How times change.

“Hey, wha-…Oh, Darren, it’s you. I thought it was one of those other wankers,” he said with relief. Providence nodded his head.

“It’s okay, Joe. I was just coming to see you about tonight. I think I have a plan for Christ.” Joe smiled and slapped Providence on the shoulder.

“Well, how fucking crazy is that? I was just on my way to see you about something for later tonight.” Providence grinned. “Shoot.”

“Okay, as you know, I’ve got a lot of fucking pains in the arses in this promotion, and it’s about time to start doing something about it. Anyway, here’s the deal, mate,” Joe said with a serious look. “Tonight, I need you to take out Carnage for me. That bloody bastard is going to get his, and you’re the guy I know I can count on to get the job done. I want you to go out there and beat his arse. Rip him limb from fucking limb for all I care. He needs to be taught a lesson.”

Providence smiled, partly out of pride from what Joe had said about him and partly out of the opportunity in front of him. “No problem, Joe,” he said with a nod. “But I have a suggestion. How about we throw Steve Christ into the mix? That way, I can go out there and take care of two problems for the price of one. You’ll have both of those fucks out of your way in one fell swoop.”

In talking about crippling two men, Joe looked happier than most men do on their first night in the sack. His smile went from ear to ear and he slapped both hands on Providence’s shoulders. “Beautiful, mate,” he said. “Just beautiful. This is going to be one hell of a night.”

cHEESE screamed into the microphone "Avo Chaves is a dirty wetback! YEAH YOU HEARD ME! A DIRTY 'SPIC WETBACK!!"

The crowd blinked. It was a rather odd thing to see, the large mass of people blinking at the same time that is.

cHEESE pointed to the crowd, "...well... mark my words! Before we leave this arena, we will offend at least one of you!"

"PENIS!" egg NOG screamed, "PENIS, PENIS, PENIS!! VAGINA, VAGINA, VAGINA!!"

Once again, the crowd blinked it's creepy, unison blink.

egg NOG looked almost brokenhearted as he looked down at the floor.

"Look at the screen!" cHEESE said pointing to the Asylumtron, "and be offended!"

A pair of large breasts appeared on the screen and most of the crowd cheered. Those that didn't just blinked. Before cHEESE and egg NOG could move on with their "offense parade", N.O.R.E.'s "Nothin'" cued leaving most of the crowd confused.

Out walked Lonnie. He had a microphone in his hand. The world cringed.

"Guh-guh-guys." he managed to start, "I duh-duh-don't think you shu-shu-shu-should be doing this."

Lonnie pushed his glasses back up his face as cHEESE and egg NOG looked at each other.

NOG took the microphone and raised it to his mouth.

"I think you should shu-shu-shu-shut up!"

The fans that cared, cheered. Lonnie just gulped as he raced to put a sentence together.

"Ya-ya-you shouldn't talk to mmm-mmm-me like that!" he said pointing to egg NOG. "I ooo-ooww-own you! ... sss-ss-sorta."

egg NOG shot back, "I duh-duh-don't care! I'm going to offend someone!"

The picture on the Asylumtron quickly changed to two men hugging. Now through the magic of photoshop, Lonnie's head was attached to both men. Lonnie looked up and saw the picture, the crowd roared with laughter.

"Huh-huh-hey! Take that down! Ttt-ttt-that's not true! I'm nnn-nnuh-not like that! It's not ever ppp-puh-possible!" Lonnie cried out.

cHEESE and egg NOG were doubled over with laughter. Each of them wiped an imaginary tear from their eye as all attention went back to Lonnie.

"Sss-sss-seriously guys! You need to sss-sss-stop!" Lonnie said as he looked to be close to crying.

cHEESE and egg NOG just continued their laughter as a voice boomed over the arena.
"This is GOD!" it said, "I am offended that you two dare step foot in the beloved Asylum. I'm also offended that you dare to waste quality minutes with your pointless babble! I want to see people beating each other up! Not you two talking! If I wanted talking I would turn on the WWE *cringe*! And I'm most offended that you took down the God reference on your Internet site! It made me laugh!"

cHEESE and egg NOG looked all around them in fear for who could possibly be saying that.

egg NOG slowly raised the microphone up.

"Sss-so you're offended?" he said, cowering in fear.

"YES!" the voice boomed back, "A WHOLE FREAKIN' LOT!"

"Success!" NOG said pumping his fist in celebration. "Then our work here is done! Onward cHEESE!"

"Sellout" found it's way into play once again as the LoD walked out of the cage and up the ramp. Lonnie eyed the two in anger as he waited until they passed and followed them out.

And just like that, The Show ventured on.

Nerva shrugged, with her head still down. “Just on vacation.”

He looked at her tank top, which read ‘Property of Joe Campbell’ on it. “Hey, so you’re finally with us! I’m telling you this, being on Joe’s side promises good things. I know he comes off as an ass sometimes, but he takes care of his people. It’s better to be with him than against him.”

She raised her face and Providence nearly jumped. Not even make-up could cover up the busted lip and swollen eye.

“Whoa!” he said. “What happened to you?”

Nerva saw his hand reaching out to her face and immediately pulled away. “I fell down.”

She ran back to refill the cup. Providence stood for a moment with his hands on his hips, and then shrugged. He had a match tonight and his focus had to be there.

The first, and probably not the last... appearence of the night, for Joe Campbell.

"DEAD." He roared, rushing through the curtain in a rather hurried manor, as he paced down the aisle he was clearly disgruntled, clambering the steps and leaping straight into the Asylum, before taking several deep, agitated breaths.

"FUCKING DEAD... that is what you are, consider yourselves on mother fucking borrow time people, and no... you aren't gravedigger fWo dead, you motherfuckers will stay dead and buried when the Asylum is finished with you... mark my words." Joe snarled to a large pop, sweating heavily.

"You better fucking believe it... who the FUCK do you little wankstains think you are? Running onto MY show, fucking up MY matches... touching MY title belt and speaking on MY airtime? I should... and probably will, have each and every one of you litte turd burglers castrated by Rave... Err, Forestrial whatever, himself." Joe snarled once again, spitting as he spoke... he was without question more furious than ever.

"The way I figure it out you little pieces of excrete... is that you fucking owe me, bigger than you can afford, you little bastards are in debt... because.

You fucked me up at Everything or Nothing and spoilt my night.

The week after, you had the sheer gaul to turn up and invade my show.

And now this week... not a single one of my fighters wants to fucking fight... they don't even want to be in the fucking arena, why? Because of you little fuckwits... lodging your little attacks, because of you little pissants a hefty portion of my active roster is nursing wounds from last week.

Believe you me... you will fucking pay more dearly than you can possible imagine.

Here I am you little bitches, while you can get rid of some of my fighters... if you want to get rid of me... you'll have to find something a lot more effective than a conventional attack, becuause believe me... I'm the turd that will not fucking flush, the PTC couldn't get rid of me, the FBI couldn't get rid of me and if you think you're going to manage it... you can think again, you twats." Joe sneered, suddenly... without warning, his nose started to bleed.

"GAH! NOW SEE WHAT YOU FUCKERS DID... YOU MADE ME SO PISSED OFF I'VE STARTED TO BLEED." Joe screamed, his eyes bulging.

"Well, bleeding and battered as I may be... I still have my wits about me, which for you little uphill gardeners, is not a good thing at all... see, I've already got my revenge well and truely set up... I don't know if you little absent minded tossers noticed, but I made a little cameo appearence on Thursday Night Uncut this week... or at least maybe it seemed like a cameo to you, rest assured... it was anything but.

You see, and this one's just for you Mark Knight... there's an old taboo about the industry you currently dabble in... an old wives tale that's happened time and time again, some people say its the most painful place to hit a promotion, the most insulting... degrading, heartless thing you can do to a promotion.

STEAL.

THEIR.

CHAMPION.

Take away the main man... the chap that pulls the strings, the merchandise franchise... the king of it all, the money maker.

GUESS WHAT BOYS." Joe said, a sickening smile plastered across his disturbed bruised and bleeding face.

"THE CHAMP, IS COMING HOME!" He screamed, another sickening smirk on his face.

"And he's bringing the title with him fuckers... oh yes, you know how I mean bastards, I bet you were having a real laugh when you found out that there'd only be three live matches on tonights show weren't you? Well... you can shove that laughter right up your fat corporate arses people... because I just took half of your ratings, and brought them over here.

SO.

FUCK.

YOU." Joe said hysterically, thrusting the microphone to the canvas as "Smack My Bitch Up" hit the pa system once more, he headed to the back... a sinister glint in his eye that would never be forgotten.

Gwen Vs DVD

“Since you never gave a damn in the first place maybe it’s time for the tables to turn”

Gwen shot an angry glance backstage, the fucking sound technicians got her music wrong. In no more then half a second, the tune changed to “Good Rats” by The Dropkick Murphys. Gwen cracked her neck, and continued her stride to the ring.

She climbed into the Asylum and looked out at the collection of fans. “Bullets” by Creed began playing and Gwen was about to turn her attention to the entrance way, but a face in the crowd caught her attention. She knew the face from somewhere, but dammit, she couldn’t remember where.

Dawn Van Dammage and Nord came out from the back. This was the first time since last Sunday that Dawn had gone out in public without a pair of shades over her bruised eyes. A sight they were too. The bridge of her nose was bandaged, yet noticeably swollen. The flesh around her eyes were a canvas of black and blue.

The man in the crowd was solemn, calm. Finally giving up, Gwen turned around just in time to see Dawn entering the ring. Gwen saw the damage she’d caused to that pretty little face of Dawn last week, and she snickered. Dawn saw the snicker, and that pissed her off.

She made her way towards Gwen, and Gwen made her way towards Dawn. The two women came face to face in the middle of the Asylum.

“A wee bit of a scratch on your face lass”

Gwen grinned arrogantly and Dawn could smell whiskey on her breath.

“Don’t your worry about it Gwen, I’ll return the favor.”

Gwen frowned. Her wit had been matched. She brought her head back and slammed it into Dawn’s. The third match of the series was underway, and Gwen had the upper hand.

Dawn stumbled backwards, seeing a few stars, but quickly launched herself right back into the battle. She charged towards Gwen, but Gwen brought both her feet off the ground and she drove them both into the stomach of Dawn.

Dawn bent over and gasped for air, Gwen grabbed the back of Dawn’s head and began driving it into her kneecap. Finally, she whipped Dawn backwards onto the mat.

Dawn’s nose had been re-aggravated, it was bleeding profusely. The flowing crimson mixed with Dawn’s flowing sweat and the mixture dripped freely down her upper lip and slipped its way into her mouth. She was used to the taste. It was a lot like the bitter taste of defeat.

Gwen bent over and grabbed Dawn by the hair to pick her up, she didn’t even see Dawn’s foot until it was too late.

SMACK!

Dawn’s boot connected with Gwen’s head, and the solid smack echoed throughout the arena. Gwen was still close, and Dawn took the opportunity...

SMACK!

SMACK!

SMACK!

Three kicks in a rapid quick succession sent Gwen stumbling backwards, and she almost fell over the top of the cage. She caught herself just in time and collapsed against the mesh.
Dawn got to her feet and stalked over to Gwen, she grabbed hold of the cage, and pushed her boot into Gwen’s face. Twisting her boot, Dawn felt Gwen’s face getting pinched in between the treads. When she pulled away, Gwen’s face was a red mass. Blood ejaculated from her forehead and squeamish members of the crowd had to turn away.

Dawn grabbed Gwen by the underarms, and lifted her to her feet. Gracefully, Dawn moved behind Gwen and locked her arms around Gwen’s waist. She lifted Gwen into the air, and Dawn arched her back. With a beautiful High Angle German Suplex executed, Dawn let go of Gwen, and listened to the count.

1.

Both women had beaten one another one time...

2.

Dawn was hoping that after this match, the score would be in her favor, 2-1.

3.

Three was about how many dozens of stars Gwen was counting right now...

4.

Four...well...Gwen didn’t know what she was getting up for.

Gwen was to one knee when Dawn came at her with a kick that would end the match.

A kick that surely would have ended the match if Gwen hadn’t of caught Dawn’s foot.

Gwen held onto Dawn’s foot, and Dawn came at her with the other foot, but Gwen ducked under the attempt at an Enziguri. Dawn was now on her stomach, a fallen prey to Gwen.

Gwen lifted Dawn’s leg into the air and slammed it down with such impact that the crowd was surprised the ring didn’t split right down the middle.

Dawn pulled her knee up to her chin, and held her leg in agony. She was on her side now, almost in a fetal position. Gwen hovered over her, and suddenly drove her foot into Dawn’s back.

Dawn screamed in pain.

The screams only flew over Gwen’s head though, they were just another sound now.

Adrenaline tends to do that...it tends to make every sound a harmony with the other sounds.

Sounds don’t matter in a fight.

Gwen lifted Dawn up and hooked her arm over Dawn’s head.

END OF THE RAINBOW!

The floating suplex brought the crowd to its feet. They had never before seen such a suplex done with such grace.

As quick as they had come to their feet for Gwen though, they were just as quick to rally behind Dawn who was falling victim to the count now.

1...

2...

3...

Dawn was hurt. She was hurt bad, but she wasn’t hurt to the point where she didn’t think she was out of this contest. She felt like she could still give one more burst, and win this bout.

4...

5...

She would let the count go, and she would let her energy regenerate. Then, she would strike.

6...

7...

8...

Now!

Dawn got to her feet as quickly as she could. It wasn’t very fast, but it was speedy enough to catch Gwen off guard.

Gwen came charging with a clothesline, but Dawn ducked under Gwen’s extended arm. Gwen turned around, and was met with a devastating roundhouse kick that sent her into a downward spiral towards the mat.

Dawn was exhausted, she’d lost a lot of blood...the red stains on the mat were proof of that. She stumbled backwards until she was leaning on the cage. She listened to the count, and hoped with all her heart that it would get to ten.

1...

2...

3...

This was it, Gwen had lost the third battle.

4...

5...

Dawn had gotten the better of her this time.

6...

7...

No, she wasn’t willing to lose this one.

8...

She had to find her feet.

9...

There, they were where they had always been...relying on the strength of her heart.

10--

No! Gwen got to her feet just before the number ten could be reached.

She wobbled for a moment, and she saw the anger in Dawn’s face. The anger Gwen knew so well.

Dawn made an attempt at rushing towards Gwen, but her own fatigue made her feet drag pitifully. She lifted a foot and went to drive it into the side of Gwen’s head, but Gwen simply blocked it with her hands and then began furiously punching Dawn in the face.

HARD LUCK OF THE IRISH!

That’s what sent Dawn to the mat, The Hard Luck Of The Irish.

For good measure, Gwen added in an Emerald Synthesis and then stepped away.

The count started.

1...

2...

3...

Dawn wanted to get up, but she couldn’t find the strength.

4...

5...

6...

She was absolutely drained of all energy.

7...

8...

9...

She looked over at Nord, and he knew he was going to be carrying her to the back once the bell had been sounded.

10.

Gwen’s heart soared at the victory, and that’s when the adrenaline wore off. She looked down at the battered body of Dawn Van Dammage, and she knelt down by Dawn’s head.

She grabbed Dawn’s shoulders, and lifted her into a sitting position until Nord could come into the ring and grab her.

“I’ll see y’next week lass.” Gwen called out to Dawn as Nord carried her away.

Dawn had just enough strength to smile before Nord and herself disappeared into the backstage area.

Gwen then took her exit, letting the fans pat her on the back and get some of her blood on their fingers.

Gwen-2 Dawn-1

Lotus listened as she sat down in the chair opposite from his desk. She placed her Woman’s title peacefully on the desk in front of her as she leaned back comfortably in the leather seat. “You called me down for something?”

“Yes I did,” he said. Joe pulled the title closely in front him, looking at his own reflection in its gold surface. “What have I done for you Lotus? Tell me. Can you explain to me all that I’ve done for you since you got in here?”

Lotus thought about it and quickly replied, “A lot.”

“A lot?” Joe said smirking. He drops the title on the desk. “A LOT? Everything you are today is because of me! If it wasn’t for me you’d still be in China fighting for NOTHING.” Lotus stayed quiet. “So you tell me something Lotus,” Joe continued. “Why is it that when fucking wrestlers invade my Asylum you decide to come out, than run back?”

“I - that guy…I have a feeling I knew him from somewhere,” Lotus said. “He saved me…”
“OH SO HE SAVED YOU, la-de-fucking-da. I guess the next time you meet you’ll suck his dick!” Joe screamed.

”Don’t you fucking say that!” Lotus screamed back as she slammed her fist down on the table. Joe’s eyes went wide and his mouth went rigid with anger. “I’m…I’m sorry,” Lotus said calmly, breaking down. “I’m…just not myself.”

“You haven’t been yourself since Nerva.” Joe said as he shook his head. He pointed at the door. “Get out of my sight…your useless to me if you’re not a fighter, never mind a winner.”

Lotus backed up one step before fully leaving the room in shame. Joe was right in so many ways and it was clear, but inside her something was confused. Then she finally realized it, saying the name out loud to herself, “Satake...”

Not even bothering to knock on the door, Carnage reached forward and turned the door knob slowly pushing the door open, peaking his head through the gap. Joe was inside, and Cornelius continued to push the door the rest of the way open, letting himself in as his father followed close behind him. As Carnage walked in he noticed that Joe wasn't smiling, and he was pushing himself to his feet at a rather rapid pace. With his feet plodding, Carnage didn't even notice that anything was wrong until..

SMACK!

Suddenly Carnage's head was facing back towards his father, as he held his jaw. With his feelings for Joe already known, Marcus Taylor tried to walk forward towards Joe, "You're going to smack him in front of.." but he was restricted by his son's arm. Marcus' brow raised as he looked confused at the whole situation. Carnage had his head down as he turned to Joe.

"You fucken bastard. You don't show, and they invade? What the fuck?! You been planning this with them you son of a bitch?! Huh? Are you trying to destroy this place from the inside?"

The words stung, as gravity weighed Carnage's head down, and he simply muttered the word, "No."

"What'd you say? You didn't do it? It doesn't make a bit of sense, you're not here, and Biggs Dangsta and company show up? I've put up with enough of your bullshit, not showing up here, asking for money.. I should fire you right here and right now, for being such an incompetent shit..."

The room got really quiet, as Marcus folded his arms and shook his head as he stood back, "...But I'm not. You know why? Cause nobody's gonna get off easy against me, Joe fucken Campbell. You know who I am don't you? No, I'm not just the guy who signs those checks keeping you off welfare..

"I'm the Joe Campbell, who fucken put fWo out of business. Those fucken wrestlers are knocking down my door to try to get here instead of those. And I'm the same fucken Joe Campbell who owns every motherfucker, who's in the goddamned Asylum. Even if they're nobodies. Even if they're fucks who never been able to hold the weight of their ever so common name.

"See, you're not the first. But you better be the fucken last person who expects to cross Joe Campbell, and get off scot free. Should've left you in lockup, left you in there with your daddy.. ask him, I bet he enjoyed it." Joe paused for a minute, "Know what? Get the fuck out of here, I'm sick of wasting my time with shit like you. And don't think you're getting off tonight, you're going to have a match for no showing last week."

Eddie Cheno paced the backstage halls of the Asylum. It'd been a rough week for him, even though the Asylum fans had no idea why. He had a few cuts and bruises that shaped his body from some sort of brawl one can only imagine. He was walking with a slight limp, grimacing with each step. It was odd that he was still pacing back and forth in the condition he was in, but he'd do whatever it took to get his mind off of his own thoughts.

Now, what those thoughts were, we had no idea. The only thing that was for certain, was that Eddie Cheno paced in front of Nicole Carson's locker room door. Like a cage tiger, but not, because that expression is massively over used.

Cheno chose not to knock on the door, instead twisting the door knob and swinging it open in one swift motion. The door quietly banged against the wall as we could hear the pitter patter of water splashing against the ground. A few high pitched squeaks echoed in the room when the water slowly seemed to fizzle out. Cheno didn't really pay much attention to the noise around him, trying to stand comfortably in the middle of a cold concrete room with something wandering around in his mind isn't exactly easy.

That's when Nicole Carson walked out from the back of the room, drying her hair with a towel. A towel that should have been wrapped around her entire body. Cheno's thoughts cleared in an instant as Carson looked up in a state of shock. She immediatly threw the towel over her breasts, dangling it in front of her privates before taking a seat on the bench.
Carson looked down, trying to find something to wear as Cheno cleared his throat. Moments passed. And then even more passed.

"What the hell are you doing here Cheno?"

Cheno cleared his throat again, trying to get something out. "I-I be-... I be tryin'... I wanna funken say..." Cheno shook his head amazed.

"What is it?"

"I be still able ta funken see em wo-mang..."

Carson immediatly placed the towel that was dropping over her formerly exposed breast. She ran her hand through her hair. "Better?"

"Well, I ain't really funken sure..." Cheno paused. "Ya think I can be seein' it da other way? Just so I can funken give ya a proper thought wo-mang."

Carson sneered. "What do you want Cheno."

Cheno shook his head from the daze it was in. "I just be wantin' ta funken say..." Cheno took a deep breath in. It wasn't easy. "I be sorry. I be sorry I be takin' dis funken thing too funken deep. Dis shiznit ain't be worth it ta funken kill each other, ya know Nicole?" Cheno let out the deep breath that he inhaled just moments before. "I just be sorry, is all."

With that, Cheno left the room.

Pain & Suffering Vs The Bullies
(Warehouse Brawl)

It was the Bullies/P&S warehouse, custom made for both teams to carry out their feud in. Last week, The Bullies managed to shrewdly infiltrate the Asylum arena without being detected, and they confronted P&S in the process. However, The Bullies, knowing that they couldn’t pull that stunt off again, made an offer to P&S: their own arena to ‘play’ in; thus the warehouse.

“I Hope You Die” by the Bloodhound Gang blasted throughout the makeshift speakers of the warehouse, and the two rebels… the two invaders… the two 21w patriots made their way out onto the stage. Marc Baiden and Seth Kard started their rivalry with Clayton Richler and Drake Kerrigan just last week and tonight they were planning on adding more fuel to the fire.

The Bullies made their way down to the cage in the center of the warehouse, wearing their 21w tag titles around their waists and both smirking confidently as they entered it for the first time.

Clayton Richler and Drake Kerrigan, collectively known as “Pain & Suffering” in the Asylum made their way out to an array of applause from the tA fans in the warehouse as “Fuck the Police” by Dope played on. Applause was very new to them, and they both froze on the ramp for a few moments, holding their tA tag titles on their shoulders.

Clayton and Drake both shook their heads in disbelief of their support and Clayton stood before the cage, raising a microphone that he was holding to his chest.

“Well, well… there you two are, standing in a cage, like true fighters, finally!” He shouted. Marc and Seth both crossed their arms and glared down at him. “Last week neither of you were even close to gathering enough fortitude to step into that menacing tA cage. Neither of you have been in there before, have you?”

Clayton laughed as the fans urged him and Drake on.

“But don’t worry,” Clayton said reassuringly. “Drake and I are more than willing to give both of you free ass-kicking lessons!” Clayton yelled, tossing the mic down as he and Drake made a run for the cage door.

As soon as Clayton entered the cage, both Bullies ambushed him. Drake followed in but was quickly taken down with a Seth Kard dropkick to his kneecap. Seth and Marc then grabbed onto Clayton and planted him down to the mat with a double hip-toss.

Clayton sat up but Marc quickly locked a dragon sleeper onto him. Seth turned around to try to grab Drake, but saw nothing but a massive chest standing in his way. Suddenly, Drake clamped his hands down on Seth’s throat and slowly began to lift him off the mat in a blatant two-hand chokehold. Marc saw this, broke his dragon sleeper on Clayton and took out Drake’s legs from underneath him.

Drake collapsed to the mat with Seth. Marc stood back up, but only to be pumpkicked by Clayton, sending him flying into the side of the cage and back down to the mat. Clayton quickly took advantage by kicking Marc directly in his face, sending him down to the mat.
Seth and Drake were back up again, duking it out in the corner of the cage, resembling the historic David versus Goliath encounter. The 5’11” Seth shoved the Drake backwards and then hit him with a dropkick, sending him stumbling back into the corner. Seth then ran towards Drake and tried to connect with a flying crossbody, but Drake easily caught Seth and nailed him with a gutbuster drop.

Drake then walked over to Clayton, who had Marc wrapped up in a cloverleaf leg lock. Drake walked around to the other side and stepped down onto Marc’s back to apply more pressure.

Both members of P&S laughed hysterically as Marc yelled out in pain. But suddenly, Seth came to the save by putting all of his power behind a dropkick, finally dropping Drake to the mat. Clayton let go of the hold and took a swing at Seth, only to have Seth duck it and nail him in the jaw with a super kick.

Clayton collapsed to the mat, holding his jaw in pain. Seth was about to go for a pin, forgetting the rules of the Asylum before he heard the referee begin his count…

1…

2…

3…

4…

Seth looked on as Clayton squirmed around on the mat. Drake had suddenly gotten back to his feet, and he nailed Seth down with a massive forearm-smash.

5…

6…

Marc then grabbed Drake from behind and executed a German suplex. Marc then quickly took advantage and locked an Indian deathlock onto the big man, trying to wear him down.
Clayton finally managed to pry himself up to his feet using the steel rungs of the cage as leverage. Seth knew that he had really walloped Clayton with that super kick, so he immediately went back to work. Seth kicked Clayton in his gut, causing him to keel over and then nailed him with a tornado DDT.

Marc continued to strain Drake’s lower body as he kept the Indian deathlock on, but Drake finally managed to pry himself out of it. Drake limped to his feet and Marc grappled with him for a few moments. Drake won the grapple and smashed Marc’s face into the steel cage, causing it to rattle and send Marc down to the mat.

Seth continued to beat up on Clayton in the corner, but was interrupted by a charging Drake, who smashed his elbow into the side of Seth’s face. Drake then looked into the crowd and called for his finisher, “The Wasting”. He grabbed Seth up by his hair and nailed him with a kneeling powerbomb onto his kneecap. Seth’s body crumpled over on the canvas and the referee began his count.

1…

2…

Marc had then gotten back to his feet. He quickly planted a dropkick into Drake’s back, causing him to smash into the cage and fall back down to the mat.

3…

4…

Clayton then looked over at Marc, who was standing directly by the cage.

5…

6…

Clayton took a run at Marc but Marc quickly countered it by backdropping Clayton over the steel cage and onto the hard floor below. The referee stopped his count, looked over, and noticed Clayton lying on the ground outside of the cage. He signaled for the bell, and the fans looked on in sheer shock of what they had just seen. The Bullies had won.

Two wrestlers had just beaten two fighters… inside of the cage. They erupted into spontaneous booing and threw various objects into the cage as the Bullies celebrated inside.

Drake quickly made his way outside of the cage, where Clayton had gotten back to his feet, and was clearly fuming with rage.

Clayton and Drake then walked over to the back of the cage, where the titles were lying on stools. They grabbed their tA tag titles and began to walk away. Clayton then stopped though, and turned around… he looked at the 21w tag titles, just lying there, and then into the ring, at Marc Baiden and Seth Kard, who were both celebrating hysterically. Clayton grabbed the titles and threw one over at Drake, who caught it. They then began to run back up the ramp, carrying all four titles with them.

Many sections of the warehouse crowd laughed after seeing Clayton Richler and Drake Kerrigan charge back up the ramp with both the Asylum Tag Team Championships and the 21w Tag Team Championships, yet Marc Baiden and Seth Kard were still yet to realize.

Inside the cage, Marc Baiden climbed up part of steel mesh, his fist raised in victory, all to provoke the angry Asylum crowd in the warehouse. In the meantime, Seth made his way out of the cage and over to pick up the team’s hard earned 21w Tag Team Championships…

…but where were they?

Seth searched the ringside area frantically for the seemingly missing championships, and once Baiden saw Seth desperately throwing the apron into the air to search under the ring, he quickly left the cage to pull him back. The two exchanged a series of heated words, before something caught Marc Baiden’s eyes up on the ramp…

…the reflection of the gold plated 21w Tag Team Championships.

Kard’s jaw dropped to the floor, while Baiden immediately saw red. Without a moment’s hesitation, Seth ran around the ring, screaming obscenities as he went, while Baiden stayed at ringside, still fuming with the image he just saw.

The very second the team of Pain and Suffering saw Kard bolting up the wooden ramp, they disappeared quickly behind the curtain at the top of the ramp, leaving Seth to wind down to a stop. He turned back around to the ring, and now he too was red with anger. He slowly walked back down the aisle, and back to the other side of the cage, screaming things to his partner as he went.

Meanwhile, Baiden was about to explode, and despite the fact that there was no microphone present, his booming voice could be heard echoing all throughout the warehouse, “Those mother… FUCKERS!! We don’t deserve this!!” he spit at a hysterical Asylum fan in the crowd, “We’ll fucking hurt them, Seth!! We’ll… FUCKING!! HURT!! THEM!!”

Seth couldn't do anything but look on in awe as he came to a stop beside his New York companion, still not able to believe what had just happened. Baiden slowly stopped shaking with rage, returning to his usual, serene outer appearance.

But this wouldn’t be the last time Asylum fans heard from the duo of Marc Baiden and Seth Kard.

Not by a long shot.

The Bullies could guarantee it.

Watching from her corner, Morrigan noted his intent eyes, watching the TV, and one person in particular . . . she shuddered at the look, and turned her face away. She felt sorry for whoever was the target of his ire.

The phone continued to ring, and .desolate spoke without turned, his voice soft. “answer the phone. i’ll be listening. be a good little girl and you won’t get hurt,” he said, and at the last turned his head slightly, starting at her.

She bit her lip as she stood and hobbled over to the phone, the chains connecting the manacles jingling lightly on the carpet. As she walked, the phone continued to ring- whoever it was was persistent, definitely.

She picked up the phone, holding it between both hands, the connecting chain rattling against the receiver. As she brought it up to her ear, she heard an unfamiliar voice yelling into the phone. “You listen to me .desolate, you listen good: I play the games; I will sacrifice you; you will suffer like Greg under your weak knife” The voice screamed into the phone.

“Umm,” Morrigan murmured into the receiver, and the man silenced, clearly perplexed at the woman’s voice on the phone. The voice on the phone cut her off as she spoke.

“Put that scumbag on the phone, you crab-infested whore!”

“One minute and I’ll get him.” Turning away from the phone, she spoke over to .desolate. “It’s for you, I think.”

“really?” He asked dryly, turning his head back. “tell daijah mader to wait, and i’ll speak with him a moment.”

If her hands were free, she would have scratched her head. Daijah? How did he know the name of the caller- even she didn’t. Shrugging, she spoke into the phone. “Daijah Mader? He’ll be a moment.” As she turned towards .desolate, checking where he was, she suddenly brought the phone back up to her ear. His back was turned as she whispered into the phone, “help me.”

“be polite to our caller, dear,” .desolate said softly, and she murmured a “Sir” into the phone.
After a few moments, .desolate took the phone from Morrigan and, as he put it to his ear, pointed her back towards her corner. “i’ve been waiting for your call. took you long enough.”
As Daijah replied, .desolate held the phone away. Morrigan shook her head- he was definitely loud. She wondered what .desolate had done to him, to enrage the man so much.

“You listen to me, .desolate. I’m going to kill you like you killed Greg. You hear me?”
“you really should calm down. he was just a vagrant. a nothing. but then again, weren’t you one, too?” .desolate asked softly, goading the other man.

Daijah suddenly calmed down, his voice seething with anger, yet soft. “Put that slut back on the phone,” he hissed. .desolate shrugged his shouldes and pointed to Morrigan.

The simple word Daijah said to her sent her heart beating rapidly in her breast, but she carefully schooled her face to show nothing. “Yes,” he said. And with a click, he hung up.

He turns off the hydraulics and the electric wheel chair continues down the hallway. He strolls by Joe Campbell’s office, the door is wide open. Joe Campbell looks up as Booty Brown looks in. The music is thunderous; Joe Campbell screams at him, "Turn off the bloody music you wanker!" Booty Brown's eyes light up, "Whachu say nigga? I'll bust a cap in yo ass!"

Booty Brown flips off Campbell and continues down the corridor, you can hear Joe Campbell faintly in the background screaming, "Bastard, you fucking BASTARD!"

Booty Brown is far away from Campbell’s office when he stops at the locker room of Lotus, he turns off his system and pushes himself through the door. Lotus is sitting on a bench with her head in her hands.

"Baby, baby... what’s the problem? You know you can call daddy when there is a problem!"
Lotus expected a quiet time in her locker room, she wanted to step through the door into an empty space where she could sit and relax after her meeting with Joe. But when she heard Booty’s annoying voice, she wanted to hit something. “Leave me alone,” she said, restraining herself.

“Comeon baby, you know you need me as much as I need you,” Booty said as he rolled over.

“Look, I even broke my arm for you when those guys invaded.”

“If your arm is broken…why are you in a wheelchair?” Lotus asked.

“Uh - it’s the 21st century baby!” Booty said idiotically. Lotus laughed and it felt good to. Through all the stress and drama…an old horny man was making her feel better. Then she started to cry as she realized how pitiful her life was getting. “Aw baby, why are you crying? Come to Booty,” he said comforting her. He hugged her and she hugged him back, the warmth was soothing. “I can’t fight anymore….but now I’m gonna be by your side whenever you fight,” Booty said.

“Okay,” Lotus agreed. “But…I’m warning you now. Do anything stupid and I’ll hurt you.”
Booty chuckled, “Yeah sure no problem baby.”

“That includes your hands,” Lotus said as she felt Booty’s hand sliding downward towards her ass. “An inch closer and I’ll cut them off.”

Booty's eyes gauged out of his head as he looked up at the face of Lotus, a smile barely making is way out of her tainted body. "Baby, don't you worry... someday I will have youuu-" He drags the word as he thinks for a second, "you’ll eventually have everyone’s attention and respect as a fighter."

“Yes mam?” He questioned timidly.

Gwen chuckled at the man’s fear.

“Simmer lad, I happen t’be far too tired to extract even the wee’est of ass-whoopings” Gwen said.

This made the technician a bit more comfortable, and he listened as Gwen continued.
“What was the deal with me music t’night?”

“We played the tape you gave us upon you’re debut, the one we’ve always been using...somebody must have recorded over it. I promise you, it wasn’t any of us...we know better mam.”

Gwen nodded, she was a bit confused, but figured there was nothing she could do about it. She gave the lad a pat on the back before departing.

Time for the Return.

Time for the Light.

Time for Steve Christ to reclaim HIS Extreme Championship and take out Providence.
Walking down the hallway, Christ thought about the match ahead. Any Extreme match was difficult, but a match against two opponents at once would be severely taxing. Steve thought about his stategy and his approach, wondering perhaps mostly about Carnage. He knew Providence’s motivation and where he would be going, but what would Carnage be like in this match? Where would he stand in all of this?

Unfortunately for Christ, all those thoughts faded out as soon as the ladder cracked his skull.

As started to round a corner, a ladder swung from the other side of the wall, leveling Christ in the side of the head. Christ immediately fell back against the wall clutching his head, when two more swings of the ladder to the ribs doubled him over. As Christ struggled to stay on his feet, the man holding the ladder stepped out of the shadows and into the light…

…and Providence looked down in disgust.

“You talk about the ‘light’ so very much, Steve, but you’re apparently not too bright,” he said while lifting the ladder up once more. “How could you expect to come back without getting fully healed and actually defend yourself? What the hell were you thinking?”

Providence swung the ladder down once more, cracking the side of Christ’s head and busting open a cut near his ear. Christ collapsed to the floor, and Providence shoved the ladder forward, pushing one of its vertical sides against Steve’s throat. Christ tried to speak, but he was now struggling to breathe.

“You can feel it can’t you? You can feel the life slipping out of your body, can’t you?” Providence asked, knowing full well he would not receive an answer. Suddenly, Providence shoved the ladder forward with all of his might, pushing it harder and harder against Christ’s throat. Christ flailed about, obviously unable to breathe. His face slowly started to change color, and it appeared the end was near.

Then, Providence let go.

As he shoved the ladder aside and stood back up over Christ, Providence looked down at his adversary. “You remember this, Steve,” he said without moving a muscle. “You remember that I could have ended all right here…right now. You remember that.”

Providence(c) Vs Carnage
(Extreme Title)

As Carnage climbed into the ring, he began to bounce around while still thinking. Why's he the only one put in charge of fighting 21w? Is he the only one strong enough? Is he the Asylum's best fighter? Is he the most intimidating of them all? Or is it the fact that he's just the best sacrificial lamb that Joe Campbell had to offer?

Carnage jettisoned that idea from his head. It didn't matter why he was sent on these missions, it only mattered that he got the job done, that had to equal good in Joe's eyes, and his whole purpose right now was impressing Campbell. For the second time in a few weeks, Carnage was being placed in a match that was some kind of punishment set in place by Joe. The last time he put a five star effort against Eddie Cheno and this time....?

"Forty Six and Two," by Tool and the crowd began to pound down on Carnage's opponent with a house load of hatred. Providence didn't seemed fazed at all, as the former NEWA wrestler marched down to the ring, he got one bird out of the way, all he had to do was to make Carnage hurt badly. He cracked his knuckes as he climbed the cage steps, before stepping over the rim and into the Asylum. As he bounced around making eye contact with his opponent for the night, as he inspected Cornelius he heard the announcer make it known that this was an extreme rules match. The crowd cheered that notion. But the moment they heard that the Extreme title wasn't going to be on the line, a thunderous boo echoed through the expanse of the arena. The bell rang. Let's get it on!

Both men eyed each other, primed for attack, as they both circled the cage. Individual yells for Carnage were heard coming from the crowd, as the man himself lunged forward locking himself into an arm and collar tie up. Both wrestlers turned fighters fought for advantage, suddenly grabbing tighter onto Carnage, Providence swung the former Extreme champion hard into the cage wall causing him to drop and hold his rib cage. Providence stalked overtop of Carnage reaches down and grabbed hair lifting Carnage up to his feet, with a few steps back, Providence used the moment to propel Cornelius Corteia above the rim, and crashing down to the thinly matted arena floor.

The hissing boo slithered from the crowd, as Providence jumped down to the mats. He walked around eyeing Carnage who was slowly pushing himself back to his feet, Providence went over to the announce position and snatched the chair up from under J.P.P., slamming the chair shut Providence stood right over top of Carnage, as if he was Barry Bonds waiting for the pitchers to stop pitching around him. Finally Carnage got his head up, and Providence swung the chair but wiffed it as Cornelius drove a shoulder in Providence's gut slamming his spin hard into the announce table.

Holding his back, while grimacing, Providence slid down to the mat in pain. Carnage reached down and yanked the chair clear from Providence's grasp, getting a good handle of it, Carnage lifted it high in the air and slammed the chair down only to miss as Providence rolled out of the way. Carnage slammed the chair down again, this time he connected with Providence's back, as the Extreme champion dropped as he screamed in pain, hand held tending to his back.

This time it was Carnage grabbing hair, as he lifted Providence to his feet. Hand grabbing his arm, and he swung Providence for an Irish Whip towards the steel railing, but it was reversed by Providence sending Carnage flying with tons of velocity. The force sent Providence stumbling like a drunkard, as Carnage crashed into the railing, and was propelled into the crowd. Random fans rushed forward just to touch Carnage, Providence shook his head as he stood placing his hands on his hips.

As Providence got there, he placed his hands on the railing and yanked it back so it invaded the mat area, Providence climbed over the railing.

Not slowly his attack he yanked Carnage to his feet, and threw him hard backfirst into the the railing. Walking slowly like a predator, Providence suddenly strikes out with a knife edge chop to the chest of Cornelius. The crowd echoed out the Ric Flair call, as Providence repeated the process. Finally he went for another one, and Carnage reversed sending him back first into the railing, Carnage went for a punch which was blocked by Providence. Low kick by the Extreme champion, doubling Carnage over. Shoving a fan, Providence got his hands on a chair, and he snapped it shot, gearing it back he slammed it hard down on Carnage's head.

The force sending Carnage back two steps, but as he stood up after getting his bearings the crowd cheered his show of resilience. He headed back towards Providence, swing two Carnage drops to the concrete floor. Providence watches in awe as Carnage stands up again, and screams as the crowd responds with a loud heroes' cheer. But it was all shut out as another chair shot simply destroyed all signs of intelligence in Cornelius' head.
Providence grabbed a hold of Carnage's shirt and shoved him over the railing, and soon after jumped over behind him.

He watched as Carnage fought his way to his feet, helping him the rest of the way Providence grabbed a hold of his head and thrusted him up onto the announce table. And there was Providence standing on the table as well, he placed Carnage in powerbomb position and the crowd buzzed from the possibilities. He lifted Carnage up for a powerbomb, and suddenly changed it sending Cornelius Corteia flying back with the Schism, missing the target of the Asylum rim, but causing damage nontheless as Carnage went head first into the cage!

The crowd echoed chants citing their worshipping of the number two, as Providence dusted himself off. His eyes darted around at what to go for next, and then it finally came to him, the metal ring steps. He grasped a hold of them, and yanked them from the floor. Walking over methodically, he stood over Carnage and rammed it as hard as possible into his gut. Sending a shock through the body of Carnage. But it didn't stop with one, as Providence nailed him two more times hard. Just dropping the steps on the ground, Providence went to grab Carnage's hair, and then he lead his opponent up and into the cage.

Taking two steps back down Providence reached and grabbed a hold of the chair left at the ringside area, and tossed it to the inside, then he reached under the cage, and pulled out a little blue bag, and threw it in as well. Providence was in the cage with Carnage, and he lifted him up to his feet, and nailed a vicious Gutwrench powerbomb putting more on the head of Carnage as it bounded off the cage mat.

Providence reached down, grabbing the blue bag, Providence untied it yanking out handcuffs which immediatley sent the crowd into boos. One clicked around Cornelius's wrist, and then it clicked onto the cage. The high pitched snap woke something up in the former fWo Hardcore Champion, as Carnage started to kick and scream and throw his left arm One actually finding it's target with Providence's midsection, causing the champion to drop the other pair of handcuffs, while doubling over.

Holding the jewels, Providence looked up anger glazed over his eyes, as he charged forward and thrusted his hip right into the chest of sending Carnage back down, ending his fight. Reaching down Providence grabbed a hold of the other handcuff and locked Carnage's left hand to the outside of the cage. Providence reached down for the chair, but stopped short as he eyed Carnage's eyes looking dead at him, Providence shook his head, as he came to the other side and climbed over the cage to the outside.

Then back up the steps which are positioned directly behind Carnage. He snuck his left arm under the gap created by Carnage's arm being handcuffed to the outside, and then he brought his right arm right against the neck of Carnage, and with major force Providence locked the submission hold on Carnage, as the fighter tried to fight it. The official standing right next to him, asking him if he quits, Carnage was saying he didn't but it didn't matter soon enough..

Carnage wouldn't respond, and the bell rang. Providence was the winner. But it wasn't his music playing in the background as the crowd booed it was..

"Smack my Bitch Up," by Prodigy...

"You know that right now this is nothing personal don't you?" Carnage breathed slowly as his chest fell and his head slightly fell to the side. "But I want to know, after all I did for you, I don't appreciate you coming down, and pissing in my drink." Carnage used his strength remaining in his body to lift his head up straight so he stared at Joe, and looked deep into his eyes. "But seriously, I want to know something before I even think about anything else.. I want to know do you plan to fuck up MY day again?" Joe got close to Carnage's face as he raised the mic back to his mouth, "Seriously, if you plan on fucking up my day again, I'm gonn.."

Carnage interrupted Joe as his shaken voice sprang out loud even without a mic, "No!"

"What's that?" Joe cocked his head, and moved his microphone close to the face of Carnage.

"No, no, no.. I won't.. I won't do it."

"You won't do what?"

"I'm not.. I won't fuck up your day, I won't." Carnage's head dropped again. Elsewhere in the cage, Nerva took a glance at Providence, something didn't feel right inside of Providence as guilt was written over his face, forcing him to look away from the former Asylum champion.

"That's exactly what I wanted to hear from you." Carnage yanked both arms, up but he was still chained down by the handcuffs, he sighed but caught Joe's attention. "I'm not done with you yet. See, I also want to know who the fuck owns you?" Joe got close again, "Who owns you?"

The mic was shoved back into Carnage's face as he replied, "You."

Joe was laughing with joy, but his interrogation wasn't done. "So you learned your lesson? You won't do this again, because you know what happens if you cross me?.. Right? Isn't that right, Cornelius?"

Something about the way he said his name, sent chills up Carnage's spine, and all Carnage could do was nod his head. Something about this just didn't feel right at all.

"Okay, get him loose, he's done for the night." Joe's theme hit the pa system, and he looked towards Providence and nodded as the two, and Nerva headed back to the back, as the ring crew rushed down to unlock Carnage.

“That was a fucking great performance out there, Darren,” Joe said with a grin. “I knew you would be able to get the job done. That bastard never had a fucking chance against you .”
Providence smiled, always glad to see that Joe was pleased with his effort. “I appreciate that, Joe,” he said. “I will always work hard for you. You are the reason I’m here, and I will never forget that.”

Providence started to walk away, but Joe reached out and grabbed his shoulder and smiled. “That’s not all, Darren,” Joe said. Providence turned back a little confused but anxious to hear what Joe had to say. “You see, you’ve been working hard a lot lately. Very fucking hard. In fact, you’re probably the hardest worker in Team Campbell. You got that Extreme Title away from that arse Christ. You’ve held onto it for over a month. You beat Carnage’s arse tonight and Christ’s. I think you deserve a reward.”

Definitely a little surprised at Joe’s apparent generosity, Providence smiled. “That’s great, Joe. What’s my reward?”

“How do you think one night with Nerva doing whatever you tell her sound?”

Providence is speechless.

As Joe stepped inside the circular mesh cage that had almost become a part of him, then, the crowd quickly hushed. Obviously they were a smart crowd, because they recalled what Joe had promised earlier in the night.....He had promised to deliver another top name and he had stated that he would announce that name later in the night.

Well now was later in the night.

And the smirk spread across his face was there for all to see.

"I'm gonna get right to the point....Earlier this evening I announced that I had secured the services of someone that I know you're all familiar with...And while this guy has the power, the speed and the stamina to mix it with the best of them, that is far from being the only plus point in this signing."

They were listening closely as Joe strutted over to the other side of the stage...

"You see, heh...because, as much as this will be the Asylum's gain....it will be an even bigger loss for someone else....That someone, as I'm sure you all know. being a certain Mr Mark Knight."

Joe grinned. And a murmur began to enamate from all those in attendance.

"And his promotion....The name of which I would mention, but even WE can't resort to language of that foul a nature."

The fans cheered in a agreement.

"Ah, FUCK IT....It's 21w! Yep! TONIGHT, The Asylum nicks one of the biggest stars ever to serve that queer cunt, and his piece of shite promotion!"

The crowd exploded with cheers.

"Yes, yes. Quite astonishing, isn't it?...Surprising that anything good could ever come out of that DUMP...But alas, I have found someone. But I can't take too much credit. No, it's not like it was difficult. The guy stood out like a sore thumb. This guy.....

Is a MACHINE...

So without further ado...I present to you!..."

Suddenly, the lights went out and the death metal sounding of "Cthulu Dawn" by Cradle of Filth burst throughout the arena. And Joe continued regardless....

"THE DEVIL MACHINE!! MISTER....HAUNT!!"

The crowd waited in high anticipation...They remembered the last time Joe had said he'd signed Haunt...and he didn't deliver. But there had been rumours flying out of 21w that Haunt was unhappy and sentiments that he was about to defect to the Asylum were echoed by a wide range of people...

Then he stepped out.

It was true.

The 21w World Heavyweight Champion. 21w's biggest star.

The number one acquisition.

"WELCOME TO HELL, STEEEVE!" Joe boomed, as Haunt marched down the ramp with a rise grin on his face, the fans excited by his presence.

"Now, doesn't this feel like home?!" Joe beemed, as Haunt stepped to within reaching distance, before raising a microphone to his mouth.

"It sure does, Joe.....It sure does."

Haunt pulled out from behind his back, a few pieces of paper that were bound together and this caused Joe's eyes to light up.

"Oh, there she is, Steve. In all her glory."

Haunt nodded, before pulling out a pen.

"As you know, I've already signed it." Joe rubbed his hands together, almost watering at the mouth as Haunt prepared to sign right on the bottom of the third page.

Then, he did.

"Whooo!!" Joe yelled, before taking the documents and motioning to flick to page three, when Haunt grabbed him by the wrist, quickly making eye contact with the Mancunian.

"Why don't we just shake first?" Haunt asked.

Joe's eyes swam down and then upwards... "Yeah...Yeah, sure."

As both men shook, 'He's a Magic Man' by Heart hit and out stepped The Devil Machine's manager...The Magick Man.

"Hey Joe!......Steve."

Haunt turned and smiled, then nodded in acknowledgement of his manager. Joe seemed perplexed, but put on a fake smile nevertheless, before saying "To what do we owe this pleasure?"

Magick beemed. "I just wanted to say, JOE!..."

Campbell was looking on..."Yes?"

"I just wanted to say......How refreshing it is to be working in a new environment now!...Steve and I...It's just great! I have to say....and, also, I know Steve feels the same way about this..."

Magick stroked his chin... "That MARK...KNIGHT guy was such a drag!"

Joe tilted his head back and allowed himself a chuckle. "Yes, well, I can tell that and I don't even know the guy..."

"YEP." Magick retorted, with his usual exuberance, before Haunt raised his microphone and a still laughing Joe turned to face him as he spoke.

"My manager is right...And that MIKE RITZ!...Jesus, the guy's pathetic. 'Golden' GLEN MILLER?...I mean, you call these guys ATHLETES?!"

Joe was still laughing to himself. This was great. He had just stolen away the prized asset of his rival company...And as if that wasn't a big enough ego boost going into Immortals, the guy was already taking shots at his former promotion, showing them up and saying all the things that Joe wanted to say but sometimes couldn't be arsed to.

And Haunt wasn't done there...

"It's a joke! 21w is a fucking joke!...Guys like Freakred...He thinks he's hardcore! FREAKRED? HARDCORE? It's just laughable...And then Kinkade..."

*BOOOOOO*

Joe sniffed, as Haunt continued.

"Neil Garratt...VICTIM...Masafumi Satake? Can you say...HAS-BEEN?!..."

Joe twitched. Why Haunt seemed to feel the need to run through the ENTIRE 21w roster was beyond him. But he wasn't complaining....Then Magick Man took over the mantle again, causing Joe and every fan to swivel their heads and look down the aisle once more...

"HEY STEVE!!...Heh, heh...What about that ZOTAN guy?!"

Haunt clapped his hands together, before shaking a fist, then turning it into a waving finger.

"No! No!....The BOWELL Movement?! What the FUCK is that all about?!"

"I KNOW!" Haunt's manager boomed from up the aisle...It was apparent that the two were having a great time now. Everybody else, however, was kind of hoping that would be the end of it...

But it wasn't.

"BIGGS DANGSTA!!" Haunt bellowed. The crowd booed ferociously at the mere mention of the name, but they were promptly interrupted as Haunt continued reeling off names...

"MARC BAIDEN!!...DAVATTA INC!!...NINJA K!! DAIJAH MADER!! JASON TRONIC!! EXXA DECIMAL!! DERECHO!! THE LIONS!! THE YOUNG ONES!!"

Haunt was holding his stomach, laughing still. Joe went to grab the microphone but Haunt put his hand up quickly...It was official. He'd just mentioned the names of every single currently active member in 21w.

"Hey, enough talk of 21w, Steve! These people didn't pay their hard earned money to listen to people talking about 21w." Magick shouted.

"Finally" Campbell thought to himself. "Something I agree with."

But as Joe placed the microphone by his lips and prepared to end proceedings on a high note, Magick Man interrupted...

AGAIN.

"Hey Joe!"

Joe turned his head once more. This time very slowly, before admonishing a look Magick Man's way, as if to say 'what the fuck is it?' Magick just laughed.

"You know that contract you signed earlier today?"

Joe paused for a moment, in thought...He had signed it earlier, then handed it back to Haunt and his manager. So what?

"Errr, yeah." Was Joe's short response.

"Well..." Magick continued... "It's quite funny really....Because, if you had bothered to read the small print, then you would have realised that it stated, quite clearly...If any names copyrighted by the 21w brand are mentioned on tA's 'Show', then it's simple enough....you my friend *pointing* Ya gotta pay the royalties."

Suddenly, the crowd were confused.

Things had just got serious...

And then it dawned on Joe....

"You... I... eh... What?"

"You heard me." Stated Magick, in a complete personality switch. "That's a lot of money, Campbell. That's a LOT of money. Because in case you're deaf, we just reeled off every name on the 21w roster. Now you owe those guys...You owe money to every single active superstar on the 21w roster."

Joe grabbed the paper tightly, not even thinking about looking at it. His eyes were transfixed on the man down the aisle.

"Is this some kind of FUCKING JOKE?!"

"No, Joe....It's no joke."

The crowd started to boo. Pieces of trash were thrown at the manager, but Joe put his arm out, asking them to cease...

"Well, you fucking idiot...The joke is on YOU...Because, in case YOU'RE deaf...AND BLIND...Your fucking 'client' just signed a mother fuckin' contract to the Asylum. So, my tacky little magic friend, this means that I now OWN MR HAUNT'S ARSE!!...So put that in your fuckin' pipe and smoke it!! I own Mr Haunt! And there aint a DAMN thing you can do about it!!"

The crowd roared; Haunt's signature being the ONLY thing that was stopping Joe from ripping up the contract that was set to burn a deep hole in his pockets. He didn't care, though...He had Haunt...and he had the signature.

"So I guess we won't be needing you anymore, MR MAGIC!...Now, why don't you crawl back to wherever the fuck you came from?! Because Haunt is officially property of the Asylum! Buh bye!"

Joe waved, patronisingly, whilst clutching the paper with Haunt's signature tightly. No one was going to take it away from him...But Magick stood firm.

"Hey Joe..."

"I told you to go to the fucking..."

Magick interrupted again. "HEY JOE!!...Wait, that's a Jimi Hendrix song....Aaaanyway. What was I going to say? OH YEAH! Why don't you actually bother take a little LOOK...at that contract, CAMPBELL?"

Joe bit his lip. But Magick cut him off before he'd even started, once more...

"Or better still!...Why don't you hold that baby up to the camera, so that the big screen can display it for everyone to see?"

Joe lifted the paper up and faced the camera, then peered over at the big screen as he pulled back the first two pages to reveal, in large, uncompromising letters.....

DIE.

Joe gupled.

The fans booed almightily as Joe paused, then began to throw a complete fit...He jumped up and down, cursing and screaming at the top of his lungs before proceeding to rip the contract apart.

"JOKE'S ON YOU, PRICK!!! I'M RIPPING THIS FUCKER APART!!! SEE THIS?!! THIS IS WHAT'S GONNA FUCKING HAPPEN TO YOU AT IMMORTALS!! YOU SEE THIS?!! YOU SEE THIS, YOU FUCKING TARDS?!! AAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA"

Joe tore it to shreds as Magick laughed...

"Hey Joe...stop for a second....I think it's about to pour..."

"Hur?"

......

And then, a bound set of documents fell from the rafters and into the cage...Joe looked down at it, then picked it up...It was a photocopy of the thing he'd just torn up.

"Fucking..."

Joe tore it up, instantly...but then another fell...then another, then another...

Then ten...

Then twenty...

Until copies were literally raining down upon the freaking out Joe Campbell, as the crowd booed and Magick Man was in hysterics...

Joe scampered around, jumping up, doing anything he could to catch as many as he could...and rip them to shreds...But hundreds and hundreds fell down. Floating around, nestling and piling up in the ring...the commotion slowly came to a stop and Joe sunk to his knees. He realised it was all mind games...They must have had hundreds more stashed away...

Joe put his hands over his eyes...

Was he crying?

Surely not. Surely not Joe Campbell.….Distraught?

He threw some of the papers up in the air and watched them fall back down again. He was in despair. He'd been played for a complete and utter twat...He'd been embarrassed, once again, on his own show...and by people from 21w.

Joe looked around desperately.

"GO TO COMMERCIAL... RUN A FUCKING PROMO! ROLL THE FUCKING CREDITS... NOW... NOWNOWNOWNOWNOW!" Joe screamed with rage.

But nothing happened.

Added to that, he now had thousands and thousands of dollars in royalties to pay out, to EACH and every contracted 21w superstar.

This was the ultimate insult.

And the question racing through Joe's mind right now was...Does it get any worse than this?

...Well, actually...Yes.

Becaue then Joe went cold...An icy shiver of fear dripped down his back as he was suddenly lifted up by the back of his collar...spun around.

Kicked to the gut, then lifted up vertically, the Asylum fans watching on in awe, as they witnessed The Devil Machine doing what he does best...

GENOCIDE.

The 21w World Heavyweight Champion had just hit a jackhammer slam on the Asylum owner, leaving him sprawled out in the middle of the ring.

As Asylum's Show gradually faded out to a picture nobody thought they would ever see, Joe Campbell lay motionless in the center of his own creation, standing over him... the 21wrestling world champion Mr. Haunt.

Nobody had gone to commercials.

Nobody had come to Joe's aid.

Nobody cared.

It appeared as though Joe, was finally paying the dearest price of all, the price of ignorance.