HS: Costume Battle Royal

[Patty O'Green 0]

hmm lets try seprating entrances from the match

BUFFER
Ladies and gentlemen the following contest is a twelve team battle royal for the One and Only World  Tag team Championships! Let's meet the competitors in the ring... first weighing in at a combined weight of five hundred nine pounds, they are The Mover From Vancouver, James Blonde, and The Samoan Wrecking Ball, Faqu!

James Blonde and Faqu are dressed as classic 1950's plastic soldiers, outfitted in authentic army gear, and covered from helmet to boot in green paint. 

BUFFER
And next, coming in at a combined weight of four hundred thirty six pounds, from The Windy City, they are, Doctor Max Anderson, Doctor Stephen Pigley, The Love Doctors!

Pigley has attired himself as one of fright night's trademark ghouls, the mummy. Its a fitting costume given the terrible arm injury he's suffered at the hands of his hated rivals, The Beverly Hills Blonds. Anderson's costume is a whimsical role reversal, as he now plays the role of patient, dressed up as the guy from the board game Operation. Its a beige bodysuit, consisting of the well known apple for an adam's apple, a plate of spare rips indicating the rips, a small horse representing a Charlie horse, and look there's like eighty teams to go, you wanna know what the costume looks like, go to Toys R Us and buy the damn game, w/yo broke ass.

COACH
That costume is only good if you like being poked all night, and from the looks of that metrosexual sissy, he certainly does, he certainly does. Also if your gimmick is that you're strippers why is one of you coming in a body cast and the other coming in a potato sack?

BUFFER
At a combined weight of four hundred eighty pounds, Quentin Benjamin, Charlie Moss, TEAM HEYROSSSS!

“BOOOOOO!”

With their muscular bodies cloaked behind a thick layer of gold paint, the former WDW tag team champions proudly jam their index fingers into football jerseys  that match their glossy skin color. A curious fit of chatter occupies the audience, as they try to determine the exact identity of the pair's costumes.  However, their confusion is quickly alleviated when Moss and Benjamin strike a legendary sports pose.

COACH
I get it! They're the hesiman trophy!  The greatest athletes in the OAOAST dressed as an award to recognize the greatest athlete in college athletics. But these guys ain't no Ron Dayne or Eric Crouch. Its nothing but mad success and much glory tonight for my picks to take home the One and Only World Tag Team Titles. 

BUFFER
And from Newport Harbor, California by way of Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, they are the returning CHRIST AIR EXPRESS!

[b]“YEAAAAAAA!”[/b]

In act that's sure to condemn us all to hell, and prevent us from ever visiting any red states (which are each their own little slice of hell all by themselves), The Nerdly twins are looking ab-blasphemous in their "Buddy Christ from Dogma" costume. Satin robes, and fine cloth flutter through the air, while the Express flash a thumbs up that's every bit the disengious equal  to the smarmy wink and a smile on their plastic Jesus masks.

BUFFER
And from the 90210, weighing in at a combined weight of four hundred sixty pounds, joined at ringside by Molly Nerdly, they are THE BEVERLY HILLS BLONDS.

[B][color="#FF0000"]BOOOOOOOO[/color][/B]

Arrogantly believing himself to have the finest outfit of the participants, Simon Singleton, performs a slow, graceful twirl to afford the fans a chance to admire his custom designed Academy Award costume. However, his glimmering gold painted figure isn't met with awed reverence from the fans, but rather with outright hostility from Team Heyross who assume he's stolen their costume! A frenzied verbal donnybrook boils into near fisticuffs, as three men who look liked they've been 69ing Goldust have the type of debate usually reserved for eighth grade ice cream socials. Ned, on the other encounters none of the accusations of theft his partner was cursed with, as no one in their right mind would ever wear the penis costume he has on. As half the crowd rushes to the bathroom to throw up after noticing how intricate and accurately the penis is depicted, Blanchard exudes a smug satisfaction. Those who remain seated are rewarded with a titillating image of Molly, dressed in an adorably sexy Little Bo Peep costume, a frilly ruffled pink mini dress that accentuates her slim legs and scarcely goes beyond her creamy thighs. The only bad about this is that she's brought along sheep. Lots of sheep. Live sheep.

BUFFER
And, from Cabo San Lucas, Mexico, LOS DIABLOSSSSS!

Los Diablos have arrived to the evenings festitives in the only costume befitting their of near legendary flamboyance: 
[img=http://www.orlandofloridaguide.com/jacksonville/concerts/Cher%201751a2.jpg]

BUFFER
And representing the OAOAST first responders unit please give it up for Detective Tango Bosley, and EMT Tim Cash, RESCUE 9-1-1!

Cash has come dressed as the DC comic book hero the Flash, while Bosley wears the much more cumbersome outfit of smoky the bear.

BUFFER
And, Florida please give a warm welcome to LOS CONQUESTIADORS....

Despite it being repeated oh about sixty billion times that this is a costume battle royal, the winless duo, seemed to have missed the memo, because unless you count gross incompetence as a costume, then they're absent any Halloween attire!

COACH
What the hell are Uno and Dos supposed to be?

COLE
Uno is Dos and Dos is Uno!

COACH
The company ran out of money for the costume budget, didn't they?

[size="3"][b][i][color="#FF0000"]Convict....Convict....Convict[/i]
[i]Up front
Yeah....[/color]
[color="#FF0000"][size="6"]Convict Music[/size][/color][/i][/b][/size]

A tight tension grips hold of the venue, as the frightful piano melody of [i]Cross That Line[/i] decorates the audio landscape. Boos froth from the rabid mouthes of the Florida crowd, while The Militia's most violent exploits replay across the videoscreen.

[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 papah (papah)
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]

A booming bass echoes into the night, signaling the arrival of the South Central Militia. The entrance doors tear apart, pouring a thick cloud of smoky haze into the foreboding cemetery scene. Carried in with the tremendous swell of smoke are the imposing figures of the former tag team champions, The South Central Militia. Slicing his way through the mist is the bestial One-Eye Wallace. Whereas most days he might emerge with a roar that could shake the underworld, on this night, Wallace steps with a grace and charm befitting of his three piece suit, and neatly pressed hair. Its an innocent, if not ambiguous costume, until the camera pans around to reveal that he has a Caucasian penis lodged into his BUTT cheeks!

COACH
I got this one. Nice suit, neat professional non-nappy hair, disingenuous smile, and taking it up the ass from the white man? He's Barack Obama!

Vincent's costume is every bit the equal to Wallace in terms of exuding a professional class, a matching three piece suit, and a similar neatly pressed hair piece. The only difference seen on Vincent's costume is the white picket fence stuck between his legs.

COACH
Constantly straddling a fence? That one is easy, he's Rudy Giuliani!

COLE
I never knew The Militia were such keen political commentators.

Flashing an unusually charming smile, the duo adjusts their ties and offer friendly nods to a not so friendly fanbase. They then stride down the entry rap, absent of their typical trash talk, which has now been replaced with empty handshakes and vacant smiles towards a distrustful fanbase.

BUFFER
From the mean streets of South Central Los Angeles, they are Vincent "WHITEY" Santana, Marcellus "ONE EYE" Wallace, the SOUTH CENTRAL MILITIAAAAA!! 

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
The Militia haven't quite been able to capture the success they saw earlier in the year when the OAOAST tag titles, but we'll see what they can do tonight against quite a number of tough foes.

[i]Easy lover
She'll get a hold on you believe it
Like no other
Before you know it you'll be on your knees [/i]

The disgust shown for Militia only carries over and magnifies when the dripping sounds of yesterday's soft rock hits spill into the arena. Signs calling for the deportation of Rico instantly go up into the air, joined by rousing chorus of “WRECKING CREW SUCKS” chants. While bad vibes may pollute the stands, nothing can corrupt the delicate mood of the entryway, where soft purple and pink lights give an otherwise grizzly scene a slight romantic touch. But there's no love shown to Rico De Janiero, who strolls out in a king's robe, and a jewel encrusted crown. Holding a ruby adorned scepter he waves to his disloyal subjects, bidding the more attractive among them to remove their clothing. Behind him is Lucius Soul dressed as the one thing someone with a gigantic afro can possibly go as, Jimi Hendrix! 

COACH
Kingly attire for the King of Mardi Gras! And ya gotta ask yourself can The Wrecking Crew be crowned kings of the tag division tonight. They came close in the Scramble Cage match, then again at Zero Hour. Is tonight their night? 

BUFFFER
Introducing first from New Orleans, Louisiana, standing six feet two inches and weighing in at one hundred eighty eight pounds, he is SWEET LUCIUS SOOOOULL! And his partner standing at five feet eleven inches, weighing two hundred twenty five pounds, from Rio De Janeiro, he is The King of Mardi Gras, RICO DE JANEIRO! Together they the MARDI GRAS HOME WRECKING CREWWWWWW! 

The announcement of their name is not warmly welcomed by the crowd, who continue to pour out a river of jeers. But their disgust is ignored by a smiling Rico  who happily waves as he parades down the ramp. Soul stays focused on the task at hand, making the belt motion around his waist, in between pointing his boney fingers to the teams all ready in the ring.

COLE
The last ever HI-YAH tag team champions, looked pretty impressive in their wars against The Gunslingers and The Rockers, but its a whole different ball game when you're facing down eleven other teams.

[size="6"][i][b][color="#FF0000"]HEY WAIT I GOT A NEW COMPLAINT[/color][/b][/i][/size]

The jeers offered to The Militia and The Wrecking Crew, seem like an emission of heartfelt warmth and compassion when placed in comparassion with the burning hostility received by the incoming Rockers. Made a touch nervous by the sharp rise in the crowd's anger, the security guards tense up, nervously anticipating that a more bold fan may make a play against the hated grouping. Their fears definitely aren't set at ease, when Abdullah is seen dancing through the cemetery, dressed as Osama Bin Laden! As the fans cock their arms to hurl debris at him, he joyfully spits on the various graves through a toothsome smile.

COLE
How can you support a team that associates with a man who dresses up as Osama Bin Laden?

COACH
You act like he's dressing up like some kind of criminal.

Far less inciteful and much more pleasurable then Abby's outfit, is Holly-Wood's costume. Her thin made for the runway body stretches through the dress made famous by Pebbles from The Flintstones, and a cute bone ties up her saucy naturally redhair. As fetching as her costume is, the real show stealers are The Rockers, who have dressed their upper bodies as milk cartons. A confusing costume certainly, until you look at the back and see the image of The Global Party Exchange pasted above huge bold letters that read [b]MISSING: HAVE YOU SEEN US?[/B]. 

[size="4"][b]***SHOTS FIRED****[/b][/size]

(Patty sez: credit to KC for the joke!)

COLE
That's not right!

The fans are inclined to agree, tossing even more hateful taunts The Rockers' way. Synth and Abdullah, may spend their time jawing back at their many enemies in the crowd, but Logan and Holly preoccupy themselves with a made for the Spice Channel makeout session atop the entry way.

BUFFER
Now playing in Daytona Beach, Flordia COLONEL ABULLAH NERDLY presents the “GREATEST rock 'n' wrestling band of AAAAALLLL-time“...THE HEAVENLYYYYYYY RRRRRROOOOOOOOOCCKKEEEEEEERRRRRRRSSSSSSS! 

The camera pans towards The Christ Air Express, who are all smiles at The Rockers arrival. But that could just be because their wearing a smiling Christ mask. I'm sure underneath, they're very upset. Abdullah Abir does his best to avoid their gazes, keeping himself behind the chiseled physique of Logan Mann. Logan pays little attention to Abdullah, and instead joins Synth in rather loudly and obnoxiously informing each tag team of what order they plan to eliminate them.

COLE
A little conceited if you ask me! You haven't even started the match, fellas. In fact the last time we had a battle royal, there were sixteen teams and you got tossed out third!

COACH
That was a pussified, waterdown version of The Rockers. And they got eliminated because of Gunslinger stupidity. These are the real Rockers. And the real Rockers are going down to the wire with Team Heyross or The Mardi Gras Wrecking Crew. Count on that.

With only one team left to go the chants begin in earnest

[size=4][b][color="#FFA500"]C-O-D! C-O-D! C-O-D![/color][/b][/size]

[i][font="Arial Black"][color="#FF00FF"]Hey, hey, you, you 
I don't like your girlfriend!
No way, no way!
I think you need a new one 
Hey, hey, you, you
I could be your girlfriend!

Hey, hey, you, you!
I know that you like me!
No way, no way!
No, it's not a secret
Hey, hey, you, you!!
I want to be your girlfriend![/color][/font][/i] 

The enthusiastic cheerleading bounce of Avril's smash hit, ushers in even more enthusiastic chants from the sold out crowd, as a waterfall of [color="#FF00FF"][b]pink[/b][/color]  pyro dives in front of the jumbo video screen. Its sparks are splashed along the stage, when its tagged by a fresh geyser of  [b][color="#FF0000"]red[/color][/b]  pyro . That serene pairing is then overpowered by the dominant thunder that comes from the  [b][color="#FFFF00"]golden[/color][/b] pyro wall that takes over the entry way. 

COLE
And here comes the champions!

Delighting an audience that snaps constant pictures of her beautiful image is The Blond Tornado (aka Krista Isadora Duncan). Her buxom upper body fits into a sleek black and yellow deep plunging long sleeve top, with a yellow tornado emblem on the chest. Slender legs stretch beautifully from a black leather skirt into heavily buckled stiletto heels. Though her usual fashionably sexy look is present and accounted for, her expression of unshakable confidence is noticeably absent, substituted for by a worried look of confused annoyance. The audience is confused over her confusion, until they realize that something truly is afoul. There's no Alix! Over her shoulder, the superheroine continues to peer back the entry way, waiting for Alix to come and leap into her arms as she's done for so many matches this year. But the only thing Krista gets is smoke from the smoke machines and a steady bout of anxiety. Left with no choice, a dismayed Krista sulks down the entry ramp. Though the fans are incredibly disappointed to not see Alix, they don't let that temper them from their show of support for the present member of COD.

BUFFER
Now making her way to the ring from Los Angeles, California, she is a proud single mother, a best selling author, a founder of the world renowned fitness videos FIT WITH KID, she is the beauitufl, the intelligent, the talented, Miss California, KRISTA ISADORA DUNCAN!  

COACH
Where the hell is Alix? What's going on? Tyler Bryant is here. Mister Borucia is here. Niggas who aint had matches since the summer is lurking backstage and the tag champ ain't even showin up?

COLE
I haven't heard any word from her that she wouldn't be here. Obviously something is wrong, but the question is what. And is Krista even going to be allowed to wrestle without a partner?

As Krista is greeted by the ringside officials, that seems to be the pressing question. She insists she doesn't know where Alix is, and worry lines sprout onto her face as she continues gazing back to an empty entry ramp.  The referees haven't a clue what to do, not knowing if they should permit Krista to wrestle or not.  Krista doesn't seem to care what they do, only wanting to hear word on Alix. Eventually the referees decide on making the match a non title costume battle royal, which being overheard by Adullah and Molly, does not go over very well. The two Nerdly children are ENRAGED and violently verbalize their protests. 

ABULLAH
لاسبوع الماضي الفرجة الازرقع و عاجز ، واعرب اكثOAOAST :phaser: ر من لفة على ظهره ، صاحب السلس السلوك غير مرئي ، ما يقرب من جلبت الى نقطة من الدموع. البنات لا يبدو ان المعنيين مع صاحبKrista :stupid:  محنة ، وبدلا من ا. Alix يتأرجح krista حولها ، مبتسما كما :asshole2:  krista زخات :firing: 

MOLLY
Uh-huh, yeah, what he said.

Having exposed themselves as not knowing what the hell they're doing, the OAOAST officials allow the Nerdly kids to the call the shots, and change the match back to a title affair. They give Krista the option of competing, which she readily accepts, eager to get her mind off Alix's whereabouts.

COLE
Kirsta's gonna do this one by herself. And I can't imagine the difficulty involved in that. She'll need to clear her mind, and concentrate one hundred percent on the match.

Edited November 1, 2007 by Patty O'Green

[Patty O'Green 0]

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

No sooner then a second after the bell sounds, do Los Conquistadors seek to gain an easy elimination, with a furious charge towards the Heavenly Rockers. While the other competitors wage an indistinguishable slugfest with one another, the boys in gold subdue The Rockers with a calvary of forearm smashes. But this advantage doesn't last for very long, as Synth succeeds in overpowering Uno with a simple thumb to the eye. Free of Uno, Esizer is able to assist his partner in trapping Dos into a front facelock. Despite the luchadore's struggles to remain grounded, they manage to elevate him into the skies as they edge closer and closer to the ropes. Sensing that his comrade's soon to face elimination, Uno flares forward to strike The Rockers with a lariat! A jumbled mishmash of pvc, faux-leather, bad hand writing and white cardboard topples over the ropes to the immense delight of the crowd. But its only the PVC and faux leather that feel the sting of the ring mats, as The Heavenly Rockers are able to hook onto the ropes and remain on the apron, earning a round of boos in the process.    
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[b][color="#FFFF00"]Los Conquistadors[/color][/b]
LEFT: 1st
LEFT IN RING: 11
ELIMINATED: None
ELIMINATED BY: The Heavenly Rockers
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

COACH
Couple of first rate losers, shoulda kept ya Mexican jumping bean ass in that INS detention center. These the type of fools who'd get dunked on in a wheelchair basketball league.

Having to deal with potentially being eliminated by the two worst wrestlers on the roster is bad enough! But imagine having to deal with potentially being eliminated by our lord and savior, Jesus Christ. That's exactly the fate facing down the apron based Rockers, as they're thrown under a barrage of punches from MARV and MEL! Their archrivals terrorize them with an endless parade of jabs and hooks, leaving small welts on The Rocker's face, and each throwing the crowd into a frenzy over their potential elimination. But Colonel Abdullah Abir takes evasive maneuvers to ward off his brothers' quest for vengeance; he leaps onto the ring apron and swats the Jesus imposters in their thick beards with two unholy strikes of his Koran! The overmatched Express tumbles away from their prey, felled by the awesome might of Islam!

ABULLAH
[img=http://fc04.deviantart.com/fs9/i/2006/054/c/9/Stamp__muslim___n_Proud_by_Muslim_Women.gif]

MOLLY
The OAOAST! Come for the goofy gimmicks, and stay for the offensive religious commentary!

Elsewhere, in less religiously intolerant sectors of the ring, Charlie Moss and Marcellus Wallace have made it their mission in life to rid the match of the bulky Samoan, Faqu. Combining their impressive strength, they manage to at least lift part of his blubbery physique over the top rope. However, their success all but ends there, as James Blonde comes crashing into their alliance like a bat out of hell with an axe handle smash! While Moss, manages to avoid the strike, Wallace is dropped faster then Obama's chances of ever getting elected. In celebration of executing one of the most basic maneuverer in all of pro-wrestling, Blonde arrogantly begins brushing his shoulders. But this allows the gold painted Moss to surprise his green painted rival, by grabbing onto his army fatigues, and attempting to dump him over the ropes! Desperate not to be eliminated before the guy dressed as the giant penis, Blonde furiously begins bashing his helmet into Moss' body!     

COACH
If someone was really smart they would've come dressed as Edward Scissorhands.

Nothing is able to halt Moss from his task until Faqu drives the point of his elbow directly into the the back of his jersey. Saved from elimination, Blonde tries to enact a measure of revenge on his foe by joining his partner in underhooking Moss' arms. Together they flip the amateur superstar forward, seeking to hip toss him over the ropes. But, Moss counteracts their efforts, by planting his boots firmly onto the paint stained cables, then shooting his body backwards to pummel the luckless pair with a double inverted DDT!

COACH
Strike the pose, baby!

Moss would be able to strike the Heisman pose if he weren't being mowed down by a lariat from a six foot two spandex penis. Our phallic pugilist, Ned Blanchard begins pumping stomps into Moss' back, decimating the former WDW tag team champion with a anamalistic joy.

COLE
Did you see how fast that dick came? And now he's exploding all over Moss!

Without warning Ned is ripped away from his victim by the mummified remains of Stephen Pigley. Hungering for retribution over the injuries suffered earlier in the night, Pigley cocks (lolpun!) his hand back and blasts Ned into a vacant corner!

COLE
What force behind that punch! Stephen Pigley's arm was injured severely in the match with The Blonds earlier tonight, and we wants a little payback!

A desperate bid for escape is exerted by Blanchard, but the bandage coated fist of his horrifying attacker locks him into place, and all he can do is coverup and pray to god for assistance. His calls for help are speedily answered by the king of the box office, Simon Singleton, who slams his two hundred thirty pounds into Pigley with a bodysplash. Exhausted by the combination of his previous injuries and that dangerous strike, Pigley slowly staggers out of the corner like a...well..a mummy! Unable to see past his blurred vision and uncomfortable bandages, he can do nothing to stop Quentin Benjamin from flattening him with a spinning heel kick.

COACH
Its gonna take a lot more then a few ace bandages to get yourself right after that one, Pigley! 

The fact that Benjamin has blatantly “stolen” his costume isn't lost on Simon, and the BOSS immediately dives upon the thief for his fashion transgression. Joined by Blanchard, the South Carolina transplant manages to hammer the Washingtonian into submission.  With Benjamin incapable of offering any resistance, the three time tag team champions drag him onto the their shoulders for a modified DVD that would propel him from the ring. However, that devastating hold never comes to pass as Benjamin regains his wits, and peels off their shoulders to drive them into the canvas with a double DDT! Unfortunately for QB, not a second later does he become the victim of a running front flip neckbreaker courtesy of Doctor Anderson!

COLE
Don't think Anderson forgot that superkick Benjamin hit Pigley with!  

Its evident that Anderson will neither forgive no forget Benjamin for heel kicking his partner, as he removes his plastic tongs from his costume and proceeds pummel his fallen rival! But he's not granted much of a chance to turn QB into his next ER patient, thanks to the recovered BHB's overwhelming him with a flurry of forearm strikes. The Blonds then foist him onto their shoulders. Stepping over the beaten frame of Benjamin, Ned and Simon venture to the edge of the ring, and casually fling their victim over the top cable. But their nonchalance becomes costly, as they inadvertently dump Anderson onto the apron. The MD is quick to profit on this second life; he leaps to his feet and swats away BOSS with an elbow strike. The BHB's continue to fall like bowling pins, as Anderson levels the remaining member with a ferocious swipe of his oversized tweezers!

COLE
Anderson is a one doctor wrecking machine!

Anderson attempts to step into the ring, hungering to continue this thrashing of his archrivals. However, his entry is halted by cinematographer extraordinarie Miss Molly Nerdly, who clamps a death grip onto his ankle. Quickly frustrated, Anderson offers furious efforts to free himself from her grip. But the Nerdly girl is steadfast in refusal, unwilling to remove Anderson from her clutches. Tired of Molly's annoyances, the MD utilizes his superior strength to violently shove the much smaller woman away! Now free of Molly's grip, Anderson's narrowed eyes stare into their face as though they were intent on burning a hole through her skull. Molly tries to move, but can't, the terror of Anderson's intimidation holding her immobile.

“Oh you mustn't attack me! I still have student loans to repay!”

Never one to let the call of a potential dyke out project go un-heeded, Krista moves to rescue Molly from her aggressor, while eliminating him from the contest at the same moment. However, thanks to sharp glance towards a video screen, Anderson witnesses Krista's arrival, and immediately works to befall America's favorite lesbian superhero. With an athletic leap, he elevates himself onto the cables,  foreshadowing a springboard assault. However, Krista is every bit his superior in speed and agility,  and shoots upwards to slam her shoes into his face. The force of her strike drives Anderson's plummeting figure from the ring, shattering it into pieces on the ring mats. There's a deafening snap, and Anderson lets out such a cry of anguish that for an instant the audience feels sorry for him. Then they forget all about him and turn their cheers towards Krista.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[color="#800080"][b]The Love Doctors[/b][/color]
LEFT: 2nd
LEFT IN RING: 10
ELIMINATED: None
ELIMINATED BY: Krista Isadora Duncan
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

[b][color="#FF8C00"]“KRISTA! KRISTA! KRISTA!”[/color][/b]

“And now the OAOAST returns from the parallel universe where The Love Doctors were a semi-competent tag team to our normal reality where they continue to suck a fountain of cock.” Krista comments.

Ned is overcome with joy to see his perpetual rivals expelled from the match, and has to express this delight through the medium of modern dance.

NED
[img=http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs7/i/2005/208/4/b/Dancin____Dancin___by_RejectifiedTomato.gif]

“Do you see that? That's the father of my child! And you wonder why I'm a lesbian?” Krista yells to no one in particular. 

Mere inches away from Krista the war between Rescue 911 and the Wrecking Crew flames vehemently, as Rico De Janiero attempts to lift Bosley's bulky Smokey the Bear costume over the ropes.  But Bosley clings onto the cables, as if the very existence of the endangered Montana Brown Bear depended on it. While, he fights a seemingly hopeless battle to survive, his spandex clad partner offers a ray of hope, rushing forward to shoulder block the Brazilian. But Rico anticipates Cash's arrival and slides out the way, leaving the comic book legend to smash into his dangling comrade! Bosley tumbles over the ropes, but on sheer luck alone, lands safely on the ring apron.

COLE
Detective Bosley almost eliminated from this contest!

While Rico would love to simply shove Bosley to the floor with a callous swat of his bejeweled boot, there's the nagging matter of an unacceptable bug infestation consuming his kingly robes! A bug infestation? Well, certainly that's the only logical explanation for why the King of Mardi Gras feels like his ass is being chewed out by Pacman's extended family. The only logical explanation that is until Rico looks over his shoulders and sees the glitter stained legs of Mariachi's Cher costume protruding from beneath his robe.

“Comece-me ir-se foder cara da merda!” Rico's normally smooth, now high-pitched and alarmed, voice chirps. 

COACH
I don't speak of word of Portuguese but I'm pretty sure he wasn't saying “use lube next time”.

Whatever De Janiero said, he screams it repeatedly, as he loses all sense of royal composure and darts about the ring in a mad effort to keep what's left of his salad from being tossed. The audience is delighted by Rico predicament, rooting on the flamboyant luchadore as he commits the kind of sexual harassment that could make Isiah Thomas blush. The fans' cheers grow even louder when Rico's crazed escape route is shut down by a double BUTT bump from EMT Cash and Moracca!  

“DEPORT RICO! DEPORT RICO! DEPORT RICO!” the fans sing.

CASH and MORACCA
[IMG=http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y39/Portfree/gheyfight.gif]

MOLLY
[IMG=http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y39/Portfree/gaydar.jpg]

Biting Moracca's queer bait costs Cash dearly, for Lucius Soul punishes him for his distraction with a front Russian leg sweep. Moracca isn't spared from Soul's path of terror, as he's bowled over by aspinning side kick. Soul doesn't bother with admiring his quick destruction Cash and Moracca, and instead throws himself into the task of eliminating Mariachi. His bony fingers weave through the Mexican's ten dollar wig, using the cheap fabric as a leash to guide him towards the ropes. Once he reaches his destination he disposes of Mariachi as though he were common garbage, easily slinging him over the cables! But cheers ring out through the night, as the audience watches Mariachi preserve his chances for survival by hooking his hands onto the second rope. The avoidance of the elimination causes steam to pour out every pore in an enraged Soul's body. But there's no opportunity for him to exorcise his anger, due to a lethal diving shoulder tackle from Detective Bosley! As the smooth soul bro crumples to the mat, Bosley celebrates his moment of victory with a fistpump!  

COACH
The Love Doctors already gone out, why can't Rescue 911 and Los Diablos do the same? I know I can't always get what I want, but damn, can a nigga at least get what he needs?  

Elsewhere, MARV gets precisely what he doesn't need, namely impaled onto the top rope by a reverse suplex from Simon Singleton. While his opponent can do nothing more then hack and wheeze, BOSS comes in with a measured knee that implants perfectly into MARV'S nose, thrusting him out the ropes grip as well as out of this contest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[b]The Christ Air Express[/b]
LEFT: 3rd
LEFT IN RING: 9
ELIMINATED: None
ELIMINATED BY: The Beverly Hills Blonds
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

But wait! There's the small matter of the crushed turban that extends from MARV's backside, and the spindly legs that twitch awakwardly beneath his two hundred pounds.

ABULLAH
تحصل لي من يستغل الاحمق برعشيت الدماغ انا اكره لك انت تقتل يستغل سوء الامتصاص لك انك انت يخون 

MARV
Molly, translate.

MOLLY
“The very foolish male is the fact that it is the suction cup of the chicken! I am not the bitch which kills! Before I put out the fire, the hell of sexual intercourse is obtained from me!” Oh pity! I must stop using this google translator!

COLE
I think MARV just landed on his own brother!

The muffled profanities of the broken manager, indicated that this is so, and the crowd rejoices with glee as the referees note that MARV's feet never touched the floor, only the crushed carcass of his brother. Thus he's allowed to continue in the bout.

“Thanks, Colonel! You da man, b!” MARV half-heartedly compliments his sibling, as he uses his busted back as a step ladder to get back to the apron.

MARV'S sudden return to the contest doesn't sit well with Singleton, and he angrily, rains blows at random, seeking to simply cut MARV down with his crazed punches. But, the Canadian halts Simon's attack, by calmly slicing his shoulder into his pudgy midsection. Singleton is left doubled over in agony, a helpless dupe to the double stomp his agile foe directs towards his noggin. MARV's sandals land with stunning force, yanking Singleton away from the ropes, and depositing him onto the canvas where his tortured screams spill through the night.

COLE
You have to give due respect to the Christ Air Express, they've come on strong tonight, avoiding near elimination and nearly eliminating The Rockers.

Where Simon so horribly failed, Logan intends on meeting with great success, as he comes screeching down the ropes, with a lariat. But MARV swoops beneath the attack, the strands of his wig flowing gracefully behind him. Displeased by the miss, Logan retries his efforts, but again encounters failure when his adversary horsewhips a high kick into his face. Clutching his nose, Logan is forced to back away from the ropes, which gives MARV easy entry into the contest. The former skater boy comes on impossibly powerful, like a destroyer droid with a sword, each step a punch, every punch a step. Logan backs away as fast he dares but MARV's fists stay right on top of him. Mann's breath goes short and hard, then all but evaporates when MEL joins the pounding.

[font="Arial Black"][color="#FF0000"]“JESUS HATES YOU! JESUS HATES YOU!”[/color][/font]the fans sing to Logan.

The rock n' wrestling star turned low fat, organically sound, diary product does the only right minded thing to do in such a situation, drop to his knees and beg for mercy from the lord. Or at least the guys who are dressed like him. Forgiveness is the ultimate gift of Christ, and thus the Nerdly's welcome the repented sinner into heaven's gates with a holy embrace. 

Then they proceed to wallop him with punches sent straight from the devil himself.

[color="#8B0000"][font="Arial Black"]“SKATE OR DIE! SKATE OR DIE! SKATE OR DIE!”[/font][/color]

Bored with breaking his knuckles on Logan's face, MEL tosses the rocker into the ropes. Holly tries to latch onto his ankle to prevent a return to his tormentors. But, her movement is just a shade too slow, and a terrified Logan is launched back into a sidewalk slam set-up from MARV. Without a word needing to be spoken between them, MEL leaps into the air with a leg drop, and poor Logan is crushed against the unforgiving canvas by their innovative double team! Mann hollers out in pain, but its scarcely heard over the applause of the audience.  Unfortunately, the cheers quickly degenerate into heated boos the minute the fans watch Synth Esizer cut both Nerdlys down with a pair of upper cuts! But Esizer himself then falls prey to a sneak attack; Charlie Moss slams an elbow into the back of his head.  His shinning gold arm crashes overhead chops against Synth's thick chest with the unstoppable power of an atomic bomb. Esizer spends lavishly on his energy to try and fight back, but its to no avail, and he's bulldozed into the ropes. Now he clings onto cables, aware that they're the only thing protecting him from an unwelcome exit from this contest. But, Moss comes tirelessly and ferocious, and it seems to be only a matter of time before Synth bids a not so fond farewell to the ring.  

“Help!” He hollers towards Holly.

Instantly Holly springs onto the apron, the bone in her hair now wielded like the deadliest of daggers. The makeshift weapon hammers out, striking Moss between the eyes and ending his attempt to eliminate Synth.

COLE
Teamwork seems to be of the utmost importance in this tag team battle royal. But, Krista Isadora Duncan for the duration of this match has gone without her tag team partner and girlfriend for unknown reasons. You have to wonder how much that weighs on Krista's mind.

The stunning blond champion faces a more immediate predicament with the not-so stunning blond challenger, James Blonde, who easily hip tosses the California sex kitten over the ropes and onto the apron. Oddly delighted by his simplistic move, the arrogant ex HI-YAH grappler begins brushing his green coated skin off. This causes an annoyed Krista to remark,  

“Wow! Clearly a man in your pristine physical condition is so incredibly attuned to every nuance of his body that  I am just left in awe by your exhibition of  the delicate intricacies involved in the timeless ballet that is the denouement of the hiptoss.  This is your calling, sweet sir.  Travel the country and give the people what the want, what they need. Yours is a gift destined to be shared. The sight of your hiptoss would cure AIDS babies on the spot and give hope to a generation that is losing faith in a world gone mad.”

Having only dealt with the queen of sarcasm once before, JB inadvertently assumes her compliments were of the serious variety, and thanks her for the kindness. However, his gratitude quickly dissipates when she begins rifling punches into his goateed face!

COLE
Look at those left hands!

Those left hands do enough damage to Blonde to allow Krista to launch herself into the ring, and tighten her gorgeous legs around his neck in a head scissors.  

COACH
Look at those legs! Those beautiful, long, sexy legs...

She curses him with a nauseating twirl before tilting her body sideways to violently flip him onto the canvas. Despite the fact that he's well on the verge of vomiting, Blonde quickly scurries to an unsteady vertical base. Krissy tries to capitalize on his wounded state by charging him with a high knee lift. However, JB recovers his health quickly enough to upend her with a back body drop. The audience holds its collective breath, as it appears their heroine is about to meet an untimely end. But her four hundred dollar heels land perfectly on the ring apron, a feat that earns her a thunderous ovation, and the opportunity to take tear stained bows towards audience and thank them for their appreciation.

COACH
Oh god lord, people have been landing on the apron all night, and she acts like she won an Emmy! 

Before Krista finishes her curtain call, The Mover From Vancouver is already in motion, threatening to blast her off the ropes with a shuffle kick. But Krista doesn't have two masters degrees for nothing and puts her intelligence to good use, by lowering the top rope.  Though Blonde's widened blue eyes spot her treachery, his army boots can do nothing to prevent it, and he's slung over the ropes, left to slip into unconsciousness as his head brutally pangs off the mats.  There's no sympathy for Blonde from the fans, who are much to focused on rooting on their favorite lady for her second straight elimination.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[b][color="#808080"]James Blonde and Faqu[/color][/b]
LEFT: 3rd
LEFT IN RING:9
ELIMINATED: None
ELIMINATED BY: Krista Isadora Duncan
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

[b][color="#FF8C00"]“KRISTA! KRISTA! KRISTA!”[/color][/b]

COLE
Krista Isadora Duncan has to work by herself tonight, but that sure isn't stopping her!

Mariachi views Krista's position as the perfect opportunity to bring her time in this match to a close. Charging forward, he spins into a blindingly fast discus punch. However, Miss California defeats his approach by smashing her heel into his chin, sending the gender impersonator stumbling backwards. Left dazed and wounded by the attack, he haplessly falls into the eager clutches of Logan Mann. With a twisted smile corrupting his face, Mann heaves the Mexican sensation towards the ring ropes. Minor Problem: Logan, like almost everyone in the match, throws like a three year old paraplegic crack baby, and thus Mariachi is slung onto the ropes, caught between survival and a fast approaching elimination. Krista enlists herself into the task of eliminating Mariachi, and stands upon the bottom rope, leaping up and down in an effort to shake him from his nest.  If Krista's technique any effect on Mariachi then its unnoticed by the viewers, who's eyes remain entranced as her massive breasts bounce and jiggle with each thrust. Its the type of once in a lifetime mythical boobie jigglation that bestows  motivation to those of us who watch exercise shows on ESPNClassic with our pants off, to rush to the computer and nominate this as match of the decade.

NED
[img=http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs7/i/2005/156/f/6/squirt_by_spacehamster.gif]

“Ah, man, gross, this costume is a rental!” Rico complains.

Realizing that Krista isn't doing anything more then giving Mariachi a vile case of motion sickness, Logan steps into action. He latches onto the luchadore's glittering boots, and gives him a mighty heave!     Mariachi tumbles forward, an avalanche of glitter, sequins, fake hair, and spandex that explodes onto the canvas with a sickening thud. Sickening to the audience that is, but not to Logan Mann, who backs away from the scene of the crime with a bevy of callous laughter. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[color="#FF0000"][b]Los Diablos[/b][/color]
LEFT: 4th
LEFT IN RING: 8
ELIMINATED: None
ELIMINATED BY: The Heavenly Rockers & Krista Isadora Duncan
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“I am a golden god!” Logan Mann informs the audience, holding his arms out to the side to bask in the heavens glow.

[b]“ROCKERS SUCK! ROCKERS SUCK! ROCKERS SUCK!”[/b]

COACH
You ain't gotta love The Rockers, but at some point you gotta submit to reality, and realize these dudes is up there as one of the top tag teams of our time. 

COLE
No one's ever debated their talents, only their attitudes, and choices of managers. Speaking of, has Abdullah even gotten off the ground yet?

But just as one elimination ends another seems to be beginning, as Singleton pounds away on MEL, doing enough damage to be able  to begin pushing him over the cables. But MEL smartly evades dismissal from the match, by flopping onto the apron, and rolling beneath the bottom rope. His intent is to stay there and regain his fleeting breath, but Singleton makes this all but impossible by slingshotting himself over the ropes with a vile double stomp! Not wishing to have his Jesus Mask be crushed beneath Simon's feet,  MEL quickly rolls back into the ring, which causes Simon to land himself directly into a jeopardous position on the ring apron. Jeopardous because EMT Cash now looks to knock him from his perch with a shoulder block. Fortunately, Singleton moves a shade quicker then his incoming aggressor, and beats him back with a forearm strike. He hastily returns himself into the ring, and accosts Cash with an inverted facelock. Locking a snarl behind gritted teeth, Simon hooks his foe's spandex tights and jerks the superhero wannabe into the air. He then lets his victim fall forward and across his body, kneeling down so that Cash crashes into an outstretched knee. 

COACH
Let's talk about Bosley for a second. Why that man gonna wear a cartoon bear costume? Bitch be in his forties and walks out to that crap with no shame? 

Unfortunately, Singleton is quick to join Cash on the list of wrestler's in dire need of a masseuse, as MEL impales him with a twisting neckbreaker.

“Did ya get that one on camera, Molly.” MEL asks his elder sister, voice dripping with condescension.

“Oh of course I did! The world is the Siclopse's blank canvas, and all the colors of the known universe, are at my disposable for a wealth of beautiful brushstrokes!”

“What's that on the camera lens?”

“Its the lens cap, you stupidly stupid moron! I always keep it there during filming, so I won't lose it.”

“Wow, you're smart, Molly!”

“Oh of course I am! I do go to graduate school, after all.”

Directly behind this conversation, Quentin Benjamin whips Vincent Santana into the ring ropes. As he returns, Santana springs upwards, ready to flatten QB with a Lou Thez press! But, Benjamin counters this attack by coiling his arms around Santana's scrawny waist. Before “Whitey”  is even aware of what's happening he's being launched backwards by a belly to belly suplex! He hits the mat with such impact, that his carefully applied hairpiece comes loose, and his dirty blond hair spills aimlessly about the canvas. Despite the hair piece malfunction, Santana brushes aside his pain, and bullrushes QB. However, Benjamin meets his arrival with a swift knee to his boney midsection. Doubled over in misery, Vinny can do little more then watch in horror as the amateur wrestling star backs into the ropes in order to bounce back with a cross body block. But by the time QB is in the air, Santana regains enough strength to catch him in his arms. Vinny drives his body backwards, which flings QB forward in a one way trip to the outside mats!

COLE
Is the end for Quentin Benjamin?

It certainly might have been had his two hundred thirty five pounds not slammed into MARV and a brawling Rico De Janiero like a runaway truck. MARV simply slumps to the ground, but De Janiero is subjected to an awkward topple over the ring ropes, that lands him robe first onto the apron, and tumbles his gaudy crown off his mulleted head. He scrambles to his feet, preparing to defend against possible elimination. Those defenses are immediately put to the test by Charlie Moss, who joins him on the ring apron accompanied by a wave of punches.  Moss works as a mindless machine of slaughter, hammering the royal figure with punch after punch. Finally, De Janiero gets some semblance of offense in, by simply kicking Charlie in the frank n beans!

COLE
Ow! Illegal defense! First down Charlie Moss!

COACH
Illegal defense is a basketball penalty.  Hell outta here with ya dumb equestrian dressage Brian Boitano figure skating hoomed out crotchless tutu sniffing cracker ass.

The cheapshot rips the breath from Moss' lungs and buckles his knees, leaving him a sitting duck for De Janiero's big boot. But, Charlie calls upon his last ounce of energy and glides beneath the hold, causing his attacker to go screeching forward.....right into a missile dropkick from Quentin Benjamin! The sheer force of the strike rocks Rico backwards, and he crumples to the mat as though he'd been pumped full of bullets. A graceless slide to the canvas seems inevitable, and is loudly rooted for by the crowd. But, their desires go unfulfilled, thanks to Lucius Soul, diving onto his partner's foot and keeping his tumbling body away from the ringmats.   

“Pull me back in! Pull me back in!” Rico screams, as his face comes dangerously close to scraping the black surface before.

Straining himself with all his strength, Soul tries his hardest to return Rico to the ring.  Frenziedly, he tugs and pulls on his partner, while the Brazilian dangles through the air like an oversized pendulum. Soul's task is made all the more difficult by the fact that Moss that continually rams stomps into the hand that holds Rico above the abyss. The audience openly begs for Rico to taste the fabric of the mats, chanting “FALL! FALL!” at the top of their lungs.

COLE
How long can Lucius Soul maintain his hold on Rico? And Rico isn't exactly doing anything to help his cause. He looks like a cross between Tarzan and Jerry Lawler, high off that PCP!

Above and beyond Soul's field of vision is the twisting and twirling figure of Quentin Benjamin, descending on the clueless superstar with a shooting star press! By the time the pop of the audience alerts him that somehting is amiss, its too late for Soul, and the Heisman candidate slams into his back!  The attack is too powerful for Soul's grip to withstand, and his fingers crumble away from Rico's boots, and the Brazilian slowly slides backwards to the mat. Face wrought fear, he scrambles to grab hold of the ring apron. But this only speeds his descent, and within moments he lies sprawled out on the floor, surrounded by the applause of the fans.    
   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[font="Arial Black"][color="#483D8B"]The Mardi Gras Homewrecking Crew[/color][/font]
LEFT: 5th
LEFT IN RING: 7
ELIMINATED: None
ELIMINATED BY: Team Heyross
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

COLE
Out go the Mardi Gras Homewrecking Crew! Soul looks mad, but he should be happy, now he can get to club earlier and get his grind on!

COACH
For black folk, getting our grind on means getting up before noon. 

Only a few inches away from the “Mardi Gras catastrophe”, One-Eye Wallace and Ned Blanchard rifle off punches as though they were unloading machine gun fire, angrily and aimlessly smashing their fists into each others' face. But, as one spent half his life in prison, and the other spent seven hundred dollars on a custom made penis costume, I shouldn't have to tell you who wins this round of boxing. With Blanchard seemingly out on his feet, Wallace prepares to strike him into unconsciousness with the [B]Silver Bullet[/B] (Samoan Spike). But as Wallace's hand screams towards his face, Blanchard rips his body beneath it, and carries himself to the ropes. He returns, intent on hammering the ex-con with his infamous [b]90210 enziguri[/b]. He goes rocketing through the skies, but not due to his trademark flashy kick, rather due to the [b]POS[/b] (lift up double arm DDT) executed by Marcellus Wallace.
  
“We a beast! Who? We, you dumbass bitch niggas! We!” Wallace hollers, directing his vile glare towards Ned. “That ether gonna be burnin' slow, Ned Blanchard.” 

“Why? Is ether the codename for your sister's vagina?” A nearby Krista wonders.

WALLACE
[img=http://www.websmileys.com/sm/mad/332.gif]

“Okay, take it easy there, OJ. Are you down for a bet? If you beat me in arm wrestling, youhavetoeliminateyourself from the match, but if I somehow beat you, illeliminatemyself. Are ya down?”

Wallace nods his agreement, figuring that an arm wrestling contest against a woman less then half his size should present zero problems. “Yo goose is cooked, bitch!”

“My goose is cooked? Inside that body of strapping black stallion, lies a dopey middle aged white man who likes to read Dave Barry books and TIVO's reruns of CSI, dying to be free. Very well, everyone please witness that Marcellus is agreeing to my original terms!” She proclaims, then under her breath adds. “LOL at Los Angeles public school system not teaching listening comprehension.”  

Smirking, Krista lies on her stomach and offers her arm for the unusual battle. Thankful for an easy way to eliminate the tag champion, Wallace joins her on the canvas, and tangles his fingers around her's. As expected, he cruises to a quick victory, minus all excitement, as he drops her arm to the canvas. Triumphantly, Wallace rises off the battle ground, verbally thumping his chest over such an untaxing victory, “You aint gotta go home, bitch, but you gots ta get the hell up out of here!”

“Ah! Please refer to our original agreement, dear sir!” 

Outside official Charles Robinson chimes into recite Krista's original offer. “If you beat me in arm wrestling, [b]you[b] have to eliminate [b]yourself[/b] from the match, but if I somehow beat you, I'll eliminate myself. Are ya down?”

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

Realizing his unrivaled failure, Wallace falls out in disgust. “My hubris! [img=http://www.websmileys.com/sm/sad/014.gif]”

He finds his eyes turning unaccountably hot, and his vision swims with unshed tears, as he's required to depart the ring under the terms of the bet. He glances to Krista for clemency, but the blond bombshell gives him nothing more then a stare as hard as a glacier.  

COACH
Did that nigga just say “hubris”?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The South Central Militia
LEFT: 6th
LEFT IN RING: 6
ELIMINATED: None
ELIMINATED BY: Krista Isadora Duncan
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

COLE
With Krista minus a partner she has to resort to some clever tactics to get things towards her favor. As you can guess its not exactly easy for her to go around dumping people over the ropes who outweigh her by over a hundred pounds. She either has to catch them off guard or in this case swindle them out of the match.

Elsewhere, the more conventional (although I hesitate to call a grown man in a bear suit “conventional”) Detective Bosley is dealing with Synth Esizer, flooring the rockstar with a right hand. Or in this case paw.  Frightened out of his wits by the raw power of the former NYPD officer, a trembling Synth begs for a show of mercy.  But its not Bosley who spares Synth from further beatings, rather its Simon Singleton who rushes behind the good officer, and catches him completely unaware with a bulldog! Quick to his feet, Synth offers no hints of gratitude towards his savior, and instead begins peppering him with left jabs. The blows prove to be nothing greater then a slight annoyance to DA BOSS~ and he rids himself of their nagging impact by bashing his enemy with a left cross. Thrilled with his minor accomplishment, Simon snaps and “image” of Synth's beaten body with an imaginary camera phone.  However, in his seconds of arrogance, Charlie Moss sneaks behind him, and dropkicks him to the canvas. 

COLE
There's a bit of a long running off again/on again rivalry between Team Heyross and The Enterprise. You had to know it would play out here.

Under no inclination to be put in a defensive position, Singleton hurriedly rushes back to his feet. But so does Moss, who strikes first with a series of hellacious kicks. The non-stop attacks chip away at Simon's gold body paint, leaving red welts on pink skin in their place, as he's bulldozed back into the ropes. Even as Simon is tangled into the cables, the kicks continue, determined to send him out of the arena in a wheelchair. Obviously not wishing to spend the week using handicap parking, Singleton mounts the most effective counterattack possible: shoving his vexatious enemy to the mat. Unfortunately there's no reprieve for Si's plight, as the other half of Team Heyross enters the fray with a trio of knife edge chops that rip right through the vulnerable flesh of the three time tag team champion.

COACH
You have to admire the the team work on display here by Team Heyross!

COLE
Coach speak for: Charlie's penis tastes of sweet Vienna sausage. and when he burst his love nectar in my mouth it tastes the taste of a spectacular chardonnay!

Singleton brings the rampant assault of chops to a sudden end, when he slices his knee into Benjamin's ripped midsection. With Benjamin quieted for the moment, Singleton attaches him into a front waistlock. Trying to move before his opponent can reclaim his strength, Singleton inches to the edge of the ring, where he attempts to launch Benjamin into the second row with a belly to belly suplex. A sudden panic recovers QB's energy, and he reaches to the top rope to freeze SS' efforts. But Singleton will not budge, and continues his attempt to propel Benjamin from the ring. Unable to simply tire Double S into surrender, Benjamin turns to more violent methods, and begins smashing his fists into his adversary's ears. Instantly Singleton's head begins ringing like a cathedral bell, and the stupendous pain is almost too crippling to bear. Forgetting all about quests for victories and tag title reigns, Singleton releases Benjamin and attends to the throbbing headache that overwhelms him. While BOSS may have forgotten all about Benjamin, the Washington native surely hasn't forgotten about him, and reminds Simon of his existence with a rolling wheel kick! The powerful force behind the attack recoils Singleton backwards until he's caught by the ropes. But they chose not to be gracious hosts, and expel him towards the outside! Preemptively the fans erupt with cheers for Simon's elimination, failing to notice the tenuous grip he maintains on the second rope. Beads of sweat streak across every inch of his body, turning his once thickly solid paint into a soupy mush.

“LET IT GO! LET IT GO! LET IT GO!” the fans chant, until finally Benjamin attempts to make all their dreams come true with a baseball slide towards the vulnerable Singleton. But Molly finally does something besides provide comedic relief, by scrambling towards Simon locale, and crossing his ankles around the bottom rope. Though Benjamin crashes into Si's chest with NASCAR worthy force, Molly's arrangement manages to keep her employer afloat. However, the danger of elimination remains ever present; Benjamin now takes to merely trying to shove Simon out of title contention. Fortunately, for Simon, who can do nothing more but sulk in the pool of his own body paint, Molly climbs to the apron to assist in holding his position until help can arrive. The fans pop as Molly's skirt rides up, inadvertently treating them to the teenagers-to-men jacktasticlly bootylisicous Cameltoe/Wedgie combo that finishes off the few Johnson-Johnson addicts that managed to hold fort during the fine exhibition of the laws of gravity put on by Krista's jiggling mammaries. 

Back in the ring, Ned offers his teammates some much needed help, arriving onto the scene to brutally stomp Benjamin away from his partner. 

COLE
Simon was on the brink right there, and an elimination would not have sat well with Mister Moneymaker!

Satisfied that Simon's safe from elimination for the time being, Ned directs his attention away from Benjamin and towards the considerably easier target of EMT Cash.  A roar of a right hand blasts Cash back into the corner, smashing breath from his lungs, leaving him swaying and half stunned. Ned strides forward, grunting in a tone deeper then a well, and blacker then obsidian. He raises his arm for a killing blow, but never gets to lower it thanks to a rake of the eyes from Cash!

COACH
“There's nothing more satisfying then making an honest living” Quote EMT Cash. Tell me, Cole, is there anything honest about jabbing your fingers into a man's eye?

Cash bellows a low primal shout and flies at Ned, wanting to use his body to crush The Handsome Hustler to the canvas. But Blanchard's hands seize Cash's tight costume, and with impossible strength he tosses him over the ropes! But, before the audience can even react to the possibility of an elimination, Cash's hands flick out with the speed of The Flash, and latch onto the ropes for what little safety they can provide him.

“OOOOOOH!” goes the audience.

COACH
What do they care? They couldn't pick this lame out of a one man police lineup!

Cash tests his fast fading grip on the ropes no longer, and pulls himself back into the ring. Witnessing the EMT's return to the contest, paints a ghastly scowl onto Ned's face, and he immediately blasts Cash with a thundering overhand punch to the face. As droplets of blood trickle down the edges of Cash's  eye slits, The Handsome Hustler flings him into the ropes. Given a clear path, Cash's feet return him towards the waiting lariat of Blanchard. But he sweeps towards the side the telegraphed attack, winding up behind Ned, who awkwardly careens forward. Blanchard regains his balance alarmingly quickly, and with anger lining his face, turns around to decapitate his enemy with a boomerang lariat. But, Cash counters this fast moving attack with an even faster moving European uppercut. The surprising strike throws Blanchard completely off balance, which permits Cash to trap him into a front facelock. In a scene reminiscent of Los Conquistadors earlier elimination, Cash brings Ned dangerously close to the ropes, and tilts his body backwards, letting gravity take care of the rest. Sadly, gravity exposes itself to be a pretty shitty tag partner, for it annoyingly dumps Ned onto the ring apron.

[b]“GET RID OF NED! GET RID OF NED!”[/b] the fans chant.

COACH
Why is it so hard for these losers to put someone over the ropes? What's with all this landing on the apron mess? Upper body strength you weak ass herbs! Get some Body By Jake, a membership at Krista's gym, just do something.

COLE
For a guy who spends all his time here at this announce booth you sure do talk a lot of smack.

Though Ned's now afflicted with Excedrin headache number 15, he refuses to let that stop him from the new lease he's gained on this match. After springing to his feet, he latches onto Cash's heavily gelled hair, and drives his neck into the ring ropes. All the air is instantly seized from Cash's lungs, and his every thought moves towards simply uncovering a way to breathe again. This preoccupation with basic health needs hinders him from seeing the dastardly approach of Simon Singleton. By the time he realizes he's in grave danger, Simon already has him on a freefall to the canvas!

[B]SPLAT![/B]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[color="#0000FF"][b]Rescue [/b][/color][color="#FF0000"][b]911[/b][/color]
LEFT: 7th
LEFT IN RING: 5
ELIMINATED: None
ELIMINATED BY: The Beverly Hills Blonds
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Sweat pools around the ring mats, as Cash's body lies void of motion, face down like a buried corpse. Referees swarm to attended to the defeated emergency responder, but the majority of audience attention remains focused on the high fiving Beverly Hills Blonds, and they breate them with a varitey of jeers and taunts.

COACH
Bout time! Dudes was overstaying they welcome too long. Once Los Diablos and The Love Doctors go out, ya'll gots to get da stepping to! 

Just as Cash begins to be helped off the mat, MARV upends both Blonds with a double flying forearm. Both their brains functioning at the highest level of cowardice, the recently floored pair begin to roll away from the Christ like figure. But, with robes flaying behind him, MARV trails their path, and arbitrarily decides to wreak havoc on Ned. He scrapes the Handsome Hustler off the canvas, then sets him on a path to the corner. Blanchard's back is ravaged by the rough ring posts, but that's a small inconvenience compared to the body splash the former Sk8r Boi aims at him. At the last possible moment, Blanchard dives out of MARV's trajectory, and the agile grappler is left to helplessly collide with the turnbuckles. While Ned may prefer to capitalize on the opportunity MARV's groggy state permits him, such an action is made wholly impossible by the running dropkick Krista targets him with. Ned quickly skirts aside, which leads to Krista nearly puncturing MARV's trachea with her high heels. The Express member's health ranks about somewhere next to frog fungus reproductive rates on her list of concerns, and the California babe simply uses his chest as a launching pad to flip herself back towards Ned. Her arm coils around his neck, and forces him to go down with her in an inverted DDT!

[font="Arial Black"][color="#FF8C00"]“KRISTA! KRISTA! KRISTA!”[/color][/font]

“I really would prefer, thank you dear Krista, most beautiful of all women, who without her majesty we simple peasants could never survive. Might be kind of hard to work into a chant, try it with rhythmic clapping!”

There's little time for Krista to instruct the fans on how to preform the chant, as MEL closes in on her with a shoulder block. But Krista overtakes her one time fitness protege with a whirling back kick that tailspins him into a state of grogginess. Miss California latches onto his arm and flings him through an outcropping of space towards the ropes. But MEL never reaches her intended destination; Charlie Moss smashes him to pieces with a catastrophic sit out spine buster! The fans react in sympathy pain, as they watch MEL curl into a ball of raging agony.

COACH
MARV and MEL once said they thought of Krista as a second mom. If my mom treated me that way, I'd smack the ho right in her messed up weave game. Right after I give her money for the rent and mow the lawn.

Just because Moss vanquished her foe doesn't mean Krista has a chance to rest, for she's now faced with his formidable sibling MARV. The Nerdly twin is far more successful in dealing with Krissy then his brother, seizing on Krista's wrist and throwing her into a corner.  He charges after her, past a brawling Synth and Benjamin, assuming he'll be able to merely clothesline her over the cables. However, Miss California prepares to counter his assault, by lifting her million dollar body into the air. The exact second MARV reaches the fitness queen, her award winning legs snake around his neck for a head scissors. 

COACH
Look at those legs! Those beautiful, long, sexy legs...

COLE
You've done this before...

COACH
I could do this all night long.

MARV takes hold of the objects of Coach's lust, and catapults their owner onto the ring apron. She comes down on her feet, but is instantly put on the defensive by MARV'S attempt to shove her off the ring apron. Krista fights off the attack with a swipe of her knee, rifling him back into the ring and causing him an immeasurable amount of pain. 

[font="Arial Black"][color="#FF0000"]“KRISTA! KRISTA! KRISTA!”[/color][/font]

COLE
Well, if Alix were here she'd be able to help Krista fend off MARV. But, mysteriously Alix is no where to be found. Hopefully, she's safe and sound, maybe just got lost on the way to the arena. But, Krista sure hasn't missed a step so far. Although her luck may be running out against MARV.

While Moss and Blanchard exchange chops in the background, Krista agilely leaps onto the top turnbuckle. Smiling devilishly, she motions for MARV to get his feet. When he finally agrees to her demands, her bewitching legs again find their way around his neck. Typically having your face buried in a fitness model's crotch is a deal with shelling out some serious scratch for, but not when she's attempting to give you a fifteen foot drop onto paper thin mats, as Krista is doing to MARV. Using his raw strength, MARV shifts his body to face away from Krista, so that he can simply electric chair drop her from the squared circle. But Krista again thwarts his plans, this time by bending her flexible body backwards over the ropes, and employing an unorthodox but crowd pleasing choke on her foe.

COACH
Buy Krista's entire line of fitness videos like MARV and MEL did, and you to can get illegally choked by the queen of fitness herself. What kind of customer mention is she running? Can, you imagine going into Burger King ordering a whopper and getting powerbombed by the assistant night manager?

Form the corner of an eye that's in danger of being swelled shut by Quentin Benjamin, Logan Mann spots the unfortunate predicament of MARV. Eager to be rid of his irksome archenemy, Logan is lured towards the possibilities of elimination presented by MARV's position. But first he must rid himself of his current transgressor, Benjamin. As such, he throws QB into the ropes. When the amateur wrestling star returns, Logan moves in swift succession, hitting him with a kick to the gut, and following that with a snap [b][color="#0000FF"]Percussion DDT[/color][/b]!

[font="Arial Black"][color="#FF0000"]“ROCKERS SUCK! ROCKERS SUCK! ROCKERS SUCK!”[/color][/font] the fans instinctively chant.

COLE
Percussion DDT!

As the crowd reacts to his deadly deeds on Benjamin, Logan's mind moves well past the execution of his finisher, and to the execution of MARV. While Krista's powerful thighs continue slowly suffocate MARV and arouse asphyxiation fetishts everywhere, Logan approaches his hated rival. In spite of his depleting energy, MARV summons enough strength to kick out at Logan. But this plays right into Mann's hands, quite literally, as he grabs hold of MARV'S attacking boots. As a roar of hate rumbles like a freight train through his throat, he upends MARV and Krista, causing them both to tumble backwards! Due to her gymnast worthy agility, Krista hasn't much difficulty in tightening her legs around the bottom rope and using them to pull herself back to the canvas. MARV, on the hand, isn't nearly as graceful as Krista, and instead has his night ended by an inelegant skid to the mats. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[b]The Christ Air Express[/b]
LEFT: 8th
LEFT IN RING: 4
ELIMINATED: None
ELIMINATED BY: The Heavenly Rockers
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

COACH
That's it for the [b]Skater Boooooyyyyysssss[/b]. You come all way back from another injury to get punked by the same people again?! Ya'll like a richman's Love Doctors. Ain't nothing to be proud of.  Mama Nerdly done raised up some bitch made hos.

ABDULLAH (dancing with Molly up and down ringside)
Praise be! Praise be! To cultivate the land blessed by the touch of the prophets, has yielded the fruits of success! Praise be to Logan Mann! Praise be to Synth Esizer! Praise be to Holly-Wood! And praise be to Abdullah Abir Nerdly, speaker of the prophets, and leader of men! و كنت لا ترى اللغة الوطنية الخاصة بك هنا ، يمكنك ان تساعد على خلق بها تصبح متطوعه المترجم. تحقق من  في لغتك برنامج ترجم 

MOLLY
Once again, what he said!

The fans are less then thrilled with the CAE's sudden elimination, and offer a buzzing chorus of jeers and boos in response. MARV does little to quell the now angered audience, scrambling back to his feet,  and demanding to be let back into the ring to get a piece of The Rockers. His attitude is only worsened, when he's forced to watch Synth and Logan offer him a condescending bid farewell. 

[font="Arial Black"][color="#FF0000"]“ROCKERS SUCK! ROCKERS SUCK! ROCKERS SUCK!”[/color][/font]

Dismayed by the ending of their second match back in the OAOAST, the CAE and their superfly Christ outfits are shuffled to back by the gaggle of ringside officials. Though they're now far removed from the ring, they can't help but take their frustrations out on a couple of tombstones on the entrance ramp. 

COLE
And we've been brought down to our final four, The Beverly Hills Blonds, The Heavenly Rockers, Team Heyross, and Krista Isadora Duncan all by herself. Coach, are you still sticking with Team Heyross? 

COACH
Absolutely. The Beverly Hills Blonds, The Rockers, both excellent teams. But Team Heyross is due and Team Heyross is hungry for a tag title run! Get 'em boys!

Quite obviously the wise choice of action for all parties would be to gang up on the undersized woman with nary an ally (or Ally) in sight. But this motley assortment of brutes will apparently never be confused as wise, as they completely ignore the partnerless tag team champion. This is just peachy for Krista, as it allows her time to adjust her makeup. Its not so peachy for Moss, who is struck down by roaring elbow from Blanchard. Watching his partner go down, immediately sets Benjamin on the warpath, and he lands a  pleathora of knife edge chops into Ned's chest. As Ned's body is protected by a giant penis costume, the attacks do piddling damage to him, and he's able to casually whip his rival away. As Benjamin makes the return trip, Blanchard lowers his head (more puns!), attempting to impale QB with his oversized member. But the athletic superstar leap frogs over the attack, thinking he can bounce off the opposite ropes to mount some offense of his own.  But this is far from the case, as his leap lands him right into the unwelcome clutches of Synth Esizer!

After taking a moment to steady Benjamin in his grip, Esizer utterly destroys that grip, dipping backwards and letting his rival fly towards the ring ropes. Now minus a muscle bound amateur wrestler, Esizer quickly hops back to his feet, expecting to find QB gasping for air on the ring ropes. So, imagine his surprise when he sees the solid gold figure of QB descending on him with a  spring board lariat! However great his surprise was, it doesn't stop him from ducking under Benjamin's arm, avoiding the lethal strike. But Synth's evasion of QB's attack casts itself as the end of his luck, as he's dropped by a spear from a charging Simon Singleton. Then Simon grabs onto Benjamin's arm and roughly contorts the limb with a powerful single arm DDT!

COACH
That ain't fair, BOSS. You gotta give a man some warning before you go kicking him in the face, and ripping out his arm. Common courtesy, duke.

The sudden jolt seems to shake Benjamin from his stupor, and place him into a status of blood-red rage. Acting on this sizable anger, he bats Simon to the ground with trio of overhand rights! Synth Esizer isn't spared from QB's wrath, either, and is knocked backwards by a forearm shiver! But, Benjamin's parade of offensive is rained on by a downpour of punches from The Handsome Hustler. Soon the two warriors have locked themselves into all out slug fest, wildly tussling against the cables as they each look to knock the other into next week!

“HEYROSS SUCKS! GET RID OF NED! HEYROSS SUCKS! GET RID OF NED!”

COLE
I think the fans may be hoping this leads to a double elimination. 

Logan attempts to use this little brawl to his advantage and enlists the help of Synth in order to lift the pair up and over the ring cables! But the two men succeeded in snagging hold of the ropes, shocking the fans who thought their time in this contest was at an end. Benjamin and  Blanchard drag themselves back onto the apron. However, they completely shun the duo that just tried to eliminate them and instead return to the task of hammering each other with lunatic haymakers. Not exactly certain that Ned can withstand a fist fight with the ultra deadly Benjamin, Singleton darts to his position to lend his assistance. But whatever method of help he had concocted will forever remain an unsolved mystery, as Krista emerges onto the scene to facecrusher him away from the proceedings! 

“YEAAAA!”

Dismissing the battered body of Singleton just as quickly as she destroyed it, Miss California throws herself into the war between Benjamin and Blanchard. Unfortunately her eagerness to head into the battle, costs her dearly. She falls victim to Logan and Synth's trap, and is promptly dumped over the ropes to the apron. While Benjamin and Mann continue an endless battle mere inches away, The Rockers take it upon themselves to bring about Krista's elimination, terrorizing her with a constant stream of stomps.

COLE
Krista has no partner to come to her rescue! She's held up fine so far, but that was when she could hide in the background and let's the others be preoccupied with one another. Now, she's in a pretty bad position.

COACH
Actually, I think its a pretty unique position. Its probably been over a decade since she's been hammered by a guy, muchless two. Brings back memories of those carefree days of middle school.

Krista cries out in pain, her teary blue eyes seeming to almost look out towards the entry ramp for Alix's late arrival. But Alix never arrives, and all that comes is the ceaseless stomping of The Rockers' boots, attacks that scuff and scrape her flimsy leather costume and leave her soaking in a pool of anguish. She claws at the edge of the ring with her hand, but the apron fabric is much to weak for her grip, and with each passing second the fan favorite is pushed closer and closer to elimination.

[font="Arial Black"][color="#FF0000"]“KRISTA! KRISTA! KRISTA![/color][/font] the audience bellows in unison.

Suddenly Krista is blessed with a knight in shinning armor. Charlie Moss takes both Rockers off their feet a double side Russian leg sweep! Though he only struck down The Rockers due to them being in the way of offering assistance to his partner, Krista is able to reap the benefits of his action and take a much needed breather.

COACH
Charlie? Wh...why..why? You accidentally went Captain-save-a-ho on a vegetarian, and a homosexual. I know you didn't know the vegetarian part, but let's get some better looking out next time!  

Realizing that he's now faced with nearly insurmountable odds against the best athletes in the OAOAST, Blanchard begins simply lobbing Hail Mary punches every which way, praying he'll be bestowed the gift of a double knockout. But he's no match for the precise striking technique of Moss, and with one simple uppercut, the former Minnesota Gopher blasts the detested heel off the apron!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[b][color="#9932CC"]The Beverly Hills Blonds[/color][/b]
LEFT: 9th
LEFT IN RING :3
ELIMINATED: Rescue 911
ELIMINATED BY: Team Heyross
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“YEAAAAAAAA!” screams the audience, delighted with The Beverly Hills Blond's expulsion from the contest.

COLE
Woah what a punch, Charlie Moss beating that dick! And Simon, Ned, and Molly are down and out in Beverly Hills, failing in their quest to be come four time tag team champions.

COACH
My prediction is only two eliminations from being right on! Or maybe one and a half, 'cause Krista ain't got no bitch! Shoulda been a hetero. A man wouldn't have you out here all by yaself. But, we hope Alix is okay blahblahblahblah. Ain't got no sympathy for no dykes!

Clutching his bruised jaw, Ned has to be restrained by the officials, and Singleton from returning towards the ring to wage an all out assault on the bothersome Team Heyross. While TH are dismissive of Ned's rage, The Floridans seem to feed off it and expand the intensity behind their applause and cheers for the Blonds' elimination. This does sit particularly well with Ned, who loses what's left of his mind in an ill advised attempt to incite a fight with a group of annoying front row hecklers. Thankfully for the OAOAST's legal bills, he's kept at bay by Molly and Simon.

COLE
Did Molly have to leave her sheep out here? Jesus Christ it smells like your underwear, Coach!

Now noticing that she's the lone person in the line of sight of two very violent, very murderous, meatheads, Krista is forced to craft another scheme to save herself from a prolonged beating.

“Hey-ya, Charlie.” Her Southern California accent rings out. “Yeah, dude, come here I wanna talk to you. Come on aboard the SS Krista, a chill boat wherein no ill will is espoused!”

Appearing to be the smarter one of the duo, Benjamin warns of the Krista Isadora Duncan trickery that has befallen countless other dupes and marks. For the moment it looks as if Moss will heed his partner's advice, which forces Krista to step up her smooth talk.

“From a purely platonic, nonheterosexual standpoint, you are for real, my favorite wrestling bro. Why? Because you remind me of my two favorite people....”

[IMG=http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y39/Portfree/charlie_sheen_4.jpg]
[b]&[/b]
[IMG=http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y39/Portfree/kate_moss1A_300_400.jpg]

Convinced by her charm, and her impressive use of Google image search, Moss joins the uncharacteristicsly bubbly blond on aboard the SS Krista. But as expected, there's no thrilling conversation forthcoming only the steady whistle of the superkick the trickster aims towards Moss' face. Thanks to his supernatural reflexes, Moss is able to dip bellow her over priced pump. But, Benjamin's luck is far worse, and his face is shredded by her fatal strike. As the fans explode with a song of cheers, the Washington native crumples onto the apron, face slack, eyes vacant, all but removed from this contest. 

COACH
There's still Charlie! There's still Charlie! Come on, Charlie, go and get it Charlie!

Moss offers nothing but a quick glance to his fallen partner, before investing all his focus and rage towards the woman that left him beaten. He lunges at her with a lariat, but she evades the strike, and his arm and body shoot harmlessly by. The aftermath of his missed move isn't quite harmless, however, as Krista grabs onto his head and smashes his face through the ring apron! Jolts of pain now ripping through his head, Moss staggers from side to side, eventually walking himself into Krissy's deadly inverted lung blower! Moss pops off her body, flying from the apron, shrieking in chilling pain, as his  body plummets to the outside mats.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
[b][color="#808000"]Team Heyross[/color][/b]
LEFT: 10th
LEFT IN RING: 2
ELIMINATED: The Beverly Hills Blonds, The Mardi Gras Homewrecking Crew
ELIMINATED BY: Krista Isadora Duncan
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

The screams of glee from the audience is completely deafening, as they now see that Krista is but an elimination away from retaining the tag titles all by her lonesome.

[font="Arial Black"][color="#FF0000"]“K-I-D! K-I-D! K-I-D!”[/color][/font] the fans bleat, pumping their fist to give Krista the extra bit of encouragement she needs to achieve the impossible.

COACH
My pick! My pick! Why did you have do this to me, lord! I just want to live!

COLE
Um, yes. Definitely a tough end to swallow for Team Heyross, making it all the way to the final four, just to see their chances of being OAOAST tag champs slip away. Well, Krista, by herself, has gotten to the end of the match, and has had to pretty much outthink, outwit, and generally be one step ahead of everyone around her to survive. And while doing all this she has eliminated a whopping five teams. But The Rockers have accounted for three eliminations thus far. Who's going to win out? And will Alix finally make an appearance? We haven't heard anything from the back, except that she hasn't called, and isn't answering her cellphone or home phone. She's a bit flaky but she usually likes to get to the arena early to count the sprinkles on the donuts.

On the outside Abdulah Abir Nerdly pays no mind to the gargantuan outpouring of cheers and support offered towards Krista, and instead lights the cigars to celebrate the what in his warped mind is the impending arrival The Rockers' second tag title reign.

ABDULLAh
[img=http://forums.sohh.com/images/smilies/smokin.gif] فعلنا ذلك! ث الكراسي الهزازه اكملوا مهمتهم وجعلت!

Still reeling from the awful after effects of Moss' double side Russian leg sweep, the remaining tag team slowly pulls their dizzied body upright. Their frayed  health and weary mental state is given sharp jolt by the noticeable absence of both The Beverly Hills Blonds, and Team Heyross. The startling fact that this match has now been turned into a two on one handicap contest against a far smaller opponent, decorates The Rockers' face with smiles that stretch all the way back to Nevada.

But, Krista nearly knocks Logan all the way back to Nevada with a spinning wheel kick! The terrificly painful attack steamrolls the Rockers' frontman and brings forth a monstrous ovation from the audience. However, it also brings forth a monstrous shout of anger from Esizer, who charges the one woman demolition derby with a shoulderblock. But the SoCal hottie rips him off his feet with a crowd popping leg lariat! The beach bunny doesn't bother to celebrate her minor victory, instead deriving her pleasure from blasting Synth with a dropkick. But just as soon as he goes down, does Logan come back up, ready to eliminate her en route to a second tag title reign. But Krista has other ideas in mind, namely whipping him into the ropes. She lowers her head as Mann returns from the cables, but the Wildchild leapfrogs the champ and lands behind her. He twirls around to blast her with forearm smash, but Krissy counters the strike by stunning him with an inverted atomic drop! He clutches his ham n'eggers, and screams in white hot pain, as the crowd hoots and hollers over his misery. Their soon given even more to cheer about as Krista winds up and annihilates his once handsome face with a superkick! 

[b][size="3"][color="#FF8C00"]“KRISTA! KRISTA! KRISTA”[/color][/size][/b]

COLE
Krista's Great California Adventure!

[i]Now[/i], Krista can celebrate, and she delights in fluffing her golden locks, “Et ma coiffure est toujours aussi parfaite!” she shouts in a comical French accent.

With his charges bedraggled by the surprising power of the fitness queen, Abdullah is required to try his luck against Krissy, to afford Synth and Logan a moment to rest.  He leaps onto the ring apron, instantly earning Krista's attention with insulting proclamations from his shrill voice. Wanting nothing more then to rip out his “nails on a chalkboard” voice box, two quick strides of her long legs bring her to his location. But, there's no moment for her to attack, as he snags hold of her flowing hair, and drives her downwards into the top rope! The fans fear this may be a prelude to an elimination of their beloved heroine. But their worries prove unfounded, as Krista shrugs aside the cheap shot to rearrange Abby's face with a SLAP! Abdullah drops away from the apron, in a hollering, vertical pillar of pain, crashing on the mats in front of a roundly unsympathetic audience.

“BURN IN HELL ABDULLAH! BURN IN HELL ABDULLAH! BURN IN ABDULLAH!” they yell, which may make someone feel sorry for Abdullah were he not such a disagreeable prick.

KRISTA
[IMG=http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y39/Portfree/jesusagree.gif]

COACH
Holly, you stay back! No telling what she'll do! 

COLE
Holly's a good looking woman, I think we know exactly what Krista will do.

Reverting her focus back to the more troublesome members of the Rocker crew, Krista smashes her elbow into Synth's gullet. He stumbles backwards, now more concerned with simply breathing then winning. This leaves him prey to any manner of viscous assaults, and the foxy mama capitalizes on this fact, by leaping into is back, and putting her knees to her chest to pulverize him with a lung blower! As the fans cheer her showing, Synth spews out shouts of misery. Hearing his bandmate's cries of distress, Logan rises to his feet and crazily directs a “superman” punch towards Miss California's lovely face. What the move packs in rage, it lacks in technique, form and most importantly speed, and Krista is easily able to duck bellow it and glide herself behind Mann. The momentum of his miss clumsily carries him forward, but he's held into place by Krista's hands being wrapped around his bloodied face. His entire body is violently dragged downward by the force of Krista's ode to Redd Fox the [b][color="#00FFFF"]"Elizabeth, I'm coming to join ya, honey! It's the big one!” [/color][/b] (Reverse X-Factor). The fans squawk with excitement, bursting with another roaring round of “KRISTA! KRISTA! KRISTA!” chants. 

COLE
Partner or no, Krista is rocking out on the Rockers!

Though he'd much prefer to remain as inconspicuous as possible until the victory celebration, Abdullah has no choice but to return to the apron to run distraction for his team. Once again, he's disposed of as quickly as he arrived, brought down to the crowd's delight by a scissors kick. But, this time, his interference pays dividends for someone besides KID, as Synth is able to surprise her with a toss over the ropes. Everyone in The Rocker camp is ready to break out the champagne for what they expect is an elementary victory. Obviously they don't know Krista. The crowd does, however, and pops mightily as she skins the cat back into the ring with undemanding ease. Incredibly frustrated by his teams' inability to eliminate a thirty five year old single mother, Synth tries to channel his anger into pummeling Krista. This succeeds for about three seconds before Krista starts slicing up  his legs with well timed kicks. Incapable of bracing himself for her parade of strikes, Synth tries to create some distance by thrusting her into the cables. She's bounced back into his waiting boot, doubling her over, and giving him time for a highly sought after breather. But, Holly churlishly demands that he stay on the aggressive, and what Holly wants, Holly gets. His arms coil around her neck, and he falls backwards hitting her with the [b]Percussion DDT![/b]

SYNTH
:headbang:

[b][color="#FF0000"]“SYNTH HAS AIDS! SYNTH HAS AIDS! SYNTH HAS AIDS!”[/color][/b]

ABDULLAH
Destiny, Synth Esizer! Destiny is upon you! Seize its hand and know an infinite bounty of spiritual and physical wealth! 

COACH
There it is! Percussion DDT, just like that, baby. Now you just gotta get her up and over the ropes! Its easy! 

Easy if you're sitting on leather sofa behind an announce table. Slightly more difficult if you're the guy with a forearm lodged directly into his balls, as Synth so happens to be! While the fans cheer for Synth's anguish, Krista hops upright, trying to get a read on Logan. But, the only read given to her is when she notices a sharp tug on her tight leather outfitt. Granted no opportunity to battle back against her aggressor, she's once again heaved over the cables. But, she simply skins the cat as if it were as routine and mundane as brushing her teeth in morning. The audience doesn't treat it with the casual disregard Krista shows it, and presents her with a raucous cheer for her continued survival. Logan, doesn't exactly share the fans pleasured sentiments, and angrily dives upon Krista with front facelock, foreshadowing another Percussion. But, alas, Logan in all his haste and ire forget to subdue the fiery babe with a kick to the gut, and as such she powers her way out of the hold with punches to his midsection. 

COLE
Pretty amazing performance by Krista! The problem for The Rockers is that they come at her one at a time. That's nothing to her, that's what she deals with all the time. Its the two on one advantage they haven't been able to use, because when one is up, the other is already knocked down.

Seeing her chances of being married to an OAOAST champion (lofty goals!) fade before her very eyes, Holly shrieks screams at Logan to stage a counterattack. But her demands fall on deaf ears, as Logan is at the cruel mercy of Krista's whims. And those whims drive her to perform a back flip onto her stomach, forcing a limp Logan to go airborne with her. Mann 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 the fans clap excitedly for Krista's moment of victory.

[b][size="3"][color="#FF8C00"]“KRISTA! KRISTA! KRISTA!”[/color][/size][/b]

Synth ambushes the recipient of the crowd cheers and preps her for a basic body slam. But the elementary hold turns into a complex mess for the Sin City dweller when Krista's leather bound body slips out of his clutches and lands behind him. Before Synth is even made aware of the fact that she's no longer within his grasp, her heels are dropkicking him towards the ropes. Never the most graceful OAOAST superstar, Esizer manages to trip over his own two feet, and deposit his chunky frame onto the second rope. His klutzy loss is actually Krista gain, because she believes that he's in the perfect position to be eradicated by a high risk attack. The sultry sex kitten charges towards her vulnerable foe and leaps through the second rope, while latching onto the third and second cable to maintain her precious balance. She uses her generated momentum to swing back towards Synth, seeking to strike him with the 619,(or 310 if you will)! Her strike lands with pinpoint accuracy, and Synth is thrust back towards the center of the ring, knocked utterly loopy by her powerful kick. Not entirely sure of where he is or what he's doing, he staggers to his feet. His vision swims to the point where Krista's sling shotting body appears as nothing but a yellow and black blur. Despite his hindered sight, he knows something is wrong with the fact that it feels like a noose is being tightened around his neck, and moves quickly to correct it. He rushes towards the ropes, with the idea of powerbombing the vixen to the hell bellow. But  he unfortunately plays right into Krista's trap and she bends backwards to hurricanrana him towards a crushing tag title defeat!

“YEAA...” the fans prepare themselves to explode with glee, but are stopped short when they notice Logan latching onto Synth's leg, preventing him from being vanquished by  Krista's hurricanrana.

COLE
Oh no.

COACH
And this is where, Krista should be asking herself where is my girlfriend. Because now she is screwed.

Drapped over the ropes, with only the support of the crowd to call on for assistance, it certainly looks as though Krista is screwed. But the blond bombshell is as resilient as she is moody, and flat out refuses to capitulate to the trap The Rockers have backed her into. Her body thrashes and writhes like a fish out of water, trying to gather the forward momentum needed to bring herself back into an upright position. 

[b][size="3"][color="#FF8C00"]“KRISTA! KRISTA! KRISTA!”[/color][/size][/b] the audience tries to rally her.

But a new difficulty presents itself, that of Abdullah Abir and Holly attaching themselves like leeches to her hands. Together they expend huge amounts of energy to try and worm her loose of Synth and bring her down to their world. To a world where The Rockers are tag team champions.

COLE
No! This isn't right! Someone stop this!

The referees warn against it, but no threats of a disqualification are made, and as the boos begin growing so to do does the power of Abdullah and Holly's hold. Krista tries her hardest to fight against the terrible position she's been placed in, looking towards the entrance ramp, praying, wishing, hoping that Alix is soon to arrive. But there's no Alix, and there's also no hope for victory. Abdullah and Holly win out, finally pulling her depressingly limp body off of Synth. She slips to the floor, tumbling onto her knees, where her hair forms a sun stroked cloak in front of her dejected face.   

COACH
Its over! They did it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
[b][color="#FF00FF"]Krista Isadora Duncan[/color][/b]
LEFT: 11th
LEFT IN RING: 1
ELIMINATED: The Love Doctors, James Blond and Faqu, Los Diablos, The South Central Militia, Team Heyross
ELIMINATED BY: The Heavenly Rockers
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

BUFFER
The winners and brand new One and Only World Tag Team Champions...THE HEAVENLY ROCKERS! 

Needless to say, the official announcement does not sit well with the spectators, and their boos are fierce and plentiful, raining down from every inch of medium sized arena. But not even all the hatered in the known universe could wipe the smile away from The Rockers' faces.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
[color="#FF0000"][b]the WINNNAZ[/b][/color]
The Heavenly Rockers
ELIMINATED: Los Conquistadors,  Los Diablos, The Christ Air Express, Krista Isadora Duncan
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Past the enraged jeers of a debris hurling audience, Abdullah and Holly enter the ring to congratulate the victors on their glorious accomplishments. Matching each other's prideful grin, Synth and Abdullah exchange high fives, and tight, tearful victory hugs. Logan and Holly's celebration of his mammoth accomplishment is even more intimate; they share a salaciously juicy kiss, as his face shines with the brightness of a supernova. Referee Billy Silverman enters the ring to pass the titles to Synth, only to have them gruffly snatched away  by Abdullah, who places them at the feet of the newly crowned champions. Synth's hands shoot to his side, and his head cocks upwards towards the heavens, an arrogant salute to the ultimate triumph he's achieved tonight.

COLE
Cheap shot tactics, and a numbers advantage have allowed The Rockers to take a disgusting victory in this battle royal. What a shame, and what a great disservice to Krista and the other teams in this match.

COACH
Cheap shot tactics, and a numbers advantage have allowed The Rockers to take a disgusting victory in this battle royal? Naw, you got it wrong son. You explain to me what cheapshots were given in the Los Conquistadors, Los Diablos, and Christ Air Express, eliminations. All three were clean, and all three are part of the reason the rock n'wrestling era begins anew! Mad props to The Rockers! 

Krista seems to have quickly resigned herself towards a life without tag team gold, and now focuses her energy on uncovering Alix's whereabouts. Suspicion and worry leak into her mind, gathering themselves into a cloud so thick, that her voice cracks into softened tones as she implores the referees to tell if they've heard anything about Alix. Their negative answers do nothing to alleviate her doubt, and a cold fear begins frosting over her body.

COLE
The match is over and still no sight of Alix, who is almost always without fail at Krista's side. Its just so odd not seeing her out here. Yes, she's ditzy but when it comes to Krista, she's always realizable. I'm afraid something terrible may have happened to her. Do you think The Rockers had anything to do with Alix's disappearance?

COACH
Don't go around making those accusations! Why would they just hit one tag team? Why not hit a couple, and make things easier? Let these men enjoy their moment in the spotlight, their much deserved moment in the spotlight, without accusations of kidnapping or assault. I'm sure Alix just saw a Hello Kitty costumed she really liked, and decided to go trick or treating instead.  Sure she'll get fined, but she's rich, she can afford it.

COLE
Well, regardless, tonight belongs to The Rockers, because like it or not, and I know many of us do not, the fourth title reign of Chicks Over Dicks has ended, and the second reign of The Rockers has begun.

Edited November 1, 2007 by Patty O'Green