The Washington, D.C. natives rose to their feet as the wraithlike opera introduction of "Healing Vision (Full Hate Mix)" by De-Sire blasted through the speakers, the piano keys being delicately played.

As the RaveTron focused on the gorilla position, DDR was seen in her usual mode, nodding her head to the beat, an adrenaline rush she loved to thrive from. As the beat picked up, she began to bounce around on her feet, emerging from the curtains.

As the cheers intensified in the arena, she began to headbang to her entrance theme, making her way down the ramp as well. Of course, she loved to interact with the fans as she slapped hands on the way down. She sprang to the ring apron from ringside, turning to look at the fans. Her hair still flying as she headbanged, she moonsaulted over the top rope into the ring, displaying her flawless agility.

The crowd’s love turned to hate as the Full Hate Mix came to an end, the lights dimming appropriately.

The beginning to Black Label Society’s "Counterfeit God" began to play. Three golden pyrotechnics burst into flames in midair as the arrival of Jolt’s Triple Crown Champion as made.

If it wasn’t the mere fact that Carson Nash was the Triple Crown Champion that pissed most people off, then it definitely had to have been his trunks with his face plastered on the front. Hey, once you think about it, I guess you could say he was literally a dickhead. Get it? His head’s near his crotch. Haha.

Anyway, the crowd definitely wasn’t feeling Nash as he strolled down the ramp, all three respective belts that combined formed the Triple Crown Championship with him. After all, this was a title defense. He’d need the belts in case he lost, now wouldn’t he?

What? You didn’t know that? To quote Ken Kaze: "EEEEDIOT!"

As Carson entered the ring, he caught DDR shaking her head. So, naturally, he winked at her and said, "Hey bitch, let me get your number. That way, after the show, you can at least get close to the champion. I might even let you touch the gold."

DDR smiled approvingly.

"Nah, that’s okay. There’s a reason why they call you ‘Untouchable,’ ya know. It’s no secret that you have syphilis, AIDS, herpes, and genital warts. I think I’ll pass. Matter of fact, I heard Kaze was going to be lonely tonight. Maybe I could find him later tonight and be with a REAL champ, eh?"

Provokingly, she winked back. Of course, she wasn’t serious. Who the Hell in their right state of mind would want to spend a night with Kaze? She just wanted to piss the Triple Crown Champ off. And thus, she did.

"Stupid bitch," Nash muttered as Senior Official Mark Lenoux handed the three championship belts off to Clippie Da Clown. "She’ll regret saying that," he murmured to himself.

"What?" Nash queried, shocked. "The Hell – ARGH!"

The Champ was cut off short as he caught a mouthful of feet from a perfectly executed springboard dropkick from the middle rope. He slumped into the corner backwards, as DDR nipped up to her feet, firing off a barrage of fists to the champ’s body. However, this was the f’n Triple Crown Champ. And this was a title defense. This was what Dee Dee had been craving (more so than head; get it, Craven Moorehead – Craving More Head? Ah shit, I’m lame) since she entered Jolt. She wasn’t going to only punch the champ.

She was going to knee, kick, and drop bows from every angle. Hell, I thought I saw her even throw an ass in there. Yes, DDR backed that thang up on Nash. Matter of fact, a miniscule bulge became visible through Nash’s tight trunks.

As DDR finally relented on the assault, something Eron would have never done (because he’s relentless, duh), Nash stumbled out of the corner, as if he were mocking Ric Flair.

WOOOOOOOOO~!

Got’cha!

No, it wasn’t a knife-edged chop. Carson simply fell face down to the canvas, just like Flair would. DDR saw this as her chance to continue the battering as she nailed a standing senton splash. To continue her advantage, she stood atop Mr. Untouchable’s back. She ducked her head before whipping her hair into the air, raising her hands in excitement. The audience was backing her up.

She began to boogey down, Joe. You know, she began to stomp all over the back of Nash as if she were playing a game of Dance Dance Revolution. She even stomped on the back of his head! That must’ve sucked.

The bar-raping continued until referee Lenoux finally pulled her off.

HEY!

HE DELIBERATELY GRABBED A BREAST! I SAWS IT, I DID! I SAWS IT, MASTUH!

Anyway, as DDR was restrained, Nash managed to pull himself up to his knees. DDR broke free from Lenoux and began to rush Carson. However, just in the nick of time . . . .

(wait for it)

. . .

(you know the suspense is killing you, dammit!)

. . .

NOTHING HAPPENED!

Actually, Nash threw his hands up into the air and began pleading with DDR immediately. Out of some morbid curiosity, she actually took heed to his call and halted in her charge.

Though, if you were smart, you’d never trust a man such as Carson Nash. A wicked smile overcame his face as he delivered a sweeping underhook . . . to DDR’s GONADS! YES, THE LOW BLOW OF DOOM~!

THE LOW BLOW OF DOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM~!

BUT, WAIT, OH MY GREATNESS! DDR NO SOLD! NO SOLD! NO SOLD! DDR LOOKED LIKE GOLDBERG IN THE RING!

Nash was obviously bemused as DDR merely stood there, a smile appearing over her face as well. However, it wasn’t one of those malicious smiles where you know you’re about to backstab someone, it was a smile of laughter.

But why? Why did that low blow not hurt? IF A WOMAN GOT PUNCHED IN HER BUSH, IT WOULD HURT HER DAMMIT! TRUST ME, IT WOULD!

However, as you know, wrestling’s so damn fake! It’s so fake, it pisses me off. I QUIT!

/end rant.

A sweeping right foot caught Nash in the temple, dropping him to the mat instantly. DDR legdropped Nash across the sternum. Though, it seemed to have served no purpose, as Carson rose to his feet immediately.

He looked her in the eye for a second, before devouring her face completely with a big boot, sending her to the ground. He lifted her back up to her feet and threw her in between his legs. He brought her rigid body into the air, and spiked her head into the canvas with a piledriver. Matter of fact, it seemed as if Nash had botched the move on purpose, hoping to increase the risk of potential damage. Damn, what an underhanded move from Nash, eh?

DDR was stunned from that last maneuver, but Nash seemed to have been rejuvenated. As he clasped onto the raving lunatic from behind with a rear waistlock, he made sure to cross her arms and clasp their hands together.

Awww, how cute. Nash was showing affectionatesism (yes, it IS a word, fool) to DDR. Carson luv0rz Dee Dee.

Their mutual love relationship ended shortly, however, as Nash began to lift her up into the air. A straight jacket suplex was about to be put into full affect, but DDR managed to reverse the momentum as she rolled forward. With her legs hooking underneath Nash’s armpits, the handholding came to an end as DDR performed a victory roll reversal!

ONE!

TWO!!

NO!!!

A title change wasn’t scheduled to happen tonight it seemed, at least not now. Nash jumped up to his feet and began cursing immediately.

"MAN, F[BEEP!]K THAT S[BEEP!]T DAWG, SERIOUSLY!"

See, told you so. Untouchable dropped to the mat and rolled out to the ring. He approached Clippie and demanded he be handed his three belts so he could exit the arena immediately. Of course, for fear of his own life, Clippie obliged and handed the belts over. And Nash was on his way, walking around the perimeter of the ring, and up the ramp way.

"What does he think he’s doing?" DDR questioned the referee.

Lenoux shrugged in response and began the inevitable ten count.

ONE!

DDR dropped to the mat and rolled out of the ring herself.

TWO!

"Carson, sweetie. Wait a sec, let me tell you something right quick!" DDR mocked after Nash. He simply waved her off.

THREE!

However, as DDR had finally reached Carson, he simultaneously swiveled around, aiming to take DDR’s head off with all three of those championship belts. She must have anticipated this cheap tactic though, as she ducked the attempted clothesline, which causing Nash to lose his balance and stumble toward ringside.

FOUR!

DDR rushed behind him and grasped a hold of his trunks with one hand, placing another on his back, shoving him forward. Inside the ring Nash rolled, as DDR followed suit to end the ten count. Lenoux attempted to slide all of the belts out of the ring with his foot, but one managed to get caught on the apron as the other two fell to the floor.

Both Nash and DDR were up to their feet now, and circling each other as well. They both agreed upon a collar-and-elbow tie-up. Of course, this was a mistake for DDR as Nash easily powered her into the ropes. He grasped onto her arm and whipped her into the next set of ropes.

Well, actually, he just whipped her right into his knee. A short-armed knee lift to the midsection, to be exact. An elbow smash to the back of her cranium followed, as it seemed Nash finally had DDR where he wanted her.

On her knees, muhfugga.

Apparently, Nash had the same perverted mind just as this matchwriter does as he grasped the back of her head with his hands. The fans booed as they knew exactly what Carson was about to do.

HE COULDN’T DO IT.

HE WOULDN’T.

COULD HE?

WOULD HE?

WOULD HE DARE SHAME DDR IN FRONT OF THE SOLDOUT CROWD, AS WELL AS THE MILLIONS OF VIEWERS SITTING AT HOME BY MOCKING A SEXUAL ACT ON NATIONAL TELEVISION?

Well, apparently there was too much thought process involved in this . . . er, process, as DDR managed to escape the situation, jolting up to her feet. A European uppercut raised Carson’s chin a little. DDR proceeded to bounce off of the ropes and connect with a flying leg lariat, sending Mr. Untouchable stumbling backwards.

A flailing elbow smashed right into the bridge of Lenoux’s face, sending him to the mat instantly. With Nash stumbling in the ropes, DDR decided she’d fix the situation later rather than sooner, and charged at Nash. As she vaulted into the air and landed in a seated fashion upon Carson’s shoulders, it seemed like she was ready to spike the champ onto his head. She swiveled around whilst on his shoulders, now finding herself in a reverse rana position.

However, Nash had a different motive in mind as he turned her back around into the regular hurricanrana position. Staring straight ahead, directly into her crotch, he licked his lips before powerbombing her to the mat.

"It’s a shame I’ll have to break your back this way," he said, stepping over her. "I’d rather break it in a different position, if ya know what I mean."

Lifting her to her feet, Nash sent the dazed and confused heroine into the ropes. On the rebound, Nash was caught in the gut by an unforeseen right kick. A left kick found its way to his chest, which allowed DDR to ascend jauntily up Nash’s body, almost as if he were a set of stairs. A slapping right kick found its target in Nash’s neck, causing him to cringe only before he received a shocking left knee strike in the temple. However, this series of attack wasn’t finished as a twisting right knee strike nearly decapitated Carson. With his neck rotating one hundred ten degrees, it was obvious the lights were out now.

DDR landed on her feet gracefully, as Nash fell to the canvas like a ton of bricks. She had just went into light mode and called the ending of this match. For, that attack series was a five star shining wizard.

Better known as the MAXX 300!

The crowd was on their feet, for they knee this match was over. Not only were they going to see Nash lose tonight, but they’d witness the first ever female champion in the new era of Jolt.

DDR pushed Carson onto his back and hooked the leg.

ONE!

TWO!!

THREE!!!

DING! DING! DING!

YOUR WINNER, AND NEW –

WAIT!

Mark Lenoux was still unconscious and the count had never been made. DDR looked over to notice Lenoux was barely stirring. She slammed her fists into the mat. She was literally three seconds away from becoming the Triple Crown Champion. In a sense, she was, for she had covered Nash for the appropriate three seconds. But an official count was never made. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is all that matters.

As DDR had tended to the referee, Mr. Untouchable groped around the edges of the ring, looking to cling onto something for dear life. He never in his life expected a women to humiliate him this bad. He now knew exactly what Phil Atken felt when he had been humiliated those thousands of times at the hands of DDR. Okay, it wasn’t thousands, but it seemed like it.

Lenoux was up to his knees now and seemed like he could get along by himself now. Thus, DDR left him alone and approached Nash once more. As she doubled over to lift Nash up . . .

KICKWHAMSTUNNER!

OH SHIT, STONE COLD’S IN THE HIZZOUSE.

Well, not really.

But, DDR had been knocked out cold, for Carson clotheslined her to Hell and back. Of course, the clothesline had assistance from a piece of gold. The Triple Crown Championship piece of gold, to be exact.

Remember earlier when the referee had attempted to slide all three belts out of the ring? Yeah?

Remember when one of those belts had caught itself on the ring apron? Yeah?

. . .

YYEEAAHH, BABY! Exactly.

Carson threw the title belt out of the ring as he ran to the referee, forcing him to turn around and face DDR. He immediately made the lateral press.

ONE!

No, it couldn’t end like this.

TWO!!

Or, perhaps, could it?

Damn those heel champions never winning cleanly.

"Counterfeit God" by Black Label Society played throughout the arena. Carson Nash had successfully defended his championship tonight, only by the skin of his neck, or however that phrase goes.

Lenoux raised Nash’s hand into the air only to have it snatched away. Nash rolled out of the ring to gather his three belts, and slid back inside. Throwing the circa 2001 jOlt World Heavyweight title across his shoulder and the circa 2002 jOlt World Heavyweight belt across his other, he strapped the circa 2005 Jolt Triple Crown Championship around his waist. Then, and only then, he forced Lenoux to raise his hand in the air.

I guess when you’re the champ, you call all of the shots, eh?

The Washington, D.C. really gave it to Nash, as if he were some little hot sexy ass latina nurse, bending over in front of you, begging you to please inspect her insides, doctor . . . she thinks something’s wrong.

Er . . . yeah, the fans booed Nash pretty much out of the arena as he held his hands high in the air, smiling maliciously, yet victoriously, inside of the squared circle.

Winner: "Untouchable" Carson Nash via pinfall (courtesy of belt-shot to DDR)

Time: 10:34