughters and sons of the future it would be, never wear a g-string and coconut bra to your Grandmother's funereal, it may seem like a good idea, but your family will never, ever, ever forgive you!

YOUNG MAN
Yo, I'm not from the future! Look, you're a big and famous celebrity, and you celebs live on your own planet. So I guess you don't have a lot of time for the little people in the OAOAST apparently. But they really wanted to celebrate your twenty eighth birthday, but they never got the chance. So with you being here tonight, they figured it would be a great time to throw a party for you.

ALIX
They're a month late!

YOUNG MAN
That's just shows how much they love you round here

ALIX
Well it's like you say, shirts, shoes, knees, socks, everyone knows that Alix rocks!

YOUNG MAN
I never said that before.

ALIX
Who's one month too late birthday is it?!

YOUNG MAN
Shirts, shoes, knees, socks, everyone knows that Alix rocks! Hey, uh, I know exactly where the party is at, so can I walk you there?

ALIX
Is my name Jodie Foster?

YOUNG MAN
No.

ALIX
Then what the hell did I steal her social security number for? Well, you can escort me anyway. Come on, creepy and unusually suspicious person who I just met, let's go-go-go!

Despite the fact the boy is an obvious sub human piece of filth, trustworthy Alix hooks her arm between his and skips down the hall, as he leads her along. After several seconds, and several bad knock-knock jokes by chirpy Alix, the pair reach their destination.

YOUNG MAN
Alright, you're here, have a kick ass time.

ALIX
Aren'tcha coming inside?

YOUNG MAN
Um...it's not really my scene. You have fun though.

ALIX
Awww! You gotta come! It just isn't Vegas without you! Actually, it isn't Vegas with you either, but you still gotta come!

YOUNG MAN
I'm cool, but thanks for the invite.

ALIX
Well, okie dokie, artichokie. Thanks for the trip, babe, I'll bring you a slice of cake when I'm done!

Alix passes a wink to the young man before stepping into her birthday bash. The shady character takes up position in front of the door, his eyes nervously patrolling the landscape for sights of suspicious and troublesome passerbys. Suddenly we hear a piercing shriek from behind the closed doors. It's quickly followed by the thunderous sound of glass crashing against the floor. The sound scape becomes polluted with chaos and dread when a voice that's distinctly Alix's bellows out for help. There's a frantic rasping at the door, no doubt Alix making a panic stricken bid to escape whatever despicable monstrosity is pursuing her. However the young guard remains stern, holding the lone escape route closed, leaving Alix to fend for herself against these vile attackers. Soon the noise of her rasping is overwhelmed by that of her stabbing cries of agony. The ice hearted guard holds firm in the face of her heart wrenching pleas for help, even as the sound of her lightweight body being violently slammed against the door becomes the prevalent noise in the area. The mood further decreases into one of bitter sorrow as the harrowing sound of steel chairs crashing into raw flesh is picked up by the cameras in front of the door. As the metal tears through her skin, Alix elicits horrible moans of misery, tears no doubt streaking down her face. Eventually the savage punishment leaves her so weakened that all her chilling screams merely die as a high pitched bubbling in her throat. And soon her voice becomes nonexistent, leaving a sinister air of silence to settle over this woebegotten area. 

VOICE FROM BEHIND THE DOOR
Let us out!

Recognizing the voice as that of his master, the young man quickly rips open the door. Stepping into the hallway like beasts exiting the gates of hell, are the deplorable Sooner Bruisers. They stand tall, brimming with pride, and with their white Ohio State t-shirts decorated with specks of blood. Uber slams the door behind him, preventing the camera from getting a shot of Alix's horrid condition.

BIG FRANK
That was some birthday party, little bro. I always said any man who'd rather beat a woman then screw one is a moron, but The Man of Tomorrow just got himself the best of both worlds.

UBER
Heh. I almost feel bad for the girl.

BIG FRANK
(yelling for no reason)
You going soft on me?!

UBER
I said almost.

YOUNG MAN
(stepping between the two men)
Yo, guys, hate to interrupt a pair of legitimate sociopaths, but how about you show me that money you owe me? I'd be very thankful if you dropped that twenty bucks on me.

BIG FRANK
Thankful? You oughta be thankful we don't drag you into that room, kick your crooked yellow teeth out your mouth, break every bone in your little body, and have you sharing an ambulance with that airheaded whore, Alix Spezia. Now, get the hell outta here, and be [i]thankful[/i] we ain't makin' you leave on a stretcher!

UBER
Owwww owwwww owwwwww!

Not needing to be asked twice, the unscrupulous character scurries off before the Bruisers can make good on their threat. The loathsome brothers exchange high fives before exiting the scene. With nothing left for us to look at, we're taken back to the announce team.

COLE
Good god. Is there anyone on earth more disgusting then The Bruisers? I don't know many times I can say that these men have crossed the line. They just keep on committing these heinous acts, and nothing is ever done about it. Folks, Krista isn't at the arena yet, but when she gets here, someone is going to pay.

COACH
Yo, I agree, them dudes is out of control. But ain't no one gonna slow they role, especially not a thirty five year old celebrity fitness instructor. Krista needs to stay on Oprah preaching a healthy lifestyle to bored and lonely housewives and stay outta the yard where the real dogs at. And why isn't she in the arena, ain't nothing special about homegirl that she can show up twenty minutes after the show started. All truth. All the time. Johnathan Coachman. You already know, nigga.

Edited January 19, 2007 by Patty O'Green

[Patty O'Green 0]

And we have Krista's bit

 

The unbridled female fury of Britt Black's dedication to the party life [i]Nighttime[/i] powers it's way into the sold out venue. The audience, who's never heard this song on OAOAST television before, looks on with silent confusion. Yet their silence is quickly replaced with braying cheers when they witness Krista Isadora Duncan's MTV worthy entrance video appear on the video screen. The woman herself storms onto the stage, a look of total outrage contorting her facial features. Outfitted in a pair of Rock N Republik Light washed jeans, and Topless California t-shirt, featuring a shimmering Tiger graphic, she heads to the ring, ignoring the throng of fans chanting her name. Her tag team title is clasped around her waist, and a half full bottle of Jack Daniels is held tightly in her hand.

COACH
What number beer do you think she's on? Six? Seven? It's been a bad night so I'm gonna say eight. Hey, honey, this is HeldDOWN, not happy hour at girlbar@Ultra Suede, put the bottle down, sister!

Krista enters the squared circle, and angrily demands a microphone. The production assistants quickly meet her request, unwilling to incur her sizable wrath.

KRISTA
Uber, Frank, I'm gonna make this short, but certainly not sweet; if you think you can leave my one and only Alix, a shivering, weeping, emotional and physical wreck and go on about your day without having to make a cameo appearance in the ICU, then as Judas Priest would sing, you got another thing coming! You must have constipation of the brain to think you could've gotten away with hurting her, hurting me, like that. Well, consider ol' Krista the cure for your constipation, because kind of like diarrhea, I'm about to bring you some shit you just aren't ready for. See, the night is still young but I'm already tired of your crap, so do a grumpy old woman a favor, save her the trouble of having to hunt you down backstage, and come on out to the ring, because you need your asses checked ASAP!

[i]Frankenstein[/i] comes pouring through the sound system, provoking a heated round of boos from the audience. Many fans rise to their feet, eagerly anticipating a showdown between champion and challengers. However, several seconds pass without an appearance from the despised villains. The production department has no choice but to cut the music, leaving the audience's groans as the primary noise. Krista simply smiles to herself, which isn't a good thing, because Krista only smiles when she's about to hurt some body.

KRISTA
Okay, West Virgina, I think I get it, they're tough actin' kind of like Tinactin. But in reality these guys are about as brave as Scooby and Shaggy. They'll trick my precious Alix into believing she's having a birthday party-one month too late-, and get a degenerate coke fiend to stand guard, while they jump her from behind close doors, but when I start making threats, they're more scarce then pork on a Muslim's plate. They won't meet me in the ring, because they know I'll turn their heart into a deadbeat, kind of like my kid's father. But ya know what? I'm a very resilient gal, I'm kind of stubborn, bull headed, if you will, and I never take no for answer. So, I'm going to extend another invite to our Oklahoman pals, but this time I'm going to ask in my nicest, sweetest, most adorable little princess voice. Are you ready? Okay! 

KRISTA
(in a high pitched voice that you might use when talking to a child)
Little bitches, little bitches, please come down and play. Little bitches, little bitches, oh, how I missed you today. Little bitches, little bitches, I just want to play. Little bitches, little bitches please come down today. Why do I call you “Little Bitches”? Because I forgot your names, so I'll call you what you're acting like. 

“OOOOOOH”

Once again [i]Frankenstein[/i] assaults the ears of viewers worldwide. While one half of the crowd chants Krissy's name the other turns their attention toward spewing venom at the Bruisers. Unfortunately the targets of their ire neglect to show up, further drawing Kris' ire. Once the music cuts away, she raises the microphone up to hot pink lips to speak.

KRISTA
Uber, I've been called more names then I can count by more people then I care to remember, but I've never in my life been labeled a coward. So maybe you can satisfy my burning curiosity and come down here and tell me what it's like to front like your hard, then hide for your worthless life when you get called on it. How can you live with yourself, walking around, pretending to be something you're not? What kind of example are you setting  for the disenfranchised inner city youth of America? I mean, let's really talk about this, honestly, and earnestly. We as a people have to address the false image that you're perpetuating on international television. How can you lie and say you're a bad ass when you barely stand five foot six and need a bar stool just to get up to my waist. I'm wondering how tough you can really be, when you gotta book a flight on Orbitz just to be able to hit me in the face. I see why you're so nasty, Uber. I'd be pretty mean to if I was thirty years old and still couldn't ride the tea cups at Disney World. But, Uber, I'll tell you this, I'm very happy for you. I'm happy that the OAOAST gave you work after your last Hollywood movie role feel off. The audience looks confused! “What movie role?” they ask. Why don't you come out here and tell them if you were Grumpy, Sneezy, Dopey or Doc?

“OOOOOH”

COACH
Hold on now, I happen to know for a fact that Uber's biography on OAOAST.com lists him at five foot eleven inches.

COLE
It also lists you as a competent, insightful, and well educated addition to the OAOAST announce team. Point being: wrestling website does not equal accurate source of information.

COACH
Krista thinks that all her taunts can provoke the Bruisers into running into the ring and fighting her, and she's probably right. But she has no idea what she's getting herself into right now. She just keeps digging her hole deeper and deeper to the point where she won't ever be able to climb out of it.

KRISTA
And as for you Big Frank, The Man of Tomorrow who might not even live to see tomorrow, I didn't forget about you old buddy! You fancy yourself as an angel of pleasure, similar to Cobain you take all the ladies straight to Nrivana. Now, I know this company is populated by men so stupid they don't even remember to unzip their pants when they stand in front of the toilet, but who do you think you're fooling, Franklin? We read through your lies like Aristotle through [i]Cat in the Hat[/i]. You're no Don Juan, my good man, you'd have to GHB a blowup doll to get it in bed with you. Everyone knows that you couldn't get your dick wet if you skinny dipped in the Pacific ocean! Frank, I hate to be the one to break it to you, actually I take that back, I [b]love[/b] to be the one to break it to you, but the truth is, I've gotten more ass on accident then you ever got on purpose! Now, Franklin, as Miss Celo and her psychic friends look into their crystal balls, they see exactly what's going on backstage, you're overturning tables, you're breaking monitors, you're roughing up prepubescent stage hands, and you're screaming that I'm a motherf**king whore. Well, Frank, considering that Mama Bruiser paid my bed a little visit last night, I guess that does make me a motherf**ing a whore.

Krista puts on expression of mock innocence, asking if she said something wrong. The West Virginians don't seem to think so, loudly cheering her scathing attack.

COACH
That did it! That did it! No way the Bruisers take all this from some alcoholic lipstick butch!

COLE
I never knew you so versed in GLBT slang, Coach.

The crowd's cheers are quickly replaced with boos, and more then a few warnings of "look out" directed towards Krista. Who has drawn the fans' ire as well as their worry? Who else but Uber Bruiser, positioned behind Krista, snorting like a rabid pitbull, ready to pounce upon his foe. But Krista is well prepared for his attack, she whirls around to meet the oncoming canine with her beer bottle! Tiny shards of glass explode around the battleground, mingling with drops of liquor and specks of Uber's blood.

'YEAAAAAA!” screams the crowd, as a disoriented Uber staggers about the ring.

Krista unhooks her title belt from her waist, then charges forward, seeking to imprint the nameplate onto his oversized forehead. But Uber has the wherewithal to duck her attack, and she and her glittering gold belt go sailing past. However he's not quite out of the woods yet, and Krista gives him a painful reminder of this fact, by slamming the metal plate into his mullet covered head. The throng of outdated hair does nothing to cushion the blow, and he erupts with a tortured howl before his massive frame falls into the ropes. Miss California waves her hands into the air, whipping the capacity crowd into a raucous frenzy, before zipping towards the other side of the ring. Unfortunately the exact second she reaches the center of the squared, she's floored by a devastating Soonerline from [b]Big Frank[/b]!

COLE
Damn him!

“BRUISERS SUCK! BRUISERS SUCK!” sings the audience.

COACH
Be careful what you wish for, Krista.

Frank ignores the river of hatred cascading around him, instead focusing his attention on pulverizing Krista. He decimates her upper body with a barrage of stomps, while his younger brother sets out to cripple her legs with a stream of knee of strikes. Spurred on by chants of “K-I-D! K-I-D!”, Krista makes every last effort to fight to her feet. However she's frustratingly unable to make it past the wave of brutal strikes being unleashed by her enemies. All she can do is cover her face and pray that someone will rescue her from this horrific beating.

“ROCKERS! ROCKERS! ROCKERS!” sing the audience, begging the Rock N Wrestling soldiers to make an appearance.

The audience's dream materializes into reality, when Logan Mann and Synth Esizer come storming down the ramp! Outfitted in black leather pants an an unbuttoned white shirt, Logan Mann has armed himself with a crimson V shaped guitar. His partner, wearing faded jeans, has chosen to come to war with a pair drum sticks and an unquenchable thirst for violence.

COLE
Yes! Yes! The Heavenly Rockers! The Heavenly Rockers!

The repugnant duo in the ring fail to share in Cole's pleasure, and eye their oncoming enemies with anmialisitc glares. The intimidating look does nothing to ward off Logan and Synth, who charge into the ring to meet their archrivals. The now standing fans spew forth a deafening roar as the boys from Vegas prepare to wage war on the demons from Sooner Country. Logan attempts to draw first blood by swiping his instrument at Big Frank. But the weapon is so heavy that he's unable to build up much speed, permitting Frank to sweep beneath it. The Man of Tomorrow winds up behind Mann, where he sets him up for a side Russian leg sweep. But Esizer rescues his long time friend by beating a tune onto the muscle bound creature's head. Stunned and annoyed, Frank lets Logan go free to attend his mounting headache. This turns out to be a mistake of epic proportions as Logan grabs onto his bleached blond hair, and chucks him over the ropes! The Man of Tomorrow gruesomely splatters onto the mats bellow, generating a gargantuan pop from the audience. Meanwhile Uber tries to turn the tables on his aggressors. But before he can even can think of volleying a single strike, Synth takes the drumsticks and JABS THEM INTO HIS EYES! Uber emits a blood curdling scream of raw pain, while the crowd openly delights in his horror. Fortunately for his health, Big Frank recovers just in time to pull him out of the ring and into the safety of his arms.

“ROCK N WRESTLING! ROCK N WRESTLING! ROCK N WRESTLING!”

“It ain't over, Rockers! It ain't never gonna be over!” Frank bellows, as he backs up the ramp, clutching his wounded head. Uber is too worried about his searing eyes to do much more then weakly shake his fist at his victorious foes.

Synth responds to the Bruisers' threats by leaning over the ropes and howling, “Owwwww owwwww owwwww!”

For the moment, Uber forgets all about his terrible pain and makes a bid to head back to the ring to pummel Synth as punishment for the mocking. But Frank holds him back, assuring him that the Rockers' time will come soon enough.

With The Bruisers taken care of, The Rockers check on Krista's condition. She seems less then grateful to have been saved by a man, and makes a half hearted attempt to convince them she was merely lulling the brutes into a false sense of security. Her little “independent woman” spiel assures Synth and Logan that her pride is hurt more then her body, and they eagerly help her to her upright. Once again she protests their aid, informing them that she doesn't need any help in standing on her own to feet. The crowd, seeing Krista appear to be somewhat healthy, salutes her bravery with an enormous round of applause

COLE
Lot of respect goes out to the Heavenly Rockers for doing the right thing. Coach, The Bruisers say that wrestling is a long standing tradition in their family dating back to the turn of the twentieth century. They say they respect the sport. I think over these past three weeks we've seen that all that talk of respect is a steaming load of garbage. They don't respect anything or anyone. If they respected this sport, then they wouldn't go out of their way to attack and injure their fellow athletes. That's not what respectful people do. I don't have the words to even describe what I feel about The Bruisers.

COACH
Good. The show gets better and the better the less and less you talk.

Edited January 19, 2007 by Patty O'Green