Welcome to Gaia! ::

This match will be contested under elimination, tornado tag team rules! the objective of the match is to pin BOTH of your opponents! This match...is...for the TAG TEAM BEATDOWN CHAMPIONSHIPS!!! Now, without further adue, introducing first...

'I dare you' by shinedown begins to play over the PA system, but it slowly fades into 'Pride' by Soil. Christopher Cross makes his way onto the stage holding a mic, dressed not to compete, but in a black cutaway t-shirt, blue jeans, and blue converse all-stars. His usually long black hair, tied in a ponytail, was cut short and spiked in the front. The fans who had started cheering as he came out, were soon confused as to the appearance of this familiar wrestler. He slowly brought the microphone to his lips.

"Listen to all of my so called fans, a quick haircut and music change, and they sudden don't feel like they know whether to cheer me or not. Talk about sheep."

This caused the audience to react the opposite of what Cross was used to. As he walked down the ramp, they booed him heavily. They certainly did not like being called sheep. As he reached the ring, he slowly walked up the steps and through the ropes, opting not to show his usual flair getting into the ring. As he stood in the center of the squared circle, he once again brought the mic to his lips.

"I haven't been apart of this company long and I've already come to the conclusion that you people are not to be pandered to. You're not worth my energy, or my talent. What you people don't realize about your sycophantic ways, is that, while they work on most of these weak-minded fools, they no longer work on the likes of me."

These fans who once cheered this man, were now treating him as anyone who spoke like this towards them should be treated. As if he was a criminal, accused of murder or other heinous crimes. They booed and heckled him. It didn't take long to turn them against himself, but he had done it.

"I'm no longer in this company, or even this entire business to wow you with my superior athleticism, just so you can go home and get on your myspaces and facebooks, and write your sad pathetic little blogs about how I'm a hero, I'm someone to looked up to, someone who all you fat little swine wish you could be. I am Christopher Cross, I am the greatest young talent this business has ever seen, and I deserve more respect than this company could possibly hope to grant me. Instead of challenging for a singles title, or better yet, the title of a company that matters, I'm stuck in a match with a big, goofy, 300 pound dead weight as my partner, for a second rate title, to entertain second rate fans. Well, I say no. I will not lower myself for your amusement."

The fans were ready to tear Cross into a million pieces or burn him at the stake. Not only had he insulted them, but he had insulted the company they had all paid good money to come and be entertained by. As his music hit again, he left the ring, beginning to walk back up the ramp, taunting the angry fans as he went.

((Kinda hoping one of the faces in the match come out to confront me as I try to leave, but if it doesn't work out that way, oh well. And sorry if the heel work is lackluster, I'm new at it. I was planning on using my qualification match and my speech in the general manager's office to turn heel, but my opponent doesn't seem to want to post.))

Cross reveled in the feeling of the smirk that began to creep across his face while bringing the mic back up.

"Wow Lashley, I'm surprised your tiny little brain could come up with that, even if it was completely lackluster and lacking in any intelligence. You go on and get completely, forgive the pun, dominated in this match, and I won't be there to save you when you sorely need it. So go, and try with all your might to walk out of here without getting demolished, while I sit in the back and watch as my words are justified and made right."

The smarks and smart fans in the audience couldn't help but laugh at the pun, but all the straight up marks booed the holy hell out of the newly heel Cross as he left the ringside area, disappearing to the back once again.

((I like puns. And for those who aren't in the know smart fans, smarks, and marks are just wrestling terminology for fans who know it's just entertainment, those who know that and still get enjoyment out of it, and fans who don't realize it's scripted. The more you know.))

Bobby stands on side as waits to here what two have to say.

Joshua took the microphone and accepted it with a smile. He raised it to his lips as he looked to the crowd, then back into the center of the ring. Joshua looked to Lashley, then turned away, looking out into the crowd.

"Niggers."

The crowd was PISSED! They had to sit through what Jed had said, and now they had to sit through THIS stuff from Joshua! He continued through their chorus of boos.

"They need to go back to Africa... But wait... That's why they're still here in the FIRST place! Africa is so infested with AIDS that they're SCARED to go back to their native lands! What we NEED to do however, is stop the Asians from producing... If they'd stop producing, we'd have a place to SEND all the African-UnAmericans... But we ain't providing a boat, so they'll probably drown... Because they can't swim..."

The crowd was rabid! They wanted a piece of Joshua now! A fan hopped over the barricade, and almost made it into the ring before security stopped him... The fan ALSO just so happened, to be black...

"Oh, ho, ho, ho, ho! Get the ******! Stop him from mugging me and Jed and taking our money! Ha, ha, ha!"

The crowd was booing once more, and Joshua tried to talk over them, but they wouldn't let up!

"Listen ********! This isn't a movie theater, and I'm pretty sure you're not all black, but even if you were, that means you can shut the hell up!"

Somehow, that comment was able to quiet the crowd.

"Like I was saying... Now, me and Jed here are in WWE:IA, to liberate the company from all non-americans, and in the process, take our tag team title belts! Now, if we get to beat the hell out of non-americans, that's cool... I love to destroy many non-americans... Including the spanish speaking wetbacks, the japanese speaking chinks, and of course... The big lipped African niggers..."

He walked closer to the camera, and whispered into the microphone, like he was telling a secret to the camera.

"...Those are my favorites to beat down..."

The crowd was still rabid, and Joshua, sensing that, looked at the crowd and passed his microphone over to Jed, believing that he had more to say.

(can use bigger text and not that color. Im colored blind and I just camt read the color. Its not to be rude.)

Lashley made his way to ring as got in. He had heard enough as he grabbed mic from his hand acted as if was going to say something. Instead attempted bash one of them in the head.

(How's that?)