Patty O'Green 0 Report post Posted January 4, 2008 Television MOTY HeldDOWN 8/4-Tag Team Scramble Cage Match to crown the first ever One and Only World Tag Team Champions. Three Titles HI-YAH Tag Team Championship, WDW Tag team Championship, OAOAST World Tag Team Championship All alike in dignity In fair Minneapolis where we lay our scene From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean From forth the fatal brawl of these seven foes The Heavenly Rockers WDW Tag Team Champions Team Heyross The Global Party Exchange HI-YAH Tag Team champions The Mardi Gras Homewrecking Crew D*LUX The South Central Militia OAOAST world tag team champions Chicks Over Dicks A group of star-crossed titles are unified One and Only World Tag Team Championship HeldDOWN~! August 2nd, Minneapolis, Minnesota Tag Team Scramble Cage Match to crown the first ever One and Only World Tag Team Champions. The view returns to the arena where a sold out (and ripped off) crowd is on it's feet in anticipation of the long waited unification match. The camera focuses on Micheal Buffer who begins his opening announcement BUFFER Ladies and gentlemen it is time for the seven team Scramble Cage Unification Match to determine who will be crowned the One and Only World Tag Team Champions! The rules are as follows, the match will start out with two teams, with the other five to enter at random intervals. In order to be eliminated a team must either be pinned or submitted. The last remaining team is the new One and Only World Tag Team Champions. Let's meet the first two teams! COLE I can't wait! The harsh opening of Cross That Line by Rick Ross fills the arena with a deep sense of dread. As the audience murmurs with anticipation, the formerly bright lights morph into a troubling blue hue. Convict....Convict....Convict Up front Yeah.... Convict Music While the haunting piano melody heightens the tension in the venue, scenes of The South Central Militia's special brand of havoc blaze across the Angletron, showing the alarmed fans what type of savage aggression the men who are soon to arrive are capable of. Oooooh ooooh oooooh If you ever cross that line I guarantee ya there'll be nothin' to save ya (save ya, save ya) I got a whole bunch of gorillas ready to pull the trigga And we all for that paper (paper) Comin' from a life of crime Tryna be on my best behavior You see my rep's gettin' bigger but still that same nigga bustin' shots at them haters (them haters, them haters) But only if you cross that line The colossal bass of Rick Ross' street anthem booms through the venue, heralding the arrival of the first team. The entrance doors shoot apart, and jeers rise into the air as The South Central Militia steps through a cloud of smoke to take position on the entrance ramp. Wearing a pair of flared Red Monkey Jeans, decorated by a Chinese feudal map, and a black LRG throwback track jacket, Vincent Santana throws his arms out to his side, and unleashes a feral growl into the streams of blue light that flare about him. The glowing streams spark beautifully across his sleek body as he releases his deep rooted rage upon the viewing world. His partner, wearing Artful Dodger Jeans with a blue gothic pattern on the side, and a t-shirt boasting a giant symbol of a grenade, stands in solemn menace, intimidating any unlucky enough to meet his gaze. BUFFER From the mean streets of South Central Los Angeles, they are Vincent Santana, Marcellus Wallace, the South Central Militia! The spectators welcome the end of the introduction with more disdain for these sickening goons. Quite dissimilar to many teams, who usually don't pay attention to such disrespect from the audience, the natives of South Central dish out verbal trashing to each attendee they encounter until they reach the squared circle. They dive into the ring, and ascend to opposite turnbuckle where their fists pump into the air in defiant triumph. The camera rotates around their rebellious ritual, as the chilling blue lights continue to dance along the ringside area. COLE Former tag team champions, The South Central Militia. Unlucky number one, but if anyone can overcome the odds it's these two. Now, folks, when the cage is lowered you'll see platforms on each corner, those can be used by competitors to launch any manner of high risk aerial assaults on their rivals. COACH Enough about that! Who is team two? Who is starting this match? 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! COLE Oh my! A red pyro waterfall illuminates the entrance stage, and all eyes lock onto the currently vacant entranceway. The pep rally drum beats of Girlfriend rip to life while the red waterfall is courted by a beautiful pink pyro fountain. Standing next to the gorgeous display of pyrotechnics are miniature Angletrons, showcasing COD's entrance video, a highlight reel filled with clips of their breathtaking moves, interspersed with fly through images of the City of Angels, and shots of the champions in various seductive poses. COACH Watch out for your ears, Cole! BOOOOOM!!! A violent explosion of gold pyro destroys the once docile pyrotechnics showing, and causes the capacity crowd to put forth a gargantuan cheer. As the smoke clears, Krista Isadora Duncan emerges through the hazy remnants of the fireworks. She sports a stomach exposing red Obey™ tank top that reads "Make Art. Not War" and a black open sided mini skirt that reveals her entire left leg, a show of skin that's always a crowd favorite! Her baby blue eyes cut a hole through her ring based rivals, while she strikes an alluring pose for the screaming audience. BUFFER And the champions, first, from Los Angeles, California, she is the CEO of Mrs.Spezia's sweeties, the Hollywood Bad Girl, ALIX MARIA SPEZIA! And her partner, from Los Angeles, California, she is a best selling author, a fitness queen, and star of the world famous FIT with KID line of exercise videos, she is Miss California Krista Isaodra Duncan! Together they are the OAOAST world tag team champions, America's Sweethearts, Chicks Over Dicks! Amidst the resonating cries Alix Maria Spezia bounces through the entrance way in a white tie-up front tube top that's cropped all the way to the chest and white booty shorts. Although her fur wristbands, scarf, and leg warmers are fake, the excitement of the fans is very real as they watch her settle down long enough to join hands with Krista. Krista twirls Alix around, then pulls her into her arms. Alix turns over her shoulder and blows a cute kiss to the camera, leading super imposed red lips to pop on the screen. COLE Los Angeles represent tonight! Two teams born and raised in the city of angels kicking it off in the quest to become the One and Only World Tag Team Champions. Chicks Over Dicks are fresh off their win at Syndicated over Jade Rodez and Mackenzie, wearing a little bit more clothes tonight. COACH These mamis was looking good enough to eat at Syndicated! But how are they gonna survive six other teams? How are they gonna outlast Team Heryoss or The Rockers? When the girls reach the ring, Alix grabs Krista by the waist and hoists her on the apron with startling ferocity that Krista wouldn't expect from the normally submissive Alix. With her ego swelled to bursting by the unparalleled adulation of the audience, Alix coolly reclines against the apron. She feels the smoothness of Krista's legs coil around her bare stomach, and her body tingles in immediate response. While Ally stands lost within the rapture of the pleasuring touch, Krista passes a middle finger towards the battery of cameras that flash away. Finally the champions enter the ring, and the cage lowers around them. COLE Earl Hebnner and Billy Silverman have been assigned to handle this contest and they'll have their work cut out for them tonight. I don't envy them in the least! Silverman calls for the bell and the match is underway. “C-O-D! C-O-D! C-O-D!” Neither team wastes any time in kicking off this epic match, as all four members dart towards the ropes. The SCM return to the center of the ring, wielding murderous lariats. Thankfully for the health of the fan favorites, they shoot beneath the approaching weapons, and continue their jog. Once they reach the cables, they use them as catapults to springboard themselves back to their foes with stereo dropkicks! Marcellus is wiped out by Alix with ease, but the quicker Santana sidesteps Krista's shot. She's able to land on her feet, but has to deal with the incoming lariat from the thug. The blond beauty rolls beneath his attack, but Whitey keeps his arm extended and floors an unaware Alix! Outraged over her partner's downfall, Krista eyes vengeance. She leaps onto the third cable, and hurls her moonsaulting figure towards her rival. While she connects perfectly with his frame, her landing is far from a happy one, as he catches her onto his scrawny shoulders. Her platform boots kick and pound his back in an effort to win freedom, but it's of little use, and he streams forward and hurls her into the steel wall. The structure vibrates mightily against the horrific impact, and soon the ring does the same as Krista's limp body plummets to the canvas. “LET'S GO KRISTA! LET'S GO KRISTA! LET'S GO KRISTA!” Her body screaming in agony, KID has a monstrous time willing herself upright. Once she does, her muddled vision spots the terrible sight of a body splashing Santana. Her instinct is to immediately dive away, but her wobbly legs refuse to do such. Thus she can only emit tortured screams once Vinny's knee explodes onto her skull. COACH Dayum! These boys have come to win! Krista's battered bones sink towards the mat, and her body trembles from the shockwaves of the incredible pain. Left at the mercy of the brute, she's ripe for an early elimination, or worse yet, further beatings. Thankfully, her girlfriend heroically comes to her aid, rifling her fur covered wrist bands into Vinny's back. Though the attacks do little damage to Whitey, they accomplish her task of distracting him from Krista. Unfortunately, he now sets his feral gaze on Alix. Ally tries to appeal to him with some zen wisdom, “Now, now Vincent, anger serves his own master. Buddha be with you” Needless to say Ally's trickery doesn't meet with much success and Whitey's BAPE shoes flash out with a yakuza kick! The Hollywood Bad Girl cleverly evades the attack by handspringing backwards. Unfortunately her agile moves bring her into the clutches of One-Eye, who snares her into a wheel barrel suplex. She's foisted into the sky, where her hands instantly search for a bull dog counter. However, Whitey snuffs out that move by weaving past her curled locks, and trapping her inside an inverted 3/4th face lock. From there the duo ravages her neck with a brutal wheel barrel neckbreaker! The Minnesota crowd reacts with disgust and horror at Alix's decimation and peppers the ring with boos. Ignoring the negative fans, Wallace attempts a pinfall that's scored by referee Billy Silverman.... ONE TWO Krista miraculously destroys the count; using Santana's skinny physique as a launching pad, she soars through the skies towards an unaware Wallace. Her spiked heels impale his corn rowed head and leave him uttering howls of misery. “YEAAAAAA!” Though Alix is safe for the time being, Krissy is placed in grave danger, as the treacherous Santana descends upon her. His bony fingers weave through her sun bathed hair, and uses it as a leash to cruelly yank her upright. She's shoved between his jeaned legs, as a despicable smirk slips onto his face. Her immediate thought is to sink to hier knees, and shoot his testicles through his throat with a low blow. But by the time she actually has that thought, her million dollar body is being drug through the air by a powerbomb! Her mouth pours out a torrent of screams, as her sadistic rival crashes her back into that of her grounded girlfriend's. Alix's body bucks and thrashes and her mouth wails against the mat. She's totally powerless to control herself as the misery pushes out constant cries of terror. As if the sounds of Alix's pain weren't bad enough for KID, Vinny hoists her skywards for a second powerbomb. The collision with the mat is every bit as brutal as the previous powerbomb, and the ring earthquakes at the impact. Pleased with the damage done, Santana holds his whimpering enemy into a pinfall. ONE TWO Amazingly Krista calls upon the strength to kick out, and the crowd is thrilled as a result. One-Eye, however, is adamant that Silverman's count was unusually slow, and gives him a vulgar earful. COACH Cole, it's only a matter of time before the SCM eliminate COD! While One-Eye berates Silverman, his comrade furthers the task of annihilating the OAOAST tag champion. He traps into a double underhook, then promptly strikes her with a double arm DDT! Though the move was certainly delivered with enough power to hold Krista down for the three count, a pin doesn't appear to be forthcoming. No a top turnbuckle based One-Eye Wallace demands that more carnage by inflicted upon his rival. He eyes down her crippled bones with bestial glare, steadying himself to obliterate her with a moonsault(!). COLE Marcellus is a heck of a natural athlete, but a moonsault? He can't pull that off. Indeed he can't, due to Alix dropkicking his legs from under him! The confused gang banger sinks downwards, where his balls of steel are crushed by the steel of the turnbuckle! “YEAAAAA!” Though the audience is delighted, Santana is understandably infuriated. He locks onto Alix with another yakuza kick, but finds the elusive lass impossible to hit. Thus his boots collide perfectly with the back of his partner, leaving a deep red foot print in his coffee colored skin. As the crowd's cheers grow louder, Ally floors Whitey with a dropsault! Caught by a surge of adrenaline, Alix sings “My bologna has a first name, it's O-S-C-A-R. My bologna has a last name it's M-E-SOMETHING-SOMETHING-I'm just gonna go to the top turnbuckle now, okay?” Making good on her promise, the Los Angelenia joins the Los Angelino at the highest point of the ring ropes. Putting aside the immeasurable pain she's caused him, he rises to his feet in order to pound the perky babe with punches. However, this plays right into his plan, as she stuffs his head between her lean thighs. The murmur of anticipation for Ally's planned attack is almost deafening, and the audience can hardly contain themselves when she executes her coup de grace. She does a graceful front flip that hauls herself and One Eye off the ropes and sends them plummeting through the skies. While Alix lands on the seat of her booty shorts, Wallace is far less lucky, finding his brain reduced to mush by a top rope Burning Sensation When You Urinate! "FUCKING AWESOME! FUCKING AWESOME!" the spectators holler. COLE Not for Wallace it wasn't! Alix attempts a pin and the crowd counts along. CROWD ONE CROWD TWO But Vinny breaks up the pin with an elbow drop! The crowd is displeased with his interference, but he pays them no mind as he yanks Alix's upright by her arm. Her head is trapped within a front facelock, and before she can think of mounting an escape effort, Vinny wounds her neck with an Implant DDT! The attack stings fiercely and Alix's face contorts with pain. “SCM BTK AOK!” Vincent belts in glory above his vanquished opponent. COACH South Central Militia Born To Kill, Always Out Killing! Santana begins directing a wave of stomps towards Alix's injured neck, causing the girl to throw out tortured cries with each blow. Finally he ceases his stomping, but does so only in order to drive his elbow into her throat. Suddenly, and without warning, the countdown clock appears on screen, distracting Vincent from his slaughter of the helpless maiden. The fans are eager to count along with the logo, 5 4 3 2 1! COLE Who will it be? The answer to the million dollar question is a team who's arrogance is worth it's weight in diamonds and gold...THE MARDI GRAS HOMEWRECKING CREW. Eazy Lover fails to lull the crowd into a peaceful mood, and the first sight of the HI-YAH tag team champions is met with large round of boos. Outfitted in plain beige pants, the king of the Fro, Lucius Soul grooves out onto the stage with a toothsome smile taking hold of his face. At his side is his pornstache stroking associate, Rico De Janiero, clad in his classic Brazilian flag trunks. The suave grappler holds both belts in his hands and foists them towards the green and yellow lights that hover above. COACH This is what I'm talking about! HI-YAH tag team champions, The Mardi Gras Homewrecking Crew! Took those belts from D*LUX, and now they're looking to take him an even bigger pair of titles. Rico saunters down the entry way, flaunting his spray on tan towards the finest ladies the front row has to offer. Soul is another story entirely. The native of The Big Easy darts down the ramp, and begins climbing his way up the cage. Inside the ring, Santana recollects the heated confrontation his team had with the Crew, and is struck by a bolt of rage. This bolt of rage charges him up the steel meshing. Whitey and Soul's eyes meet in flaring fury, and their vulgar mouthes exchange insults as they prepare to exchange punches. Once they both reach the zenith of the structure they unleash a calvary of destructive strikes. With every landing blow their heads bob backwards, and their bodies inch dangerously close to a grizzly plummet. The crowd sits on the edge of their seats, in awe of the high octane slug fest. COLE These two are insane! Get down from there! All of a sudden the brawl is impeded, and Whitey appears to be moving further and further away from the cage. His dismayed eyes, along with the camera, pan downwards to see that he's been elevated onto the buff shoulders of Rico. While Vinny struggles to be free of this unwanted roost, Lucius makes his way onto the top of cage. Though the fans, and even his partner, appear to be in total shock at his death defying actions, Soul is a pillar of smooth calm. With one flick of his fro, the pimp sails from his post, with arm extended into a clothesline! COLE Oh my! Santana knew the move was coming, and braces himself tightly, but that does nothing to prevent the awful pain that comes from Soul's amazing lariat! All three fighters thud into the canvas, but it's only Santana with grunts of anguish. “HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!” The Wrecking Crew exchange exuberant high fives, acting as though that single move was enough to earn them the tag titles. They're quickly shown they have a long road to travel, when a fist swinging One Eye accosts them. Wallace holds his own against the HI-YAH champions, using his sheer power to run them ragged about the ring. Eventually, the Casanovas are able to use their numbers advantage to emerge from the sea of punches, where they paste him with elbow shots. The blows push One-Eye into the ropes, but it's not a position he holds for very long, as they whip him towards the opposite end of the ring. When he rebounds, their heads are lowered in order to impale his midsection. However, the thug counters these efforts by sending his Timbaland boot into Soul's chest. Hearing his partner crash into the canvas, causes Rico to shoot himself upright in alarm. But he fails to stage a suitable defense and is bulldozed with a lariat for his folly! “MARDI GRAS SUCKS! MARDI GRAS SUCKS!” the audience bleats. Just as soon as De Janeiro is felled, does Soul rise to his feet, continuing the war against the Militia member. Moving with ungodly speed, Soul strikes fast, lifting Wallace onto his shoulders in a standing fireman's carry. Before Wallace can even begin to fight free, “Sweet” flings him forward for the lethal Fro 2 Sleep! But in an uncharacteristic show of agility, Wallace manages to coil his arm around Soul's neck, and punish the youngster with a DDT! The staunchly anti-Mardi Gras fans greet the reversal with a round of applause. Any kindness given to the SCM by the fans is suddenly transferred to Krista Isadora Duncan, who weaves her arms around his. She puts forth a mighty bout of strength in order to twist him around, so that his helpless neck rests beneath her back. Within seconds his entire body is driven to the ground by the tremendous force of her Unprettier. The ovation from the stands is constant and huge. But there's little time for Krissy to celebrate, given that the pesky Santana has reintroduced his unwelcome presence. His head tucks beneath her arm, and his hands latch onto her rhinestone belt. He foists her up then casually impales her onto the ring cables. Though the attack isn't overly pain inducing, it's enough to have the fitness queen grimacing in discomfort. Mere moments later, Santana is struck by his own bout of discomfort as Rico begins pasting him with kicks to the gut. COLE We still have three more teams left to go, Coach. COACH Yeah, and whoever comes out last is going to have easy pickings. Santana fights back against the bevy of punches, smashing his tapped fist into Rico's nose. But the Mardi Gras' number advantage comes back into play once Soul begins firing knife edge chops into Vinny's frame. His feeble chest unable to take the punishment, Santana wilts underneath the assault, and his foes are able to easily trap into a front face lock. “SHAVE YOUR FRO! SHAVE YOUR FRO!” the fans chant to Lucius. While he demands silence from the crowd, Soul helps his comrade drag Vinny's six feet four inches into the sky. They promptly fall backwards, crushing his spine with a vertical suplex. But their damage doesn't end there; they roll through the move and punish their enemy with a second suplex! Figuring that a third time is a charm, the despised heels lift Vincent up once more. Yet instead of striking him with the pedestrian hold, they violently tilt their bodies backwards which causes Whitey's back to slam into the steel caging! As the structure wobbles unsteadily, The Wrecking Crew curse Vincent with their most powerful attack yet, a double brainbuster! COACH Woah! Even the fans can't help but be impressed by the high impact hold, and applaud the showing. Beneath the sound of their claps comes Billy Silverman counting Soul's pinfall. ONE TWO THREE! NO! SANTANA KICKS OUT COLE Folks, I'd hate to do this, but we will be back with more HD after this! COMMERICAL BREAK The mainevent returns in the middle of a fiery brawl between the Wrecking Crew and The Militia. Santana bounds off the ropes with full intention of decapitating Soul with a monstrous lariat. However his charge is clumsy and unwieldy, and thus “Sweet” is able to turn his momentum against him with a back body drop! Instead of splattering onto the beige canvas, Santana awkwardly lands within the arms of a waiting De Janiero. Those muscular pythons then thrust Whitey downwards with a powerbomb that rocks the ring! Soul leaps into the air, pumping his fist in wild celebration, as his ally attempts a pin... ONE TWO But Wallace breaks up the fall! Instantly The Wrecking Crew swarms upon the intrusive gangbanger, bruising and welting his chocolate skin with forearm smashes. COLE I'll tell you this right now, The Wrecking Crew is performing out of this world! FUCK DA WRECKING CREW. LA COUNTY MOTHERFUCKING REPRESENT! Wallace's fellow Californians, Alix and Krista, lend him a hand in dealing with the dominant HI-YAH champions. They peel Soul away from his victim, and launch him into the cables. As he nears them, their flashy footwear brings them into the skies, where their lovely legs batter the pimp with double spinning wheel kicks! “YEAAAAAA!” With his partner noticeably absent, Rico is far less equipped to deal with the enraged the brute, and actually tries to make a play for the entrance door! But Wallace affords him no chance to escape and tugs onto the seat of the pants to keep him ring bound. Wallace's escape prevention has an unfortunate (fortunate?) side effect of granting the camera a shot of Rico's hairy ass crack. COLE YES! COACH WHY? Fortunately, Wallace releases his hold on the tights so that they may return to covering the Brazilian's jungle of love. Unfortunately for Rico, Wallace promptly floors him with a polish hammer! A few inches down the ring, Soul fares no better then his co-champion, left flat on his back and under a shroud of anguish. Above him Alix tosses a cute kiss towards her girlfriend. Krissy catches it on her hand, then delicately places it on her cheek, before her bubblegum pink lips return the sweet gesture. Alix snatches the kiss into her left hand, but instead of gently attaching it to her cheek, the receiving hand darts downward, palm smacking the playa dead in the face! “C-O-D! C-O-D! C-O-D!” Soul's situation soon degenerates from bad to irreparably awful, when America's sweethearts each take hold of a khaki pants leg. Their lips meet for a quick but loving kiss, that generates quite the buzz from the stands. Once their innocent show of affection is complete, their less then innocent move begins. They dip backwards, bringing a squealing Soul off the apron, and hurtling him through the air with a slingshot. His body blasts against the cage, and the steel wiring cuts brutally through his skin, decorating it with red blood marks. Suffering lines his face and he can barely stay conscious as gravity pulls him back towards the ring. But he's shocked wide awake by a spark of pain when the SoCal babes nail him a double lung blower! The fans are ecstatic with COD's display of dominance and bath them with cheers. “Westside ballas, babay, strictly pimpin!” Alix shouts, mocking Soul's playa persona. COLE Now the OAOAST champions are starting to find their groove! Elsewhere, the other half of the HI-YAH champions is starting to find that the South Central Militia are a remorselessly impossible set of opponents. Their hands snake around his neck suffocating his appeals for peace into thin gargles for mercy. “Yo, what time is it, Whitey?” Wallace asks through platinum grills. “I think it's time to put this cokehead faggot in a body bag!” “God damn right it is!” Wisely realizing that the SCM's deathly double team finisher is on the horizon, the South American produces a fantastic effort to be free of their clutches. He bucks and thrashes against their death grip, but meets with little success. Thusly he resorts to a cheap shot and sends his boots into each of their testicles. As the crowd reacts with great negativity to his actions, Rico further debilitates his rivals by slamming their faces into the turnbuckles. The once fearsome brutes are now reduced to grousing and moaning wrecks. However, their weakened state fails to convince Rico to stay within the confines of the cages, and the HI-YAH champion decides to take his long since aborted vacation. Leaving his partner to fend for himself. De Janeiro groggily stumbles through the entry door, earning a good chunk of crowd heat in the process. His strong, arrogant accent, demands that he be left alone, but his rudeness only increases their venom. That is until the countdown appears on the screen. 5 4 3 2 1 COLE We've got another one! In a world full of posers, phonies, and pure wannabees, there finally emerges a group which has come to set the record straight. so, all you suckers better recognize, ya heard can you say uhhh na na na na... “YEAAAAAAAA!” The peppy beats of O-Town's anthem brings the capacity crowd to it's feet in honor of the OAOAST legends. Through parting entrance doors emerges one of the most controversial tag teams of their day, The Global Party Xchange. Attired in unnervingly menacing black leather pants, the team that danced and bopped their way into two tag team title reigns, now marches with sinister expressions towards their third tag title reign. As they strode down the ramp, white and red spotlights wave across the venue, making the arena feel like it's been plunged into Satan's personal rave. COLE The Global Party Exchange. If you wanna talk about a team with a history in the OAOAST, these are the men to look at. Two time tag team champions, winner of the first ever Anderson Cup, and have been involved in some of the biggest, most personal fueds in OAOAST history. The accolades and cheers heaped upon the two superstars means very little to De Janeiro, who greets their arrival with nothing short of bitterest disdain. Snarling like a lunatic madman he goes to confront the pair, wielding a pair of haymaking arms. While Jackson just cruises right by him and enters the cage, the hot headed Scotty Static refuses to back down to the oiled up hard body. Punches quickly flare between them, hitting with deadly accuracy and leaving bruises upon every last point of impact. “G-P-X! G-P-X!” the audience yells. Despite the words of encouragement from the audience, Static doesn't succeed in overpowering his rival. Rather, De Janeiro wraps his hands through his unruly surfer cut and throws him into the cage! To Rico's dismay, Static shows few ill effects from the attack, and simply repays the unkindness to the Brazilian! Unlike, Double S, the South American can't stomach the anguish, and collapses to the mats with blood spilling from his nose. COLE It's going to get a little crowd inside that cage! Elsewhere, Johnny Jackson introduces himself to the proceedings by smashing his forearm into Vincent's jaw. He then hurls the stunned grappler into the aisleside ropes. Santana springs off the cables with great speed, but is caught within Jackson's waistlock, and propelled into the cage by a release German Suplex! Just as soon as his bones touch the mat, Jackson approaches him with arms outstretched. Vinny thrashes wildly against the incoming bonds, his hands clawing at Jackon's leather clad legs. Johnny pays little heed to the hysterics, and hauls Vincent off the mat. He calmly knees him in the stomach, leaving him stunned and breathless, and allowing him to put Vinny into a front waistlock. JJ then rips him off the canvas, and his lanky figure snaps into the harsh metal from the belly to belly suplex! An inhuman howl erupts from Vinny's throat, putting a smile on Jackson's face. COACH Good lawd! Leaving Vincent to wallow in his misery, Jackson moves down the ring to confront old enemy Alix Spezia. He catches the culinary sensation by surprise, pasting her with a succession of clubbing forearms. Alix withers under the pressure of the blows, and the excruciating pain yields a round of howls and shrieks. His arms snaps against her bare shoulder and a crimson welt rises from the deeply tanned skin. Soon the duties of dismantling Alix are distributed between two grapples, as Soul assists “Jam” with fierce strikes. He and Jackson wield their knees freely, dealing out painful lashes at the slightest hint of defiance. Only seconds later, One-Eye Wallace joins their efforts to rid the ring of COD's presence. Taking obvious pleasure in an opportunity to batter Alix, Wallace demands his cohorts still her wailing and crying body. Their brute strength traps her arms behind her back, and her eyes widen at the reality of her horrible fate. Deep throated screams spill from her throat the second Wallace's boot slams into her face. Released from her bonds, the champion drops like a stone to the mat. “BOOOOOOO!” As enraged as the crowd is Krista's anger burns with much more fire and intensity, and she instantly seeks retribution for her brutalized lover. The silver spikes of her heels tear through Jackson's gut, as her elbow plunges deep into his jaw. Alarmed by Krista's flurry, Soul looks to subdue her with a lariat. But she sweeps bellow his arm, spinning behind him to clasp her hands around his chin. The fans explode with cheers for her soon to come signature move! Their cheers expand enormously when she strikes “Sweet” with the Elizabeth, I'm coming to join ya, honey! It's the big one! (reverse X-factor)! A heartbeat later, the golden haired beauty is back on her feet, eyes locked onto Jackson. Like Soul, Johnny's weapon of choice is a lariat. And like Soul Johnny is dealt a crushing blow by the Elizabeth, I'm coming to join ya, honey! It's the big one!! "KRISTA! KRISTA! KRISTA!" Not having learned the lessons of his fallen foes, the stubborn One-Eye makes his own lariat bid, and gets easily wiped out by the Elizabeth, I'm coming to join ya, honey! It's the big one!]! Now it's Santana's turn to try his hand at the surging fitness model. Unlike his foolish predecessor, Vincent employs a yakuza kick to floor Krista. But the results remain the same; a Elizabeth, I'm coming to join ya, honey! It's the big one!! The fans cheers threaten to level the ring to it's very foundation, as the OAOAST champion makes a pivotal cover on Santana. CROWD ONE CROWD TWO CROWD THREE!! COLE The Militia is finished, Coach! They're done! BUFFER Ladies and gentlemen, The South Central Militia have been eliminated! The dumbstruck Wallace freezes in shock, unable to tell if this is all part of some horrific nightmare. While referee Earl Hebner tries to convince him that he's very much awake, the remaining teams continue the fight without second thoughts to the departed Militia. Crazed blue eyes glow with feral rage, as Krista bares her fangs at the slowly rising Jackson. An icy smile lifts the corner of her pink lips when she flashes forward with her spear. Both competitors crash to the canvas, but it's the grousing Jackson who takes the brunt of the harsh impact. Fortunately for the Jammer, his partner grants him a moment of respite by shucking Krista away from him. The frenzied high flyer falls upon his rival, tearing at her with manic punches. She manages to fight her to her feet past the wave of fists, but can do no more then that before Static locks her down into a back suplex position. She's drug into the air in preparation for deadly back drop driver, but at the height of the move the foxy mommy flips free of his hold and lands perfectly on her feet. And trust me landing on high heels ain't exactly easy. Before Static can even register that Krissy is no longer on his shoulders, her arms tighten around his neck in a side headlock. Dragging his hissing carcass along with her, Miss California darts to the ropes. Her shoes springboard off the cables, and her headlock takes care of the rest, savaging Static's face with a the springboard bulldog! As the crowd applauds her continued efforts, Hebner counts her latest pinfall.... CROWD ONE CROWD TWO But Jackson breaks up the pin with a harsh stomp towards Krista's head. Taking the woman by her lush locks, Jackson pulls her upright. The ill-mannered hellcat stages and admirable rebellion against his clutches, but he easily snuffs out her fire with a european uppercut. With his enemy temporally calmed, the party boy foists her high into the sky in an exploder suplex position. He twirls around, showcasing his prey to the now outraged audience, increasing their rage with each one of his contemptuous smirks. Finally he rifles her overhead, launching the fan favorite into the cage with his dangerous suplex! Krista sinks downward, shoes clanking against the metal, cries bringing tears to the eyes of the younger fans faces. “LET'S GO KRISTA! LET'S GO KRISTA! LET'S GO KRISTA!” COLE Johnny Jackson and Scotty Static have just zeroed on the tag title tonight, no nerves, no anxiety, just killer precision from these two. In spite of the immense anguish she feels, Krista tries to use the ropes to drag her self up, as she feels Jackson and Static draw near. There's little time for her to effort a suitable defense before Jackson's boots leave their mark on her exposed left thigh. Krissy grimaces in pain that only grows worse when Static's kick strikes her in the same location. Krista falls down to her knees, the pain preventing her from even standing up to look her assailants in the eyes. Sniffing blood in the water, the men smile to each other, as they prepare to bring COD's time in the match to a close. Static positions himself behind Krista as though he were attempting a backdrop suplex, but he varies the typical hold by awkwardly bending her left leg. The unnatural position her leg is put in causes her to squeal moans of torment. But these noises are ignored by Static as he lifts her into a shin breaker position. Instead of simply dropping her onto his knee, the 313 homeboy glides her to the ropes, and drops her shin first atop the cables! With the sorrowing lady tangled between ropes with no means of escape, Jackson zeros in on her. Once he nears her, he takes to the skies with a dropkick and flattens her head between his shoes and the cage! Krista crumbles away from the ropes, her head throbbing unmercifully from the impact, unable to hear the crowd urging her to continue the fight. COACH Ain't nobody using the cage better as a weapon then GPX. You got this block of steel all around you, might as well make use of it. COLE Yes but-- Before Cole can even finish his thought the countdown reappears on the screen. 5 4 3 2 1 COLE Now who do we have? Booming through the speakers is Biohazard's Punishmentand the crowd bursts with glee for the arrival of hometown boy, Charlie Moss. But their glee devolves into wrathful hatred when Moss emerges wearing a baseball jersey. Surely that's innocent enough, you say. Not if the baseball jersey belongs to the Detroit Tigers! Benjamin dumps an entire gallon of fuel to fire by showing up in a Yankees jersey. Why, Patty what could be wrong with that? Well, it's a Johan Santana Yankees jersey, alluding to the fact the Twins will probably have to trade to NY at the end of the season. So while our sports comedians and WDW tag team champions journey down the ramp, they're assaulted with a plethora of jeers and taunts. COACH The WDW champions, Cole! My pick to win it all! COD are battered and beaten, The Wrecking Crew is tiring, and how long can GPX keep up their rapid pace. Just survive The Rockers and D*LUX and Team Heyross wins it all! If the Wrecking Crew is truly worn down as Coach says, their's little evidence of it within the ring. Soul has trapped Jackson within the corner with a barrage of knife edge chops, while Rico resumes his hellish brawl with the smaller Static within the center of the ring. The Brazilian grabs Static into a side headlock, shortly before he switches into an arm lock. Much like the headlock the arm lock doesn't stay applied for very long, as De Janiero violently snaps his foe down to the canvas. However, the sudden movement loosened Rico's grip, and it's for this reason that Static is able to spring to his feet and away from a possible submission hold. The applause of the audience inform Soul that Rico wasn't able to upend Static. Thusly he breaks away from Johnny to blast Scotty with a lariat. Unfortunately his moment away from Jackson, provided Jam with all the time he needed to recover, he captures the unaware champion with a face crusher! “G-P-X! G-P-X! G-P-X!” Suddenly the noise of the audience maximizes to it's highest point of the contest. Confused by the sharp rise of audience noise, Jackson turns his head around, finding Charlie Moss perched upon the thin platform that rests on the corner of the cage. COLE What's he doing? Answering Cole's query, and delighting the fans, Moss dismounts his perch with a swan dive headbutt directed towards Soul! Camera flashes are strewn about the stands by audience members who wish to capture the high risk attack. What they end up capturing is Moss' gruesome failure, as Soul moves out of the way! “OOOOOOH!” COLE Oh no! While the majority of people seem to be wondering if Moss is even still alive after that terrible landing, Jackson couldn't care less about his welfare, and casually rolls him into a pinning predicament. Hebner scores the fall.... ONE TWO But Moss' time in the match is prolonged just a bit longer thanks to Benjamin's top rope leg drop slicing through Jackson's neck. Without hesitation, Benjamin shoves Johnny onto his back for a pinning predicament of his own... ONE TWO But, The Jammer manages to kickout well before the three. Unsure of how Jackson escaped the fall, Benjamin lifts his head to argue with Hebner. But instead of spotting the officials wrinkled face, his vision is clogged by the faux fur covered boots of one Alix Spezia! The Hollywood Bad Girl leads Benjamin off the canvas, and attempts to toss him into the ropes. However the amateur wrestling god reverses her hold, and those adorable little boots are sent trotting into the cables. But once she reaches the ropes, she ascends to the third one and uses it as a catapult to lionsault herself towards QB. Benjamin's excellent reflexes allow him to slide bellow her incoming missile. But he doesn't move far enough, as Alix is able to trap him into an inverted facelock on her descent! In one smooth motion, she twirls both their bodies around to strike him with a roll the dice! “ALIX! ALIX! ALIX!” While the crowd continues to sing her name, Ally turns her grey eyes towards the struggling to stand Johnny Jackson, and inexplicably (very inexplicably) sings, “Rooooxanne! You don't have to put on the redlight, those days are over, you don't have to sell your body to the night. Roxane, you don't have to wear that dress tonight, walk those streets for money, you don't care if it's wrong if it's right. Roxaaaaanne, you don't have to put on the red light....” Soon the crowd joins in on her song, “ROXAAAANEEE!” “PUT ON THE RED LIGHT!” She responds back “ROXAAAANNNNE!” “PUT ON THE RED LIGHT!” “ROXXAAAAAANE!” “PUT ON THE RED LIGHT!” COLE Only in the OAOAST will an entire match stop for a song and dance number! Obviously not much of a Sting fan, Jackson swings wildly with a spin kick. But his crazed blow misses wildly, allowing Ally to slip beneath his leg and catch his jaw with a dropsault. Pain rakes his chin, but The Jammer somehow succeeds in staying upright. As such Alix's furry boots hammer his chiseled chest with a second dropkick! This latest attack sends the ATL native stumbling backwards into an axe handle smash from Rico De Janiero. Though the blow is delivered with incredible force it fails to stagger the youngster, who continues stumbling about the ring. The Hollywood hottie hits the ropes, managing to duck under a lariat from Quentin Benjamin in the process. Ally hits the other side of the ring and comes back to a reverse elbow from Jam, which she ducks with remarkable ease. On her next and final run, the twenty eight year old throws her lithe body into the air for a cross body block! Unfortunately, Jackson dives beneath her fast approaching body! But instead of crashing and burning into the canvas, she encounters a fate far worse, that of being caught within the arms of Rico. The foreigner's coarse hands take a moment to explore the tantalizing body that places perverse grin onto his face. “RICO SUCKS! RICO SUCKS!” chant the fans, enraged by his groping of their heroine. From out of no where, Krista flies in to distract the despicable grappler from her girlfriend. Alix's heart shatters as his raised effortlessly boot impales Krissy's skull. Krista pitches backwards, as his foot slides away from her, losing control of her body and crash landing next to Moss. Giving Krista no further attention, as though he just stepped on an ant, Rico swings Alix around and bashes her stomach across his knee. Her ribs already damaged from earlier, Alix feels a new jolt of pain rip across her torso. Pleased with the damage he's caused, the Brazilian efforts a pinfall that's scored by Silverman. ONE TWO Much to audience's grand joy, Alix pulls her shoulder off the canvas! COACH Alix and Krista are on borrowed time now! Indeed they are, and Alix struggles upright to try to turn the tides of fate towards her team's favor. As she angles around, her tear streaked eyes spot Lucius Soul fast approaching. She swings around just in time to smash her elbow full force into his skull. But even as Soul falls, does the unbearably sharp arms of Charlie Moss cut into her throat with a sleeper hold, and all at once she can't breathe. “LET'S GO ALIX! LET'S GO ALIX!” She gasps and slams her right elbow back into her attacker's gut and catches bone, not the soft solar plexus she had been going for. She draws her elbow forward again, and feels Moss shift position slightly, anticipating the blow. Hope fading by the second, Alix shifts her own weight, intending on trying to slip free of the hold. But as she turns her weakened knees buckle, and escape seems more impossible then ever. She moans and wails under the strength of his submission, and looks dangerously close to slipping into an unconscious abyss. Charlie rudely comments, “You're dead now, bi...” DIAMOND CUTTER BY ALIX! Ally's brilliant escape attempt generates a rocking ovation from the stands, but draws the obvious ire of Benjamin. His red boots slam repeatedly into her bare back, sending ripples of pain through every inch of her body. She cries underneath the ceaseless assault, begging for Krista to come to her aid. Suddenly the torrent of stomps comes to a close, but it's not due to any intervention from Krista. Rather it's due to Benjamin nonchalantly grabbing the plucky lass by her ankles. His grip is stronger then a bear trap, and despite her frenzied efforts to break free, she remains his unwilling prisoner. Free to do as he wishes with her, he flips her onto her back, grabs hold of both her bare legs, then rockets her high into the sky as if she weighed as much as a small poodle. His unorthodox attack causes her to endure a brutal head first landing on the mat that instantly sends the fans and the fallen Krista into a state of worry for their beloved Alix. QB, however, is unrelenting in his assault, dropping down to his knees and blasting away with huge amounts of firepower in the form of closed fists. “LET'S GO ALIX! LET'S GO ALIX!” Elsewhere, Johnny Jackson foists Soul onto position for a powerbomb. But the move doesn't seem to be forthcoming, as Jackson is required to wait for Static to scale the cage to it's highest peak. Despite the incredible strain his muscles undergo from keeping Soul elevated, the wait appears to be worth it as he hears the crowd roar their approval. Finally both he and the fans are treated to magnificent stunt, as Static dismounts the cage! Tumbling through the air, he swings his arms forward, trapping his hands around Soul's neck as he sails past the grappler. “Sweet” is ripped from his nest on Jackson's shoulders and driven downwards with a blockbuster! Well above his distressed groans sit the huge cheer of the fans, and the arrogant boasting of the two time tag team champions. “G-P-X! G-P-X! G-P-X!” COLE Did you see that? Did you see that? COACH I saw it! Saying it twice isn't going to change that fact, you dumbass. GPX's victory bash is painfully short lived, as Soul's partner gains a measure of revenge by steamrolling Static with a running high knee. Just seconds after Scotty topples to the canvas, does Rico direct his mammoth rage towards Jackson. He slams a round of closed fists into the cruiserweight's face, weakening him enough to Irish whip him across the ring. When Jackson makes his return he finds his adversaries have maddeningly multiplied, as Charlie Moss stands at Rico's side. The pairing catch JJ with a double hip toss, but refuse to let him sink to the mat, instead forcing him to fall into their free arms. Without a word passed between them, the two champions fling Jackson skywards. Unable to see what's happening beneath him, he hollers in horror, as he feels one hand tighten around his neck, and another tie around his ankles. With no way of protecting himself, he's brutally victimized by the double team that spikes him into the canvas! COLE Oh! Pleased with his efforts, Rico begins to massage his now legendary porn stache. Unfortunately the porn stache is nearly kicked off his face by a thunderous superkick from Charlie Moss! Rico collapses to the mat in a convulsing heap, totally unaware of who or what just hit him. Smirking to himself, Moss makes a pin... ONE TWO But the buff muscle stud kicks out, pleasing absolutely no one who isn't named Lucius Soul. Yet, the pinfall is quick to be forgotten thanks to the appearance of the highly anticipated countdown clock.... 5 4 3 2 1 HEY WAIT I GOT A NEW COMPLAINT! Kurt Cobain's ode to Courtney Love pumps into the Minnesota night, eliciting an enormous wave of jeers. Not a single soul is pleased to bear witness to the despised tag team known as the Heavenly Rockers. As the entrance doors part, the hatred the world feels for them is not lost on The Rockers. Clad in matching leather pants with golden angel wings on the back, and matching golden tank tops, the Sin City duo greets their less then adoring fanbase with a pair of one finger salutes. Logan then triumphantly beats his fist against his beefy chest, while Synth flexes his thin muscles in pure arrogance. COLE Former tag team champions, The Heavenly Rockers. We have had former pimps and drug dealers in this match, and I'd still rather see them hold the title before The Rockers. What totally classless fiends these two are. I hate seeing them out here, and the fans hate seeing them out here. In my opinion, and I'm sure this is shared by many of the fans, the Lonestar Gunslingers should be competing... COACH Don't make the mistake of finishing that thought. Aside from one fluke victory over Black T, what have The Gunslingers actually done besides get a hot manager? Nothing. The musical duo journeys down the ramp, Synth bopping his head to the acidic guitars, and Logan running his fingers through his permed black hair. The fans look on in total disdain, wishing that some decent soul would erase the hated heels from existence. Their prayers are answered. Two muscular young men, clad in mink fur coats, and paint splashed jeans, dive over guardrail. Curly brown hair flows behind them, as they evade security to make their way to an oblivious Rocker pair. COACH What the? Suddenly a gigantic cheer speeds through the arena, as these men are instantly recognized as The Sk8r Boiz! COLE Oh my god! Oh my god! The Boiz are back in town! The massive screams of the audience lead Logan and Synth to turn their head in confusion. But by the time they're aware of what's going down, Marvin and Melvin are flooring them with double lariats! While the crowd chants the Nerdly boys name, Logan quickly struggles towards his feet, Stricken with panic, he tries his damnedest to get to the safety of the cage. No such luck. Melvin latches onto his wispy hair, leading the superstar to scream in fear. His fears are well founded, as Melvin throws him stomach first into the steel barricades. With a look of pure hatred gripping his face, The Canadian marches towards Logan and batters him with a parade of stomps. COACH Somebody stop this! Synth would love to try and follow Coach's orders, but there's the tiny problem of Marvin belly to belly suplexing him back up the ramp. Synth's heavily tatooed figure crashes violently against the steel staging, delighting the sold out audience. They're even more pleased when Marvin storms forward to drive the point of his boot into his stomach. "SKATE OR DIE! SKATE OR DIE! SKATE OR DIE!" Logan struggles towards the top of the ramp. His intention isn't to aid his fallen partner, however. He simply wishes to escape the unholy beating being laid upon him by Melvin. He can scarcely inch past Synth, before the well defined arms of Marvin begin terrorizing his back. Soon, Melvin joins in the crowd pleasing assault, and the Boiz manage to beat Logan backstage. Poor Synth is left on the floor, writhing in agony, unsure of what on earth just happened. COLE The Boiz are back in town, Coach! The Boiz are back in town! You don't mess with the Nerdly family and get away from it. That was for Melody! COACH This isn't right, Cole! No! No! The Rockers just got eliminated without even getting near the ring! What kind of crap is this? What kind of establishment is being ran here when the midcard tag teams can assault the superstar tag teams like that? "SKATE OR DIE! SKATE OR DIE! SKATE OR DIE!" COLE Well, the fans don't have a problem with it, and neither do I! Back in the ring (yes, there's still match going on), Soul focuses himself on the duty of furnishing Krista's downfall. Taking hold of her trembling wrist, he leads her to her feet, then slings her into the cables. The ropes return her into a punch from Benjamin that shears her skull and rips her from her feet. She yells in rage and pain, thrusting a smile of intense gratification onto the duo's face. Affording her no time to recover from her wounds, Soul peels the champion from the canvas. His hand flicks out in a knife edge chop, tearing apart the fabric of her scanty criss cross halter top. He cocks his arm to deliver another flesh searing strike, but his offense is grounded to an abrupt halt when a chop explodes across his pecs. Eight more chops terrorize the now bloody flesh of each brawler, giving life to a rousing ovation from the audience. More motivated to protect their shredded flesh then effort any sort of attack, Benjamin and Soul dispatch their rival to the ropes. This tactic grants them a three second reprieve from her onslaught, but when the gorgeous gal returns she reintroduces them to a world of hurt, pummeling him with a double high flipping lariats! All three warriors sink to the canvas, rippling the ring with their extraordinary impact. LET'S GO KRISTA! LET'S GO KRISTA! Despite being the aggressor, Krista's mounting injuries and misery make standing up an arduous effort. As her frail bones slog their way past the pain to stand upright, Jam sneaks behind her. When she stands fully erect, the ex champion springs forward, intending on flattening her with knee lift. But thanks to a quick glance towards the outfield scoreboard, Krista eyes the fast approaching warrior and slips out of the way! Unable to put the breaks on in time, Jackon's knees collide with Benjamin and Soul, sending the pair hurtling through the ropes and into the cage! All three gladiators land with a harsh thud, a wonderful sound to the millions of COD fans world wide. A wonderful sight for these fans would be Krista pinning of the three defeated opponents. But their beloved heroine can scarcely take a breath without feeling as though she's been shot COLE I think you're right, Coach, I think the curtain is finally closing on COD's eight month tag title reign. Several inches to her left, Rico and Scotty Static have snagged Alix into a back suplex position. As they tighten their hands around her white shorts, Rico plants a loathsome kiss onto her cheek. The horrid gesture the pulls a sob of despair from her quivering lips, and boos from the hateful audience. The jeers from the stands grow even louder once the pairing complete their double team, and punish their victim with a backdrop driver. Alix flops onto her stomach, where her sweat drenched brown hair spills in front of her, and tears puddle on the mat beneath her. Hearing Alix's sobbing unleashes a beast within in the bone weary Krista, and she strides towards the makeshift gang to rip their flesh to shreds. Unfortunately her ill health means she's poorly equipped to handle the much larger grapplers, and Static casually tosses her aside with an elbow into the gut. Rico watches in amusement as her body scissors in half, then topples to the ground. Amid the hate tinged noise of the crowd, he attempts a pin. ONE TWO But Krista kicks out, bringing the fans to their feet with cheers and applause! COLE Folks, we have to take a commercial break! We'll be back with more after this! COMMERICAL BREAK As we return to live action The Countdown is already underway. 5 4 COLE Almost time for D*LUX! 3 2 1 Right after the final count leaves the lips of the audience, Makes Me Wonder enters the arena to a raucous pop from a now standing crowd. Unlike the teams that have proceeded them, the boybanding duo waste no team with theatrical showmanship, instead charging down towards the ring to seek their glory. COLE Three time HI-YAH tag champions on their way to the fray. Their success has been limited since Jade Rodez left them, but here they have a chance to achieve triumph on all their own. Forget about triumph, D*LUX is having difficulty even achieving entrance into the cage! This is due entirely to the fact that the second they open the doors, the boots of Jackson and Static smash them to the outside mats. Watching the D*LUX duo squeak and squawk in a mixture of confusion in torment has the Party Exchange crowing with laughter. The audience is split between males for GPX and girls for D*LUX, and thus their voices mingle into a noisy, garbled mess. Beneath that mess, are the shouts of Hebner and Silverman, demanding that GPX refrain from such actions. But because there's no actual rule against what they did, Static just tells the officials to shut up and get lost. Brimming with anger, Brave throws himself onto the ring apron. But the second his shoes reach the surface he's struck by a Johnny Jackson lariat that propels him through the arena air. The crash landing leaves him stunned and breathless, and his chest stings from small cuts and abrasions. COLE Well, that's not right at all. D*LUX deserves their chance to get into the match! Figuring that D*LUX has been tempered for the moment, GPX turns their attention towards their more immediate rivals. Chiefly, OAOAST Tag Team Champions Chicks Over Dicks. Eyes flickering with predatory hunger, the party animals impatiently wait for the distressed Krista to step to her feet. When she rises fully upright, her wobbly body is trapped within the confines of Static's front facelock. Without the energy to mount a suitable defense, she's helpless to prevent her smooth legs from being elevated onto Jackson's shoulders. The duo then swing her limp body over, dropping her back first onto the unforgiving canvas! A stabbing pain in her right side causes her to hiss in agony. Blinking the sweat from her eyes, she sees Static lie on top of her for a pin... ONE TWO Mere seconds before Silverman can reach a three count, Krista kicks out! The audience is stunned with delight, certain that they had just witnessed the ending moments of COD's title reign. GPX is stunned as well, but its certainly not with delight. However they're forced to maintain their cool, and retry their attempt to eliminate Krista. Again she's brought upright, where her listless arms are snapped with a double arm wrench. She barely has enough strength to wail in pain, and can only emit low groans of defeat as they, latch onto her legs and lift her into the air. As her now messy blond hair dribbles in front of her, the GPX fling her backwards, causing her to land between the second and third ropes. Her back collides gruesomely with the steel meshing, and for a split second she's able to fianlly wail in pain, before her sluggish corpse drips to the canvas. Assured that Krista has gasped her last breath, Jackson goes for a pivotal fall... ONE TWO D*LUX breaks up the fall! “YEAAAAAA!” COACH I always thought people from Detroit were stupid, but never that stupid! COLE D*LUX is doing it for Krista! COACH Congratulations, boys, you're in love with a lesbian. Being that this is an every person for themselves match, GPX can't fathom why D*LUX would want to rescue a team on the brink of elimination. However they don't wait for words of explanation before they begin trading blows with the vexing teenyboppers! In spite of the size disadvantage, Shayne and Tyler are both able to overpower their rivals. Brave takes hold of Johnny's heavily gelled hair, while Bryant digs his fingers through Static's unrully strands. The teen screams then head to opposite ends of the cage and hurl their victims face first into the wall! Warm blood streams from cuts on their forehead, and they stagger backwards through a dizzy fog. Jackson has the good sense to timber over, which immediately erases him from the minds of Shayne and Tyler. That leaves Static to suffer the entirety of their anger. They shoot him into the ropes, and smash their white tennis shoes into his stomach upon his return. The shot knocks him out on his feet, and he's soon knocked clear off them by a double dropkick from the duo! COLE D*LUX is on fire! COACH And for what? So they get their lesbian crush pin them after they've eliminated everyone for her? Elsewhere Moss and Soul wage war in the corner. Soul gains the upper hand with a rake of Moss's onyx eyes. Capitalizing on the advantage the cheap shot granted him, Soul speedily hustles Moss onto his shoulders in preparation for the Fro 2 Sleep! But Moss is saved from the lethal finisher when Benjamin grabs onto his boots and pulls him back down to the mat. Team Heyross then uses their numbers advantage to the turn the tables on Soul, flooring him with a double lariat! Their arms explode onto his chest, unleashing a blast of sweat from the darkened skin. Eyes wide with furor, the WDW champions hook his legs around their necks as though they were about to attempt a stretch muffler. However their planned move proves be far more ghastly then a simple submission hold. They twist him into the air, holding him upside down so that all the blood rushes to his afroed head. Once they witness his face turn several shades of blue, they execute their master plan. They flip “Sweet” backwards, releasing him at the height of their move. Soul screams out in terror before his mouth is muffled by the jagged steel of the cage. He peels off like wrapping paper, crashing to the mat where bruises jut from his bleeding body. With Soul in dire need of medical attention, Heyross' boys turn their attention to crushing his partner's title hopes. Problematically, the lady killer isn't quite as easy to manhandle as Soul and batters the men as though they were common house flies. Moss falls into the ropes, his breath fleeing his body at a rapid pace. His partner fares no better, with jabs liberally decorating his face. Finally Rico knocks Benjamin off his feet with a diving lariat! “HEYROSS SUCKS!” “WRECKING CREW SUCKS! “HEYROSS SUCKS!” “WRECKING CREW SUCKS” COLE These fans having a tough time deciding who they hate more! Positioned next to his wounded enemy, Rico meets with little trouble in locking his rival down with his famous Rico Vice (Anaconda Vice)! COLE Could this be it Already enduring a miserable time in breathing, Benjamin has neither the will nor the way to fight free of the hold. Thankfully fortune smiles upon him, and sends his partner's stomping boots to the rescue. Unthankfully (not a word!), fortune fails to smile on Moss, and he's trapped into a full nelson from a mystery assailant. The soft baby oiled skin and heavy scent of Abercrombie perfume and cherry scented hair spray, alerts Moss that he's been accosted by Alix Maria Spezia. And that can only mean he's about to die of dysentery. She sweeps his leg out from under him and buries his face into the canas with the You have Died of Dysentery (full nelson face crusher). A pin quickly follows..... CROWD ONE CROWD TWO CROWD THREE!! "YEAAAAAA!" COLE That's it for Team Heyross! COACH No! My prediction! My pick! My eighty thousand dollar bet! All ruined! Former WDW champions, six man champions, gone so abruptly. And with them goes my money! While Coach complains about being sent to the poor house a truly disturbing sight wafts from the entry doors. A haggard African American man, expensive clothes torn to shreds, body covered in blood both dried and fresh, eyes wrought with panic and horror. He's barely recognizable as Logan Mann. Most surprisingly, his wobbly legs are carrying him towards the battleground. “BOOOOOOOOO!” shout the fans, showing no pity for his obvious plight. COLE What is he doing out here? COACH What a valiant competitor Logan Mann is. Beaten down by two of the biggest underachieving slackers known to the OAOAST, he still comes out to fight the good fight even without his partner. This one is for you, Synth! Wherever you are, this one is for you! Dragging his wounded carcass into the ring apparently. Stumbling about like the town drunk at two AM, he swings at anything that moves, real or imagined. While most of the fighters can easily avoid his sloppy attempts at offense, Tyler Bryant inadvertently stumbles into a kick that doubles him over. Mann's blood soaked face lights up at the position Bryant is stuck in. He coils his hands around the boybander's neck then dives backwards, spiking his head into the canvas with a Percussion DDT! The audience is disgusted by Logan's interference and taunts him heavily. Ignoring their insults, Logan actually attempts a pinfall. Both referees can only look on in dismayed confusion as they refuse to score Logan's pinning attempt. “Why not? I'm in the match! Fuck you! Fuck you! I'll kill you!” he rants, sending slobber and blood flying about the ring. “Yo, Logan!” a pair airy, sleek male voices scream. “Look up, dude!” “God, is that you?” “Fuck yes, little bitch!” The voices say before the camera pans up to reveal the Sk8r Boiz located atop the platforms on the corners, striking the FREAKING AWESOME Christ in Rio pose. "YEAAAAAA!" Logan's mangled blood caked face turns white with horror as the image of his new worst enemies fills his vision. Frozen in place by crippling fear, he can only scream for mercy from his predators. There will be no mercy forthcoming from the pride of the Nerdly family, and they leap from their roosts with twin shooting star presses! COLE OH MY! Logan's body is sandwiched beneath the incredible missiles and pain explodes onto every inch of his frame. But his screams are drowned out by an entire arena chanting “HOLY SHIT!” COLE Good lord, Coach! Did you see what the Boiz just did? Totally owning Logan Mann and Synth Esizer, tonight. Rockers your time is up! Cloaked in river of applause from an appreciative audience, The Boiz vacated the premises through the stands, slapping hands with their legion of fans as they exit. Back in the ring there's still the matter of Tyler Bryant still feeling the ill affects of the Percussion DDT. Ever the opportunistic one, ol Rico hooks his leg for a pinfall... ONE TWO But Krista Isadora Duncan returns an earlier favor and breaks up the pinfall! In response to the simple act of kindness, Tyler professes his undying love to his savior, and offers himself as her personal servant for eternity in gratitude. Kinda creeped out, Krista has to make an excuse to get away from her adoring fan, “Uh, I gotta go....peel some potatoes. Yeah.” Elsewhere Soul is trapped in the corner with Alix and Shayne buzzing around him like wasps. Brave stings first, slashing his knee into Soul's jaw! Moments later, Alix's faux fur covered wrist terrorizes his nose! From the corner does he stagger, white fluff dribbling from his mouth. His fur filled mouth soon tastes the canvas, as Alix takes him down with a face crusher! “RADICAL, DUDETTE! COWABUNGA!” Shayne shouts, drawing a “WTF did he just say?” look from anyone within ear shot. As the crowd chants her name, Alix ascends to the top rope. While there she tries to repay their kindness with words of Buddhist wisdom, “I embrace eternity! I am one! I am l-o-v-e, love!” And with that Buddah's favorite celebrity chef flies from the turnbuckles with a 630 splash! She lands with picture perfect impact, ripping away what little air remains in his lungs. Hebner counts the resulting pinfall... CROWD ONE CROWD TWO CROWD THREE!! "YEAAAAAA!" But wait! A baseball sliding Rico destroys both the pinfall and the crowd's enraptured mood. COLE I could've sworn that was it! Rico lifts Alix up by her teeny tiny tube top and wraps her into a butterfly lock. As she's sorely lacking the strength and energy required to fight free of the hold, Rico is able to easily lift her and slam her downwards with a tiger driver. The torment settles quickly in Ally's body and her face goes blank with lifelessness. Thusly Rico decides to attempt a crucial pinfall..... ONE TWO Alix calls upon her last ounce of strength to kickout, popping the capacity crowd in the process. After failing to get the three count, an annoyed Rico stands before his opponent has an opportunity to collect her bearings. Upon measuring Alix and zeroing in on the perfect target to hit, De Janeiro leaps into the air and extends his elbow out, slicing it through Ally's neck on his landing! Alix painfully howls into the night sky, leading the worried spectators to clap their hands in unison to rally the babyface. However, the chortling Rico is back on his feet and itching to inflict more damage to the adored girl. He backs into the ropes, and bounces off, once again jumping as he nears Alix weakened body. This time he extends his elbow out and sadistically smashes it into her forehead! COACH At some point, Cole, they ain't gonna be able to survive all this! Shayne Brave would love to come to Alix's aid, but there's just the teensy little problem of Scotty Static trying to use the cage as a cheese shredder against his face. Brave manages to put his tennis shoe onto the ropes to block his forward momentum and keep his handsome facial features in tact. Seeking to fight fire with fire, he grabs Static's sandy blond hair and attempts to ram his head through the wall. However the nimble cruiserweight manages to get his foot up and evade a grizzly disfigurement. Seconds later, Static busts through the stalemate by finally managing to hurl the youthful grappler into the cage! Brave's slender figure convulses wildly as the pain courses through it. He slowly sinks to his knees where he's ripe for the vile intentions of Scotty Static. Lucikly he's saved from SS's evil intentions by the advances of Tyler. The boybander grabs onto Static's leather legging's and lifts him into the sky with a flap jack! Unfortunately the ring ropes catch Static before the mat can, and he's left gasping for air. “LET'S GO D*LUX!” “G-P-X!” “LET'S GO D*LUX!” “G-P-X!” “DUELLING CHANTS! DUELLING CHANTS! DUELLING CHANTS!” While the crowd continues their inane prattle, Bryant works his towards the black platforms atop the cage. He moves with great haste, wishing to position himself while his rival still remains an injured husk. Sadly, his efforts are for naught, as Johnny Jackson trails his position with demonic quickness. The warriors meet atop the platform, and the surrounding audience members can scarcley contain their excitement. With each passing blow they level against each other, a mammoth cheer fills the air. Standing on the edge, in ever present danger of plummeting to his demise, a flicker of trepidation passes over Jackson's visage. He lunges forward in an attempt to switch positions with Bryant, but earns only only a cargo pants leg into the midsection for his trouble. He then curses in a horrified tone when Bryant shoves him into a standing head scissors. Tyler's hands curl through his stringy black hair, and a cloak of of uncertainty envelopes him as he observes the expansive distance between himself and the floor. COLE I don't think Tyler knows if he should go through with it! Whether he should or he shouldn't is not a decision left up to him, thanks to a low blow from Jackson! Experiencing none of the butterflies of his foe, Jackson hurriedly crooks his arm around the boy''s head, and nonchalantly dips backwards with a deathly DDT! Eighteen thousand mouthes are held agape while the competitors descend from the sky like a flaring meteor shower. COLE Oh my! COACH God! BOOOM! The horrifying impact of their bones shattering against the canvas can be heard well into the next county. The cacophonous chants of “HOLY SHIT” can be heard well into the next time zone. Unnoticed bellow the utter destruction of two human beings is Shayne cracking Static's skull with the Shaynedrop (Fall forward diamond cutter)! Brave hooks the leg for a pinfall that's scored by Hebner. Only several inches to the left, near crippled Jackson covers the body of Bryant. Unaware of Hebner's count, Silverman scores this fall... ONE! TWO! THREE? Instantly confusion abounds, and the audience is left in stunned silence, unsure of which team claimed victory. Their befuddlement certainly isn't alleviated by watching the officials raise the hand of two opposing team members. While Shayne mimics the silenced awe of the fans, Jackson is far more proactive, passionately lobbying for D*LUX's elimination. Even the brawling Wrecking Crew and COD have to slow their pace to observe the strange proceedings. COACH Yo, who got the pin? Who's staying around and who's going back to the locker room? COLE Well....I don't even know! I..I...I guess you could make a case either way. But, well, this is pretty unusual. Sensing that the crowd is about to turn very hostile, Silverman and Hebner huddle to come to some sort of agreement on the sticky situation. Jackson hovers behind them, his slight country accent breathless in it's pleading of GPX's case. COLE Having two referees out here was meant to prevent chaos and disorder, but it looks like that sure hasn't happen! After several seconds of debate the referees reach a conclusion. Hebner heads to the edge of the cage nearest Buffer, and informs the announcer of their decision. As he prepares the recite his announcement, Jackson beams with joy, assured his lobbying will bear fruit. BUFFER Ladies and gentlemen, OAOAST officials have decided that as a result of the double pinfall both The Global Party Exchange and D*LUX have been eliminated! Jackson doesn't even wait for the final syllable to be finished before his temper flares murderously. The cage door is swung nearly of it's hinges, and the red in the face brawler storms through with the force of a million bats pouring through hell. Behind him, his partner dejectedly staggers along , every bit as angry, but in any shape to show it. The heated crowd more then makes up for his inability to react, polluting the air with boos and jeers for the decision. D*LUX's departure is much more low key then the melodramatic rantings of Johnny Jackson. Shayne helps Tyler to the back after wishing Krista and Alix good luck. COACH Ain't that some bullshit? I don't give a damn about D*LUX but GPX has put in work! Two time OAOAST tag team champions, legends in the field. You give the legends the benefit of the doubt. COLE Hey, D*LUX were three time HI-YAH tag team champions! COACH What? Are you serious? That's like trying to say Chris Simon is on Wayne Gretzky's level because Simon scored sixty goals in junior hockey. That's minor league 'ish, GPX is major. It's not fair! Perhaps the only two people pleased to witness the double elimination are the HI-YAH champions, The Mardi Gras Homewrecking Crew. With D*LUX and GPX removed from contention, the lone obstacle between the Wrecking Crew and immortality is the rapidly decaying corpse of the OAOAST champions, Chicks Over Dicks. Neither man can hold back a triumphant chuckle as they observe the remains of their battered foes strewn about the warzone. As Alix's injuries are slightly less severe then Krista, she becomes the primary target, while Krista is considered a minor irritant. Holstering Alix upright, Rico draws his elbow forward and hurls it with pinpoint precession. A startled cry emerges from her throat as the harsh strike sputters into her head. “LET'S GO ALIX! LET'S GO ALIX!” Alix staggers backwards, grabbing for the ropes to steady herself for a counter attack against her aggressors. But she doesn't move quickly enough, and Rico knocks her into a corner with one enormous swipe of his hand. A defiant hatred blazes through her cobalt eyes, but the fiery emotion does nothing to stop the Wrecking Crew from snatching her into a front face lock and hurriedly placing her atop the turnbuckle. They follow her up the ropes, and without a seconds delay plunge her to the floor with a double superplex. Her body shatters in an explosion of sweat, fur, brown hair and screams. While Rico leans against the ropes, lovingly massaging his forest of chest hair, Soul attempts a pinfall... ONE TWO To the audience's amazement and delight, Alix weakly pulls her shoulder of the mat. The simple effort bludgeons her petite body, and labored breathes spray from her mouth. COACH The end is near, Cole. I can feel it in my bones. An eight month title reign is coming to an end. Now the real wrestlers get to run with the belts again. De Janeiro angrily rips Alix from the canvas. He launches his knee into her six packed stomach, and flames of pain scorch her torso. She croaks in agony, stepping backwards to try and avoid further beatings. Regrettably, she stumbles into the waiting arms of Lucius Soul. Before she can put forth her defense, he raises her overhead into a standing Fireman's carry. He steps forward to pull her thrashing figure away from the ropes and then shoots his knee into her skull with the Fro 2 Sleep. The wounded champion topples to the mat, her ruined form joining the blood and sweat of those that came before her. Soul presses his knees against her shoulder and foists his arms into the air in celebration, as Hefner counts his pin... ONE TWO But Krista shoves him away from his victim! "KRISTA! KRISTA! KRISTA!" Hurrying forward, Rico places his boot into Miss California's skull, effectively ending her moment of offense. As she trembles on the mat, Rico blasts a seemingly unending torrent of stomps into her shoulder, leaving his foot print across her glittering top. She closes her eyes and grits her teeth as his stomps land with the strength of a wrecking ball. Eventually Rico lifts her away from the canvas, and stuffs her into a standing head scissors. Infuriating an already outraged crowd even further, he seductive gyrates his hips, making sure his muscles rub down every inch of her appalled face. “Who wants a moustache ride?” He wonders, still juggling Krista's head with his thigh muscles. “BOOOOOOO!” Rico lifts Miss California into position for his Moustache Ride (Razor's Edge). However, due to the fact that both their bodies are lathered in sweat and baby oil, Krissy is fortunate enough to be able to slide down his hairy back. Despite her terrible health, she tries to put her new found freedom to good use with a springboard body splash! But Rico's powerful arms subdue her efforts, and her lithe figure is brought into the canvas with a powerslam. Her head rings, and every bone in her body vibrates like a fork. Assuming, her will and ability to fight is all but evaporated, Rico hooks the leg for a pin ONE! TWO! THREE! NO! Krista was able to kickout, and the fans are ecstatic. COLE I don't know how she's doing it, Coach. And judging by the confused look on Soul's face he doesn't know either. Rico shrugs off his own objections over the pin and rises to a vertical base. Krista is soon to follow but gets forearmed in the neck for her tardiness. Blue eyes water and breath becomes short when another torrid blow crashes into her stacked chest. She totters from side to side, unable to mount a defense against Baron's vivacious brawling assault. Feeling his rival sufficiently weakened, The Brazilian moves behind her and locks her into a back suplex set-up. He hoists her into the sky, lifting him so high you'd swear he could touch the scoreboard. However at the climax of the hold, Krista deftly slips out of it, landing perfectly on her feet. Rico, confused on what just happened, spins around only to get flung halfway across the ring with a hurricanrana! The crowd's cheers are deafening for Krista's show of life. However, her move may have done her more harm then good, as it sets Soul on the rampage. The moment she rises from the canvas, his leg lariat slashes across her face, draining all the color and life from her body. Soul makes a cover, pressing his forearm into her face to gain an advantage... ONE TWO Alix emerges to stop short the fall! "YEAAAAAA!" Annoyed by Alix's meddling, Rico zooms to the ropes, returning to level the girl with a swipe of his meaty forearm. Alix reacts as if he just had a piano dropped on his head, sagging to the mat and hollering in unbridled pain. Rico scoops Melvin up, and after delivering two punches to her stomach he throws her into the ropes. She's taken head over heels by raised knee, and endures a cringe worthy neck first landing that has several audience members in tears. Stroking his 'stache, Rico prepares to really crank up the adolescent water works, as he lifts Ally up and places her into a standing head scissors. He crosses his arms under her torso and then her up so that she hangs horizontal to the mat. With the fans steady in their stream of hatred for him, Rico kneels down and drops shoulder first onto his knee, utilizing his awful shoulder breaker! While the searing pain speeds throughout Alix's body, Rico hooks the outside leg for a pin. ONE TWO She kicks out, bringing forth cheers from the audience! However, the South American is relentless, and once again takes hold of the outside leg for a pin.... ONE TWO Once again Alix kicks out, and Rico empties a stream of Portuguese profanity in response. He dishes out a trilogy of stinging stomps to Alix's aching head, as he arrogantly returns to caressing his 'stache. Finished with his stomping, he sinks to his stomach where he's able to easily trap Alix into the Rico Vice! Alix instantly feels the horrible affects of this poisonous hold, a crippling constriction on her neck and a difficulty in breathing. Five seconds into the move, Silverman starts to inquire as to whether she wishes to submit or not. Rico's heavy accent answers for her, telling the zebra that his foe has no more will to fight. "LET'S GO ALIX! LET'S GO ALIX!" In spite of the groundswell of support for his antagonist, Rico able to quell any resistance, locking the plucky babe down in the center of the ring. Salvation seems so far away for Alix, as the entirety of his vision is engulfed by hairy body of the HI-YAH tag team champion. De Janeiro squeezes on the hold as tight as the referees' overbearing rules will allow, making an act as simple as breathing a grueling effort for the Los Angeles native. Knowing that her body can't endure much more of this torture, Alix takes up the arduous task of rising to his feet. Despite Rico's unheard of strength, she's amazingly able to stand, renewing hope within her and the audience. Sensing that his hold is rapidly deteriorating, Rico switches to a basic front facelock, using it to trap and wrench Alix's shoulder. This difficulty in her fight for freedom expands beyond belief, as she's now forced to fight back as a one armed woman. Desperation and worry lining her face, Alix tries to counter with a hip toss. But Rico stands frim, and effortlessly brings Alix back down to his level. He decides he's through with wasting his time with a submission hold, and would rather destroy her with his finisher The Mustache Ride. He roughly jerks her into the air, but at the very height of the move the agile lady shifts her body free and lands behind her foe! COLE Alix escaped the Mustache Ride! Enraged, Soul whirls around to decapitate Alix with a stiff spin kick. But The Hollywood Bad Girl is one step ahead of him, smashing his face with a crowd popping dropsault! As Soul topples over the culinary sensation speeds to the cables. Upon bouncing back she tries to scissor her silken legs around Rico's waist. While she encounters success in that attempt, Rico earns control of the exchange by gripping onto her legs and flipping her out into a waistlock. He then tries his damnedest to launch Alix into the stratosphere with a German Suplex! However the Rosie O'Donnell's favorite sports entertainer beautifully back flips her way out of disaster! Rico can hardly believe the resiliency of the champion and is beside himself with disgust. Guided by his anger and impatience, he blindly charges Alix only to eat a Burning Sensation When You Urinate (sunset flip piledriver)! "YAAAAAA!" The exhausted girl clamps down on Rico for what she prays will be the final pinfall of the contest. CROWD ONE! CROWD TWO! CROWD THREE! NO! Soul breaks up the pinfall, and the fans are beyond livid. Paying little mind to the pool of anger that swirls around him, Soul angrily tears Alix away from his injured partner, and hauls her onto his shoulders fro the Fro 2 Sleep COACH This is it! But Krista's powerful legs carry her forward, and with feral blue eyes blazing, she rips through Soul's unprotected midsection with a spear! The gladiators smash downwards, landing into a twisted jumble of exhausted bodies. But within the jumble is a pinning situation, as both Alix and Krista lie atop Soul. Silverman counts the ensuing fall, and a standing arena counts along with him..... CROWD ONE! CROWD TWO! CROWD THREE! The audience's cheers for the historic three count go beyond deafening, reaching points perhaps never before heard in n OAOAST ring. “C-O-D” chants are the order of the day, although it's questionable it their intended targets can even hear them. The sullen Wrecking Crew departs the cage, beltless and heartbroken for the first time since April. COLE Three titles have been united under one banner, and that banner is being carried by Chicks Over Dicks! What a historic match we've seen tonight. What great efforts by all six teams, and what an achievement by Alix and Krista. Hardly even aware of that achievement, the girls are much too exhausted to put on any sort of victory celebration. The most their able to achieve is a tender kiss on the lips, before their ragged bodies cede totally to fatigue. The steel structure that holds the victorious lovers raises towards the ceiling, and it's places comes a torrential downpour of pink and red confetti. The gorgeous celebration simply increases the joyful roar of the crowd who excitedly sing the names of the two champions. BUFFER Ladies and gentlemen, your winner and first ever.... "You break the laws You hustle, you deal, you steal from us all Come on come on, lovin' for the money Come on come on, listen to the Money talk Come on come on, lovin' for the money Come on come on, listen to the Money talk Money talks" COLE What the hell? The unwelcome noise tailspins the crowd's mood into one of infuriation and the atmosphere turns markedly hostile. Trash and debris litter the entry way, once the doors part to reveal Theodore Moneymaker, Christian Wright, and a Siclopse toting Molly Nerdly. Clad in matching pinstriped business suits, Wright and Moneymaker sport grins of devious intent. As the three saunter down the entry ramp, Moneymaker holds a microphone in front of his lips, while Molly records the conversation for posterities sake. COLE Something tells me these guys aren't here to offer their congratulations. YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! MONEYMAKER “Your winner and first ever One and Only World Tag Team Chamipons, Chicks Over Dicks.” How I hate those words, as I hate hell, all lesbians. You see for the better part of the year I have poured a limitless amount of cash into schemes designed to get the tag titles away from Chicks Over Dicks, and burn these lesbian witches at the stake. Yet every one of my efforts ended the same. An escape by the dyke demon, and it's stranglehold on the OAOAST and America, growing larger then ever before. I, a billion dollar heir, come from a family of unlimited financial resources. But that does not deem me stupid or careless with my money. At some point I enjoy seeing a return on my investment. That is these lesbians choking on a river of blood, strapped to a stretcher, wheeled towards the nearest hospital, and their subsequent death pronounced to the rejoicing of millions of right thinking Americans nationwide. But thus far returns on my investment have been scarce. That ends tonight. Because tonight I take the reigns of history into my own hands! Tonight, myself, and Mister Wright, are the eighth team entered into this scramble cage match! Tonight, Mister Wright and I will become the first ever One and Only World Tag Team Champions! Tonight Mister Wright and I curse homosexuality to its grave! COLE No! “BOOOOOO!” Accompanied by the hatred of an entire arena, Wright and Moneymaker strut down the ramp with camera toting Molly filming the entire escapade. COLE This can not be! They...they...they...can not do this. COACH Yes! And why not? Finally, the titles are out of the hands of these scandalous performers, and into the hands of the gods, Mister Moneymaker, and Mister Wright. As Moneymaker gruffly demands a shocked Silverman into the confetti drenched ring, Wright stands above the defiled pairing, orating their demise. WRIGHT Such women are not fit to bear the prestige of championships. Weep for them, for they are lost! Observe well. Watch and mark you the suffering of those who must rule, yet lack the power. Their lives are forfeit, and their championships with them. The OAOAST will again know morality. For good and for all, we shall bring their futile attempts at sexual rebellion to an end. Like bullets dancing through the skies in a dog fight, bolts of debris criss cross the area surrounding Wright, mixing with the confetti to make the ring look like an overflowing landfill. But through the hellstorm of anger and garbage, stands Wright, a bastion of impeccable cool, as he places his boot onto Krista's chest. Unable to refuse Moneymaker's orders, a despondent Silverman scores the fall, as Molly zooms on Krissy's unmoving face. ONE COLE Somebody has to do something! TWO COLE No! THREE! The bell is rung upon Moneymaker's vehement orders. Past the stunned abhorrence of the audience, the billion dollar heir slides into the squared circle. His rugged facial features light up with the sparkle of diamonds, and tears of pride well in his eyes. Finally his summer long quest has come to a glorious end, and the joyful expression that marks his triumph will live forever in the footage of the Siclopse. Wright stands atop the third rope as proud and as arrogant ever, delighted to know he'll leave Minnesota with OAOAST gold in his possession. With great reluctance, Buffer rises to make the unwelcome announcement. BUFFER The winners of this match and first ever One and Only World Tag team Champions....THE ENTERPRISE! COLE I can't believe it. They weren't even entered into this match! They aren't even dressed to fight! And now they're tag team champions. Picking off Chicks Over Dicks like vultures. Like damn vultures. Exorbitant titles wrapped around the waist of detested villains. Molly beaming as she raises their hands into the sky. A crowd thrust into the pits of despair. Fallen heroines clueless and unconscious in the background. These are the final images before we fade out. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Patty O'Green 0 Report post Posted January 4, 2008 ENTERTAINING SEGMENT OF THE YEAR-HeldDOWN 3/1, Dinner and Business With Mister Moneymaker COLE Folks, the oaoast investigative bureau, dug into The Enterprise's video vault earlier this morning to unearth some interesting footage that was shot just one day ago. Let's take a look.... RECORDED WENDESDAY THE 27TH The scene is Oceanwell, a three year old Miami restaurant, owned by the infamously wealthy Moneymaker family. The amazing South Beach stunner is renowned among wealthy Miami residents for it's cutting edge cusine, and food that sings a bright flurry of notes, each announcing that you have finally reached culinary shangri-la. Though the establishment would typically be loaded down with socialites debating over whether to get the tomato gazpacho or wild venison tataki, that is not the case tonight. It's sole patron is it's owner, Theodore Moneymaker, dressed for a fantastic occasion in a thousand dollar navy suit. Beside him resides his dutiful comrade, Christopher Patrick Allen, muscular physique uncomfortably crammed into a white button down shirt and a pair of black slacks. THEODORE MONEYMAKER She's late. Very late as a matter of fact. See, I wanted to send a car out for her, chauffeur her to this five star establishment, as any man of my stature might do for a beautiful guest. But no, that floozy has effectively been brainwashed by that out-of-touch wrench of a woman. I am woman, hear me roar. Pfft. I am Theodore Moneymaker, and you don't want to feel my wrath. To stand up a member of the Moneymaker clan up is to court a punishment worse then death. Hahahahahaha! CPA (patting Theodore on the shoulder) Right on, boss. Silence ensues when the sound of a car is heard in the background, screeching tires and all. A pink sports car pulls up in front of the restaurant.[/b] Several seconds later the front door swings open to reveal the guest of honor, Miss Alix Maria Spezia. Unlike her host and his lackey, Alix isn't exactly dressed for fine dinning establishment eating. Outfitted a dark grey Abercombie t-shirt that houses the number 31 in bright orange font, and short white shorts, she certainly does not fit the restaurant's high standards of dress. Theodore is scarcely able to brush aside his intense disgust for her lack of respect for his family's time honored dress code. ALIX SPEZIA Heeeeere's Allllly! Moneymaker puts on a sign of false humility and strides across the marble floor with head bowed in respect. He takes Alix's hand in a bowed embrace, which causes her to lick him....? Well, not her exactly but her Yorkshire Terrier. Yes, you read that right. Masking disgust, he moves to her other hand. A sharp pain instantly appears on his cheek followed by a soft trickle of blood. His eyes drift to find the cause of his wound, but they don't move far as a fluffy white kitten is staring him in the face. Theo tries has hardest to appear clam and relaxed while he address Alix over her unusual tag alongs. MONEYMAKER You, uh, brought your pets with you? ALIX A horse is a horse, of course, of course! A mommy should never leave her babies at home. This is my doggie Nikki (Alix grabs the dog's paw and makes it wave) He's waving at you! Isn't he just the cutest widdle thing? And this is his kitty Shayne. MONEYMAKER They are ador....wait, stop, your dog has a cat? ALIX It was a kawanza gift. Gawd, I was such a proud grandmommy when he rediscovered his West African roots at such a young age. (to CPA) Fight the power, all the way, right, brother? CPA ALIX Yeah, right on! MONEYMAKER Is the cat a boy or a girl? ALIX We don't know, it hasn't really decided yet. I feel it's very important to allow gender identity to be a choice between feline, spirit, and possibly a pair of scissors and some band aids. MONEYMAKER Goodness, I thought I was the only one who felt that way! Christopher, my good man, why don't you attend to the pretty kitties? You know, have a little fun with them, if you know what I mean. CPA Loud and clear, boss. A sinister glee on his face, CPA takes Alix's pets into his arms. The animals have no wish to spend their time with the surly bruiser and desperately try to escape his clutches. CPA (to the pets) Be afraid of the big black man. Be very afraid. Heh heh heh. ALIX (mocking Moneymaker's trademark comic book villain laughter) Mwaaaahhaaaahha! MONEYMAKER (barely able to suppress his annoyance) Bring anymore of your stu-- I mean pets? ALIX Just Terry Taylor, but he can wait in the car. MONEYMAKER Far better accommodations then he deserves! With animal control situated, I think that introductions are in order! Aside from our unfortunate tussle at Mainframe Monday, I don't believe we have properly made each others acquaintance, I am very humbled to meet you... ALIX Woah, and I thought I had a crappy name! Very humbled to meet you? That name totally sucks! MONEYMAKER I agree. Thankfully it is not mine. I am Theodore Moneymaker, and I am humble tireless servant of a demanding and all too fickle public. The big guy over there is my personal debt collector and Enterprise Director of Security, Christopher Patrick Allen. CPA for short. And you, my beautiful starlet, are Alix Maria Spezia. I have admired you from a far for quite some time. I saw you at the Oscars on Sunday, and you were beyond stunning, a true picture of female brilliance. Dare I say you made Reese Witherspoon look like the decaying maggot filled corpse of the late Ava Gardner. ALIX That is like the sweetest thing anyone has said to me in the past twenty minutes! Yeah it was a killer time, except the whole not allowed within fifty feet of Jodie Foster by order of the California courts kinda put a damper on things. But I think with suitable brainwashing and mind altering drugs, she and I can become best of buds! MONEYMAKER What you hold in true in your heart will come true in reality, that's what I've always been told. ALIX That's funny, I was always told, if the waters blue it's for you, if it's yellow your in trouble! MONEYMAKER That could probably save you few bucks on laundry detergent, that much is for sure. Um, yes, I believe our chef, named chef of the year by the Miami Herald is almost done with dinner, perhaps we should take a seat so that we may get into the matters of the day? Moneymaker leads Alix to her seat, holding her chair out for her like a true gentlemen should. Unfortunately his moment of politeness comes to an involuntary halt when his cellphone rings. The consummate business man, Moneymaker pulls it from his coat pocket to answer the call. However his hyperactive guest, interjects herself, snatching the phone from his fingers and acting as his secretary for the night. ALIX (in a sultry voice) Hi, if you're eighteen or over and have access to a valid credit card, then stay on the line and get ready to get hot, sweaty, and horny, with the sexiest Latin babes in... Trying his damnedest not to explode at Alix's unceasing goofiness, Moneymaker snatches the phone from her hands, and nervously slides it next to his ear. MONEYMAKER Uh...hello Mr. President. ALIX The president?! Dude, would Krista love to get her hands on him. Gimmie the phone so I can give Dubbya a piece of my mind! MONEYMAKER (fighting off Alix) Very sorry about that, sir. Yes, always willing to lend my country a helping hand. This weekend? Excellent, sir. Okay...okay...okay. Bye. ALIX You didn't give me the phone! Meanie! MONEYMAKER You never said please. ALIX Oh, no! Mother told me one day that'd come back to haunt me. MONEYMAKER Well, perhaps, you might tell me a bit about yourself. You are such an intriguing individual. But so much of what I know of you is gleaned from People magazine articles or Ned's strungout ramblings. Tell me about your life. Please. He leans in the close, the candle on the table flickering bellow his green eyes. A grin passes onto his lips, letting Alix know his keen interest of her history. ALIX The details of my life are quite inconsequential... very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds- pretty standard really. At the age of twelve I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum... it's breathtaking- I highly suggest you try it. Waaaaait, that wasn't my life, that was a monolouge from Austin Powers. Oopsie! Theodore leans back in his chair, beaming with false admiration of this unique woman. MONEYMAKER You....are like no one I have ever met before. ALIX Ya know, I get that alot. But this is the first time it hasn't been followed by an admittance to a state psychiatric facility. Shunning the idea of service with a smile, a glum waiter drags his weary carcass to the table, pushing a cart containing the exquisite entres of the night. WAITER Dinner is served, sir. Anything else I can do for you? Shoe shine? Tap dance? Soft shoe routine? Minstriel Show? MONEYMAKER No, thank you. Everything is just fine. Keep up this fine service and you might find a shiny nickel in your pant pocket when the night is over. WAITER (muttering to himself) You might find a shiny boot stuck up your.... MONEYMAKER What's that? WAITER Nothing sir. Nothing at all. ALIX Oooh lookie, your awesome waiter arranged the noodles to spell out the words “HELP ME! I AM BEING HELD AGAINST MY WILL! SEND WORD TO MY FAMILY IN KENYA THAT I AM ALIVE BUT NOT WELL!” Cute! Wright turns to CPA and motions towards the waiter, nodding towards the kitchen, and angrily making a throat slashing gesture. Alix meanwhile has turned strangely serious. ALIX Not that a free trip to Miami isn't the awesomest thing ever, buuuuuuut can I ask why I'm here? I mean, you know, we're not Nicole Kidman and Naomi Watts on the friendship scale. There isn't a whole lot in common between the twenty eight year old, peyote smoking, owner of a tiny gourmet cookie shop in West Hollywood, and a twenty four year old billion dollar heir, who has the ravaged facial features and eyes of eternal despair that typically belong to a forty three year old meth addict sleeping on the side of the Sunset Blvd exit on the 101. MONEYMAKER You'd be surprised. You and I really are a lot alike. ALIX Ya sure about that? MONEYMAKER Unquestionably. When you look past the philosophical differences, the sociological nuances,and exterior framework, you see that the psychological trappings are simply two of a kind. If I may be so bold, the same things make us feel good. ALIX Ooooh, like wearing thongs backwards. MONEYMAKER Okay, some of the same things. One of those things that shines light upon our hearts is the role of leadership. ALIX Oh, I have natural leadership skills. Like, in high school I was alternate assistant captain of the pom squad. But that was until they kicked me out after I got into a fist fight with our celebrity fundraiser. The cops totally overreacted! Who knew Scott Baio would be in a coma for six weeks? As for the old man who ended up in the hospital? If someone had told me he was an arch bishop ahead of time, maybe I would've told him not to smoke near the helium tank. MONEYMAKER So you understand? You, like me, are a leader of men. We are ones who shine the beacon for the lost dregs of America to follow. Forgive me if I get to personal with my commentary, but I must confide in someone. I have long yearned to ascend to the very heights of executive power within my family's expansive business ventures. But time and time again I am shut out, to no fault of my own. And why? ALIX Because you're hideously ugly? MONEYMAKER No! Well, possibly. No, because they say my time will come when I'm older....possibly wiser. Nonsense. Age is no measure of wisdom. They keep me from power, from true leadership, because it is the last hold my family has on me. This is how they control me. Once I have complete dominance over the Moneymaker empire how will they make me do their bidding? ALIX It's not like they can make you do it now. MONEYMAKER I know, I know. That's the precisely the point, my dear. I am younger then any male in the Moneymaker family. Wiser. Stronger. Better. They pleaded with me not to fight with Tony, that traitorous cancer. I left Tony for dead! He will never show his face within the oaoast again and that is because of me! The supposed strongest man in my family, turned into a weeping child at my feet. And if they can't control me now, how will they once I acquire true leadership within the family? I will become more powerful then the entire Moneymaker clan put together! That is why they keep me down. They fear my power. They fear me. ALIX Ah-ha. MONEYMAKER They fear my rise to leadership because of what I might do with it. All my life I have been instructed that preservation of the Moneymaker name was the most paramount drive of my life. Even if it's preservation came at the expense of those in need, those in the lower classes. As a young boy, even in my early twenties, I thought nothing of that order, I was concerned with nothing but sitting around the pool, and screwing anything that moved. But as I got older, I looked around, and I saw that the work of my family wasn't going towards the betterment of society as a whole. No. It seemed all my family's efforts were singularly devoted to the task of oppressing as many people as possible. I spent my whole life climbing a mountain only to find its the wrong mountain. ALIX Mountains can't be wrong! Unless they're underwater, then they're islands. MONEYMAKER That's why I formed The Enterprise, to advance my own goals of eternal love, caring, and tolerance. Sometimes our methods have been called into question. But I feel that what we're doing is for the benefit of the greater good. My conscience is not clear, but my heart truly is. But thanks to my last name and the atrocities attached to it, people have lost all respect for what I might be able to contribute. I am shunned by the left wingers as a fraud. Detested by the right as a traitor. ALIX Then why did the President call you if the right detests you? MONEYMAKER (under breath) Hmm, you're smarter than you look. ALIX Huh? MONEYMAKER I mean, when I speak for fairness and equal rights I am ignored at best, mocked at worst. My power is starting to dwindle, my leadership is being called into question. And both will surely erode should I not take hold of some kind of platform, a symbol that would cause people the world over to stand behind me, unified, knowing that I am a.....champion ALIX Can we kinda move this along? I'm starting to sober up, which might explain why I no longer see Hendrix's head sticking out of your right elbow. MONEYMAKER I'll be blunt. I need your help in obtaining that symbol. I thought winning the Anderson Cup would've been sufficient, but it's only fanned the flames of disdain! There's no satisfying these beasts! Alix Maria Spezia, I need your tag team titles. I know we're scheduled to do battle at Anglemania, but that's exactly what they want us to do. Divide and conquer. They don't want a unified front fighting for equality, they want to see us destroy each other. We can't fight. Too much harm would come from that. Now, I would do anything to ensure that you and Krista remain healthy champions for not months, but years to come. But in this current political climate, that simply isn't an option. Action must be taken, and the prestige of your championship coupled with my wealth is the exact combination we need to right the wrongs set forth by oppressors. I understand that this is an Inconvenient Truth for you, that is why I am willing to offer you a monetary settlement for your championship belts. Besieged by indignation, Ally leaps from her chair in horror, casting a disgusted look towards the suddenly pale face of Moneymaker. CPA rises from his seat, readying himself to defend his less then honorable employee should the need arise. ALIX Ewwww! I knew it! I knew it! At first I thought you just waiting till you bored me to sleep so you could slip something in my drink and fondle my helpless body. SIMON (behind camera) Damn! How'd she know about that? NED (also behind camera) Shut up and keep filming. ALIX But this is way worse! I would never in fifty trillion, eighty billion, sixty gazillion years sell you...how, much are we talkin' about? MONEYMAKER Three hundred thousand dollars. ALIX I'll never sell the tag team titles to you! Shyea right! Like you could sweet talk me, “oh you're like no one I've ever met before, you looked so good at the Oscars, ooh I wanna spank your booty Secretary style.” Puh-leaze, I wasn't born yesterday, and if I was how would you explain my ability to walk or talk or do long division. Answer: You couldn't! You wanna help the poor and the oppressed, huh? Attention K-Mart shoppers, we have a special on lying assholes on aisle six, and a sale on enormous pricks in aisle four! Yeah right! Los Diablos are the most oppressed guys I've ever met in all my six lives, and you poured out hundreds of thousands of dollars to harass, attack, make fun of, and assault them almost every week! The tag team titles aren't a symbol of anything to you. They're just some cheap piece of jewelry you can show off to make you feel like your better then everyone else. Yeah,well guess what, chico, they're my cheap piece of jewelry that I'm using to belittle those of lower social and economic status and they aren't for sale. Unless of course you're willing to go up to five hundred thousand dollars. And a pony. I love, love, love, ponies! But unless you can pull a pony out your BUTT, in which case you should have a prostate exam like right now, then forget it, because you're never gonna get it! Never ever gonna get it! MONEYMAKER Damn it, girl, are you that much of a fool? Do you not realize the offer being presented to you? Open your eyes, woman, and wake up to reality, The Enterprise is an unstoppable force, a machine that mows down any in it's path without discrimination. All who have stood before The Enterprise have fallen and fallen hard! When The Enterprise sets it sight on you, there is no escape. None! I do not care how famous, how popular you and your girlfriend happen to be. The Moneymaker empire crushes everything. Do you not understand the severity of the situation our winning the Anderson Cup has put you in? I am doing you a favor! I'm giving you the chance to spare yourself and your partner a sound thrashing at Anglemania from the finely honed wrestling skills of Anderson Cup winners. Not only that but I am paying you a handsome reward, when in truth it should be you offering me money for this extension of mercy. You should be on your knees, thanking me for the offering I just presented you! ALIX Unlike, you and Christian on the weekends, I don't get down on my knees for any man. If I'm not gonna say no to drugs, I'm sure gonna say no to offers that sound like they came from someone on drugs. N-O, mister! Now if you'll excuse I have to make like a banana and leave....er make like a tree and split. Wait, crap! You know what I meant, I don't have to repeat it. Alix rises from her table and snatches her pets, who look fine but wait until a few hours later, from CPA, then departs out the door. Theodore gazes at the spot where the vexatious woman once resided, his rumpled features pushed down into agonized despair. With troubled mind, he bleakly motions to Simon Singleton to cease filming. But owing to some warped journalistic credo, The Video Voyeur keeps the camera rolling. MONEYMAKER Hmmmmm. Not as stupid as I was lead to believe. It's unthinkable that she of all people saw through my ruse that easily. One way or another, their title reign will be coming to an abrupt ending, and I promise you this, Miss Spezia, that ending will assuredly come before Anglemania. Haahhhaahaha! NED (off screen) You the man, Theo! Haaahahhahaa! CPA Haahaahhaa! Shockingly Ally makes a quick return to the restaurant, giving hope to Moneymaker's frayed heart that has ill fated deal may be resurrected. ALIX Forgot my purse! She snatches her handbag, and departs once more, leaving Moneymaker to stew over his failed plot as we fade out. COLE Selling the title? Who does he think she is, That 70s Dude? COACH $300K for the belts? That's a STEAL! Those things are only worth like $75 each anyway. But, Theodore gave the award away to BHB's and Molly Nerdly for the following segment, SCHOOL HAZE A documentary film By Simon Singleton Cinematography by Molly Nerdly STARRING Rico De Janeiro Lucius Soul and featuring Tyler Bryant Shayne Brave The “movie” begins with the musical accompaniment of Wonderful World by Sam Cooke and an exterior shot of the Beverly Hills Vista Elementary School, where Maya Duncan-Blanchard, daughter of Krista and Ned, spends time honing her already out of this world intellect. As it's only a few minutes before the opening bell, the grounds are overflowing with rambunctious children, and teachers trying to usher them into the building. After the ranks of students thin out, the image dissolves, rematerializing seconds later into the sight of Lucius Soul and Rico De Janeiro strolling through a hallway of the prestigious school. Soul has attired himself in snake skin shoes, zebra print bell bottoms, a purple and green tiger print vest, and an orange fedora. Rico looks sightly less crazy in white jeans that are a million sizes too short, and a bright yellow silk dress shirt. SINGLETON (off screen) Simon Singleton... MOLLY (off screen) And me! SINGLETON Simon Singleton, and Molly Nerdly, offering you a firecracker of an expose, as we seek to blow up the biggest sham of them all, the American educational system. Today, Mister Lucius Soul and Mister Rico De Janeiro join our hunt for two women, Alix Maria Spezia, and Krista Isadora Duncan, a parent of a child who's being brutally swindled by the shady ploys of a broken institution. MOLLY Lucius, it cost seventeen thousand dollars per year to send your child to this school. More then what your average American can possibly afford. How do you feel about that? Soul and Rico admire the fabulous conditions of the ritzy private school. SOUL Man, this place is nice. My elementary school was so ghetto kindergärtners didn't have nap time, they had lockdown. Art teacher was mad niggerish, had us making counterfit license plates, talking 'bout he can get ten bucks a pop down at the corner store. Took us on a field trip, said we was going to the art museum, nigga had us meetin his probation officer. “Look officah, Ah'm supportin mah kids!” RICO So this, chico, this is what it means to be rich in America? All your money and riches forked over to your snot nosed little brats. Do ya know how much money Rico gives to his kids? Not a dime, man. You work for what you earn in Rico's world, chico. You get nothing from me, man. Nada. Suddenly a young boy carrying a ceramic bowl he made in art class darts down the hallway. Obviously unaccustomed to having people who look bat shit insane in his hallway, he stops, surprised at the sight of the strange foursome. Rico eyes his ceramic bowl with curiosity. RICO Hey, man, whatchu got there? That don't look like no textbook or calculator. KID Its a bowl! I made it for my mommy. Rico snatches the bowl out the kid's hand. It appears that he's about to cry, until Soul silences him with a menacing finger wave. RICO No, you make it for Rico now. Hmm...it looks more like a cup then bowl. By cup Rico seems to have meant protective cup as he rubs it around his crotch, drawing a dissatisfied scowl onto his face. RICO This, this, don't fit, man! This don't fit at all. Was wrong witchu, man? What you tryin to do to Rico, man? You tryna break Rico's balls? Rico don't break his balls for nobody. I gotta have you understand something, see. Rico has big Brazillian cock, huge South American penis. It's an icon in my village, adored by the women, respected by the men, enjoyed by children of all ages. Sometimes, when the cops are interrogating someone, man, and he's real tough, don't wanna talk, they bring in Rico, and I smack 'em around with my penis, then he gets to spillin' his guts. KID I saw my daddy smacking the poolboy with his penis. He works for the government! MOLLY Woah! What's that I hear? An Emmy? A Larry King Interview? Front page New York Times? RICO (ignoring Molly's delight) Rico needs big, big, cup to protect his monstrous penis. Can you build Rico big cup for his big penis? The kid nods enthusiastically. RICO Good man. You keep eating your vegetables, sayin' your prayers, and wishing upon a star, maybe one day some little kid will make you cup for your big Brazilian penis like me. Pleased with the knowledge that he to may one day traumatize young boys, the kid scurries off. SOUL (laughing) You wrong for that, Rico. You mad wrong. I ain't visiting you neither when they cart you off to the pen. RICO Whatchu mean, mang? The children love me, because I don't give it to them no bullshit. You wanna know the real problem with America and its schools, they don't wanna give the children the realness like I do. I tell 'em everything beca.... Before Rico can finish his sentence the sound of two familiar voices silences he and his partner. The voices belong to two males who couldn't be day older then twenty. Their laugh grates on the nerves of Rico and Soul, etching looks of disapproval onto their face. The camera swerves around to reveal D*LUX's Shayne Brave and Tyler Bryant emerging from a fourth grade classroom. The sight of each other throws all four men into a state of shock, because if two OAOAST wrestlers in an elementary school thousands of miles away from their hometown is very strange, then four OAOAST wrestlers in an elementary school thousands of miles away from their hometown is SEVERLY FUCKED UP! Soul is able to get over the fucked upness quickly enough to draw first verbal blood. SOUL Well, if it ain't peckerwood and peck-a-dick. SINGLETON Oh snap! RICO (holding the ceramic bowl to his dick) Hey, you guys like my new cup? SHAYNE A little big for you, isn't it? MOLLY Oh double snap! SOUL Yo, shut the hell up, boy. What are ya'll doing up in here? SHAYNE (proudly) Us? We're Maya Duncan-Blanchard's show and tell! As a matter of fact we were a huge hit with her class. SINGLETON Show and tell? SOUL I get it. They show the kids how to be a pussy, and tell 'em how to be a bitch. MOLLY Oh snap-oh snap-and oh snap again! TYLER We answered you. So, you answer us. What do you want here? SOUL While ya'll steady stay on some To Catch A Predator, Garry Glitter type shit, simping on some sixth graders, waving around lil Kool-Aid juice boxes and Lunchables like it crack rock to ho's on eighth avenue, we came looking for the finest hoes in all of Southern California, Alix Spezia and Krista Isadora Duncan. Where they at? TYLER I'd thank you not to refer to Miss Krista as a hoe. And they're at work. Miss Krista is filming a fitness video, and Alix is at her bakery. RICO (stunned) Why ain't they with Maya, mang? This where she go to school, right? Who lied? SHAYNE Huh? A mother doesn't spend her every waking moment at her kid's side. Apparently this is a new concept for Rico and Soul, who now realized they've flown across the country for nothing more then a tour of Dodge Stadium. SOUL Man, I don't believe this shit! Awww, god damnit! God damn it! While dressing like they may have just crawled out of a drag revue show, and enlisting a five year old into making penis apparel, may not have drawn the attention of the faculty, but Soul's outburst certainly did. The door to the classroom that D*LUX just emerged from creeps open. However, the arguing wrestlers aren't admonished with the stern face of the teacher, but with the stern face of Maya Duncan-Blanchard, dressed like a miniature Krista. However, she chews them out like a full grown Krista. MAYA Excuse me! I know its kind of hard to tell with all the lockers, children, backpacks, textbooks, classrooms, computers, chalkboards, and teachers around, but this is actually a school. Shocking, I know. The Beverly Hills Vista Elementary schools strives to provide us students with incentives for character, scholarship, and personality through a rigorous yet engagingly revolutionary curriculum. But in order to do that, our teachers need thoroughgoing taciturnity. Do you understand? RICO No. Not at all. MAYA Just be quieter! SOUL Sure thing, sweetie. MAYA Please don't call me sweetie. I want society to respect me no matter what flavor I decide to be, sweet, sour, tangy, mild. I'm careful about what auras I allow into my life. Oh, hi, Uncle Simon! SIMON Hi, Maya! Once Maya disappears to go back to discovering the secret of life or whatever it is girl geniuses do, the adults keep their voices at inside level. TYLER What would bottom feeders like you you want with Miss Krista and Alix anyway? Forgetting Maya's stern admonishment, Molly belts out her answer. MOLLY To put the parents who enable this farce of an edu... RICO (interrupting Molly, obv) What we, Lucius and Rico, want is title belts and championship gold! You know, man, The Mardi Gras should be the undisputed number one tag team in the world. Problem is, a couple of these bums out in the industry, they don't wanna recognize the greatness that Rico and his partner, Sweet Lucius Soul bring to the table. Why is that, mang? SOUL Jealously. Plain and simple. RICO Jealously that we have everything they want, money, cars, women, power, and the world, chico. The world most of all. How do we get these maricon cocksuckers to recognize that the Wrecking Crew owns that number one spot? How we gonna overcome the jealously and get what's coming to us? I tell you, man. I tell you. We get those One and Only world tag team titles. We get those belts from Chicks Over Dicks, and we got the respect and the recognition, we've been deserving since the dawn of time. We're gonna be on top, man, us and nobody else. SOUL (smirking) And that ain't no thang for Mardi Gras. After all we is the greatest HI-YAH tag team champs of all time. Right? Not taking Lucius' bait, Shayne defends Krista's honor rather then his own. SHAYNE Miss Krista is as brave and courageous as she is beautiful! She's a real life warrior princess! TYLER She'll take your challenge, no question about it. And just like in the scramble cage match she'll be the one showered with cheers and chants, and you'll be the one showering with tears and regrets. You can bet on that. After all she is a four time tag team champion, and you, well...you're nothing. RICO (laughing) When you're defending your little eight man titles... TYLER Six man.. RICO whatever, once every four months, and we're getiin praised as the greatest tag team in the business, I'll make sure to remind you you said that, man. Soul puts his hand in the air to call for silence. SOUL 'Cause I'm such a good Christian, and a proud, proud, member of the church and congregation, praise the lord Jesus, it hurts me to have to talk so dirty about them females, but they dirty girls and I gotta do a dirty girl in the dirtiest way I know. See, we got another problem with Chicks Over Dicks. SHAYNE What's that? SOUL What I got to tell you is a dose of that strong medicine, lord forgive me for what I'm bout to say, but you made me no other way. We motherfucking pimps. Pimpeddd out with three d's for a triple dose of this pimpin. God put women on this earth to ho, and macs on this earth to pimp. I tell a bitch I'ma pimp they ass and that's that, I tell a bitch I'ma tap that ass, and that's that again. They say okay, we do the damn thing, and I get my money. And when I see those two bitches, Alix and Krista, its like damn I gotta do this. They got on them fuckin jeans and them skirts, how the fuck am I not goin' pimp this? God gave me life to pimp that quality of bitch. Rico, how we not gonna pimp this? At the very least how we not gonna tap that? SHAYNE Because if you try to you're gonna come face to face with a D*LUX beatdown. RICO (ignoring Shayne's threat) Because they're dykes. MOLLY Bigotry and prostitution as it relates to an upper class interracial lesbian couple as a metaphor for the faltering educational system? You couldn't have planned this better if it was a skit in the middle of a show featuring heavily choreographed fake fighting. Please continue with your ignorance! SOUL Alix and Krista could be the best hoes we've ever had. Big ol booties, big ol titties, fine ass legs, and a whole lot of brains. They home run hitters, they competin on that field, going to hit that grand slam, getin they man, us men, everything. They know we been itchin' to bust that shit out! But they shuttin us out, because instead of letting Soul strap on the rubber, they'd rather strapon the rubber, if you know what I mean? LITTLE BOY No, what do you mean? RICO What the hell? Get outta here, man! SOUL Ya'll might be cool with circle jerkin to their fitness videos and magazine spreads, but big Lucious and Rico slim, is pimps, and we gotta be how pimps be, and real pimps, real one hundred percent, hard and cold on a hoe pimps, ain't be appreaciating pussy keeping pussy. RICO This is to say we don't appreciate this lesbian thing, mang. It goes against the natural order of being a pimp. SHAYNE Hey, guess what, dude? We don't appreciate you calling Krista or Alix, bitches, and hoes. In fact, we don't really appreciate anything you've said right here. And you're close to starting a fight you can't win. TYLER So either clam up, or we'll clam you up! RICO That so, man? SOUL Easy, easy, easy. You don't have to appreciate anything, just pass on the message. These queen latifah girls is done. When the big daddies bust down the door its over for these carpet munchers, because we coming to bomb that shit wide out! Wonderful World returns to it's position as the auditory narrative as the camera glides backwards through the hallway, eventually reducing the staredown between the two teams into one jumbled speck. As it backs out the door the view switches to an image of solider lying bloody and dead within the jungles of Vietnam. No it doesn't make sense, but its art, it shouldn't make sense to plebeians like you. SCHOOL HAZE A documentary film By Simon Singleton Cinematography by Molly Nerdly COACH D*LUX looking like some simple fools right about now. Couple of Captain save-a-hoes. And the ho they saving is a lesbian. Disgusting. You'll never see me like that. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Patty O'Green 0 Report post Posted January 4, 2008 PPV MOTY WINNER #1 Angleslam: Leon Rodez, Chicks Over Dicks, and D*LUX Vs The Enterprise BUFFER Ladies and gentlemen the following contest is a Ten Person Tag Team Grudge Match, scheduled for one fall! Introducing team number one... Green and yellow spotlights swirl around the ring, and guitar riffs that roar with energy and spunk scream through the air, quickly trailed by a plethora of boos and jeers. Beneath the voices of hatred and the melodic hard rock strumming, comes feverish vocals scratching out the virtues of the almighty dollar. Tailored suits, show of your cars Fine hotels and big cigars Up for grabs, up for a price Where the red hot girls keep on dancing through the night The claim is on you The sights are on me So what do you do That's guaranteed Hey little girl, you want it all The furs, the diamonds, the painting on the wall Past parting entrance doors emerges an army of dastardly cretins who live their life to the every word of their hard driving music, The Enterprise. Leading the way is the brainchild behind this detested troupe, Theodore Moneymaker, clad in green trunks and matching green boots. Moneymaker simply smirks at the throng of fans laid before him, seemingly unimpressed with being in the legendary arena. At his side stands Christopher Patrick Allen, dutifully swatting away any front row fans foolish enough to try and lay their unwashed hands on the billionaire. Trailing behind them are the white trunked, Beverly Hills Blonds, who maintain an air of confidence behind oversized pink lens sunglasses. The last member the team, Christian Wright clings his briefcase close to his chest, but makes no issues with threatening to strike it against the heads of the more vulgar crowd members. Rounding out the caboose of the party are the three valets, Jade Rodez, Molly Nerdly, and Mackenzie. The pink track suited Jade shows all the emotion of soup, whereas Mackenzie gleefully shows off her fur coat, which could use a visit to one of the many New York dry cleaners! Shit smells like Queens Bridge. Molly, in yellow polo shirt and khaki pants, works the Siclopse to document an event that's already being documented by numerous cameras that weren't gotten for 15$ in the Bronx. Patty sez: Holy shit that's a lot of people! Come on, come on, lovin for the money Come on, come on, listen to the money talk Come on, come on, lovin for the money Come on, come on, listen to the money talk BUFFER Being accompanied by Jade Rodez, Molly Nerdly, and Mackenzie DeCenzo, the OAOAST gives to you, Christian Wright, Christopher Patrick Allen, Ned Blanchard, Simon Singleton, and the Billion Dollar Heir, Theodore Moneymaker...THE ENTERPRISE! COLE It has been one terrible month for The Enterprise. In one week they went from having every male member in the stable holding a title, to being completely beltless. Can they rebound tonight in New York City or are they destined to failure? COACH You ask some damn stupid questions sometimes. There ain't nothing to rebound from! The Enterprise is as strong as ever, maybe stronger then ever. Their power doesn't lie in titles, it lies in influence and money. And they still got a lot of that. This is The Enterprise's match to lose, Cole, don't you forget that. The members of The Enterprise pour into squared and immediately join hands to raise their arms in glorious triumph. That is all expect for Molly, who gingerly films the exhibition of greatness. While the Nerdly girl may consider their pose a work of art, the audience considers it utter garbage, and attempts to shower them with that very thing. Unaffected by the mounting hatred, Allen, Wright, Singleton and Ned stream towards each corner, standing atop the turnbuckles in triumph. Moneymaker remains in the center of the ring, arms hooked between Jade and Mackenzie, flashing a smile a mile wide. Behind Moneymaker three titanic dollar signs festooned in popping green pyro lower from the ceiling, bringing forth a devilish laugh from the billionaire. COLE This has to be a pretty fun night for Molly, she's a grad student at NYU and now gets a chance to perform live in Madison Square Garden COACH How much fun can you have as an unpaid intern? COLE The value of the internship isn't measured in dollars earned but in knowledge gained. Though she could've dropped out of third grade and still be smarter then Ned and Simon. BUFFER And introducing their opponents... Give me something to believe in Cause I don’t believe in you anymore Anymore I wonder if it even makes a difference to try (Yeah) So this is goodbye The members of D*LUX earn a few brownie points by wearing Knicks jerseys. But its unlikely they even hear those cheers as they zip towards the squared circle! COLE Look at 'em run! Buffer can't even properly introduce D*LUX due to their wild slide into the ring nearly knocking him to the floor. The announcer isn't their primary concern, instead directing their feisty glares towards The Enterprise. Moneymaker and Wright offer dismissive waves to their harsh stare, regarding D*LUX as little more then a minor nuisance. COLE Two thirds of the six man champions, D*LUX, rumbling into Angleslam! They may be happy to have those belts, but I guarantee they would trade that and more to have Jade back by their side. COACH And that's what makes them certified bitches. 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! "YEAAAAAH!" The infectious bounce of Avril's wonderhit signifies more then a minor nuisance for Ned Blanchard, who hides beneath the ring apron in hopes of avoiding a meeting with his child's mother. Those who aren't currently praying for their life are treated to the splendid sight of a pyrofall of red sparkles showering the ring. The fans that were marveling at the majestic serenity of the waterfall, are thrust into a state of shock once a golden pyro fortress engulfs the entirety of the ring. Despite the incredible power packed behind the display of pyro it's quickly forgotten by the audience, who sit wowed by the image of hundreds of slim, gorgeous models, dressed in full statue of liberty gear, complete with grey glittering full body makeup, generously distributing wads of cash through the stands. An entire arena is abuzz with glee at the thought of receiving free money. Moneymaker can't share their glee, as he realizes hundreds and thousands of dollars are exchanging hands, and he's not getting a single cent. COACH Aw shit! Are they for real? Let me get some of that money! Yo, I don't even mess with The Enterprise like that. Bunch of cornball redneck, homphobe crackers. Shit, I can't even name 'em all. Can I have my money now? The audience's cheers expand infinitely once they witness the emergence of the two women who've brought Christmas in August, Alix Maria Spezia and Krista Isadora Duncan. However the girls can't be bothered to walk to the ring like the ragged peasants in The Enterprise! No, they must be carried in only the finest of carriages! And tonight's magical carriage is a vintage Cadillac Eldorado. Worth well over eighty thousand dollars the car is painted with an American Flag pattern, with the fifty stars adorned by a generous helping of flawless sapphires that total over half a million dollars. As though this near unimaginable flaunting of wealth weren't enough to etch their place in Madison Square Garden history, the giggling queens of Los Angeles have their chariot driven by the self proclaimed King of New York, 50 Cent. More then just a well paid, and well muscled chauffeur 50 delves into the flow of his boisterous hit I get money. Being that New York is the home of hip-hop (no hate on west coast, crazy love for you Cali) the audience is eager to rap along with their so-called king. I get money, I get money, I get I get I get money I get money, money is got (I....I get it) money I got, money is got (I run this city!) COD get money, money is got (they...they get it) money they got, money is got (They run LA) I get money, money is got (I I get it) I get money, money is got (I I get it) I get money, money is got (Yeah yeah) money I got, money is got (I run this city!) COD get money, money is got (Yeah yeah) money they got, money is got (They run LA!) A ruby encrusted stature of liberty hat resting atop her luscious blond locks, Krista struts her black high heels across the hood and gracefully glides into the ring. Her loyal admirers, D*LUX, are quick to hold the ropes open for her highness. Their adoring hearts earn a heaping of pleasure from sneaking a glimpse at the long tan legs revealed through the open sided mini skirt, and the perfect body that fills out a deep plunge tank top. Upon entering the ring, Miss California stands on the first rope, and leans over the cables to beam a disarmingly arrogant smirk to the millions of viewers world wide. 50 flows behind her, prowling the ring with aggressive strides. I take quarter water sold it in bottles for two bucks, Coca-Cola came and bought it; for billions, what the fuck? have a baby by me; baby be a millionaire I write the check before the baby comes, who the fuck cares? I'm stanky rich Attired in a charmingly adorable white tube top, matching booty shorts, and fluffy faux fur covered wrist bands and boots, Alix sweetly distributes cash to the legion of money hungry front row fans. Once she comes to the location of her disgusted foes, its as though they're merely insignificant pylons to be brushed aside, as she dances her way to Mackenzie DeCenzo. Ally's bubbly voice pleasures Mackenzie's ears with scintillating promises laced in exotic Spanish words. Her departure is marked by making Mackenzie's bra just little fatter, as with a wink and a smile she tenderly places a wad of bills into her shirt. While Alix backs away with an alluring grin, Mackenzie tries to compose herself beneath the glares of her associates. Yeah, I talk the talk, and I walk the walk like a teflon Don, but i run New York when I come outta court, yea I pop the Colt I keep it gangsta, have ya outlined in chalk I I get it, in the hood if ya ask about me theyll tell ya im bout my bread I I get it, round the world if ya ask about me they'll tell ya they love the kid Alix darts into the squared where the waiting arms of Krista twirl and showcase her like a neoclassical ballerina. Tired of sharing Alix with the world, Krissy traps her into a tender embrace. Brushing a strand of hair away from her face, she flips an alluring kiss to the camera causing cute super imposed red lips to pop on the screen. Sensing that Moneymaker is literally on the verge of exploding, Molly tries to cheer him up, “Uh, man, I like the..uh..the little dollar signs on your tights. Like, they're kinda peeling off and stuff. But they're still kinda cool. Kinda.” MONEYMAKER The rap finishes to a rousing crowd ovation, which certainly does nothing to improve Moneymaker's miserable mood. 50 departs the scene reminding the audience to cop his new CD on 9/11/ which I won't be doing, because 50 IS WACK, SON, HE WACK. That nigga straight garbage. Its Kanye all day like a motherfucker. COACH Did that really just happen? With the musical performance soon to become a distant memory, the arena plunges into an ominous darkness. The only illumination stems from a track of purple and green pyro that speeds along opposite ends of the circular lighting fixture encasing the scoreboard. The racing thunderstorm generates four individual laps before finally coming together to birth an orange conflagration that envelopes the entire scoreboard. COLE Never let it be said Leon Rodez doesn't know how to make an entrance of his own! The lights improve to a dim setting, but once again the majority of illumination stems from fireworks, this time ten foot white sparklers that erect themselves in front of the entrance doors. The shareef don't like it Rock the Casbah Rock the Casbah Through the monument of pyro steps the black robbed figure of Leon Rodez, decorated by the waves of stray sparks. He basks in brightness of their glow and the humongous cheers of the crowd, holding his arms to his side and tilting his smiling head back to the heavens. COLE I had the pleasure of talking to Leon Rodez earlier today and he assured me that he had a great feeling about tonight. He certainly looks like it right now. COACH Define great? Because I see great for Leon Rodez as not leaving this building with any career ending injuries. Finally able to make an announcement, Buffer speaks with gusto. BUFFER Now making his way to the ring, he hails from Grand Rapids, Michigan, stands five feet eleven inches, and weighs in at two hundred eighteen pounds. Ladies and gentlemen of New York City, please give a warm welcome to “SILKY SMOOTH” LEON ROOOODEZZZZZZZ!!!! "YEAAAAAH!" COLE You gotta love Leon Rodez! One hell of a competitor, and a future world champion in my book. Rodez journeys down the ramp, slapping hands with his myriad of fans, and offering thankful nods to those who give him words of encouragement. As he leaps onto the ring apron, he points and nods towards the legion of standing fans promising them a victory tonight. Moneymaker is roundly unimpressed by the sight of Rodez' boasting. Unfortunately he doesn't even get to continue viewing the sight as Leon casually dumps his robe onto his head! COLE Oh my! Ignoring the stream of complaints from The Enterprise, Leon shakes hands with D*LUX and tries to do the same with Krista and Alix, until Krista not so sweetly reminds him that she came here with 50 Cent and she's not afraid to have him shoot Leon. COLE Folks, as both teams take their spots on the apron let me just remind you that this is a one fall contest. No eliminations here, the first pin wins it. So teamwork is of the essence. Quite amazingly referee Charles Robinson manages to get two teams to pile into their respective corners without a hint of violent incident. However the peaceful separation is betrayed by the vituperative stares passed between the warring parties. Only Ned seems to posses an air of tranquility. This stems from the kissey faces he directs towards the apathetic Jade Rodez. His ring based partner, Christian Wright, can't afford such distractions, instead solely focused on the man across from him, Leon Rodez. *DING DING DING!* The match begins with the entire arena planted firmly on the side of The Grand Rapids Goldenchild. Drawing on their support, Leon streaks forward with a lariat. However, Wright dips bellow the attack, and Rodez bounds off the ropes nearest The Enterprise. The villainous rouges waste little time in engaging in underhanded tactics; CPA and Simon Singleton strike the crowd favorite with forearms. He stumbles into the waiting clutches of Wright, who seeks to take him down with an arm bar. However, the midwest speedster rolls through the hold, and kips up to his feet. A frustrated Natural quickly joins him. Their stalemate is short lived, however, thanks to a snapmare from The New Age Love Machine. Robinson counts the resulting pin... ONE Well before the two count Wright pushes his way free of the pin. He moves upright, but gets sucked back downwards by a swipe of his legs. Leon drapes his muscular frame over his foe's for another pinfall.. ONE Again, Wright easily kicks out of the fall. He scampers to his feet where he's met with a barrage of punches from his rival. Left off balanced by the attack, he's incapable of stopping Rodez from hooking him into a front facelock. Thus Rodez meets with no trouble in twisting him into a neckbreaker. However he does meet with trouble in the form of CPA, who attempts to decapitate him with a big boot! But The Grand Rapids Golden Child dips bellow the attack, and pops up to floor CW with a forearm smash! LOVE MACHINE! LOVE MACHINE! LOVE MACHINE! As a D*LUX double dropkick rids the ring of CPA, the fan favorite covers The Natural... ONE TWO The interfering boot of Simon Singleton saves Wright from certain defeat. But there's no one to save The Video Voyeur from being mowed down by a Leon Rodez lariat. On the outside Molly reacts as though the prime minister has just been shot. Yet her screams pale in comparison to the cheers when Leon's gloved fist punches a startled Ned off the apron! LOVE MACHINE! LOVE MACHINE! LOVE MACHINE! COACH Oh come on! Say, something, Cole. Just a second ago you you were getting on The Enterprise for attacking Rodez! COLE What are you talking about? I haven't had a line of commentary all match. Trembling with something akin to anger (remember Leon doesn't get mad!), Le-Ro leans over the ropes and orders Blanchard into the sqaured circle. But as Ned is to busy begging Jade for some TLC, its a request that goes unanswered. CPA, however, is up to the challenge, and takes Wright's place in the bout with an open handed slap to Leon's back. While blood creeps from his orange skin, Leon is hurled into the ropes. However, he shifts his bodyweight and reverses the hold! Once the lumbering beast returns to him, the ex-pornstar attempts to take him over with a powerslam. But, Allen is a REALLY BIG DUDE, so that move is pretty much impossible. Rather then throw out his back at the ripe age of twenty three, Leon simply drags the Youngstown native into a roll up! ONE TWO THREE! Well, it would be three, if it wasn't for the tortured artist Molly Nerdly hurling her 2003 Canadian Filmaker of the year award at Leon. “BOOOOOO”, belts Molly's somewhat hometown crowd. COACH How they can boo her? She goes to New York University! Her intellectual integrity and impeccable academic record are the only thing keeping this rotten hell hole afloat! “Boo? You want something to boo about?” Molly yells. “I'll give you something to boo about! Middle Eastern Filmaker Abbas Kiraostami and his minimalist, self reflective style that was key to blurring the once distinctive line between documentary and fiction that marked post revolutionary Arab film is being ignored in film schools across the country thanks to Euro-centric viewpoint that permeates through the “minds” of today's scatterbrained professors. Boo that, people! Boo the fuckin' shit out of that!” While Leon contemplates why Molly is lecturing people who can't even walk and chew gum at the same time on the pitfalls of higher education, the overmatched Allen sneaks in a tag with Simon Singleton. Given that he had been fighting a massive black man just two seconds ago, Leon is somewhat shocked to be staring down a pudgy white guy with the worst haircut known to man. Simon and his asinine perm are able to capitalize on Rodez's confusion by trapping him into arm wringer. Yet no sooner then two seconds after the hold is applied does Rodez roll forward in an effort to escape. Singleton tries to shift his grip on his foe's arm to keep him trapped into place. However, Rodez's agility wins out, and he's able to kip upright, where he snares the video voyeur into an arm wrench of his own! COACH Is Leon ever going to tag out of this match? COLE Probably. Although, I'm sure Leon would be more than willing to take all five Enterprise opponents on single-handedly considering their actions in the past few months. The Grand Rapids Golden Child uses his hold on Singleton's arm to thrust him into the cables. But a return to the pornking is prohibited by the ever-so-helpful Molly Nerdly latching onto his ankles. Perhaps this tactic isn't as helpful as we thought, as Leon strides forward and shoulder tackles the hapless henchmen out of the ring, much to Molly's distress and the audience's delight. COLE That's going under the deleted scenes. With Simon currently impaired, Robinson demands Ned Blanchard, enter the ring. Reluctance; thy name is Ned Blanchard! Getting grabbed by your thinning hair and thrown into the ring by Leon Rodez; thy name is also Ned Blanchard! Bewailing the loss of what few strands of precious hair he has left, Ned rises to his feet. A mixture of indignation over the attack, and horror over being left in the ring with Leon Rodez settles over his face. Blue eyes immediately search for a way out, and once they spot it, white boots dart to it. However, Leon clasps his hands onto Ned's tights, locking him firmly into place. COLE Go get 'em Leon! In an act of pure desperation, Ned clamps down onto Leon's neck, then sits out, spiking his archrival with a stunner. As the move wasn't delivered with much impact, it fails to floor Rodez, instead keeping him upright and wobbly. Blanchard moves fast to take advantage of Rodez wounds; grabbing Leon's left arm and twisting it behind his back. Despite the searing pain in his limb Rodez exerts a gargantuan struggle to fight against Ned's attacks. Unfortunately he does not succeed in preventing the Handsome Hustler from lifting him up over his shoulder, and dropping him straight onto his hammerlocked arm. Ned follows with a pinfall. ONE TWO But Leon kicks out, greatly pleasing the Madison Square Garden fans. COACH For real, dawg, is Leon ever planning on tagging anyone else into this match? Both competitors head to their feet, but it's Ned who draws first blood with an irish whip. As Leon makes his way back towards his position, Blanchard throws his six feet two inches into the sky with a leapfrog. Problematically for Blanchard, Le-Ro engages in a leap of his own and slams his purple boots into Ned's chest. Blanchard splashes into the canvas, pain immediately dispersing throughout every inch of his body. Unfortunately the agony is set to get much worse, as the Grand Rapids Golden Child begins twisting him over for the famous Lion tamer. The thought of seeing Rodez's trademark finisher causes the audience to burst with a downrush of cheers. COLE Could this be it? Is it all over? Stricken with panic, Ned pours every ounce of strength in his body into hauling Leon into a rollup. But before Robinson can even entertain the thought of counting Ned's pin, Leon reverses into a pinning situation of his own... CROWD ONE CROWD TWO To the crowd's dismay, Blanchard is able to kickout. COACH Does he think he's better then everyone on his team? Is that it? COLE Not all. It's just that The Enterprise has put him through so much hell, taken his family away from him, that he wants to make sure he personally inflicts as much damage as humanly possible. Sensing trouble, Moneymaker pounds on the turnbuckle in effort to pump some fighting spirit into his underling. As he rises, Ned certainly does get “pumped”. But its not with fighting spirit, rather it's with the legendary four jab combo of The Silky Smooth One. But the trademark kiss is never blown, thanks to Ned thumbing Leon in his green eyes. “BOOOOOO!” In addition to the deluge of hate, Blanchard is issued a stern warning from the official. Ned will take all those admonishments and many more, as his cheap shot has afforded him the chance to make the tag with CPA. COLE Foul play by Ned Blanchard! COACH Foul play? Leaving your four other partners cold on the ring apron for seven minutes is foul play. Allen has little time to acclimate himself to the ring before Rodez's fingerless gloves unleash a barrage of fists into the back of his noggin. Greatly annoyed by the unending storm of strikes, CPA extends his arm to shove his enemy away. But Leon grabs onto his limb and uses it to hurl the bruiser into his (Leon's corner). Just as soon as Allen hits the posts, do Leon's knees slam into his chest like a colossal battering ram. With the wind knocked clear out of him, CPA sinks to the canvas where the leather boots of The Love Machine pound him with dozen of stomps. “LEON! LEON! LEON!” Pleased with his decimation of 4/5 Enterprise members, Rodez finally allows a teammate into the match, D*LUX'S Tyler Bryant. Bryant's appearance is met with much fanfare by the young girls in the arena, who eagerly wave their D*LUX thundersticks in the air. COACH It's about time, Leon Rodez! This isn't a one man show you're running. All your tough-man macho BS is going to cost you if you're stuck near The Enterprise corner late in the match. COLE I have a feeling once Moneymaker gets into the match, Leon will be eager to return to the ring. Bryant tediously hauls his much larger adversary off the canvas. “Hey, Krista, watch this!” He shouts, keen on impressing the fitness model. “Are you watching, Krista? Are you?” He wonders, as he traps Allen into a front facelock for a vertical suplex he couldn't possibly ever manage to execute. “Uh-huh, Maya, I'll help you with your math homework in a sec'.” Krista replies, more concerned with fixing her makeup in her compact mirror. Perhaps if she were paying attention, she'd see Allen reverse Bryant into a vertical suplex of his own. Unwilling to relent on his assault, Allen drags Bryant off the mat, then promptly shoots him back down with a second suplex. Rather then seek the trifecta, Allen moves to his feet, and pours a flood of stomps into Bryant's head. Pain flows swiftly thorough his body, which leads to distressed moans escaping from his lips. Eventually, Allen grabs hold of Bryant's thin black hair and leads him to his feet. He swings the boy over his right shoulder, and clamps onto his left leg, making escape all but impossible. Then Allen jerks down on his victim's trapped leg, slamming him face first into the rock solid canvas. Clutching his bruised nose, Bryant mutters under his breath, partially in pain and partially out of frustration for being bested by this hulking ogre. COACH All this talk about Leon Rodez looking for revenge, or D*LUX looking for revenge. How about CPA looking for revenge after getting screwed, that's right screwed, out of his six man titles! Wrestling is the only sport I know that will allow that kind of crap to take place. Can you imagine if the Phoenix Coyotes showed up to play the Saint Louis Blues, and midway through the second period took off their jerseys to reveal they're the Detroit Red Wings? COLE I know, right. And can you imagine after The Ducks beat the Ottawa Senators for the Stanley Cup if all of a sudden The New York Rangers showed up and said “Sorry, we're you're real opponents!”? Because that's what The Enterprise did to Chicks Over Dicks. Allen scrapes the boybander off the mat, then drives the point of his elbow into his forehead. The attack knocks Bryant loopy and into the waiting treachery of The Enterprise corner. Yearning to bring upon misery to his teenyboppin foe, Theodore Moneymaker reaches over the ropes and hooks onto Ty's thin arms. This allows his bodyguard to ravage Bryant's midsection with unanswered punches. After being subsequently chewed out by Krista over his substandard officiating, Robinson calls for an end to the illegal double teaming. At Moneymaker's orders, Allen begrudgingly capitulates to the ref's demands. COLE The problem with The Enterprise is that they think the rules don't apply to them. As if their money makes them above the OAOAST rulebook! Acting on a renewed spurt of energy, Bryant bursts forward at CPA. But without so much as batting an eye, Allen reaches out and grabs him by the throat. He lifts the startled teen idol with one hand, as his cold eyes regard him with detached amusement. An instant later he slings the boy shoulder first into the ringposts. And as Ty's lifeless body slumps to the floor, Allen casually kicks the carcass to the side. COACH Look at the power CPA is coming with! I bet he eats sandwiches bigger then Tyler Bryant. Despite the astounding pain that paralyzes his shoulder, Bryant fights to his feet to continue his war with CPA. Yet as he stares down the king sized warrior, Tyler quickly realizes he'll need a gift from god to emerge victorious. As God doesn't hear his prayers, Tyler has to settle for the next best thing; Alix Maria Spezia bulldogging CPA into a harmless husk! "YEAAAA!" Robinson does not partake in the crowd's glee, and sternly questions Alix over her misdeeds. The interogation prompts Alix to sing, “I shot the sheriff, but I didn't shoot no deputy Oh, no, oh I shot the sheriff, but I didn't shoot no deputy Ooh, ooh, ooh Yeah. All 'round in ma hometown they're tryin' to track meh down, yeah .They say they want to bring me in guiltaaaay. For the killing of a deputy...for the life of a deputy ” COACH What? Why don't you get on her about cheating, and being above the rulebook? What she did is every bit as illegal if not more so then what The Enterprise has done. COLE But she sung a song! Due to Robinson distraction by karaoke hour at Madison Square Garden, Allen is able to switch places with The Billion Dollar Heir, Theodore Moneymaker. After a brief discussion the duo craft a devious double team, and move quickly to complete it before Robinson loses interest in Alix's American Idol. They trap Bryant into a front facelock, then hook their hands onto his cargo pants in order to drag him into the sky. But the second Bryant is lifted into the air, is the second their double team falls to pieces, as he counters them into a double ddt! "YEAAAA!" Pursuing the offensive, Bryant lashes out with a double dropkick at Moneymaker! His tennis shoes slam into the tycoon like a bullet train knocking him backward into the ring ropes. Sensing that his boss is not cruising towards the auspicious debut he had anticipated, Simon Singleton makes an emergency tag. COLE I don't think Theodore Moneymaker expected his Angleslam debut to go quite that poorly! How long was he in the ring? Six seconds? Leon Rodez can go through nearly the entire Enterprise and Moneymaker can't even make it a quarter of a minute. With grimey face contorted in rage, Simon darts towards Bryant in a berserk fury. Cocking his arm in a single fluid motion, Ty surges forward and cleaves the incoming wrestler to pieces with a leg lariat! Despite the force of the strike, Singleton is able to quickly lift his battered bones off the canvas. However, he isn't capable of stoppung Tyler from hooking his arms around his, and twisting his elevated body behind his back. Without a speck of resistance offered from the Video Voyeur, TyBry thuds him into the canvas with a Vertebreaker! The cheers are enormous for the youngster's deadly strike, and he basks in the appreciation with a solid fist pump. Going by the “one can't grieve forever” motto, Molly tugs on Ned's leg and asks, “Um, If he's irreversibly crippled and/or dead do I still get college credit for this internship?” Meanwhile, The Tremendous one hooks Singleton's outside leg for a pinfall... ONE TWO Double S lifts his shoulder off mere moments before the crucial three count. COLE So close! In odd display of technical know-how, Bryant attempts to choke Singleton into an unconscious blackness with a grounded inverted facelock. But, his efforts yield nothing but failure, as Singleton is easily able to fight to his feet. Though he's upright, the six man champion's submission is still applied. However, Singleton has the anecdote for that problem, and he shifts his body into the air, hopping to flip behind his rival. Ty tries to dash these hopes by bringing Singleton down with a curtain call. But, The Video Voyeur succeeds in his escape attempt, and lands behind Bryant. His hands coil around the boy's slim waist, then bring his entire body into the air for a German Suplex. The cruiserweight is slammed into the canvas with such incredible force that it pulls all semblance of life from his face. As Bryant's teammates watch anxiously, Robinson scores the resulting pinfall... ONE TWO Tremendous Tyler kicks out, allowing an entire arena to breathe a sigh of relief. Unfortunately there's no relief on the horizon for Tyler, as Singleton roughly leads him off the canvas. He contorts Bryant's left arm behind his back, then tucks his head through his right arm. Singleton continues to awkwardly twist his helpless rival by clasping onto his left leg. With Bryant fully under his control, Double S shoots him into the air, then dives backwards. Bryant's arm is snapped against the canvas, and then crushed beneath the descending two hundred thirty pounds of the three time tag team champion. COLE I don't even know what to call that move. COACH I do. I call it “very freaking painful”! Simon moves to his feet with his rugged face possessing a scowl as ferocious as a werewolf. He crouches down, arms outstretched like wings of a bird of prey, and drool dribbling from a mouth that vulgarly demands Bryant stand and face him. COLE That's a look we don't see too often from Simon, and it can't mean anything good for Tyler. The exact second Ty's groggy body plods upright, Singleton pounces with predatory speed. He twirls the boybander around, and before Bryant even has a moment to react, he's being lacerated by a diving lariat! The stiff attack drives Tyler's broken body to the ground, with Singleton landing on top of him a pinning position... ONE TWO Leon Rodez breaks up the fall with an amazingly violent boot to the back of Simon's head. As he watches blood trickle through the unkempt hair of his partner, Ned sees red, and begins to enter the ring to get at Rodez. However he quickly rethinks that course of action when he realizes that Leon is likely to give him the beating of a lifetime. Singleton doesn't seem to suffer from the same bout of cowardice as Ned and engages in a heated argument with the corner based Rodez, frantically pointing to the blood that seeps from his skull. COLE I don't think Simon's going to win any apologies from Leon if that's what he's looking for. After tossing one final insult Rodez's way, Singleton shifts his focus back to his ring based foe. Problematically, his verbal altercation with Rodez granted Tyler enough time to recover his health, and he immediately besieges Simon with knees to the midsection. Unable to stomach the torrent of strikes, Double S frees himself from the assault by Irish whipping Bryant away. Once the teen scream returns to his location, Singleton snakes his legs around his ankles for a drop toe hold. Yet, as he plummets to the canvas Tyler has the wherewithal to slap the outstretched hand of Shayne Brave! COACH You see? Leon had his hand out ready for another tag, and he got straight up denied. He ain't never gonna get one! You tag him in, and he might never tag out. Dude is wrong for that. Unaware that a tag was ever made, Simon is taken by total surprise when Showtime blitzes him with a springboard lariat! As The Video Voyeur struggles to both stand and figure out where the hell Tyler went, his current foe darts to ropes. When he nears Singleton, Showtime soars above his doubled over body, then shoots his legs downward, causing the soles of his boots to smash into Simon's head. “SHAYNE'S A HOTTIE! SHAYNE'S A HOTTIE!” the girls sing. The object of the prepubescent love drags Simon off the mat, then stuns him with a succession of elbows. He leaves his foe dazed and wobbly, and heads towards the ropes, returning with a lou thesz press. But his minuscule bodyweight works to his disadvantage, as it permits Simon to catch him in his arms and step backwards into his corner. Moneymaker spots an opportunity for mischief and clutches onto Brave's highlighted hair. From there and he and his lackey work in unison to drive the youngster throat first into the cables! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" Incensed at the illegal double-team, not to mention the fact she's been largely unfeatured thus far in the match, Krista jumps into the ring and threatens to mash referee Robinson's face if she doesn't get the camera on her soon... I mean, uh, disqualify The Enterprise. Yeah. COLE What, you're not going to call that Coach? An assist from the outside and a hotshot across the top rope, neither legal I might add, to turn the tide of this match. That sound about right to you? COACH Yeah, it was rad huh? As Krista is directed back to the corner, Simon reaches up into his corner looking for a tag from one of his partners. With the ref distracted though, Christian Wright realises there's no point following the rules and is already in the ring, preparing to put the boots to Shayne. So out goes Simon, figuring the effort was good enough. COLE Sure enough, referee Robinson beginning to have some problems keeping ten combatants under control with tempers running so high. Wright drags Shayne to his feet and into the centre of the ring, executing a simple snap suplex. The Natural then calls over the referee as he makes the cover... 1... 2... Leon breaks the count. COACH You know what, maybe Robinson oughta be given some more powers. Like, if somebody continues to jump into the match when they're not legal, he should be allowed to handcuff them to the ropes. Maybe we should give it a trial run tonight. As Leon is shuffled back off to his corner, another legal tag is made on The Enterprise side, which is just as well as this time Robinson does catch it. In comes the CEO, Theodore Moneymaker, booed on his very arrival into the ring. Already laughing to himself, The Billion Dollar Heir pushes himself up onto the second rope, CW holding the boybander in place as his boss brings down a double axehandle to the small of the back. MONEYMAKER "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" COACH There we go, now Teddy's feeling it! COLE I'm feeling something too. COACH Listen, I know he's an impressive man but still, way too much information buddy. COLE I was going to say 'ill', actually. Moneymaker props the boybander up in order to lay in a bodyshot to the... well, the body. Another couple of quick shots connect, backing Shayne up against the ropes and tempting Teddy into an irish whip. On the rebound, Shayne takes a short elbow flush on the jaw and crashes to the canvas, right in place for a FISTFUL OF DOLLARS~! COACH YES! Love that move! Not quite as enamoured is referee Robinson who cautions Moneymaker for the use of a closed fist. The honourable Mr. Moneymaker innocently claims he used an open palm, to which Robinson reminds him the move is called a 'fistdrop' for a reason. Defeated, Moneymaker shoots him a glare as he drags Brave to his feet again. Setting, Teddy lifts Shayne up high for a back suplex, making the teen heartthrob think it over for a couple of seconds before he finally brings him crashing down to earth! It's all looking very comfortable now for The Enterprise, all smiles and applause as Moneymaker lounges back across Shayne's chest, demanding the count... 1... 2... No. Not settling for merely kicking out, Shayne tries straight away to crawl over and make a tag. Moneymaker reacts quickly enough to grab hold of his ankle though, dragging Shayne agonisingly away from his team-mates and into Enterprise territory, where Simon Singleton accepts a foot-tag. Despite the fact his boss has only a tentative hold on the ankle of "Showtime" Shayne, the arrogant Video Voyeur takes his sweet time over entering the ring and dropping a leg across the back of his head, which earns him a little 'peptalk' from The Billion Dollar Heir. Simon's solution? Why, to tell Molly to speed that sequence up in post-production of course! Oh, that wacky Simon Singleton! Production notes out of the way, Singleton resumes with the wrestling as he catches Shayne on the way up with a knee deep in the abdomen. Simon then loads Shayne up, whipping him across the ring and springing up for a standing dropkick... ...NOBODY HOME! Shayne latches his arm around the top rope and stops his momentum. Realising in mid-air he's in trouble Singleton makes a 'cut' signal with his hand even as he plummets hard to the canvas. And Molly eagerly notes it down, forgetting for a second the predicament her hero is in as Shayne reaches out, tagging in KRISTA!! "YYYYEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!" COLE Here we go! Vaulting into the ring, Krista stops for a moment having taken even herself by surprise with her athleticism (on high heels no less!). She plays it cool though, naturally, only posing for four-ish seconds to allow the crowd to take in her brilliance before she goes to work. A lucha-libre shoulder bump puts Singleton on the backfoot, giving Krista the extra second to springboard off the middle rope, twisting around and wiping out The Video Voyeur with a crossbody block! Krista springs back to her feet, making a detour in order to pieface all the members of The Enterprise off the apron. All except CPA that is as the faceshove serves only to PO the bigman. Krista remains a step ahead in the brains department though, fooling the bigman into thinking someone's jumped the barrier before dropkicking the former nightclub bouncer in the back, knocking him off the apron and on top of Blanchard and Wright on the floor! "For real, you one dumb motherfucker." Krista says matter-of-factly... ...forgetting all about Singleton, who sneaks up from behind and knees her in the kidneys. Krista goes tumbling out through the ring ropes, able to catch the middle cable to avoid going all the way to the Garden floor. However, as Singleton is backed away and Krista pulls herself up ready for a springboard, over rushes Theodore Moneymaker. The Billion Dollar Heir aims a Lariat at her shins which is an unorthodox tactic and one K.I.D certainly didn't see coming, her legs getting scythed out from underneath her, causing her to go spiralling forward, FACE-FIRST INTO THE RING APRON!!! "OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" As Krista ends up in a crumpled heap on the arena floor, it's left to poor Charles Robinson to keep the other four members of her team under control. COACH Man, that was a NASTY spill Krista just took! That's what you get for wearing heels in a wrestling ring. COLE Coach, she got clotheslined off the apron. COACH Oh, there's always an excuse isn't there! 'I just got clotheslined officer', 'I only had one drink officer', 'I'm just holding onto it for a friend officer and by the way did you see me in Just My Luck?' The woman's a lush! Deal with it! Lush or no lush Krista certainly looks punch-drunk as she's deposited back into the ring by The Billion Dollar Heir. Simon rushes over and pulls her away from the ropes, looking to take full advantage as he hops over top and makes the cover... 1... FEET ON THE ROPES! 2... MONEYMAKER HOLDS THE FEET! No! COLE That was the most ridiculous cover I've ever seen! There's breaking rules and there's plain desperation. That was the latter. Singleton jumps to his feet and lays in a couple of stomps on the fallen Miss California (1980 something, don't ask don't tell) before noticing an out-stretched hand being waved his way. Despite being squashed moments earlier by CPA, the sight of the mother of his child prone and hurting is the equivalent of a pain-killer for Ned Blanchard. The Beverly Hills Blonds make the exchange and pull Krista to her feet, sending her off the ropes with a double irish whip before separating. A drop toehold by Simon cuts Krista down and Ned follows up with the point of the elbow to the back of the head to further smush Miss Isadora Duncan's stunning features. ALIX D*LUX :( COACH Yo, did Leon misplace his penis or something? That made me sad and I hate Krista. Why? Because I'm a man, answer to both sections a and b of that sentence. Where's the sad face Le-Ro? No sad face. Angry face, sure, as Blanchard takes a hold of Krista's flowing blonde locks and starts grinding her face into the ring canvas like he's juicing a lemon. Referee Robinson soon breaks that up, so Blanchard makes the bold move to go back to wrestling. He pulls Krista up into a camel clutch, just for a second, before tucking forward with a Gedoh Clutch... 1... 2... Broken up by Leon!! COACH For real... handcuffs. This time Robinson has to physically restrain Leon from getting more involved. Ned isn't taking any chances though, tagging Christian Wright back into the match. Always happy to get his hands on Krista, in rushes Wright, pulling her head off the canvas enough to slam it right back down! Krista checks her nose is still in place in her compact mirror. Until Wright snatches it off of her though, dropping it in the centre of the ring and STOMPING IT INTO A HUNDRED PIECES!!! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" "Oh, now it's personal!" warns an irate Alix. "NOW it's PERSONAL!" Wright goes back on the attack as the referee sweeps the broken glass and casing away. Pushing Krista into a corner, Wright delivers a European Uppercut. Embarrasingly, Krista's voluptious frame absorbs most of the impact, forcing CW to quickly gouge her in the eyes before she can strike back. COACH doitagain. please. Apparantly Wright isn't too familiar with women. Behold, he actually chastises Krista for blocking his strike and telling her, if she's going to get them in the way anyway, he'll just do this... *SLAP!* "WHOOOOOOOO!" ...and chops her in the chest! COACH ohbabydon'tstopmoving. COLE You need help man. Wright finally ends the foreplay and tries to whip Krista corner to corner. However, Krista manages to reverse the momentum and swing CW into the turnbuckles instead. As Wright hits the buckles, in follows Krista with a diving forearm which crushes The Natural and gives her partners hope of a resurgeance. Unfortunately though, Krista gets a little too confident and instead of tagging she tries coming off the ropes, paying for it via Theodore Moneymaker's knee in her spine. "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" Off the ropes staggers Krista, right into a recovering CW who lifts her from under the armpits into the WRIGHT OFF!! 1... 2... KICKOUT! COLE Only a two but definately a close one. COACH You know, for a four-time Tag Champ, Krista's pretty selfish huh? COLE Krista? Selfish? Noooooo, I don't believe that for a no shit sherlock of course she is. Getting that sinking feeling all of a sudden, Wright decides to get out while the going is good and bring CPA into the match. The bigman marches into the ring, still pissed at being outsmarted earlier. He roughly hauls Krista to her feet and just manhandles the poor lass into a neutral corner, muscling up and POUNDING Krista's ribcage with a heavy bodyshot. That's enough for Krista and she goes foetal against the bottom turnbuckle before the ex-pro boxer can land any more punches. "KRIS - TA!" "KRIS - TA!" "KRIS - TA!" "KRIS - TA!" MSG lets the KID hear it and so do D*LUX from the corner. Btw, acronyms are cool. Speaking of which, CPA pulls Krista out of the corner, scooping her into his giant arms and slamming her down by the corner. With a nod to his team-mates he then inexplicably climbs to the middle rope, looking to drop the big elbow... ...and MISSING, woefully! "YYYEEEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" COLE Just not smart. D*LUX get the crowd a-clapping as Krista now searches for the tag. Crawling on hands and knees she looks up, to find herself crawling towards the wrong corner entirely. And that setback allows the tag to be made on the opposite side, Ned coming in and cutting off Krista with a knee to the back of the head!! COACH But he had the presence of mind to get that tag, didn't he? CPA's still a rookie in the grap game don't forget, he'll make a few teensie snaffus now and then sure. But Ned's a vet man, he knows what's up. Case in point, he gives Leon a shove in the chest, drawing him into the ring and allowing Simon to come in for a doubleteam. The Beverly Hills Blonds quickly set up Krista for another double irish whip. This time they stay side by side and look for the Double Feature Flapjack. Krista is up and over though, leapfrogging the duo and giving them something to remember them by in two firm ASS GRABS~! The Blonds stand bold upright, Simon looking shocked... and even more shocked when Ned turns to him grinning like a chesire cat! Seeing his partner's point, Ned quickly changes expression to a scowl before the two of them turn around in unison, to get flattened by a Quebrada from Krista!! The Garden come unglued as Krista pushes to her feet with four hands being stretched her way. "Ah hell, my nose is probably broken..." concedes Krista, before begrudgingly... ...TAGGING IN LEON RODEZ!!! "YYYYYEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" COLE LUKEWARM TAG!! COACH Man I hate wrestling. With Ned in his crosshairs Leon dives into the ring, going right after The Handsome Hustler with a flurry of wild right hands. The New York crowd go wild for the few seconds that lasts, before Singleton attacks from behind. Leon is running on adrenaline right now though and barely feels the ambush from Simon, whipping around and striking him hard in the gut with a rolling sole BUTT. By top and tails, Leon then pitches The Video Voyeur forward, causing him to spear his own partner, The Blonds crashing through the ropes to the floor in one Beverly Hills bundle! Moneymaker despairs on the apron, Mackenzie similarly on the outside, as Christian Wright runs in and makes the scene resemble a kung-fu movie even more by soaring through the ropes with an Enziguri helping him on his way! And just to make the point, Alix jumps into the ring and lets out a shrill war cry while adopting the crane position. Which is just plain odd, until Theodore Moneymaker tries to attack and EATS a crane kick, sending him up and over the top rope with his buddies!! "Jackie Chan Chun-Li makes me so wet." confides Alix. (Patty sez:Alix is a lesbian remember, and Jackie Chan isn't too high on a lesiban's too do list. even if he though he has breasts.) "Thanks for that." "Why? You're not Asian Lee-Lee..." Alix asks dead seriously, not waiting around for an answer as she shoots herself over the top rope AND ROLLING ON TOP OF THE ENTERPRISE GUARTET WITH A SOMERSAULT PESCADO!! "YYEEEEEEEAAAAAA..." Unfortunately for Alix, the combined efforts of Wright, Moneymaker, Ned and Simon actually get their stuff together long enough to link arms and CATCH Alix! Leon quickly grabs the ropes and looks to make their teamwork null and void. He needn't worry though, as from out of nowhere, Shayne Brave and Tyler Bryant coming sprinting past him, diving past on opposite side TO CUT DOWN THE ENTERPRISE WITH STEREO TOPÉS!!!!! "...EEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" COLE ...EEEEAAAAHHHHH indeed! D*LUX taking flight right there and that's uncluttered the ring somewhat. Left in said ring are Leon and now CPA, making a move towards The Grand Rapids Golden Child. And I mean a real quick move. Leon is still quick enough to move out of the way though, causing CPA to go steamrollering into the D*LUXLeonCOD corner chest first. Staggering out of the turnbuckles, CPA turns around and gets dropped across the knees with an Inverted Lungblower to further knock the breath from his lungs! Cover... 1... 2... NO! Back up, Leon plays with fire a little as he draws the ex-boxer into a jab! A jab! A jab! A jab! Rodez turns, blowing the kiss, before turning back on his heels... *SMACK!* ...AND GETTING KOed WITH A HUGE RIGHT CROSS!!! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" COACH CPA SAID KNOCK YOU OUT! Lucky for Rodez, the force of the punch sends him rolling underneath the bottom rope to the floor where he can't be pinned. With an angry grunt, CPA follows after The Silky Smooth One, just as D*LUX had sent Christian Wright back into the ring. Together, D*LUX back Wright up into the ropes with some kicks and some punches before sending him off with an irish whip. The boybanders link arms hoping for a double back elbow. And although they miss with that attempt, they're ready for the double lariat from The Natural, hooking both of his arms and driving him across the knees with the Cowell Movement! COLE The tag team specialists have a man isolated, here's the cover, could this do it? 1... 2... Kickout! D*LUX pool their resources again and look for another double team on The Natural. After a snapmare by Tyler, the duo come off opposite ropes looking for the stereo dropkicks. However, Tyler's run is impeded by Mackenzie DeCenzo, reaching into the ring and snatching the leg of The Tremendous One! Tyler is distracted by this and so is Shayne, coming to a stop next to Wright who quickly shoots out his legs and wraps Shayne up into a Texas Cloverleaf!! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" COLE Look at this, Tyler distracted! And Shayne Brave is trapped! COACH That's how you deal with sexually frustrated white boys, right there! Grind it Mackie! As Mackie does her level best to keep Bryant occupied, shouts of pain start to pour out of his tag team partner's mouth. Wright sits back on the hold in an attempt to force a quick submission. But Tyler is aware of his partner's predicament and brushes off Mackenzie, turning around... *SMACK!* ...and landing with a SHINING ENZIGURI on CWii "YYEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!" As Wright slumps forward and Shayne's legs untangle themselves, Tyler has little time to be pleased with himself over the save. CPA has since rolled back into the ring. And as Tyler turns around to check on his tag partner's condition, he finds a burly bodyguard standing in his way. Standing in his way and lifting him up... ...and then just DECIMATING him with a Front Spinebuster!!! "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" COACH Oh-ho-HO! Whiplash city baby! COLE Tyler Bryant's head just bounced off the canvas like a rubber ball right there. However, with the frenetic pace of the match, CPA doesn't have any time to dwell on his big move. But dwell on it he does and after putting some badmouth down on the fallen boybander, the bigman is warned to turn around by Mackie. By the time he does though, Alix is already up top and soaring towards him, wrapping her perfect pins around his head and taking him over with a Flying Hurricanrana!!! "YYYEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" Inexplicably (par for the course, I realise, but work with me), Alix decides now would be the perfect time to launch into a lengthy song and dance routine. Calling to one of the many people crowded around the timekeeper's table, all of whom have no actual work to be doing, Alix recieves a pre-prepared black cane encursted with sparkling jewels that spell out the name 'ALIX' and starts can-canning, to the delight of the MSG crowd! "Buh-buh-bahbahbah, buh-buh-bahbahbah, buh-buh-bahbahbah BA... START SPREADING THE NEW... UGH!!" Unfortunately, a firm knee in the spine from Theodore Moneymaker brings a premature end to her rendition of "New York, New York", whipping the crowd into a frenzy. As Alix goes crashing to the arena floor, Moneymaker makes with the "money fingers" and generally rubs it in the face of the fans. Watched from across the ring by Krista Isadora Duncan. COACH Uh... Teddy. TEDDY! TURN AROUND! Fortunately for Theo, he's actually facing out on Coach's side of the ring and just about hears what the lowly commentator has to say. Not so fortunately, he hears it just in time to get leg lariated in the face and sent out of the ring in similarly unceremonial fashion. "KRIS - TA!" "KRIS - TA!" "KRIS - TA!" "KRIS - TA!" Bending down, Krista picks up the cane Alix had left behind and raises her eyebrows, giving the cane a look that I'm not going to describe because I'm a family man. Well, not really. But I'm bashful. Krista throws the cane onto the announce table and demands Coach and Cole "keep that safe for me", before turning back to the action. However, as everyone seems to have fallen into the habit of, she turns right into an oncoming attack... *SMACK!* "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" ...as Ned Blanchard strikes her in the back of the head with the 90210 Enziguri! COACH YO~! She just got straight 90210WNED~! Blanchard dives on top of Krista like... well, the previous time he dived on top of Krista, eagerly and foaming from the mouth... 1... 2... SAVE BY LEON!! Furious, Ned marches to his feet... and comes to a screeching halt when he sees Leon Rodez right in front of his face. NED Eep. Rodez suddenly unloads with right hands on The Handsome Hustler, the red-hot New York crowd turning themselves up yet another few degrees. Backing Ned up, Rodez sends his man for the right and delivers on a HIGH BAAAAAAACK bodydrop!! Ned rolls to his knees and begs off, to which Leon responds with a firm Bionic Elbow to the top of the head. And another. Another. Another. Ned is to his feet by now and still taking elbows, before another whip sends him in. This time, Leon springs up and connects with a Standing Dropkick, almost turning Ned inside out on impact. RODEZ COME OOOOOONNNNN!!! "YYEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!" With everyone else down or otherwise pre-occupied, it looks like the match has suddenly come down to Blanchard and Rodez. Which is bad news for Blanchard as he stumbles to his feet. Finding himself by the ropes, Ned realises he needs to turn around and does so, met with a boot to the gut from Leon and set up for the Shiranui... ...NO! Ned manages to push Leon off into the turnbuckles chest first, leading to a collision of heads as Rodez rebounds out unexpectedly. COLE Oh! Both men go down, we've got battles all around the ring, people strewn around the ring. This is turning chaotic here, I think the referee has given up on these ten and just said to hell with it, let's let 'em go! COACH Much as I hate to admit it, it's the right call. As Ned checks his teeth are in place, the ladies at ringside realise they have to do something with Leon recovering quickly. Actually, correction. Lady. With Molly busy recording her man Singleton getting the jeri-curls pounded off of him by Shayne Brave, despite his pained pleas not to I might add and with Mackenzie DeCenzo in dreamland watching Alix and CW going at it, it's left to Jade Rodez to begrudingly take the lead and climb to the ring apron to provide a distraction. COLE Aw no. This is one thing the referee should be getting on here, Jade has to get down from there. Sure enough, Leon's attention is taken, long enough for Blanchard to attack from behind with a double axehandl...NO! Leon sidesteps... ...AND JADE GETS KNOCKED OFF THE APRON TO THE FLOOR!!!!! "YYYYEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" COACH NO! COLE Well, don't say I didn't warn you. Jade hits the solid Garden ground hard and grabs her tailbone in pain, while Blanchard takes the opportunity to catch her still distracted brother with a desperate Lariat! Down goes Leon in a heap. But Ned simply can't follow up, unable to help himself from rolling out of the ring to check on the fallen Jade. COACH Man, have some compassion would you? Jade could be hurt bad. COLE We've been down this road before Coach. COACH You're a chauvonist is all. At least Ned is a gentleman. Clearly concerned about Jade's tailbone, Ned tries to help her upright. And gets a good old handful in doing so I might add. Jade clearly doesn't appreciate that and swats Ned's hand from her backside, tending to the sore spot herself. Ned's offer to rub it better gets another swat away from Jade, already angry at basically being groped by The Handsome Hustler. COLE Oh yeah, real gentleman. As Jade continues to nurse her lower back, Ned looks around. Leon is still down and crawling into the ring behind him is Theodore Moneymaker, arms outstretched ready to lock the Silky Smooth One in the Bank Vault. Which is the perfect opportunity for The Handsome Hustler. Reaching into his tights, Ned tries to apologise for his misdemeanour with Jade by flashing a wad of dollar bills in her face. And it's fair to say, she's not impressed. *SLAP!!* Not impressed at all. "YYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" COLE ALRIGHT! WAY TO GO JADE! COACH Down goes Ned from the thunderous slap, causing Moneymaker to stop dead in his tracks just short of Leon. Away crawls The Silky Smooth One as Moneymaker leans over the ropes and starts to spew a stream of obscenities at Jade for her actions. Jade just takes one long, disgusted look at Moneymaker, before reaching down, collecting up the wad of cash AND TEARING THEM CLEAN IN HALF, THROWING THE REMNANTS IN THE AIR LIKE CONFETTI!!!!!!! "YYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" COACH OH! OH NO SHE DID NOT! OH NO SHE DID JUST NOT DO THAT! COLE I think the deal's off!! With the MSG crowd going positively wild, the shell-shocked Moneymaker turns around and gets deadlifted up onto the back of Leon Rodez. Walking into the centre of the ring, the beaming Rodez gives some last words to The Billion Dollar Heir, before sitting out, spiking his jaw across his shoulder!! COLE BANANA HAMMOCK!! COACH NO! Cover by Leon, Jade counting along... 1... 2... 3!!!!!! COLE YES! YES! YES, IT'S OVER! COACH This isn't happening. This is all a nightmare, a horrible horrible nightmare... *DINGDINGDING!* The shareef don't like it Rock the Casbah Rock the Casbah BUFFER Ladies and gentlemen, your winners of this contest... the team consisting of D*LUX, OAOAST Tag Team Champions KRISTA ISADORA DUNCAN and ALIX MARIA SPEZIA... and, "SILKY SMOOTH" LLLLEEEEOOOONN RRRRRRROOOOOOODDEEEEEEZZZZZZZ!!!!! Stepping over the quivering body of Ned Blanchard, Jade slides into the ring. And after an awkward look exchanged with her brother, the past four months are suddenly forgotten as Leon and Jade embrace in the centre of the ring!!! "YYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" COACH I think I'm going to be sick Mikey. No fooling, I gotta vomit and hard. COLE What a special moment here at AngleSlam 2007! Finally, thank God, Jade Rodez has finally seen the light!! Hallelujah!! COACH That should be Ned in those arms damnit! Having been dragged from the ring, Moneymaker is dragged away by the rest of the disbelieving Enterprise. Blanchard is dragged away too, on the verge of tears and now D*LUX get in on the hugfest, re-united with their manager who is also close to tears and seen mouthing the words "I'm so sorry" over and over again. On the outside of the ring stand Chicks Over Dicks, not getting drawn into the re-uniting process just yet. COLE Things continue to go from bad to worse for The Enterprise. No titles and now, they're leverage over these five individuals is gone. All is right with the world, unless you're part of The Enterprise that is. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Patty O'Green 0 Report post Posted January 4, 2008 PPV MOTY WINNER#2 AnglePalooza: Survive Or Surrender, Zack Malibu Vs Bruce Blank In the arena, we hear the crowd POP~!, because what they're seeing on the AngleTron is what's going on backstage...namely ZACK MALIBU and CANDIE walking into the arena. Zack is uncharacteristically quiet, while Candie is a bit somber, not looking forward to what her boyfriend has in store for him tonight. After exchanging pleasantries with several people, they round the corner...and Malibu comes face to face with a man that he hates just as much as Bruce Blank. The OAOAST World Heavyweight Champion, Drek Stone! It's an uncomfortable moment, as Zack waits for Drek to say something, but Drek just smirks at him and Candie. After a moment of akward silence, Drek places a hand on Zack's shoulder, and in a mocking tone, offers two words of encouragement... "Good luck." To Drek, that's the funniest thing in the world, as he chuckles and walks away, leaving Zack and Candie to glare at him as he disappears. (Cut to Double C.) COLE Well, it looks like the OAOAST Champion IS in the building tonight! COACH Mmm-hmmm. But I think he's here for only one reason, and one reason only: to witness the end of Zack Malibu's career! COLE I sure hope Drek isn't siding with Bruce Blank tonight! COACH Who knows, Cole? His hatred for Zack Malibu may just force him to root for Bruce. COLE At any rate, Drek Stone is here, and so is Zack, and in just a few moments, Zack Malibu will step into the ring for quite possibly the very last time as he takes on Bruce Blank in a Survive Or Surrender Match! The OAOAST Anglepalooza 2007 logo flashes across the screen. The match-up graphic for the Zack Malibu/Bruce Blank Survive Or Surrender Match appears on screen. The crowd EXPLODES~! They're the loudest they've been all night, and it shows just what match the fans are looking forward to the most at Anglepalooza 2007. COLE A bitter, personal rivalry will come to an end. Since May of 2006, Bruce Blank and the other Wildcards have wreaked havoc on the One And Only AngleSault Thread. They, HE, has laid out opponent after opponent, INCLUDING Zack! Zack has never beaten Bruce in a one-on-one match. Can that all change tonight in a match that BOTH men must win if they want to wrestle another day? COACH I'm getting goosebumps right now, Michael. This is the big one! This is the moment we've all been waiting for! It's gonna happen! Either Zack leaves, or Bruce leaves! Either way, this is going to be a bloody, brutal battle and I can't wait! Get him for me, Zack! COLE The most anticipated match in Anglepalooza history is about to begin. Zack has yet to defeat his fiercest rival, will he finally be able to get the "W" tonight when he needs it the most? The whole world is watching this historic match. The time has come. The demeanor of the crowd is mixed as the lights dim, and the specially made steel cage for the Survive or Surrender match is lowered over the ring. Will the hometown hero gain his ultimate retribution against his most hated rival, or will the most reviled man in wrestling score the greatest win of his career, and send the OAOAST's favorite son into a forced retirement from the business he loves? Tonight, one man will survive, and one will surrender...and whoever surrenders will be surrendering not just a victory, but their career, and their lifeblood, to their foe. COLE It's the calm before the storm here right now fans, as everyone in the arena, and by that I mean the people in the stands, in the locker room, and here at ringside await the closing chapter of the most brutal feud in OAOAST history. COACH Ain't no comin' back for this one, Mikey Cole. We in Zack's house, his hometown, and tonight, he's puttin' it all on the line in front of his friends and family for one simple reason: REVENGE. COLE Tonight, one man's career will end inside the four walls of the cage you see being placed around the ring. Notice that the cage is specially made to attatch to the ring apron instead of the normal encasing of the entire ring, in order to prevent any possible interference from people hiding out under the ring. Keep in mind that there is no door on any of the four walls, and the roof is fully intact. Once the combatants are inside the cage, it will be fully lowered over them, and will not rise until one man has been deemed victorious. The cameras scan the crowd as the paying customers flock back to their seats, not one of them wanting to miss a minute of the action. COACH We got a lot of people here in attendance tonight too, Cole. A lot of friends and enemies of Zack Malibu can't believe he's going through with this. COLE Personally Coach, I still can't believe he's going through with this. I've known Zack Malibu since the moment he set foot in the OAOAST. At one point, you could have considered me a sidekick to The In Crowd. Tonight we see people like Sly Sommers, who has made his intentions clear as to why he's looking forward to this match. Calvin Szechstein, currently on Zack's good side despite their past dealings. Peter Knight, a man who just last year cost Zack Malibu the Lethal Rumble at this very event, and even the original In Crowd members EvenflowDDT and The Superstar sitting, watching, and waiting. We have Zack's personal friends, his family, all in attendance. Friend or foe, you have to respect what Zack Malibu's done for this company, and no one wants it to end. He's going up against a man he's never beaten, a man who will show no mercy or remorse, and is going to treat this match as his bloody playground. Zack Malibu, for all he's accomplished, may have bitten off more than he can chew. With those cryptic words uttered, the camera closes in on ring announcer Michael Buffer walking up the ring steps, and the crowd starts to buzz, as they know the match is mere moments away. MICHAEL BUFFER Ladies and gentlemen, ARE YOU READY!? YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!! MICHAEL BUFFER Providence, Rhode Island ARE...YOU...READY?? YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!! MICHAEL BUFFER Then for the thousands in this arena and the millions watching across the globe, LETS GET READY TO RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMBLEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! OAO-AST!! OAO-AST!! OAO-AST!! OAO-AST!! OAO-AST!! MICHAEL COLE They are fired up, Coach! It seems like Providence is going into this with a positive attitude! COACH No doubt, because this may be the last time we have to tolerate Bruce Blank in an OAOAST ring! MICHAEL COLE Please dear God let it be so! MICHAEL BUFFER Ladies and gentlemen, and the viewing public watching live on pay-per-view, THIS is the SURVIVE OR SURRENDER MATCH! Notice that the cage above the ring has been constructed with four solid walls of steel mesh, and a roof over it. There is no door, and thus, no entry. Once both participants have entered the ring, the cage will be lowered over the ring, and attatched to the ring apron. The only way to win is for one man to quit...submit...SURRENDER. Tonight, their are no titles at stake in this contest, but the careers of Zack Malibu and Bruce Blank lay in each other's hands. One man will emerge victorious, and seal the fate of his eternal foe. The loser, however, will be served his walking papers, and have his career ended! It is a battle of pride, and of redemption, and now...the participants. MICHAEL COLE I'm torn Coach, I mean I want Zack to win and get rid of Bruce, but he's making the gamble of his life here, he could lose everything he holds near and dear to him. COACH I admire Malibu's gut but you've got to remember that Blank has really done a number on Zack more or less every time they've met, he really has gotten Zack rattled. We could be saying good bye to Zack tonight. MICHAEL BUFFER Introducing first... ZACK!! ZACK!! ZACK!! ZACK!! ZACK!! ZACK!! ZACK!! The chants are heavy and strong, as the crowd waits for the hometown hero to appear. The lights drop, and the chant turns to a roar, as... "BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNG" The ringing into to the "Saved By The Bell" theme song booms through the arena, and cuts quickly to the chorus of Eminem's "Til' I Collapse"... "Till the roof comes off, till the lights go out Till my legs give out, can't shut my mouth. Till the smoke clears out and my high wear out I'ma rip this shit till my bone collapse." Which then cuts to... "(Wake me up) Wake me up inside (I can't wake up) Wake me up inside (Save me) call my name and save me from the dark..." After that, both the music and the lights totally shut down, leaving the arena cloaked in darkness. Some people use their cellphones or lighters for visual aid, but within seconds they're not needed, as the AngleTron shines bright once again, and the bass line for "Getting Away With Murder" kicks in. *FWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSHHHH!!* *FWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSHHHH!!* *FWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSHHHH!!* The distant shot that captures the cage slowly lowering as Zack Malibu steps into the arena serves as a poignant reminder of the hell that awaits Zack Malibu. ”Somewhere beyond happiness and sadness I need to calculate what creates my own madness And I'm addicted to your punishment And you're the master, and I am waiting for disaster” BUFFER From PROVIDENCE, RHODE ISLAND, he weighs in tonight at two hundred and five pounds...he is ZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLIBUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU! The look on Zack's face is equal parts anger and frustration and anticipation as he pauses on the top of the ramp for a second to soak up the absolutely atomic crowd reaction. In what is a departure from Malibu's normal attire Mr. OAOAST has both his hands heavily taped up all the way to his elbow pads, probably both for protection against the cage but also for added impact against Bruce. Gone are the standard wrestling tights as attire, as tonight, Malibu comes out clad in blue jeans and an OAOAST logo T-shirt, proudly wearing the name of the company he loves across his chest. MICHAEL COLE This man has been through the wars for the last three quarters of a year, he's been to hell and back fighting with the Wildcards and tonight it all comes to an end, one way or the other. COACH You know at first I really though he had it coming, after all *HE* brought the Wildcards into the OAOAST, but those sick bastards crossed the line when they entered the Malibu home and intimidated his girlfriend and their newborn daughter. MICHAEL COLE And when the Coach thinks you've gone to far then you must be really depraved. ”I feel irrational, so confrontational To tell the truth I am getting away with murder It is impossible to never tell the truth But the reality is I'm getting away with murder” Instead of sliding through the 2 foot gap between the ring apron and the dangling cage Zack circles the ring as he almost shakes with anticipation and anger. While several fans reach out and pad him on the shoulders or shout words of encouragement the usually fan friendly Zack Malibu doesn't respond, no high fives, no gestures, he's in a world of his own with only one goal. ”Getting away, getting away, getting away” MICHAEL BUFFER And his opponent... BLANK SUCKS!! BLANK SUCKS!! BLANK SUCKS!! BLANK SUCKS!! The chants drown out Michael Buffer for a moment, while Zack paces back and forth on the far side of the ring. Zack waits impatiently like a caged tiger, even though he's technically not caged yet. MICHAEL BUFFER Approaching the ring at this time, he is the leader of the group known as The Wildcards. Weighing in tonight at an even three hundred pounds, he is BRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCE BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANK!!” The opening guitar warble alerts everyone that Bruce Blank is about to enter the arena, and the expected reaction ensues, as Blank walking into Providence is like a KKK member walking the streets of Harlem. "I walk a lonely road The only one that I have ever known Don't know where it goes But it's home to me and I walk alone“ WHIIIIIIIIIIIITE TRASH!! WHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITE TRASH!! After a moment or two of Green Day playing the crowds attention is drawn to the side of the entrance set up as they hear a loud truck horn play “I wish I was in Dixie” as an engine revs up. "I walk this empty street On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams Where the city sleeps and I'm the only one and I walk alone" Instead of walking down the entrance Bruce appears on the back of a huge Ford F350 Pick-Up truck with one hand on the roll bar and another holding a beer up high in the air as he grins in anticipation, this is his night it would seem. His newly acquired ride complete with sparking chrome, a crisp black paint job that's accentuated by airbrushed blue flames licking down each side of the trunk and “King of Pain” written across the hood really screams of how confident Bruce Blank is tonight. MICHAEL COLE Trust him to make a big pompous entrance, even in Zack Malibu's own hometown! COACH Well now they have something to drive him away in after the match is over, Cole. "I walk alone I walk alone" WHIIIIIIIIIIIIIITE TRASH!! WHIIIIIIIIIIIIITE TRASH!! Bruce doesn't seem to even hear the chants from the crowd, and as the pick up truck brings him to the ring in style, he's busy drinking a beer and holding on to the moving truck. Once the truck stops Bruce turns to the fans and raises both arms in the air, taking an early crack at celebrating the victory he's been predicting all along. COACH Bruce seems awfully confident here, yeah he's got a new car and yes he's the self proclaimed “King of Pain” but it'll take more than that to win this match. MICHAEL COLE Well he may have proclaimed himself the King of Pain but tonight he either earns the name or leaves the federation. "I walk alone I walk a... " As Blank poses on the roof of the truck, basking in the hatred of the Rhode Island crowd, Malibu's patience wears thin. The Preppy One races across the ring and makes a clean leap onto the top rope, and springboards off with a dive that knocks Bruce off the roof of the truck and down into the bed, along with Malibu as well! MICHAEL COLE HE CAN'T WAIT!! "My shadow's the only one that walks beside me My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me 'Til then I walk alone" The music quickly cuts out, as Malibu stands up and takes Bruce Blank by the head, ramming it into the roof of his new ride! Malibu then spins Blank around and pins him against the back window of the truck, hammering away with those taped fists of his as the crowd hits a complete uproar! MICHAEL COLE Malibu is going completely kamikaze on Bruce Blank!! COACH Get that sucka, Zack! Malibu pounds on the redneck, much to the crowd's delight...but when he pulls him up Blank charges forward, wrapping his thick arms around Zack's waist in the process! He pushes forward, and together Zack and Bruce spill out of the bed of the truck and into the aisleway! Once they hit the floor they seperate, and take a moment to regain their composure. They both rise to their feet, and Zack fires off those patented right hands, staggering the big man...until a knee to the stomach doubles him over! Bruce then pounds on Zack with forearm shots across the back, and takes him by the head, swinging him around and sending him into the guardrail! The small of Zack's back crashes against the metallic barrier, and Blank takes advantage of his stunned state of mind when he rushes forward and blasts Zack with a hard lariat that topples him over the guardrail, into the sea of fans! COLE Zack just got dumped into the crowd, and Blank is following suit! COACH That man don't wanna be in THIS crowd...he's on Zack's turf tonight! Bruce steps over the railing, and immediately he's crowded by the fans...and he starts shoving ticket buyers left and right, paving a way towards Zack Malibu! Frightened and intimidated, the rest of the crowd backs off as Blank comes at Zack, who has his back turned...and blasts him with a shot between the shoulder blades knocking him down again! Blank snickers as he pulls Zack right back up, and he turns Zack around and walks him towards the guardrail...then lifts him up and drops him across it, crotching him on the unforgiving steel! COLE This match is not even underway yet, and Zack Malibu is already being forced to suffer by that madman! COACH They gotta get in the cage! COLE Are YOU going to tell them that? COACH Me? No...I mean, I was just sayin'. Blank shoves Zack off the guardrail and back into the aisleway, brushing off the fans who still dare to come near him. Blank follows Zack over, and again picks Malibu up before he's fully recovered, this time taking him by the back of his neck and running him forward, face first into the back of his pickup truck! COLE Blank is doing a number on Malibu here, he's softening him up! He doesn't want to be inside that cage, because there'll be nowhere for him to run! He thinks that by doing this, he'll have it easy! COACH Easy? Playa's playin' himself if he thinks that after what he's done, that this is gonna be easy! The crowd is still electric, booing even the slightest motions made by the Southern sadist. Yet again, Blank pulls Zack up, treating him like a playtoy...and he drives that point home even further by lifting Zack up over his head in a military press...and then showing off his strength by doing reps with the smaller Malibu in his grasp! COLE Look at him, rubbing it in everyone's face! Blank laughs as he shows off his power, but then winces in pain as Malibu digs his fingernails into his eyes and rakes them, causing Blank to drop him from the press! Zack lands behind Bruce, and powers up to his feet, coming back with a running kick that strikes Blank between the legs and doubles him over! "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!" COACH I hope he don't plan on rubbing THAT in anyone's face anytime soon! Bruce is stunned, and Malibu quickly calls to the fans, HIS fans, for a chair. One in particular hands one to Zack, and he takes it as quickly as he asked for it, using it to hit a hard shot across the shoulder blades of Bruce Blank! The big man drops, but grabs onto the back of his truck and pulls himself up, his eyes burning with anger as he turns around...and gets BLASTED with a hard shot across the head that knocks him against his truck! Blank slouches down into a seated position, but Malibu doesn't let up, as he goes over to Blank with the chair held vertically, and drives the edge of it into his throat, trying to drive the life out of his hated rival as he lay bleeding in the aisleway! COLE Zack's drawn first blood, because Bruce is busted open...and they're STILL not inside the cage yet! Referee Nick Patrick, and a slew of OAOAST road agents and staff flock to the aisleway, trying to seperate Zack and Bruce and get them into the ring. Zack pulls back and clutches the chair menacingly, looking ready to hit anyone within reaching distance. The agents and Patrick scatter, trying to plead with Zack, and several of them form a wall, blocking Zack from getting to Bruce once again, which doesn't get a positive reaction from the fans. COLE The fans came to see Survive Or Surrender, but they don't want this brawl to end! Malibu is pushed towards the ring by Patrick and several others, and reluctantly abides. He slides the chair in under the bottom rope and then hops up on the apron, waiting on Blank. He looks like he's ready to dive onto EVERYONE, but thinks better of the move and backs off, entering the ring and circling it, taking a moment to soak in the adulation of his applauding fanbase. Meanwhile, Blank is getting up, and when he does he's FURIOUS, and he starts cleaning house on the staff! Clobbering rights and lefts, the ruthless redneck is crazed in his efforts, as the blood flow has drawn out a bit of rage. He wipes his forehead and looks into the ring, disgusted, at Zack, and he charges the ring, sliding into it and FINALLY causing the bell to ring! DING! DING! DING! COACH FINALLY! COLE HERE WE GO, COACH! As soon as Bruce slides into the ring, the cage begins to lower around he and Zack, and Nick Patrick quickly rolls into the ring, weilding the microphone that will broadcast the surrender of one of these men. Zack works over Blank as he slides in, kicking him in the back of the head repeatedly before picking him up and shoving him into the ropes. Bruce bounces forward after hitting the ropes, and Malibu hits an inverted atomic drop, once again staggering Bruce due to its effect on his manhood...and then Zack starts biting him over the eye, digging his teeth into the flesh of his rival! COACH He's gone cannibal, Cole! Bruce shouts out in agony, and uses his power advantage to shove Zack to the mat, saving himself from any more pain. Zack rolls through and pops right back up to his feet though, and comes at him and starts biting AGAIN, causing Blank to scream once again! COACH He's hurting, Cole! You think he's ready to surrender? COLE I think we've got a ways to go, Coach. Blank uses his leverage advantage, and manages to push Zack into a corner even while he's being bitten by the hometown hero. Blank manages to pull away, then rams his knee into Zack's ribcage, then drops low and drives his shoulders into his ribcage once, twice, three, four, FIVE times, driving all of the air out of Zack's lungs! Malibu gasps for air, and is stuck in the corner as Blank pulls himself up...and now HE starts biting ZACK! COLE Ugh, no! Blank chews on the skin over Zack's eye, and it doesn't take much time for that tactic to draw blood. Zack looks like he's crying crimson tears as the blood drops off his face and stains the canvas, and Blank leads him out of the corner and sends him into the ropes, nailing him with a big boot on the rebound! Zack goes down, and now Bruce eyes the steel chair that Zack slid into the ring when he entered, and it's now in the hands of the Redneck Superman, who picks it up and drives the edge of it into Zack's throat, trying to choke Zack just as Zack did to him earlier in the aisleway! "C'mon boy, surrender! Make it easy on yourself!" Blank stands over Zack, choking the life out of him, and ordering him to give up. Zack moans and groans, but never do any words form, and certainly not any that would cause him to lose this contest, and his career in the OAOAST. Blank pulls the chair off his throat, but with it still held vertically, drives the edge of it into Zack's ribcage repeatedly, causing Malibu to curl up into the fetal position and cough up a lung! COLE The use of that chair is perfectly legal. The biting, the eye gouging, the low blows...whatever these two men need to do in order to make the other give up, they CAN do. Nick Patrick's not going to stop them, and the cage is there so that no one else attempts to stop them. Given what we've seen in the past from these two men, and even with what we've seen in the past ten or so minutes, we know what they're capable of, but the question remains...what will it take to get one of these men to surrender his life in wrestling, and swallow the bitter pill of losing professional wrestling's most brutal feud? Blank throws the chair aside, stalking Malibu as the prep lay on the mat, coughing. Blank reaches down and pulls Zack up, and once he's on his feet Bruce runs him forward a few steps, then biels him into the wall of the cage, backing off as Malibu collides face first with the mesh! Zack bounces back and lands on all fours, and Bruce steps over him, then reaches under his chin and yanks back on his head, then with his free arm blasts him with a hard crossface shot! Blank switches hands, and then utilizes the same tactic, blasting Zack across the side of his face with another hard crossface shot. Blank then yanks back on Zack's head again with a rear chinlock, and then moves his fingers into Zack's open mouth, stretching his cheeks out as if he were trying to peel the skin off of Zack's face! COACH He's sick, Cole, sick! Zack is in pain, and Patrick remains close, in case the former OAOAST World Champion can't take it anymore and decides to submit. Blank looks down at Zack, tearing at his face, and moving off of his back. He pulls Zack up, still with his fingers jammed into his mouth, and as Zack forces himself to stand up, Blank violently pulls back, snapping Zack to the canvas! The back of Malibu's head bounces off of the ringmat, and Bruce runs the ropes, delivering a huge legdrop to Malibu! COLE Bruce just dropped that tree trunk across Zack's throat, and...now look at this! After hitting the legdrop, Bruce kneels over Zack, taking him by the head and viciously rams it repeatedly into the canvas. Bruce sneers as he stares at Zack, telling him "I'm gonna make you quit, you son of a bitch!" before he brings him up and whips him into the corner. Bruce charges in, and he connects with a hard running lariat that smashes Zack against the turnbuckles! Zack flops forward after contact, but Bruce takes him by the head and runs him across the ring, sending him face first into the top turnbuckle! Malibu is stuck in a fog, unable to clear the cobwebs, as Blank spins him around and pins him in the corner, then takes his boot and jams it into Zack's throat, AGAIN going back to a choking tactic to try and wear Malibu out! COLE If he can't get air, he can't get energized! Bruce Blank knows he cannot afford to let Zack get any momentum, because if Zack manages to get on a roll, that rage that's been burning inside him for nearly a year is going to come out, and I don't know if even Bruce Blank could withstand what Zack Malibu would like to do to him! Bruce releases, and backs away, leaving Malibu to his own devices, aching in the corner. Blank circles the ring, his evil eyes visible under the crimson mask as he stares at Malibu, and then reaches into his boot. COACH What's he doin'...he ain't strapped is he!? COLE For the love of God, Coach...I hope not. After a moment or two of digging, Bruce comes up not with a firearm, but with a spike! The crowd gasps in horror as he approaches Malibu, ready to strike with the spike... ...but before it can come down and stab him, Malibu grabs the wrist of his rival, trying desperately to keep him at bay! COLE He just tried to implant that spike into his head, and thank God Malibu saw it coming! Zack grabs Bruce's wrist with both of his hands, trying to force the spike back, as it looms dangerously close to his eye. Malibu climbs up onto the turnbuckles, sitting on the top rope in order to gain leverage against his larger foe, and manages to nail Blank in the side of the head with an elbow! And another one! And a third! Bruce staggers, but he still tries forcing the spike into Malibu's face, although another elbow shot dazes him long enough for Malibu to kick off of the turnbuckles, and bring him down with a tornado single arm DDT! COLE He brought him down! Blank is stunned, and crawls on all fours, searching for the spike that he dropped...but as he crawls to the feet of Zack Malibu, he sees that the spike is in the hands of the man who wishes him dead! COACH Aw snap, he's in for it now. Blank comes up on his knees, and puts his hands up, pleading with Zack not to do it...but mercy is not in Malibu's vocabulary as he takes Blank by the head and digs the sharp end of the spike into his forehead, slicing him open! COLE Never in my life have I felt an individual deserved to be victimized like this, but you've had it coming, Bruce Blank! F*CK HIM UP ZACK F*CK HIM UP!! *Clap!Clap!-Clap!* F*CK HIM UP ZACK F*CK HIM UP!! *Clap!Clap!-Clap!* F*CK HIM UP ZACK F*CK HIM UP!! *Clap!Clap!-Clap!* F*CK HIM UP ZACK F*CK HIM UP!! *Clap!Clap!-Clap!* While people like Sly Sommers and Peter Knight are probably rolling their eyes as they watch on, the vast majority of the crowd inside the Dunkin' Donuts Center is egging Malibu on, motivating him to destroy the career of the man who has tried to destroy his life. After having his forehead carved like a Thanksgiving turkey, Blank pulls himself away from Malibu, nearly collapsing due to the wear and tear and excessive blood loss. Zack has other ideas though, as he stalks his rivals and pulls him up by his greasy, blood soaked hair and runs him towards the wall of the cage, sending him into it face first! Blank falls back, landing on one knee, and Zack hits the ropes, coming back and connecting with a basement dropkick to the chin of Bruce, dropping him on his back! Malibu then mounts Bruce's shoulders, still clutching the spike, and now looks to drive the proverbial stake through the heart of the vampire, as he inches the spike even closer to Bruce's eye! COACH I'd make a See No Evil joke here, but I don't think it's the time. Malibu brings the spike forward, aiming the pointed tip at Bruce's right eye! Bruce is able to get a hand up at the last moment to block the attempted blinding and holds the spike off, his arm shaking as he musters all the strength he can. Malibu again uses the leverage advantage and leans forward, putting a lot of pressure on Bruce's arm still trying to force the spike into Bruce's eye! Out of sheer desperation, Blank rolls and throws Malibu off of him, the spike sent rolling across the canvas after the break. Malibu quickly gets on top again and this time starts using his fists to do the dirty work, being sure to never let up as the crowd roars with approval. Once again though, Blank shoves Zack off of him and then rolls onto all fours, and when Zack approaches again, he's rocked by a low blow! "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!" Zack drops to his knees just as fast as his jaw dropped due to the impact of the shot! Bruce uses the ropes to pull himself up, and the various puddles of blood that dripped from the heads of both men have now made the normally clean ringmat nearly completely red! Zack pushes up to his feet, still aching and holding onto the "soft spot", and like a shark, Blank smells blood in the water. He moves towards Zack, rolling his fists menacingly, but as he get closer... ...ZACK BLASTS HIM WITH SCHOOL'S OUT... ...BUT BRUCE CATCHES HIS FOOT! COACH Aw, sh*t! COLE Zack was playing possum for a minute there, but he couldn't connect with his patented superkick! Blank laughs, and then uses Zack's leg to pull the prep closer, and snatches him by the throat, then lifts him and plants him with a chokeslam in one smooth motion! COLE He nearly drove him through the ring with that chokeslam! Malibu lay perfectly still on the canvas, and Blank, who rests on one knee besides him, lightly slaps his face, mocking his physical state. He stands over Zack and then starts fiddling with his belt buckle, unstrapping his leather belt from around his waist and folding , clutching the buckle end in his hand like a handle as he stars laying into Zack with whips with the strap! BRUCE BLANK SUCKS! BRUCE BLANK SUCKS! BRUCE BLANK SUCKS! The crowd does their best to distract the maniacal Southerner from his efforts, but Bruce doesn't let up, going so far as to tear the OAOAST T-shirt off of Zack, and then act like he's wiping his ass with it before resuming with the belt whips! COLE What a disgusting individual! IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT! WE DIDN'T NEED THIS! The crowd continues to get on Blank's case, but they get fired up when Malibu starts pushing off the mat, up to all fours...and then gets dropped again by more whips! Malibu's cries are audible as the welts form on his back, turning his flesh bright red! He tries to crawl away, reaching for the ropes, the turnbuckles...ANYTHING really...but Blank grabs him by the ankle and drags him to center ring, where the whipping resumes! Malibu doesn't get up until Blank pulls him up, onto both of his knees...and then Bruce unravels the strap and WRAPS IT AROUND ZACK'S THROAT! COLE He's choking him out! He's choking him with that damn belt! "GIVE IT UP, BOY!" shouts Blank, looking more and more like he's attempting murder rather than trying to win a wrestling match. "YOU CAN'T BEAT ME, BOY! GIVE IT UP WHILE YOU CAN!" Nick Patrick, the look of concern on his face only rivaled by his scared reactions to what's gone on in this contest, leans in, checking to see if Malibu has had enough, and if he's willing to save himself by ending it right now. "Zack? Zack, what do you say, Zack?" "Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn...unnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnh..." Malibu tries to fight free, digging his fingers under the strap and tries to pull it off his throat. "NOOOOOO!" The crowd pops loudly, as Zack refuses...AND POWERS UP! Malibu pushes up to his feet, and twists his body to the side, nailing Bruce in the ribs with an elbow! Bruce hobbles back, but his grip on the belt loosens, and Malibu takes it...AND STARTS WHIPPING AWAY IN A FRENZY! COACH GET HIM ZACK! GET HIM! Blank tries to shield himself from the blows, but Zack is going postal, hitting shot after shot after shot! He corners Blank, and then wraps the belt around his fist, with the buckle covering his knuckles. Zack then stands up on the second rope and starts raining punches down on Blank, driving the belt buckle into his forehead with every blow! Blank's body goes limp as he slides down into a seated position, and Zack backs off, then charges forward, smashing Bruce's head against the middle turnbuckle with a hard running knee! COLE Did you see his head snap back!?! Malibu throws the belt down, fueled by fury and rage. "GET UP, YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Blank is dazed in the corner, and barely moves, let alone respond. "GET UP! COME ON YOU BASTARD!" Malibu waits, but still, Bruce isn't going anywhere. Patrick goes over and asks if he's ready to give, but Bruce doesn't answer, or even acknowledge it! COACH He might be knocked out after that knee, Cole! Malibu, not wanting to wait any longer, comes towards the corner...but as he approaches, he catches a face full of white powder from Bruce Blank! COLE What the...he had powder in his hands the whole time! He suckered him in, and now Zack is blinded! Malibu can't see, and staggers back, trying to regain his vision. Blank reaches up and pulls himself up with the ropes, and when he stands he reaches into his pocket again. COACH What's he doin', Cole? COLE I shudder to think. He's...wait, now what's this? Blank pulls out something crumbled up, and unfolds it. COLE That's...that's a plastic bag?! What is he... Before Cole can ask the question, he gets the answer, as Bruce takes the plastic bag and PUTS IT OVER ZACK MALIBU'S HEAD! COLE MY GOD, NO! COACH HE'S GONNA KILL HIM, COLE! The crowd boos, but it's more subdued this time, as they're all in fear of what could happen! Bruce holds on tightly to the plastic handles of the bag, making sure that it's fitted tight and no air is getting in. Malibu is frantic, trying to do something to free himself, and Nick Patrick is probably wishing he was never given this assignment, as he's forced to watch Zack Malibu be put near death before his very eyes! With both hands pulling back behind Malibu's head the air quickly leaves the white bag, much to the horror of everyone in the arena. Bruce loves every second of it, because not only does he inflict a lot of pain on Zack but he doesn't have to exert a lot of energy doing it, the perfect move for him. MICHAEL COLE Zack is losing oxygen quickly, and there's not one person who can help him! We can't prevent this from happening! COACH He’ll have to get out of this himself, or it's over! COME ON ZACK!! Malibu tries to tear the bag but every time his hands touch the plastic Blank rams a knee into his back preventing Malibu from breaking out of the airtight trap Bruce has caught him in. At one point Blank even gets so cocky that he uses one hand to hold the bag tight while raising the other hand in the air! BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! The referee looks on in agony as Malibu fades slowly, the horrible image of Malibu sucking the bag into his mouth will stay with most of the fans for a long time. COACH I--I'm tempted to say that Malibu should quit just to get out of here without permanent injuries. MICHAEL COLE Coach...He--I'm at a loss for words here. Bruce grins as Malibu sinks to his ass, hands down by his side - he's only moments away from passing out...but NICK PATRICK HAS SEEN ENOUGH, and wraps his arms around Bruce's arm, prying him away from choking Malibu to death! COLE What the...NICK PATRICK IS PUTTING A STOP TO THIS! COACH Can he...can he do that!? Blank let's go, throwing Malibu to the mat, and as soon as he hits Zack rips the bag of his face, desperately gasping for air. Blank's focus is on Nick Patrick, who tells Blank "that's too much!" and stands by his decision to get involved. Bruce, however, is unimpressed with Patrick's mercy, and grabs him by the throat, and THROWS him backwards into the corner! Blank reaches down and picks the spike off the mat from earlier... ...AND NOW BRUCE BLANK IS CARVING REFEREE NICK PATRICK OPEN! COLE STOP IT! YOU'RE SICK, YOU HEAR ME! LEAVE HIM ALONE! Patrick screams loudly as his flesh is ripped open, while Blank loves every second of it. He then drops the referee to the canvas, watching as the blood pools under his head and stains the canvas. Proud of his actions, Blank turns around... ...CRACK~! AND IS MET WITH A HARD CHAIR SHOT TO THE SKULL! COLE COME ON ZACK! Malibu, visibly weak, is barely able to hold the chair up, but swings again, and a second hard shot teeters Bruce, but does not drop him yet! Bruce is dazed, and Malibu lifts the chair again...but when he lifts it just in front of his face, Blank drives a big boot into it, kicking the steel implement of destruction into the face of the OAOAST's poster boy! COLE DAMN IT! Blank shakes the cobwebs loose, and right now he's the only one standing, as both his rival AND the referee are out due to his bloodlust! COACH Cole, with Nick Patrick down...how are either of these guys gonna surrender? There's no one to ring the bell! COLE I don't know how much longer this can go on, Coach...I just don't know! Blank surveys the damage, and then looks up, staring up through the mesh roof and into the rafters above. COLE What's he looking at? Suddenly, a strand of rope comes through the mesh roof, and is lowered into Blank's grip, causing everyone to look up and see just what's going on. COACH What the...YO! That's Landon Maddix up there! COLE What the hell is he doing? What's the meaning of this!? Landon has lowered himself onto the roof of the cage, apparently having been hidden in the rafters this whole time! Bruce looks up and gives a "thumbs up" to the man who is MOST DEFINITELY NOT A WILDCARD, at least that's what he'll tell you. Maddix stands on the roof, making sure this rope is secure, while Blank takes it and WRAPS IT AROUND ZACK MALIBU'S THROAT!!!!! COLE What the...no...NO! STOP THIS! STOP IT DAMMIT! Blank looks up and gives the go-ahead signal, and Landon pulls on the rope, having it wrapped around a steel beam above the ring...and it's raising Malibu off the canvas! COACH They're...they're trying to hang him, Cole! Sure enough, Landon continues to pull tighter on the rope, and Malibu's feet come off the canvas! Once he's about a foot off the canvas, Landon secures the rope around the beam, and now Zack Malibu is kicking his legs, trying to free himself from the noose! COLE This is too much...THIS IS MURDER! Malibu is hanging, being strangled before our very eyes, with not even a referee to show mercy and help him! Screaming and crying, CANDIE comes out from the back, her makeup running due to the tears, as she runs towards the cage. COLE Candie! Candie, go to the back! Please, go to the back! Desperate to help the man she loves, Candie starts climbing the cage wall...AND BRUCE BLANK WHACKS HER FINGERS WITH HIS BELT, SENDING HER FALLING TO THE FLOOR! COACH No way, that ain't right! It's a melee now, as Calvin Szechstein, EvenflowDDT, and The Superstar all fight their way through the crowd, trying to rush the ring...but security won't let them! All three plead their case, trying to save Zack...but because they're in attendance as ticket buying fans and not contracted talent, security, no matter what the situation, won't let them budge! COLE LET THEM GO! FOR GOD'S SAKE, GET SOMEONE TO RELEASE THAT ROPE! ANGLESAULT comes charging out from the back, shoving security aside and getting into it with them. Bruce cackles and Landon smirks from his position atop the cage, as the whole arena, in Zack Malibu's hometown no less, is in chaos while he's being KILLED before our very eyes! COACH DO SOMETHING, SOMEONE! COLE He's turning blue...my God Coach he's turning blue! Zack fighting grows less and less, and he starts to go limp, as people desperately try to something to help the OAOAST's favorite son... ...AND THAT'S WHEN THE LIGHTS GO OUT! COLE What!? What's going on? COACH I got a feeling this is the last thing we need right now! Within seconds, the lights come back on, and never in your life have you heard a pop like this, as the Providence crowd leaps up and roars when CABOOSE APPEARS ON THE TOP OF THE CAGE! COLE IT'S EXACTLY WHAT WE NEED, COACH! COACH CABOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSE! Maddix panics, and IMMEDIATELY gets cracked in the ribs with a cricket bat shot that causes him to flip over the bat and land on his back! Caboose doesn't bother to pay any more attention, having disposed of Bruce's sidekick, and he races to free Malibu, quickly snapping the rope free from the rafters, and causes Zack to fall to the canvas! COLE CABOOSE SAVED ZACK! WE HAVEN'T SEEN CABOOSE IN MONTHS, NOT SINCE BRUCE AND THE WILDCARDS TOOK HIM OUT! COACH Caboose always owed a lot to Zack for saving his career, and now that debt has been paid! Caboose just saved Zack Malibu, baby! Caboose stands watch atop the cage now, and Maddix has nowhere to go. Blank looks up, sneering "you son of a bitch" at Caboose, who looks down and points his cricket bat at the repulsive redneck, and then makes the cut throat motion. Moving on to Plan B, Bruce quickly picks up the steel chair, and starts bringing it down across Zack's back, beating his near lifeless body down with it! ZACK! ZACK! ZACK! COLE Listen to this crowd, these fans...GET UP ZACK! COACH He can't lose, Cole...after all this, he just can't! ZACK! ZACK! ZACK! Candie screams from ringside for Blank to stop, but he taunts her as he slams the chair down across Zack's back. "THIS IS YOUR MAN!?" WHACK~! "THIS IS YOUR HERO!?" WHACK~!? "HE AIN'T NOTHIN'!" Candie pleads for him to stop, having seen enough. Her pleas are heard from her cries, and as Anglesault tries to lure her away from the cage, she pushes away from him, screaming for Zack. "Zack, PLEASE!" Blank walks over to the side of the cage, and again picks up the spike off the mat. With the blood stained implement in his hands, Bruce states that "I'm gonna cut his god damn heart out!" to Candie, who panics even more...although SOMEONE is slowly rising to their feet. COLE Look at this...LOOK AT THIS... Blank turns around, and when he does, he's SHOCKED, as the fans roar. Covered in blood, having cheated death... ...ZACK MALIBU IS ON HIS FEET! "YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Malibu immediately hits a running kick to the nuts, staggering Blank! He fires off right hands, and then whips Blank to the ropes, picking up the spike in the process...AND NAILS HIM WITH A FLYING FOREARM, JABBING THE SPIKE INTO HIS HEAD! Malibu rolls to his feet, and now picks up the belt once again, and starts whipping away in a frenzy, never letting up! COLE TAKE IT TO HIM, ZACK! MAKE HIM PAY! Zack picks Blank up, and hurls him into the corner. After Blank collides, Zack comes and wraps the belt around the turnbuckle hook, putting both of Bruce's hands behind him, and fastens the belt around them before tightening it, using it as a makeshift set of handcuffs! COACH He's got Blank tied up! Blank struggles, and can't move, as his hands are trapped behind him! Malibu goes and retrieves the chair, and hie picks it up, moving towards Blank to lay waist to him...but Bruce kicks Zack in the stomach, then kicks both of his legs off the mat and kicks the chair into Malibu's face! COLE Son of a...! Zack's weak, we knows he's weak, but he can't let Bruce Blank get the better of him. Blank twists and wriggles, and finally winds up snapping belt buckle from the belt itself, freeing himself from Zack's trap. Noticing Zack trying to get up, Blank hits a soccer style kick to his ribcage, doubling him over, before he again reaches into his pocket. COLE What the hell's he got...IS THAT A LIGHTER!? To answer Cole's question, it is indeed a lighter, as Blank shows it to the crowd by taking Malibu's OAOAST shirt and SETS FIRE TO IT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE RING! COACH Aw damn...DAMN! COLE Get up Zack, come on, please! Candie shrieks, which is music to Bruce's ears as he approaches Malibu, who is groggy on the mat... ...AND WHO COMES UP WITH A SCHOOL'S OUT OUT OF NOWHERE, DROPPING BRUCE BLANK LIKE A GUNSHOT~! COLE SCHOOL'S OUT! SCHOOL'S OUT! Malibu quickly crawls for the lighter, as Blank checks to see if his jaw is still in place. Zack can barely move, having exhausted what little energy he had on that superkick, and he and Blank come up to their feet together... FWOOSH~! ...AND ZACK THROWS A FIREBALL INTO THE FACE OF BRUCE BLANK~! "YEARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH!" Blank screams the loudest anyone's ever heard, as he's met with scorching hot fire, right in the face! Blank goes into shock, kicking his legs and flailing his arms, patting his face and screaming even louder as the flesh melts! Malibu goes over and grabs the now-frantic monster and takes him by the head, leading him towards the wall of the cage... ...AND STARTS RAKING HIS BURNING FLESH ON THE WALL OF THE CAGE~!? COACH Oh man, oh MAN! "GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Malibu takes it to him, not letting up, as Bruce's blackened flesh starts peeling off, the cage digging through the tender skin and cutting down to bone! "AAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHH!" With Nick Patrick down, Anglesault races around to the side of the cage, looking in at the action. "What do you say, Bruce?! Do you give!?" "NNNNNNNNNNNN...NNNNNNNNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRGH!" "Come on Bruce, what's it gonna be, yes or no?!" "GAAAAAAH...SONOFAAAAAAAAA...AAAAARGH!" Malibu plants his foot in the back of Bruce's head, forcing his face against the mesh so hard that it leaves an imprint on his singed skin! "IIIII...I SURR...I SURRENDER!" "YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA~!!!" The crowd goes CRAZY, as Malibu falls back to the canvas out of sheer exhaustion, and the bell is called for by Anglesault, marking the end of one of the OAOAST's most brutal encounters. BUFFER Ladies and gentlemen, your winner of Survive Or Surrender...ZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLIBUUUUUUU! Anglesault quickly calls for the cage to be risen, and Caboose scales the wall of the cage, down to the aisleway, leaving Landon Maddix laid out up top. Once the cage is up, Anglesault, Candie, Calvin Szechstein, Evenflow, Supes, Scotty Static and Johnny Jax rush the ring, checking on Malibu, while EMT's rush out for Blank, Malibu, AND poor Nick Patrick. COLE HE DID IT! ZACK MALIBU SURVIVED, and BRUCE BLANK'S CAREER IS OVER! Candie embraces her bloody boyfriend, holding him tight, while Zack tells her "it's over". Evenflow, Anglesault, Supes, Caboose, and the GPX all watch on as the happy couple share a moment. Zack then turns around and comes face to face with Caboose, and says two simple words that mean more than anything. "Thank you." The friends embrace, and it's a "group hug" type of atmosphere, as the Providence crowd gives Zack a standing ovation for enduring the most torture he ever has. COACH Bruce Blank is no more! Get him the hell out of here! EMT's load Bruce, still groaning in agony on a stretcher, while in the ring, Anglesault takes the lighter and pulls something out of the inside of his suit jacket. COLE What the...what's that? AS sets fire to the papers, and as they burn, he throws them at Bruce Blank, who is defenseless on the stretcher. COACH I think...that was his contract, dawg! Blank, furious, tries to fight off the EMT's, and it's taking a good four of them to hold him down. Noticing this, Static and Jax exit the ring and tell the EMT's to clear the way, as THEY start wheeling Bruce around ringside. They wheel him over to his truck, and both of them look at each other like they have something in store...as they each take an end and lift Bruce off the stretcher...AND TOSS HIM INTO THE BACK OF THE TRUCK~! COLE Look at this! Static climbs up onto the roof of the truck, while Jax jumps in and starts the truck up, and Malibu's theme music now fades out, as Static claps and leads the crowd in a chant. "NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA HEY HEY HEY GOOD-BYE!" "NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA HEY HEY HEY GOOD-BYE!" Jax revs the engine, and then backs the truck up the aisleway, with Bruce Blank bruised, bloody, and burned in the back, helpless to what's going on. COLE They're taking him out of here! GOOD RIDDANCE! COACH See ya, and wouldn't wanna be ya, Brucie! Once again, "Getting Away With Murder" hits, and the crowd cheers wildly still, as Malibu is helped from the ring and brought to the back for treatment. He looks around at his fans, all of them applauding his efforts, and he takes relief in knowing that finally, the war that began due to his actions nearly a year ago, is now over. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Patty O'Green 0 Report post Posted January 4, 2008 MOTY CREDITS Zack Malibu KC P.O'Green ENTERTAINING SEGMENT OF THE YEAR CREDITS P.O'Green Tony149 (even though he tried not to take credit! Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
