HD: SCM VS COD FOR THE TAG TITLES

[Patty O'Green 0]

not the best match in the world, or the state, or the county, or the city, or the neighboorhood, or even the house but i'm sorta busy lately

 

We're taken to the always stylish Michael Buffer, who's standing in the center of the ring with a microphone held to his lips.

BUFFER
Ladies and gentlemen the following contest is for the OAOAST world tag team titles, and it is scheduled for one fall with a televised time limit of thirty minutes! Introducing first the challengers....

The metallic opening of [url="http://sharebee.com/cb8f226a"][i]Cross That Line[/i][/url] by Rick Ross fills the arena with an urban scented dread. As the audience murmurs with anticipation, the formerly bright lights delve into a troubling blue hue.

[i]Convict....Convict....Convict[/i]
[i]Up front
Yeah....
[color="#FF0000"][size="6"]Convict Music[/size][/color][/i]

While the haunting piano melody heightens the tension in the venue, scenes of The South Central Militia's special brand of havoc blaze across the Angletron, showing the alarmed fans what type of savage aggression the men who are soon to arrive are capable of.

[I]Oooooh ooooh oooooh
If you ever cross that line 
I guarantee ya there'll be nothin' to save ya (save ya, save ya)
I got a whole bunch of gorillas ready to pull the trigga 
And we all for that paper (paper)
Comin' from a life of crime 
Tryna be on my best behavior 
You see my rep's gettin' bigger but still that same nigga bustin' shots at them haters (them haters, them haters)
But only if you cross that line[/i]

The colossal bass of Rick Ross' street anthem booms through the venue, heralding the arrival of the tag team title challengers. The entrance doors split apart, and jeers rise into the air as The South Central Militia steps through a cloud of smoke to take position on the entrance ramp. Wearing a pair of flared Red Monkey Jeans, decorated by a Chinese feudal map, and a black LRG throwback track jacket, Vincent Santana throws his arms out to his side, and unleashes a feral howl into the night sky. Blue and white lights glimmer beautifully across his sleek body as he releases his enormous rage upon the world. His partner, wearing Artful Dodge Jeans with a blue gothic pattern on the side, and a t-shirt boasting a giant symbol of a grenade, stands in solemn menace, intimidating any unlucky enough to meet his gaze.

BUFFER
Weighing in at a combined weight of 505 pounds, they hail from South Central Los Angeles, they are Vincent “Whitey” Santana, Marcellus “One-Eye” Wallacet hey are the SOUTH – CENTRAL – MILITIAAAAAAAAAAA!!! 

The spectators welcome the end of the introduction with more disdain for these sickening goons. Quite dissimilar to many teams, who usually don't pay attention to such disrespect from the audience, the natives of South Central dish out verbal trashing to each attendee they encounter until they reach the squared circle. They dive into the ring, and ascend to opposite turnbuckle where their fists pump into the air in defiant triumph. The camera rotates around their rebellious ritual, as the chilling [color="#0000FF"][b]blue[/b][/color] lights continue to dance along the ringside area.

COLE
It's interesting, The South Central Militia beat the stuffing out of Jim Cornette because he never got them a tag title shot like he promised. A year later they still hadn't got their shot, until they simply asked Chicks Over Dicks for one. Alix and Krista, who will basically give a title shot to anyone no matter if they deserve it or not, obliged the request, and we're here today.

COACH
This is why I'm through with white women, Cole, because they're crazy. You can't go giving these niggas title matches all WILLY NILLY. You gotta have some order about this! The niggas out in these parts is wild, and if you keep putting your title on the line and it's only a matter of time before one of them takes it from you. Just you watch. The more you fight the more you lose.

A [color=#FF0000][b]red[/color][/b] pyro waterfall illuminates the entrance stage, and all eyes lock onto the currently vacant entranceway. The sonic drum beats of Sugarcult's [i]Los Angeles[/i] rip to life while the red waterfall is courted by a beautiful [color=#FF3399][b]pink[/color][/b]  pyro fountain. Standing next to the gorgeous display of pyrotechnics are miniature Angletrons, showcasing COD's entrance video, a highlight reel filled with clips of their breathtaking moves, interspersed with fly through images of the City of Angels, and shots of the champions in various seductive poses.

COACH
My ears are about be destroyed.

[b]BOOOOOM!!![/b]

A violent explosion of [color=#FFFF33][b]gold[/color][/b] pyro destroys the once docile pyrotechnics showing, and causes the capacity crowd to put forth a gargantuan cheer. As the smoke clears, Krista Isadora Duncan emerges through the hazy remnants of the fireworks. She sports a stomach exposing red Obey™ tank top that reads "Make Art. Not War" and a black open sided mini skirt that reveals her entire left leg, a show of skin that's always a crowd favourite! Her baby blue eyes cut a hole through her ring based rivals, while she strikes an alluring pose for the screaming audience.

BUFFER
And the cham......(a huge cheer rises from the stands, drowning out the announcer)....And the champions, 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 the OAOAST world tag team champions, America's Sweethearts, Chicks Over Dicks! 

Amidst the resonating cries Alix Maria Spezia skips out through the entrance way in a white tie-up front tube top that's cropped all the way to the chest and white booty shorts. Although her fur wristbands, scarf, and leg warmers are fake, the excitement of the fans is very real as they watch her settle down long enough to join hands with Krista. Krista twirls Alix around, then pulls her into her arms. Alix turns over her shoulder and blows a cute kiss to the camera, leading super imposed red lips to pop on the screen.  Yes, I know I just copied that entrance from AP. I'm busy in the hustle, fuck you if you ain't know.

COLE
Both these teams hail from Los Angeles, but the similarities end right their. One group grew up on the one side of the tracks and is still struggling to pull themselves out of the violence filled slums, another team grew up in the lap of trendy Southern California luxury, and continues to reside their. But it's the team of the poor lower class that has drawn the hatred of the audience with their heinous actions over the course of their time in the OAOAST.

Seeking to gain the upper hand before the girls get an opportunity to squash them like ghetto dwelling cockroaches, Vinny and Moe ambush the champions the moment they enter the ring, exploding clubbing forearms across their backs. Unfortunately for the brutish pair, their easily won advantage is handily stripped from them in a matter of seconds. The girls whirl around and simultaneously slash their hand across their assailant's faces. The sound of the open hand slaps wreaking havoc on on the SCM's' visages brings cheers to audience's throats and tears to the eyes of the challengers. Their situation turns even more deadly when Alix effortlessly dropkicks Santana to the outside. While he lays on the mats, grousing over his condition, his partner is left defenseless against the champions' whims. And what brutal whims they are! They tie One Eye into the ropes, leaving his body dangerously unprotected. He whimpers pitiful pleas for mercy, but his requests can hardly be heard over the shouts of the capacity crowd.  Alix drops to all fours in the center of the ring, and Krissy takes off to the ropes to build momentum. When she reaches her better half, she leaps onto her  bare back and uses it as a launching pad to catapault herself towards a weeping Wallace She soars forward like a majestic gazelle before, before descending upon One Eye to carve up his face with her boot. The California native topples out of the ring, giving company to his partner's misery. Krista, who's having too much fun trouncing the witless pairing, follows them outside to inflict further pain. But before she continues her trouncing, she gives a treat to ring side fan holding a camera phone. She strikes several centerfoldesque poses for the would be photographer while flashes from other nearby cameras shower the area in a white glow.

“C-O-D! C-O-D! C-O-D!”

COLE
Fans, don't forget that the OAOAST has teamed up with Ebay, and The Tibetan Freedom Organization to bring you a brilliant [url="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y39/Portfree/auc2.jpg"]charity auction[/url], where you can win a chance to spend a day with Chicks Over Dicks. The winner will be announced on the February 15th edition of HeldDOWN!

The lawbreakers try to acquire a moment of respite in the face of this unbridled trashing. But Krista permits them nary a second's rest, and the OAOAST's top model chucks Vinny back into the ring. Jelly legs raise him from the mat where he witnesses the usually cheery Alix creep towards him with a murderous glare. Fraught with fear, he begins to beg Alix to take pity on his mortal soul. But before the words can leave his lips, The Hollywood Bad Girl is flying towards him, arm out stretched with a high flipping lariat. The chocolate haired tornado impacts perfectly with his chest and sinks him to the canvas. Just as the pain begins to take hold of his body, Ally Cat brings him to his feet and tosses him into the ropes. He bounds back to her, narrowly avoiding her leaping sidekick, and charges to the opposite cables. Frustrated with his last avoidance, Alix uses her smooth as silk legs to try and decapitate him with a superkick upon his return. But Whitey is able to put the breaks on quickly enough to evade her death-dealing strike. This latest evasion leads to a strategy change for Ally, and she carts herself to the ropes to attempt another high flipping lariat. However, Santana stymies that plan by intercepting her return with a standing spinebuster. But Alix reacts with cat like reflexes, cinching her left arm around his head, and plummeting backwards to scatter what little brains sit in his head with a DDT! Alix celebrates the brain damage she's caused  by standing up and striking the “Heisman” pose despite never having watched a game of college football in her life.

COACH
(frothing at the mouth)
That's Princess Stacey to you, Cole!

COLE
What the hell?

Once she's done doing her best Troy Smith impression, the lovely Miss Spezia hauls her battered and beaten foe to his BAPE shoes. She grabs him into an arm wrench, twisting his limb so roughly, you'd think she was about to pull it out it's socket. As she holds the tormented body part above her head, Alix engages in a round of sexy showboating, gyrating her slender hips, shaking her wabbit tail, and slithering up and down to the audience's immense pleasure. Vincent, however, is far too concerned with the white hot pain in his arm to notice that a hot babe is currently jiggling and wiggling her assets in front of his very eyes. What doesn't escape his notice is Alix letting go of his arm, and trapping him into a front facelock. Alarm bells shriek inside of Vinny's head at the thought of enduring another concussion inducing DDT. Thus the panicky thug, places his hands onto Al's bare stomach and roughly shoves her away. Before she can even make an effort to reacquire the front face lock, the so called baddest man in Los Angeles, is directing a spear towards the so called baddest woman in Los Angeles. But Alix leap frogs her incoming attacker, causing him to blindly charge into an unknown abyss. Unlike Vincent, Wallace is keenly aware of his ring position, and extends his hand forward for a blind tag when White nears. While his out of control partner nearly runs himself out the ring, Wallace makes a graceful entry, lobbing his gloved hand towards Alix's face. But Ally avoids his attacks, and counters with a blow of her own, dropping to the mat, and slicing her legs into his Artful Dodger jeans. Her blow knocks One Eye totally off balance, and upends him from his lime green Nike shoes. Wallace drowns into the canvas, his dark eyes momentarily blinded by the flickering ceiling lights. The brightness of the lights is quickly engulfed by the harrowing darkness of Alix's fur covered boots descending upon his face. Acting out of supernatural speed, Moe rolls away from her double stomp. Obviously she lands on her feet, and with a devilish gaze still set on One Eye, she's in the perfect position to strike him down with a ruthless attack. As he begins to rise to his feet, she moves in for the kill. Her right foot uses his left leg as a launching pad to shoot her into the air. Her other foot extends forward like a bullet, ready to tear through his face. But he avoids the volley, by lowering his head, causing her once deathly move to sail harmlessly past. His blinged out teeth flash a sly smile at his avoidance. But this smile is turned into a grimace of sheer pain the second Alix slams her foot into the back of his head! The force of the strike timbers a howling One Eye to the canvas, where Alix immediately leaps on him for a pin. Ubiquitous referee Charles Robinson scores the fall....

CROWD
ONE

CROWD
TWO

One Eye kicks out in a most authoritative fashion, using his strength to fling Ally Cat several inches into the air. Despite this show of power, he's apparently in no mood to deal with the brunette beauty, and rolls to his corner to bring his associate back into the affair.

COACH
(frothing at the mouth)
That's Princess Stacey to you, Cole!

COLE
Damn it, Coachman!

While Mikey contemplates shooting his broadcast colleague, Alix marks Vincent's entry into the contest with a corner splash. But Santana counters the strike by latching onto her twiggy waist and dropping backwards to give her face first plunge into the poorly padded top turnbuckle. He doesn't present her a single moment to lick her wounds, and pulls off the posts by her luscious hair. The spunky Californian heroically attempts to battle against her aggressor with a pair of elbows. But he locks her down with a standing underhook that's much too tight to break through. He then fires a trio of barbarous knees into Alix's well toned stomach, that have her whimpering and gasping for air. Eventually, he lays that act to rest and moves into the grand finale by picking Ally up and implanting her into the mat with an underhook suplex. He follows that simple but effective hold with a lateral press.

ONE


TWO

Alix scrapes her shoulder off the mat, letting the crowd breathe a sigh of relief. Perceiving that to have been a slow count, Whitey Ford gives an earful to the ref as he pulls Alix to her feet. Sadly for him, his short debate with the official gave Alix the distraction she needed to break away from his clutches She puts her new found freedom to excellent use, directing a calvary of elbows towards his goateed face. The rapier sharp blows dance across his orbital socket, turning his eye a shade of crimson and dribbling blood from it's corner. Leaving Vincent to attend to an eye that's rapidly swelling shut, the cute Californian speeds towards the ring ropes. The orange cables spit her back towards her foe with her head lowered into a battering ram. But Vinny manages to avoid being skewered by her cranium by leap frogging into the air. This avoidance doesn't get him totally out of the woods, however, and Alix runs the opposite ropes, still dead set on puncturing his stomach with her skull. Acting on sheer desperation, Santana drops down to his chest, praying that she'll trip over his lanky frame on her return. But Alix calls on a technique she learned in sixth grade gymnastics, and gracefully cartwheels over his sprawled out body. Whitey Ford pulls himself to his feet, where he plans on flooring Alix with a lariat. Problematically, Alix is nowhere near him, having instead taken position on the ring apron. Whitey foolishly charges her, lowering his broad shoulder in order to knock her into the laps of his amigos at the Spanish announce table. Ally Cat evades the deadly trip to the outside by slingshotting herself into the ring and landing onto the second rope. The brawler tries to swat her away like a common house fly, but she avoids the strike with bewitching ease, back flipping herself towards the center of the ring. Outraged and dizzied by Ally's impressive speed, Vince darts towards her, employing an elbow strike in his quest to blast her off the face of the earth.

“WU-TANG CLAN AIN'T NOTHING TO FUCK WITH!” Alix “Ol Dirty Bastard” Spezia screams before she uses her faux-fur covered boots to obliterate an oncoming Vince's nose with a dropsault. While Vincent suffers through a hellish plummet to the mat, Alix lands with the divine grace of an angel dropped from the heavens above. To toast to her trumping of the hooligan, the white, upper class, near middle aged female throws up the Wu-Tang hand signal, and the predominantly white middle aged male, lower middle class audience eagerly returns the gesture. While her fellow Shaolin Monks chant her name,  the new Ghostface Killa attempts her team's first pin fall.

CROWD
ONE

CROWD
TWO

Vincent kicks out of the pinning predicament, coughing up a wad of fur as he does so. Bored with thrashing the luckless pair from South Central, Alix decides to let Krista in on the fun. Thus she [i]moonwalks[/i] to her corner and makes the tag to her surly partner. The arrival of Miss California into the fray earns the usual enormous ovation from the onlookers. However, Krista has little reason to cheer, due to the fact that Vince slams his massive fist into her jaw the moment she enters the ring. The fist the size of a football smacks her again, and she teeters off balance, only being held up by her grip of the cables. Wham, he smacks her with the left. Wham, he smacks her with the right. The ex-convict rears back and swings once again. This time, Krista has the good sense to duck the agony inducing blow. The ruffian's hand crashes into the ringpost, sending aggravating vibrations up his arm. Krista recomposes herself quickly in order to take advantage of the rapidly closing window of opportunity. In a single fluid motion, the fitness queen jabs her elbow into the man's kidney. Except somehow, miraculously, Vincent grabs her wrist with his uninjured hand and stops her thrust shortly before it can tear into his rough skin. He then takes his tremoring hand and stabs it straight into her shoulder blades, generating a deep throated scream of anguish from Miss California. The South Central warrior chuckles to himself, pulls his hand back then thrusts forward again. Somehow, Krista is able to dodge the incoming bomb. The momentum of the blow carries Vincent into the corner, where Krissy promptly proceeds to shred his skin with flesh searing knife edge chops. But after the sixth strike lands, Vincent angrily rips Krista's attacking hand away from his chest. He places a savagely tight grip on her fingers, laughing to himself while he watches her cry out in misery. He adds on to her incredible pain, by swinging his knee into her ample chest. Krista feels a rib crack, then gasps for the air that's suddenly deserted her. Whitey swings again and does an inordinate amount of damage to her other rib. A third swing, then a fourth, and a fifth, and Krissy staggers backwards to the center of the ring.

COLE
Here we witness the SCM, well, mostly Vincent, using his brawling ability to simply overpower the much smaller Krista. If they're serious about winning these tag team titles, then this is the strategy they have to employ.

As sweat sprinkles down her reddened face, her blue eyes spot the fearsome sight of her foe looming towards her. All at once the mammoth's hands wrap around her throat. They dangerously tighten, digging into her tanned skin, and nearly stopping her from breathing. She scans the ring, frantically searching for any weapon she can use in her war against the delinquent wrestler. Perhaps if this was a hardcore match, there'd be plunder to unearth. But it's just a regular ass contest, and Krista, simply put, is fucked. Unable to accept the fact that she's about to lose this contest by strangulation, Kris makes an admirable effort to pry his death grip away. Santana counters this attempt by simply bulldozing her back into the turnbuckles.

“LET'S GO KRISTA! LET'S GO KRISTA!” bleat the audience, led on by Alix.

COLE
Shouldn't Robinson be doing something right about now? Like, say, disqualifying Vincent for use of an illegal chokehold?

COACH
Robinson's refereeing has been the abomination of the tag team division for the past month, and I consider it a shame and a disgrace that he's even allowed to work anything but dark matches.

Miss California somehow finds the strength to drive her boot into his knee. Whitey grimaces and attempts to step back, his hands still locked onto Krissy's throat. The sudden movement takes Kris away from the corner, but loosens the grip just enough that she's able to step onto the second rope. With blazingly fast speed, she tosses herself off her post and [b]rakes her nails across Vinny's eyes[/b]! The unusual usage of the ropes scores a large cheer from the capacity crowd, but more importantly it finally rids Krista of the vexatious chokehold. The man screams and staggers, wildly clawing at his burning eyes. Krissy hops to her snowboots, then slams those same shoes into his meaty chest with a crowd popping dropkick that drives him to the middle of the ring. With one hand nursing his wounded pecs, Vinny uses his free arm to fend off Krissy with sloppy forearm strikes. She responds with a forearm smash of her own, but Whitey Ford uses his chunky arm to shield himself from the blow. Caught momentarily off balance by the deflection, she is unable to prevent him from hip tossing her over. But she recovers mid move and gracefully rolls through, landing on her knees in the SCM corner. 

COACH
Love for my thugs, but that was a lazy move right there. You're a heavyweight so use heavyweight moves, don't be fooling around, hip tossing people like you're a middleweight. If you got power, then, dawg, you gotta use it.

The SoCal babe springs to her feet and deals a bemused Santana a vexing blow by once again jamming her fingers into his bronze eyes. As the fans cheer her underhanded tactic, Krista begins to turn her attention towards the long forgotten Wallace. However Vinny is unwilling to let bygones be bygones, and despite his near blindness, he manages to accost the femme fatale with a full nelson. With Krista held in a prone position by his comrade, One-Eye enters the squared circle and charges forward to exact a measure of revenge on their rival. Yet Krista counters his attack by bending her body forward, leaving One-Eye's lariat to mow down his battered compatriot! 

“YEAAAAAH!” 

Krissy acts on her deep rooted hatred for all heterosexual men by needlessly pumping her boot into Wallace's “frank and beans”! Shortly thereafter he's cursed with an even more miserable brand of hurt when Alix darts from her corner and caves in his chest with a dropsault! The tremendous force of the blow sends a screaming Wallace plunging backwards, where his sizable posterior lands squarely on his mortified partner's face. This is most certainly not an enviable position for Vince, considering that Wallace hasn't change his underwear in two weeks. While Vinny bemoans his partner's rancid stench, the girls celebrate their total thumping of their buffoonish challengers. Krista offers Alix exaggerated and overly theatric praise for her prowess and Alix feigns purposely over acted modesty, refusing to accept the compliments.

“C-O-D! C-O-D! C-O-D!”

COACH
Once Vinny gets done tossing Moe's salad we can continue this contest, until then, let's get some of that sweet ad revenue. 

(GO TO BREAK)

(RETURN FROM BREAK)

We return to in ring action with Wallace foisting Ally into the sky with a vertical suplex. After a six second delay he dives backwards crunching her bones into the canvas. He then floats over into a lateral press, which Robinson quickly scores...

ONE

TWO

Alix kicks out, and clambers away through the gap between both their bodies. She hops upright, ready to lock horns with the gangbanger. But he takes off in the opposite direction, bouncing off the ropes. His urban flavored footwear move his clotheslining body back towards the champion. But that attack fails to land thanks to Alix taking hold of his attacking arm. His dark face goes white with fear, as he wonders what hellish technique she has in store for him. She answers that question by bending his out of balance body back, and slamming his spine across her knee. While his yells drench the air in fright, she lifts him up, and drives him forward, gruesomely impacting his gut onto her other leg. Alix finally completes her theatre of pain by crashing him downwards with the True Life: I Just got beat up by a girl (STO)! As the audience cheers on her trademark move, she attempts a pinfall.

CROWD
ONE 

CROWD
TWO

Before the referee's hand can strike the mat for a second time, Wallace powers his body out of the pinfall and rolls onto his flabby stomach. He pushes himself to his feet where he is met with a sharp knee to the his protruding gut from his rival. She scrambles to the ropes, then pounces across the ring to hit her doubled over enemy with a kick to the chest. The tremendous force of the blow rockets his body upward, and heaves a wad of spit from his mouth. As One Eye staggers groggily, she makes another trip to the cables. But her return is far less fruitful then previous efforts, and Wallace overtakes her with a belly to belly suplex! However, Alix shifts her body in midair and manages to land on her feet to the audience's delight. Wallace is disheartened by her counter, and the emotional windfall causes him to offer a pedestrian Irish whip as his next offensive move. However the champion easily reverses the hold. Before he can run the ropes Alix catches his left arm, and uses it to whirl One Eye in front of her. With the raucous crowd singing her name, Miss Spezia clutches onto his neck, then cranks it with a swinging neckbreaker! Leaving the man to moan in misery, she takes off to the cables, preparing to return with a running shooting star press. Yet Wallace has other ideas within the twisted recess of his mind. Betraying the hurt in his neck, he springs up when Alix is only a few inches away from him. Thanks to the short distance separating them, she isn't able to offer an offensive move, and instead can only brace herself for the impact of his spinebuster! The savage ending of the slam rocks the ring to it's very core. While the audience boos his hold, he pulls Alix up by her aching head. He lands a few well placed elbows to the small of her back to keep the plucky lass under control while he drags her to his corner. A tag is then applied to the detestable shitkicker Vincent Santana.

COLE
While the Militia switches out, let me remind our fans in Ottawa, Albuquerque, Baltimore, and Cleveland, that we will be visiting your area for live events within the month of February, and tickets still remain!

Alix rises to her feet, to face the entering brute. But the beast comes at her so fast, that she has little time to defend herself before she's rammed into turnbuckles behind her. The ropes shake from the impact of the collision and a distressed whimper leaves her lips. The criminal's hot breath blasts in her face, and his bloodthirty growl thunders in her ears as he closes in. Drool drips from his lips in anticipation of lighting her up with fierce strikes. But Alix refuses to grant him the chance to act on these desires. In one fluid motion she scales up to the second turnbuckle, then flies off, and hooks onto his extended left arm. She twirls around, violently jerking his limb, then slamming it into the mat with a tornado single arm ddt! He quickly rises, ready to belt Alix into the tenth row with a crazed haymaker. But the California cutie once again stymies his plans, doing further damage to his arm with a crowd popping single arm DDT. Vincent once again makes the mistake of jumping straight to his feet, and his chin pays the harsh price for his folly as Alix pounds a dropsault into it. She lands beautifully on her feet, while he suffers through a disastrous dive into the floor.

COLE
Vincent Santana getting single armed ddt'ed, and dropsaulted, and he doesn't look any worse for the wear. Although, his partner doesn't look that concerned with his plight.

COACH
I think Marcellus Wallace cares more about his white chocolate prince's feelings then you'd expect.

Alix strolls over to her corner and makes the tag to Krista, who sarcastically mouthes the word “Thanks”. Why the sarcasm? Because the bullish ruffian is on his feet, with fire blazing from his horns. Needless to say, Krissy isn't overly tickled at the prospects of trying to tame this ferocious beast. She holds her hands in front of her body, palms first, while frantically imploring Santana to ”settle down, dude!” To absolutely no one's surprise Vinny doesn't grant Kris' request, deciding instead to try and knock her out of the ring with a shoulder tackle! The shot knocks Krista flat on her back, drawing concerned gasps from several teenage girls in the front row. Against her usually sound judgment, the pride of HelLA jumps to her feet, only to get belted with another shoulder tackle! Grolwing with feral tenacity, Vinny takes a chunk of her lush hair and drags her to her feet. After pelting her sweat drenched forehead with two closed fists, he hurls her across the ring with an Irish whip. On her return she attempts to go on the offensive by firing a flying forearm at her enemy. Somehow the snarling rottweiler is able to catch onto her attacking arm and then take her into an urange backbreaker. But as soon he plants her in front of his body, the delicious bombshell wraps her lovely legs around his torso, and vacuums him into a rollup.

CROWD
ONE

CROWD
TWO

Vincent shoots his shoulder off the canvas well before the referee can reach three. He springs to his feet, where he directs a harmful lariat towards hisopponent. However the remarkably quick diva denies herself a visit to the emergency room, by avoiding the move and spinning behind Santana to hook him into a waistlock! What Krista plans on doing with a waistlock applied on a man who weighs several hundred pounds more then her is beyond the audience's comprehension. In fact, it's beyond even her comprehension. Thus she gives up on playing the David to his Goliath, and shifts to a much simpler inverted facelock. She violently hauls him downward with an inverted DDT that forces a pained yelp from his throat. KID pays no heed to his frantic cries, and rolls him upright with the inverted facelock still attached. She dives forward, clattering his lanky frame to the mat with a second inverted DDT. While the spectators sing her name, she brings herself and her foe to their feet for a third and final inverted DDT. But Vincent mounts a stringent defense, snapping his knee into the side of her head. The attack has immediate effects on Krista, and causes her grip to loosen. Whitey Ford offers a second knee to her cheek, and the hold further weakens. The third strike turns out to be a charm and her grasp is shattered altogether. Finally free of her clutches, Vincent retries his failed lariat attempt. Already having to deal with a serious migraine, Kris has no chance of countering Santana's latest lariat, and finds herself bowled over by the lunge.

COACH
Vinny's moves ain't nothing pretty, but if he hits 'em in the right place, then they get the job done.

Whitey Ford starts to lift Krissy off the canvas, and quickly finds his clothesline didn't do nearly the amount of the damage he thought it did, as Krista starts winging boisterous elbows deep into his ribs! The rougneck makes a valiant attempt to strike back, but KID hits him often enough to keep him off balance. She pulls herself fully upright, then swings behind her lumbering rival and secures an inverted facelock. More DDTs? Not if Vinny has anything to say about it! A succession of knee strikes breaks the hold and snuffs out all hope of for the maneuverer. Once again free from Krista's grasp, Vincent spins around with the intention of breaking her nose with a forearm smash. But  his attacking limb never even gets near her face, as Krista sinks to the mat and topples the Militia member with a drop toe hold! The rock solid canvas pierces into his face, and he shrieks in agony. Krista curses him with even more anguish when she pulls him into a pinning predicament with an Oklahoma roll! Robinson hits the mat to count the pinning situation.

CROWD
ONE


CROWD
TWO

Vincent pulls his shoulder off the mat at the last possible second, drawing a number of jeers from the crowd. 

For some completely insane reason, [i]Marcellus Wallace[/i] has decided to try his luck against KID's surging momentum. He storms into the ring, wishing to catch her off guard as she heads upright. But private school educated Krista is much too smart to fall for public school educated Wallace's lamebrained schemes, and greets his charge by horsewhipping his face with a ghastly spin kick! The repulsive sound of Krista's shoe obliterating the bone structure in the man's face brings forth a round of applause from the bloodlusting heathens in attendance. [i]Vincent[/i], now recovered form his earlier mistreatment, tries to do what his partner failed to accomplish, and best this vexing vixen. But the second he stands up, a pair of knee strikes are stabbed into his midsection. Krista cinches in a front facelock and grabs a wad of his jeans, as she prepares to annihilate his brain matter with an Implant DDT. But Santana uses his overwhelming strength to shove the femme fatale away from him. While she struggles to stay on her feet he pivots on his left foot and whirls around to unleash a viscous discus punch. However, Krista delays the move indefinitely by thrusting her boot into his midsection! Then she locks him down with a front underhook. She doesn't even afford him a nanosecond to mount an escape, as she leaps backwards driving his already aching head into the mat with a Double Arm DDT! With a quizzical look resting on her face, Miss California turns to the audience and asks in mock seriousness “Can a bitch get a hand clap?”

Not only can a bitch get a hand clap but a bitch can also get a chant of “K-I-D! K-I-D!” The better question is can a bitch get a successful title defense? We're about to see as Krista goes for a pinfall!

CROWD
ONE

CROWD
TWO

A recovered Wallace grabs a fistful of Krista's hair and pulls her off his associate. Unfortunately for him, Krista is beyond outraged that he would dare to lay his grubby mits on her dazzling sun colored locks. Seething with raw anger, she takes her disgust out on his ugly face, slicing it apart with twriling savate kicks! The ferocity of her blows manage to push One-Eye across the squared circle and to the ropes. She glowers balefully at him, before piercing her boots into his chocolate skin with a spinning wheel kick! The strength of the crowd pleasing volley tosses One Eye overboard, and to the black ringside mats bellow. Thankfully for his squad, he manages to land on his feet, much to the disturbance of the chaos hungry crowd. In a rare show of intelligence, he doesn't bother to step back into the ring with the crazed champion, choosing instead to stay on the outside and catch a much needed breath.

COLE
I think Krista could win this match all by herself!

Vinny obviously lacks the good sense of his partner, and charges towards the champion, coming fast and furious with a forearm smash. But Krista encounters little trouble in dealing with her maniacal challenger, grabbing onto the the top rope, and jerking it downward when he nears in order capsize him out of the squared circle. Her hope was that he would be forced to tolerate a horrific (but comedic) crash landing to the outside floor. But Whitey simply splatters his thin body across the ring apron. That's not a problem for Krista, who reaches between the ropes to grab him by the rat's nest of black hair on his head. She drags the dizzied pugilist into the ring and wraps her hands around him in a front face lock. She tightens her grip, making sure her forthcoming DDT will be executed to it's most deadly precision. Unfortunately she soon learns the best laid plans of mice and lipstick butch lesbians often go awry, for Wallace, seeing a golden opportunity to turn the tides of fate to his team's favor, grabs onto Krista's right boot. The sudden tug on her foot causes her to lose all balance, and she teeters backwards, her grasp on Vinny quickly evaporating. Santana feels her hold loosen, and immediately works the abrupt change to his advantage, shifting his frame so that he leans into her stomach. When Wallace sees that his comrade is in perfect position, he lays his master plan to work and yanks her foot off the canvas, tipping her backwards to the mat! Vincent is forced to follow her downwards, but adjusts his body in midfall so that he lands on her in a lateral press! Charles Robinson, oblivious to the SCM's shenanigans, secures his title as  the OAOAST's worst referee and actually counts the pin. Wallace makes sure that Krista has zero chance to kick out by pressing his upperbody onto both of her feet.....

ONE

COLE
Robinson, pay attention, you goof!


TWO


ALIX COMES IN TO BREAK UP THE FALL! 
THREE!

Wondering if the save was made it in time, a distressed Ally Cat looks to the official for the crucial answer. She gets her reply when the referee strolls towards the time keeper and orders him to the ring the bell! A distraught Alix sinks her face into mat, and furiously pounds her fist into surface in sheer disbelief.

[b][color="#808080"]DING DING DING[/color][/b]

COLE
No, no, no, no, no! That didn't just happen! No it didn't!

The official announcement does absolutely nothing to assuage Cole and the audience's greatest fears. ..

BUFFER
The winner and new tag team champions......The South...Central Militia?

The audience is just as confused as the ring announcer, but are far more vocal with their disgust for the disgraceful outcome.

COLE
Motherfuckers!

COACH
Michael!

COLE
Those motherfuckers! One of them worked as a pimp and the other was a drug dealer! And now they're tag team champions! And they cheated! They cheated, in the most obvious way you can possibly cheat! Marcellus Wallace was lying on top of Krista's legs, how does a known racist like Charles Robinson not see a six foot seven black man on a white woman's legs! A white woman who is the partner of a half Mexican woman!

COACH
Why you gotta get racial in this piece?! Why can't a black man and a white man just get they shine on together without it being something about race?  And since when is Charles Robinson a known racist? Man, you're talking some wrong words tonight. Slow ya roll, soldier. And isn't Alix Italian?

The crowd, many of whom are on their fourth and fifth beers, spew out an enraged procession of vulgarities. Most chant bullshit, while others scream insults and threats towards Robinson and the SCM that even I wouldn't dare to type. Fans in the front row implore the referee to watch a replay, to see that the Militia won the match by improper means. But C-Rob remains unmoved by their requests, and hands the titles over to the new champions. This gesture only further serves to inflame the fiery rage that's taken hold of the arena. The new champs, however, celebrate their ridiculous victory by doing the even more ridiculous [url="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I_1nO94Ogpc"]"finger snap" dance[/url] made popular by Lil Jon. So thrilled by their “victory”, they even enlist Charles Robinson in their hip hop inspired dance routine. Krista, as you can no doubt imagine, is slightly less then pleased with the outcome. She devotes her energy to threatening to carve out of the official's vital organs in alphabetical order, and feed them to her dog while she makes his family watch.

COLE
Unbelievable. What a load of crap. You can hook someone's tights, or put your foot on the ropes and kind of get away with it. But this was an elaborate two minute cheating routine, that only Stevie Wonder wouldn't have noticed. These two men are nothing but uneducated, boorish, violence prone goons. They hardly have any actual wrestling training and have no right to ever hold any OAOAST title.

COACH
This title win ain't for you it's for the streets. All the young bloods in hood are gonna see this and they're gonna realize they don't gotta be in the trap dealin dope, or pimpin' hoes, or shooting each other up to get by. They can make it in this world by honest means.

COLE
That's just it, the SCM didn't win by honest means

The mood of the crowd changes from violent anger to just plain hostile when they witness OAOAST authority figure Anglesault make his way onto the entrance stage. Unlike the audience, The SCM aren't exactly thrilled to behold the former OAOAST world champion. They watch with great anxiety, as he prepares to address the troubling situation.

ANGLESAULT
It would seem we have a bit of problem that needs solving...

“No shit, Pythagoreaus!” Krista screams.

ANGLESAULT
I know what you all want me to do. You want me to exercise my authority, overrule The South Central Militia victory, and restart the match so you can witness the good girls win the good fight. Well, it troubles me to be the bearer of such horrible news. But the problem is, your's is a wish even the great and powerful Anglesault can not grant. Unfortunately, the highly complex rules of the tag division state that in a title match, the referee's decision is [b]final[/b].

“BULLSHIT! BULLSHIT!” holler the audience.

ANGLESAULT
Hey, I wish it was, because I don't like the result any more then you do. As the man who's responsible for the welfare of this company it pains me more then anyone to have to say this,but the ruling will not be overturned. The South Central Militia are the new OAOAST tag team champions!

“BOOOOOO!” scream the fans, while the relieved SCM celebrate their boss' ruling by resuming their finger snapping dance.

“Okay, time for this asshole to die.” Krista mutters as she starts to step through the ropes to get at her annoying employer.

ANGLESAULT
Now, now. Before everyone starts hurling garbage my way, and you all start calling for my freshly decapitated head and a resignation letter signed in my blood, give me a chance to finish. I definitely don't think it's fair that the titles changed hands under such dubious circumstances. And, while I can't overturn the ref's decision, I'm the boss in this town, and I can sure as hell do everything in my power to make sure those titles go back where they belong! Alix and Krista, how would you ladies like a rematch for the most coveted prize in all of tag team wrestling?

KRISTA
No. No we don't want a rematch. We're perfectly happy with being cheated by Markie Mark, and this Doug E. Doug looking [i]Cool Runnings[/i] reject he calls a partner. Of course we want a rematch, you  douche! Now be a good thirty five year old shut in virgin and give it to us!

ANGLESAULT
Then let's do it right here tonight! In fact let's do it right [i]now[/i]!

The audience spews forth a thunderous ovation for AS' ruling. Krista, who can't be satisfied with anything done by a white Christian heterosexual male, just smirks slightly. Alix, who stopped paying attention to the ordeal long ago, is too focused on her intense game of [i]Barbie in the city[/i] on her cell phone to care.  The Ying-Yang twins abruptly cut short their dance party, and react to the ruling by shouting bestial threats on the boss' life. Vincent leans over the ropes and challenges the OAOAST legend to a street fight, which certainly peaks the audience's excitement. One Eye takes up the role of advocate for his team and demands that Robinson interject himself into this travesty. Charles replies that if he had known of the SCM's wicked ways, he never would've allowed their tag title victory to count.

COLE
Folks, when we come back the tag titles are on the line. Again!

(GO TO BREAK)

(RETURN FROM BREAK)

COLE
Welcome back to HeldDOWN, where The South Central Militia have just started their first tag title defense against the former champions Chicks Over Dicks. Your ears aren't playing tricks on you, The South Central Militia, cheated, scammed, and tricked their way to a tag title victory. This is not a dream. If it was I'd be sitting next to a young Sean Connery, when he's wearing nothing but a wink and a smile.

COACH
I don't see why Krista was so upset. If you let anyone take a shot at your belts, then anything can happen. Did I not say just letting random people have title matches with you was a bad idea? I swear I did say that. I would think Alix would've learned this from her 24/7 title fiasco, but I doubt she can remember anything past last week.

In the ring, Wallace finds himself under fire from a swarm of rapid fire kicks from Ally Cat. Unable to defend himself from the fast moving blows he's helplessly backed into the corner. She follows him in, providing him with not a moment's rest. After tossing a kiss to a little boy in the front row, she whips the current champion across the ring. But midway through the move, One Eye reverses it and throws her to the turnbuckles. Annoying the SCM to no end, she evades a gruesome collision with the steel turnbuckle by pressing her hands onto the top rope and springing backwards. However the agile counter does not come without it's pitfalls, as Wallace hooks onto her tan and toned legs and throws her forward, making an attempt to imprint her features onto the corner posts. But as she sails through the air, she puts her hands in front of her face to avoid a grizzly introduction with the ringposts. Unfortunately her left knee wasn't as lucky as her facial features, and twists it disgustingly as her feet plant into the mat. Despite her best efforts to do so, her grimacing face can't mask the intense pain besieging her left leg. Wallace detects his rival's afflicted state and stalks the brunette as she clumsily hobbles about the squared circle. He closes in on his victim, huffing and puffing like a psychotic wolf. He wraps Alix arm around his head, ties his arms around her slender waist, then foists the challenger high into the sky. He delays his move for about eleven seconds, lending Alix time to contemplate the grievous error she and her gal-pal committed in angering the SCM. After the clock ticks twelve, he slams Alix's left leg across his outstretched knee with a knee breaker.  While the crowd tries to rally the adored babyface, One Eye grabs onto her left leg and holds it horizontal to the mat. Showing technique that betrays his stupefying lack of wrestling ability, Marcellus then drapes his right leg across Alix's left. Finally he drops down and beautifully impacts her  leg into the floor! The tormented crowd favorite screams into the night, drawing tears from many a young fan, and putting a devious grin on  One Eye's face 

COACH
The champs pulling out a new moves from their bags of tricks!

COLE
Oh please.

COACH
That's Princess Stacy to you, Cole!

Marcellus elevates a grounded Alix's burdened left leg, then swiftly buries an elbow into the sore part of her inner knee. Alix pulls her sweat soaked upper body off the mat, howling in chilling agony. The expert camera work gets a telling shot of a twelve year old girl crying as she watches her heroine get brutalized by this hooligan. Looking to inflict even more harm upon the perfectly sculpted sculpted body of Alix Spezia, One Eye conjures up the makings of a figure four leg lock. But during the pivotal part, where he has to turn his back to Alix the challenger stuns him by using her good leg to shove him into the turnbuckles nearest the COD corner! The fans explode with cheers as Wallace endures a freight train worthy collision with the ring posts. The dazed warrior staggers out of the corner and takes himself into a school boy by Alix! The referee makes the count!

CROWD
ONE


CROWD
TWO

One Eye turns a defensive kickout into a clever offensive attack, pressing his sweaty palms onto Alix sweet tushy and pushing her towards the very same turnbuckle he was so rudely introduced to seconds ago! As bad as his crash may have been, Alix's is ten times more repugnant: The alluring lass trips over her own wrestling boots and impales her shoulder on the callous metal ringpost!  The impact is so appalling that even Vincent has to join with the onlookers in shuddering at the head on hit. Moe has little time to admire his violent handiwork, though, and scrapes Alix's carcass away from the accident scene. He then hurls her into the cables, causing a sharp pain to her badly bruised arm. Thankfully, she's able to brush aside the anguish in her shoulder long enough to return to her enemy with a magnificent crossbody block! But One Eye catches her within his broad wingspan and proceeds to propel her overhead with a fallaway slam! But Alix avoids injurious disaster by landing perfectly on her fuzzy boots. She moves with great speed and dashes towards the champion, who greets her incoming charge with a big boot. But she ducks below his volley and carries herself to a vacant corner. As camera flashes litter the tightly packed venue, she escalates to the top turnbuckle and slings herself off with a beautiful flying back elbow! Yet Wallace has enough sense and speed to sidestep the nose-diving grappler. And as an unfortunate result Alix hits the mat with a massive impact, music to the ears of those in the SCM camp. Marcellus crawls over to Ally and hooks her legs for a cover. 

ONE

Alix's left shoulder clears the mat just enough to end the pinfall, earning a grand response from the fans. The failure to secure victory for his squad prompts One Eye to make a begrudging tag to Vincent Santana. Whitey enters the squared circle and concocts a brilliant double team scheme with his long time associate. They pick Alix up by her arms and send her wobbly legs trotting to the ropes. When she returns the vile tribe enclose their hands around her sleek waist and flip her into the sky. They each take a kneeling position and smile sadistically as poor Alix endures a terrible stomach first meeting with their knees. Her piercing shrieks degenerate Krista into a nervous wreck and have her calling for the referee's and the SCM's heads on a silver platter. Vincent pays her threats no mind, as he covers Alix for another pinfall.

ONE

TWO

The Hollywood Bad Girl rolls her shoulder off the mat, leading the crowd to cheer her resiliency. Vinny is far less thrilled with her toughness then the fans and punishes Alix for her vigor with savage stomps. As his boots hammer her skull, he turns to her seething partner, and callously invites her to come rescue the damsel in distress. Krista's temper flares murderously and she eagerly accepts the challenge, stepping into the ring to the crowd's immense pleasure. However the bothersome official steadfastly blocks her entry, leaving Vinny to chuckle with wicked delight. Krista is forced to use what little patience is contained within her body to restrain herself from choking Robinson half to death, and sullenly returns to her position on the apron. Meanwhile, a bone weary Alix begins slogging her way to the ropes to make a much needed tag. But Vincent halts her advance by pouncing upon her and driving his knees into her already bruised ribcage. Alix grits her teeth tightly, nearly grinding them into dust as she tries to cope with the searing pain her foe has left her under Problematically, he continues to bring the hurt to her world by locking her into a destructive sleeper hold. Showing an utter lack of class, he taunts her with a round of vulgar putdowns and sexual themed threats. But his crass  insults are soon drowned out by the raucous crowd who fill the venue with chants of “LET'S GO ALIX! LET'S GO ALIX!” Vincent only snickers at the audience's futile effort to rally their heroine, and turns his body to the side so that he may lock his legs around Alix's thin frame with a body scissors. Alix does her best to fight through unmercifully painful hold, squirming and wiggling her way through her tormentor's  perilous grip. Over in the COD corner, stress plays on Krista's normally beauteous facial features as she pleads with her girlfriend to mount some kind of counter attack.

COACH
Alix is out of it, Mikey! And if the Militia win it the good old fashion way, you have to give them their due props, man.

The crowd is unwilling to admit Alix's defeat, and continues to bleat her name “ALIX! ALIX! ALIX! ALIX!”

Drawing strength on the support shown by Krista and the fans, Alix makes a great effort to fight past the considerable duress she's under. She rolls onto her stomach and digs her nails into the mat as she prepares to undertake the precarious task of journeying to her corner. But with a two hundred plus pound ex-convict attached to her back like a tumor this will certainly be no walk in the park. With each passing moment the exhaustion grows fatally worse, but with each passing moment she also gets slightly closer to Krista. Every member of the audience is on their feet, proudly rooting on Alix as she continues her arduous trek. Vinny tightens his body scissors as much as strength will allow, making every last effort to squeeze the life out of her little body. But Alix stays strong, determined to complete her mission despite the fact that a dangerous blackness is rapidly closing in on her. She nears her corner and weakly reaches out to accept the salvation offered by Krista's trembling hand. The capacity crowd blows the roof off the arena the second the tag is made with a round “KRISTA! KRISTA!” chants.

COACH
I can't believe she actually made it to Krista!

KID enters the ring and is promptly assaulted by a lariat from Marcellus Wallace. She ducks below the only move he actually knows, and uses her momentum to push herself off the ropes. Unaware of the location of his hyperactive opponent, a confused Wallace turns around to get a bead on her. But instead of getting a bead, he gets his nose shifted three inches to the left with a yakuza kick!

Adding insult to his sizable injury, Krista mocks Wallace for the fact that he looks suspiciously like [i]Cool Runnings[/i] star Doug E Doug by doing a Rasta dance and singing the theme song that same Disney movie. “Bobseligh, bobsleigh, we are the Jamaican bobsleigh team!”

Thinking her distracted by using his ally as a verbal punching bag, Vincent suspects that he can surprise her with a basic clubbing forearm. But Miss California whirls around and defeats his simple plan with a thunderous spin kick that knocks him off his feet. She then turns her fiery rage back toward Wallace, who's trying to beat a hasty retreat. Krista shuts down all his escape routes by grabbing onto his arm and Irish whipping him into the corner. But he shifts his bodyweight midmove and reverses the hold, “blessing” Krista with the back first crunch into the steel turnbuckles. [i]One Eye[/i] takes advantage of her moment of weakness by charging towards her, looking to flatten her with a body splash. But the only thing that gets flatten in this exchange is his pectoral muscles as Miss California dives out of the way, leaving him to violently smash into the posts. Krista's wonderful counter barely has a second to register in the fans' minds before they see her getting flap jacked into the sky by Vincent. But Krista uses her cat like agility to turn the tables on the brawler, by slicing her long tan legs across his neck with a leg lariat! The audience discharges a boisterous pop in response to her series of reversals.

Never one to pass up a moment to humiliate a member of the male gender Krista mocks the SCM by signing their entrance music to the cheering audience “If you ever cross that line I guarantee ya there'll be nothin' to save ya, I got a whole bunch of gorillas ready to pull the trigga, and we all for that paper!”

COLE
Krista all about that hyphy west coast flow!

Powered by a conviction to silence his musical challenger, One Eye makes one last charge towards the woman. However, Krista latches onto his arm, then bends backwards, bringing him into the air with a Japanese arm drag. He lands with a reverberant impact on his associate's stomach, causing both men to emit a series of pain soaked squeals Ever the vain one, Krista plays to the crowd and to her own beauty, by fluffing her luscious golden tresses above her victimized rivals. Once she's done showcasing her Loreal worthy hair, she runs to the ropes, cartwheels back, and hits a devastating elbow that lands with perfect brutality on One Eye's sternum. She then hooks his leg for a pinfall.

CROWD
ONE

CROWD
TWO

The champion forcefully kicks out of the pin attempt, then rolls away from his feisty enemy, seeking to put an extreme amount of distance between himself and the wrathful fitness queen. He manages to make it as far as the apron, before Krissy, who had trailed his route, reaches over the ropes and angrily hauls him upright by his cornrows. He tries to fend her off with a right cross, but she swiftly ducks bellow the wild strike. A second attempt proves no more productive then the first, except this time he gets a knee to the stomach for his wasteful efforts. Krista then interweaves him into a maddeningly tight front facelock, and uses the hold as a leash to draw him into the squared circle. Wallace tugs at her arms, trying his hardest pull the hold clear with his brute strength. Much to his chagrin he encounters zero success with this effort, and Krista readies him for the always deadly Implant DDT.

COLE 
This is starting to look kind of familiar...

And it should, because Vincent replays the exact same scene that caused this entire mess in the first place. He tugs on Krista's shoe, causing her to lose her grip on One Eye and topple backwards once again. Just like before, One Eye shifts his body and lands on top of Krista in a lateral press. Again, Robinson is too stupid to witness the blatant cheating occurring right in front of his eyes. The only [i]important[/i] difference between now and the previous predicament that cost the girls their championships, is that Vincent only holds onto [b]one[/b] of Krista's feet.

CROWD
[IMG=http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y39/Portfree/awwgeeze.jpg]

ONE

COLE
Not this way!

TWO

COLE
Damn it, no!

Vinny's failure to grab onto both feet proves fatal, and Krista pops out of the pin, putting the panic attacked audience and colour commentator at ease.

[B]YEAAAAAAAAA![/B]

COLE
Yes! Yes!

Wallace certainly does not share in the sold out arena's enthusiastic sentiment. The reigning champion  holds his arms out to his side, completely at a loss for words as to explain how the once fool proof plan could go so awry. But his thoughts are quickly shifted into other concerns as Krista grabs onto his wrist and puts him on a trip towards the cables. She lowers her head, praying that he'll leapfrog her upon his return. He bites on the bait, elevating himself over her body, and foolishly throwing himself into one of Krista's more convoluted signature moves. Rather then continue his run of the cables, he pivots off his right foot to thud an elbow into Krista's noggin. Unfortunately, Krista's plan continues to go off like clockwork, and she hits him with Phase Two: An inverted atomic drop. Wallace's hands nestle his ruptured testicles as he screams into the night sky. Unfortunately for him his hollering mouth is soon drowned in blood, when Krista unleashes phase three: a fabulously deathly superkick! The wounded convict drops like a sack of potatoes to the mat, throughly battered by [b]Krista's Great California Adventure[/b]. While the spectators ovate her complex signature spot, Krista covers her opponent for the pinfall

CROWD
ONE

CROWD
TWO

Vincent breaks up the fall with a kick to the side of her head!

“FUCK OFF,VINCENT! FUCK OFF, VINCENT!” chant the oh-so classy audience. 

Vincent shrugs off the audience's disdain, and instead focuses on making moves to end his challengers' quest to reclaim what's rightfully their's. He takes hold of Krista's arm and uses it to drag her up right and put her on a collision course with the turnbuckles. Her back eats the brunt of the anguishing impact, leaving her momentarily stunned.  Vincent makes a mad dash to his wounded target, wishing to impale her with a fierce shoulder block! But the only thing that's getting impaled around here is his arm by the steel ring post, as Miss California dodged his attack at the last possible moment! 

“KRISTA! KRISTA! KRISTA!” sing the now standing audience.

Leaving Vinny to grumble about his misfortune, Krissy ascends to the top turnbuckles, leading the audience to roar with frenzied anticipation. Unfortunately for them, [i]Marcellus Wallace[/i] let's the wind out of their sails as he catches Krista unaware, and shoves her off her perch. She falls like a ballast bag tossed from a balloon, flailing her arms about, trying to find someone to snag onto. While her arms catch nothing but empty air, her neck encounters a gruesome meeting with the ring cable, instantly draining her of her precious air supply. Krista flops onto the canvas, hacking and wheezing, but also dazed and unsure of what the hell just happened to her. In the midst of her confusion The South Central Militia take a moment to work out a double team tactic that their certain will prolong their all too short tag title reign. Vincent grabs their bewildered rival and drapes her across his shoulders so that she lies like a wild west damsel in distress. One Eye creeps up behind him, snatching hold of her neck, allowing him to smash her face into the canvas with his end of the unusual move. Suddenly a loud roar shakes the very foundation of the arena! Wallace is made aware of the source of the crowd's happiness as a recovered [b]Alix Spezia[/b], surprises him with a school boy! Unable to stage a proper escape from the shocking pinfall, Wallace's only hope is that his partner will mount a hasty rescue attempt. But he watches that dream go down in brilliant multi colored flames when Krista regains enough of her strength to trap Vincent in a victory roll. 

CROWD
ONE

COLE
Double roll up!

CROWD
TWO

CROWD
[color="#FF0000"][b]THREE![/b][/color]

COLE
Yes! Yes!

The spectators burst with a blustering cavalcade of delighted cheers for the ending they've been waiting nearly twenty minutes to see. Some audience members exchange high fives as if they were the ones who had to deal with these cheating, underhanded thugs from the wrong side of the tracks. A few young children in the first row taunt the heartbroken Militia with chants of “YOU'RE NOT THE CHAMPS! YOU'RE NOT THE CHAMPS!” Meanwhile, Vincent sits in the ring,  silently cursing his team for pissing away their first true chance at wrestling stardom. His associate is much more demonstrative in his disgust, overturning chairs, ring steps and monitors in a futile effort to cope with the tremendous anger building within him.

BUFFER
YOUR WINNER AND NEW OAOAST WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS.....[color="#FF00FF"][b]CHICKS OVER DICKS[/b]![/color]

[B]“YEAAAAAAA!”[/B]

The SoCal girls exchange their usual hug for their victory, and then proceed to mock the downtrodden SCM's ridiculous victory celebration, by doing Lil Jon's finger snapping dance. The fact that two white women from the suburbs can do the dance better then a black guy from South Central and a white guy who has spent half his life in prison is a source of a great shame for the embittered Militia. 

COLE
All is right in the world, Coach! Everything is back to normal. Well, as normal as it possibly gets in the OAOAST. In this company, cheaters, criminals, convicts, pimps, goons and drug dealers do not and never will prosper. You can't cheat, and steal your way to success here!

COACH
All is right in the world? You whitewashed bigot! Titles have changed hands on so called dubious circumstances many times before, but not once  has the man or woman in charge ever stepped out to grant an instant rematch. But when the company's spoiled little princesses lose, everyone is up in arms! Because Alix and Krista always have to be the focal point. No one else can ever have as much attention put on them as Alix and Krista. And poor Vincent and Marcellus. People always talk about how they need to change their ways, but how are they supposed to do that when every time they get a little something going, The Man has to come and take it away. You think tree hugging liberals like Krista and Alix would have sympathy for the plight of the proletariat, but I see that their no better then the men they protest against. Just 'cause a man done some shit in his time, don't mean he shouldn't get the chance to make something of himself and get him some shine. Just 'cause you're from the streets don't mean you ain't got hopes and dreams like the rest of America. The hopes and dreams of The South Central Militia were unfairly crushed tonight for purely poitical reasons. What do you say to that, Cole?

COLE
I say that you're a stankin' ass ho.

Edited February 2, 2007 by Patty O'Green