Members of the Las Vegas Rollergirls league prepare for derby practice. From left are Ivanna S. Pankin, Christy "Christiatric" Larson and a skater who calls herself Trish "The Dish." Photo by K.M. Cannon. Ivanna S. Pankin rounds a corner behind fellow rollergirl Trish "The Dish" during a practice session. Members of the Las Vegas Rollergirls league gather at local parks twice a week for practice. Photo by K.M. Cannon.

Roller derby is the Madonna of sports -- it occasionally goes away, but always seems to resurface in more outlandish form.

Born as a serious sport at the height of the Great Depression, it had faded by the late '50s. Then derby fever caught fire in the '70s as a staged, pro wrestling-like event awash in TV-ready characters before flaming out in the '80s.

Now, roller derby is back with yet another breed of athlete.

The current burgeoning revival is led by a skirt-flapping army of tattooed exhibitionists who call themselves rollergirls.

They drink. They curse. They cause bruises. In short, they're hell on wheels.

And this weekend, legions of rollergirls from across the nation are descending on Las Vegas for their first convention.

Besides scrimmages, debauchery and general mayhem, RollerCon '05 boasts a bevy of bands playing ear-splitting rock 'n' roll.

Las Vegas' favorite punk dive, the Double Down Saloon, will host 26 bands hailing from eight states for RollerCon's three-day minimusic festival.

Locals are invited, and there's no cover charge, leaving you more cash for Double Down's signature alcoholic concoction, Ass Juice.

But don't plan to attend unless you can handle the nocturnal schedule.

Like usual gigs at the Double Down, music starts at 10 p.m. But because there's such a jam-packed roster, bands will be playing past 5 a.m.

"It's going to be nuts, a madhouse," Double Down owner P Moss says. "Every band is going to play 30 minutes, with only 15 minutes for tear down and the next band to come up."

Two of the bands hitting town, Tucson's Winelord and Seattle's Mocmoc, are comprised of rollergirls.

Others, like Phoenix's acoustic punk rockers The Meat Department, are regularly booked as entertainment for roller derby bouts.

Acts not to miss: Philadelphia's Toothless George & His One Man Band, who's playing all three days; Oakland's The Knights of the New Crusade, a Christian-themed punk band whose songs are all about the New Testament; and Las Vegas' The Loud Pipes, whose dual-guitar assault is ... you guessed it: way loud.

The acts were booked by Jodi Feldman, a California rollergirl who skates in the L.A. Derby Doll league under the name Hadda "Bad" Day. She let her taste guide her.

"Most of these bands are punk rock party bands," Feldman says. "I'm a punk rocker, but I love rock 'n' roll. I like to dance and have a good time."

Although RollerCon was borne of a DIY, punk attitude, it immediately attracted Internet buzz upon its announcement in February. Bands from across the country began jostling to play the gig.

"I started getting e-mails immediately, like three dozen, from bands wanting to play," Moss says. "I had to tell them 'Sorry, it's already closed.' "

All indications are that after five years as an obscure subculture, rollergirl mania is on the horizon.

Camera crews are documenting the stories of Austin's Texas Rollergirls league for an upcoming A&E reality show, and national media outlets have expressed interest in covering RollerCon.

"It started out just as a party, and now it's turned into an enormous deal with CNN calling," says RollerCon organizer Denise Grimes, aka rollergirl Ivanna S. Pankin.

Recently transplanted here from Arizona, Grimes is forming a Las Vegas derby league similar to the country's biggest. In Austin, bouts regularly attract 1,200 spectators.

So what's the draw?

Derby bouts give fans an event that mixes serious competition with punk band halftime shows and other spectacles. The fun can run from the PG-13 variety on up to R.

For instance, players who draw the most fouls during a bout in Phoenix's Arizona Rollergirls league are subject to spankings in Pink Cheek Alley.

Then there are the teams' costumes, almost all of which include micro skirts.

The women of the Texas Rollergirls league have particularly ornate uniforms. The Hell Marys dress like Catholic schoolgirls. The Hustlers dress like '70s porn stars. The Hot Rod Honeys' black-with-pink-accent outfits are supplemented by push-up bras.

"We're cute, but we'll kill you," says Hot Rod Honey Melicious. "Our cheer is 'Faster, faster! Kill, kill!' "

Outside the rink, Melicious is an Austin marketing copywriter named Melissa Joulwan.

She explains the draw of being a rollergirl in terms of camaraderie and escape.

"The thing that I loved about it was it felt like a group of outsiders who found each other and felt really comfortable together. We're kind of the freaks and geeks, and we get to be the stars of our own show," she says.

"Our personas are much larger than any of us is in real life."