Worse.

"Evening." the voice from the other side of the door says. "Who's this?"

"Dalton." he replies promptly.

The door doesn't open for a while, and A.D. is soon dripping wet from the rain that's pouring down on him. "Are you going to let me in?" he says loudly, as he shields his face from the rain. "Hello?"

Suddenly, the door flies open. A.D. jumps back, managing to avoid door to head contact, and sighs when he sees who's just opened the door for him.

Borst, wielding a baton that he'd taken from the security guard that he'd just beaten up. A.D. is about to say something, but before he has a chance, Borst smacks A.D. around the head with the baton. A.D. falls to the concrete holding his head, as the rain continues to pour down. Borst steps back inside the building for a moment, and pulls out a referee. "Count him then!" Borst shouts. "COUNT!"

No sooner than the ref has begun his count, A.D. is back on his feet. He staggers backwards and points at Borst, who has a malicious grin on his face. A.D. tries to say something, but has trouble speaking, due to Borst's fist engulfing his mouth.

It appears that we have an impromptu match here, if you can call it a match. Borst has ambushed A.D. in the parking lot, and brought his own referee and camera man.

Borst begins to kicks viciously at A.D. who's down on the floor, and decides to go for his trademark stamp to the groin. A.D. has that scouted well, and grabs Borst's foot, pulling him down to the floor. The two begin to roll around on the floor, brawling. Rolling into puddles, over stones and shards of broken glass and other litter.

A.D. catches Borst with a poke to the eye, and quickly gets to his feet. Borst gets up soon after and lunges wildly at A.D. One quick duck later, A.D. has landed a jab to Borst's sternum, knocking the wind out of Borst completely.

A.D. pushes Borst into a parked car, Borst's back ramming into the side, and his elbows denting the doors. Before Borst has a chance to even scream out in pain, A.D. has grabbed Borst around the neck, flung him round and thrown him head first through the windscreen!

Shards of broken glass fly everywhere, as Borst lays over the bonnet of the car. A.D. shakes his head and staggers away from the car slowly, still feeling the effects of the baton shot to his head moments earlier. "Get the fuck out of my face!" A.D shouts, before grabbing the camera and throwing it to the ground. There's a loud crunch and the picture goes black, as faint sounds of the referee administrating his ten count. The count reaches 5 before the camera goes completely dead.

"Can you believe that there's a growing number of people in the Asylum who're trying to make a name for themselves by just saying the word "fuck", a lot?" Beef asked. As he said the magic word, the worker calmly added another mark on his sheet.

"I mean, dude, what the fuck is that, anyway? Why the fuck would any fucking man want to fucking add to the fucking Fuck Count, anyway?" Beef inquired. The worker turned to look at Beef with his eyebrow raised, but he said nothing and made the marks.

"FUCK?" Steve suggested. Another mark.

"Well, fuck, man, maybe I should fucking add to the fucking Fuck Count. What do you fucking think, Steve?" Beef asked.

"SURE." Steve said, a hint of a smile coming over the rarely-smiling face of Steve.

"Well, alright, then. Hey, Worker guy! WATCH THIS!" Beef said, taking a really deep breath.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..." began Beef, as the cameras cut away.

A.D. has Borst pinned up against a wall and plants his knee firmly into Borst's mid section. Borst is a complete mess, as per usual, with his entire face and upper body covered in blood after being throw through a windscreen earlier.

A.D. takes a step back from Borst, who's bent over holding his stomach and gets ready to unleash a hard right hand. Borst suddenly reaches up and grabs A.D. t-shirt, pulling A.D. towards himself, only to duck out of the way and send A.D.'s head crashing into the brick wall!

Following the sickly thud, the ref begins to count. He reaches seven, but he has to stop his count and start it again due to Borst falling to the floor. The ref begins a double count, but he doesn't get any further than two, as both men manage to get to their feet.

The brawl continues, with A.D. and Borst dragging each other around the parking lot, until they eventually reach the exit. A.D. swings at Borst, but Borst ducks and throws A.D. towards the main road outside the parking lot. A.D. rolls onto the road, causing an oncoming car to do an emergency stop. A.D. quickly scrambles out of the road, but walks into a boot to the face from Borst. A.D. shows his resilience, getting straight up, and he staggers down the road away from Borst.

Borst follows A.D., leaving a trail of blood behind him, but his excessive bleeding doesn't seem to have a negative effect on him... it's almost doing the opposite. Borst suddenly runs at A.D., but A.D ducks and backdrops Borst into a bush! A.D. drops to his knees and holds the back of his head. He must have a concussion by now, after the blows to the head from a baton and a brick wall.

Eventually, A.D. gets back to his feet and decides to look in the bush for Borst.

He's not in there anymore though. He's crawled out on the other side of the bush and found himself outside a bar. A.D scrambles through the bush to find Borst, and the camera follows. Unfortunately, the camera gets caught up in the bushes, and transmission is once again lost.

"Shut up Campbell," said Stephanie Connor as she stood next to Lotus. "You gonna ask her to sign in blood too?"
"Listen you fucking sl-" Joe stopped himself mid-sentence and smiled from his angry look. Lotus looked at Stephanie for advice and she shook her head.

"Sign it. It's just like all the other normal contracts," Stephanie said assuring Lin. As she grabbed the pen with her right hand she pressed down and signed it.

Joe's eyes lightened as he watched her sell her soul. He took it and put it in his desk and put his hand out to shake Lotus', "Welcome to the Asylum...champ."

Lotus shook it and felt Joe's grip tighten as his eyes got a little crazy. Steph pulled her away and they left, as she turned her head to look he smiled and waved at her goodbye.

"He's starting to act a little crazy now," Lin commented as she shut the office door behind her.

"He's always like that, listen I'm gonna go get dressed for my match. You go look around get to know some of the good people in Asylum and eat or something. I'll meet you after the show," Steph said as she started walking towards her locker room. She froze and called Lin, "Watch your back...I'm serious."

Lin noded as both woman walked off seperate directions.

Maybe it was the way he was now strutting around the Asylum locker rooms, looking for all the world like a freak who strutted worse than Vince McMahon impersonating Ric Flair. Maybe it was the fact that he wasn't wearing his normal superhero outfit, but was wearing a pair of black pants, and more importantly, a shirt that said "I AM THE G.O.A.T.".

Or maybe it was the fact that Janito was heading toward an angry Borst, who’d shortly beforehand sent A.D. tumbling down a small flight of stairs.

Janito stood beside the sweating Borst, who wiped his brow and spat, followed by a "What the fuck do you want?" cues Janito’s sporting of a huge frown.

"What do you want?" Borst asked.

"I have come to complain! You made fun of Triple H and his injury a few months ago! How could you? It was a legitimate, potentially career-threatening injury, and you made fun of him! You bastard! That wasn't funny at all! It was the unfunniest of funny! I hated it!" Janito yelled.

Borst takes a moment to think about it.

"Are you done?" he asked.

"...I think so, yeah. Oh wait, it wasn't funny! Yeah!" Janito said.

"Okay, good." Borst said. He waits a moment.

Then he kicked Janito right square in the nuts.

"Fuckhead." Borst commented before leaving Janito right on the floor, clutching his nuts. In a much more high-pitched version of Janito's voice, he calls out to Borst.

"H-hey! T-that wasn't funny either! OW!"

Mike Bear Vs Hans Krueger

As he entered, Bear jumped over the guard rail, and raced into the Asylum. The door shut, and as Hans turned around, he was met with a European Uppercut by Mike Bear. Following that, Bear grabbed Hans’ head, and executed…

The Whiplash

Hans lied on the ground, prone and after eight seconds, Bear locked on UnBearable…

Hans gritted his teeth…

Hans extended his hand…

And tapped.

It took nearly two minutes in all, but Bear had defeated Hans surprisingly quickly.

“Testify” hit as Bear executed after kicking Hans in the head, who was breathing deeply and hard as the fans cheered Bear on…

A.D. and Borst exchange blows as they brawl around the bar, with the people in the bar cheering and shouting as they go at it! A.D. grabs a small glass from a table that looks as if it contains some vodka, and throws it in Borst's face! Borst screams as the alcohol hits the cuts on his face, and A.D. takes advantage, spearing Borst onto the bar.

Borst manages to push A.D. off and throws A.D. into the ladies bathroom! As you'd expect, there are a few screams from women in the bathroom, but that doesn't put the cameraman and ref off following them in.

Borst is shown standing in the bathroom, with A.D. no-where to be seen. Three of the four cubical doors are shut, so Borst takes a second to pick one to kick open.

First one, kick. Scream. There's someone in it. She absolutely shit herself - the door being kicked in by a blood soaked man. Borst takes a few moments to look at the young lady with her pants around her ankles, sitting on the throne, before choosing another cubical door to kick.

He kicks the other two open to find another two women in them. Borst looks confused, wondering where A.D. has gone. Suddenly, Borst spies an open window, and scrambles through the small gap. The cameraman attempts to get through, but can't with the camera on his shoulder.

We go back to the arena as the cameraman runs out of the bathroom to go and find Borst and A.D.

Talking about Campbell’s goons, Carnage watched as Krueger walked backstage through the entranceway, and was now seemingly in his own world oblivious to Carnage stalking behind him. Carnage could smell him, but that wasn’t what was registering in his mind, he was thinking about revenge for being assaulted the week before. Krueger didn’t have the biggest part or most important part, but Carnage thought he could take it from what he thought was the weakest link, and bring it up the food chain until he could slit the throat of Joe Campbell.

Finally Krueger stopped his footsteps, and then he heard two more solid steps from a pair of boots behind him. Krueger flashed a grin, he knew what was going on, he wasn’t ignorant to stalking others and beating the hell out of them, he had his fair share, but he decided to humor whomever was after him.

Then he started walking, and stopped yet again it took two steps for Carnage to halt again. Then Krueger heard a voice from behind. “When you want to get at a big shot, you start at the bottom.. Kill little Johnny.. Then move up to the others, then finally you kill the oldest, then right there in your lap is the head of the operation. That’s the way to destroy any operation..”

Hans began to laugh, he recognized the voice, he knew Carnage wanted to attack him for last week, and slowly he turned around, he heard a spray and suddenly his eyes were burning.. The bastard used pepper spray on him. It wouldn’t stop hurting, and Hans tried to get it out of his eyes by rubbing it, but Carnage charged forward and tackled him into the wall, he was going crazy, slamming Hans hard into the wall, he then grabbed onto him and threw him head first in the other wall, his maniacal laugh rang through the halls..

He then reached in his pocket for the knife.. But it wasn’t there, his dad still had it. “Fuck,” the word was spat out of Carnage’s mouth as he lowered down to the body of Hans, “You’re lucky now Hansel, I won’t throw you in the oven and eat you.. Yet. But tell Joe, I’m coming.”

But while he was talking he managed to miss out on a house full of footsteps, and he looked up and he saw where the voice was coming from. “You’ll be coming for what exactly?” And there he saw Joe standing with Adam Nowell. “Fucking wrestlers, always full of the same twat faced threats, and they never leave, because they’re on the end of their rope, being banished from her would make you just another fuckhead in the crowd, an ungrateful fuckhead.”

Joe paused looked back at Nowell and then back towards Carnage, “How bout we go for a little replay of last week’s action?” In that moment Carnage cringed and he suddenly felt the pain of Almighty slamming into his ribs, as much revenge he wanted, he didn’t want to see that sledgehammer for the rest of his life. But then a voice came from somewhere else catching Joe’s attention.

“If you want rid of him so bad that means you fear something about him, isn’t that right Mr. Campbell? Let the truth meet the air, if you could run a league with a bunch of guys you can push it around, you would do it, and you know it.”
“And who the hell are you?”

“Oh we haven’t met have we?” A smile crossed his face, “I’m Marcus Taylor, and that guy you’re trying to kick out is my son. I know you aren’t impressed, but if you want Cornelius out of here, give him a chance to fight for it, against anyone of your henchmen.”

Joe pondered it, looking down at Hans, and then back at Nowell, he smiled. He didn’t like agreements, there always lingered the way to be on the downtrodden side of things, but right here he knew he couldn’t lose, he wouldn’t lose.

And he agreed.

She jumped around, gasping as she got into a defensive stance as she saw The Movement, Nerva and Jessica Jenkins, Nerva grinning widely as Jessica looked angry.

"Relax, relax, we're just here to welcome you" repeated Nerva as she put her hands up to calm down Lotus. Lin clenched her fist tighter, then relaxed as she stood up normal again.

"Um-hello," said Lotus as she stepped back and waved.

"Where's my belt?" Jessica said bitterly as she looked at Lotus standing there with nothing but her clothes on. Nerva turned around and put her finger to her lips telling her to shush and calm down.

She stepped up closer, looking innocently into her eyes. "Listen, maybe we just got off on the wrong foot here," Nerva said as she put her hand on Lotus' shoulder. Lin didn't move, she only started to breath harder as Nerva stepped even closer. "I mean, why can't we just be friends right?"

Lin nodded as Jessica slowly started to smile. She stepped up closer as well, like a second line of defense if Lotus were to attempt to escape. Lin looked at her as Jessica whispered into her ear, "Join us Lotus. You can have such a promising future with us, better then what Nayomi or Steph could ever teach you. Nerva will teach you EVERYTHING she knows."

Nerva nodded once and touched the back of Lin's neck. The temperature started getting hotter as Nerva opened her lips, many staff workers weren't working now, they were just watching what seemed to be a start of a lesbien scene.

"Join us. Join The Movement," Nerva repeated again and she kissed Lin, Nerva's hands fondling Lin's breast while Jessica kissed on her neck and stroked her thighs. Lotus' eyes opened wide as she tried to shrug them off, but they kept going.

Lin pushed off with all her might and both woman stumbled back, Nerva's expression quickly went grim as she punched Lin in her stomach having her jolt forward in pain. She pulled Lotus' hair back and kneed her in the stomach before whispering in her ears, "I'm going to break your mentor's back today, just like your best friend."

Jessica looked around and snarled at all the men staring, "What are you looking at? You dirty minded fucks!"

Nerva pulled Lin's hair tighter, making it feel as if it was gonna fall off. "If your not one of us. You're one of them," she said as she threw Lotus backwards against the concrete wall. Lin's head bounced off violently as she almost blacked out, she looked up watching Nerva wrapped her arms around Jessica as they walked off down the hallway.

"Remember Jess. Even whores like Lotus," Nerva said. "Nolite te bastardes carborundorum."

Adam Nowell Vs Carnage

With an primal yell, Carnage charges forward, but he’s instantly leveled by a spinning wheel kick from Nowell. Carnage’s entire body rocks back as his hands are up in the air and he falls back on the mat. Nowell looks down at Carnage, and wipes his face it didn’t take long for the official to get the hint and start the knock out count..

One..

Nowell slowly circles the ring looking down at his victim, who seems to be really out of it.

Two…

Slight movement in the arms of Carnage as he pushes himself up.

Three….

Nowell still watches Carnage struggle to get to an even base.

Four…..

His legs shaking as he’s up half way, Nowell backs up slightly measuring Carnage up.

Five……

Finally he charges forward with a dropkick but he misses as Carnage drops back down to the mat. The official stands confused on whether he should continue to count, or count the knock out count as over, but by the time he decided to continue it was already to late, Carnage has pushed himself back up to his feet as he grabbed onto the Asylum rim, Nowell awaiting him. Both men lunge forward locking in an arm and collar tie up, both men struggle for dominance as Nowell takes the.. Make that Carnage takes advantage after he applies a thick boot to the Nowells. Carnage now with the obvious advantage grabs onto Adam Nowell and throws him hard face first into the mesh, from behind he’s rampantly rubbing his face back and forth against the grain busting the kick boxer wide open.

Carnage charges in and pulls him away from the cage, and Carnage flips him over while, he goes all Mike Tyson on him, biting Nowell’s forehead opening the wound either, fighting as hard as he can Adam finally cocks his fist back and nails a stern shot to the chest of Carnage knocking him back. He regains control and charges back but this time he’s smacked in the chin with a kick from Nowell, Carnage stumbles back again, and Nowell now on his feet charges forward and levels Carnage with a clothesline.

Slowly walking over he goes to lift Carnage up but the Crazy Corteia has a kick of his own, and hits it’s target doubling Nowell over. Carnage back up and flies in with an arsenal of punches, where only 55% were connecting. Finally Nowell ducks one and goes in for the suplex, but Carnage locks a headlock on him, attempting to squeeze the brains out of Nowell’s head. Boos were heard from the crowd and it wasn’t known if whether it was for Carnage’s tactic, or who was coming to the ring…

Hans Krueger came down to the ring, steel chair in hand, even despite his wounds from earlier in the night he mounts the cage rim with ease, saying something he manages to get the attention of Carnage. Carnage slowly turns around and the moment he does…

CRACK!

The headshot had him rocking back right into the arms Nowell who landed a devastating German suplex. Krueger wasn’t done as he still held the chair in both hands walking closer, finally pointing down at Carnage he tells Nowell to bring him to his feet. Holding both arms of Carnage behind his back, Nowell had him propped on his knees ready for anything he would get.

CRACK!

The second blow sent his head swinging back, but Carnage still had control, “HaHAhaAHaha!” his laugh continued as he brought his eyes up towards Krueger…

BANG!

But the laughter wouldn’t stop, Carnage brought his head up yet again laughing at Krueger’s attempts at putting him out of his misery. Krueger’s face grew an intense cherry red, as he looks down at Carnage still laughing, the bastard was going to feel pain…

SMASH!!

This time there was no laughter, he couldn’t even see Carnage’s full face as the blow sent the seat of the chair unfolding. And there rested Carnage’s head, Krueger lifted the chair off and at that very same time Nowell released his hold on Carnage allowing him to drop down to the mat. As the chair was gone, the flow of fresh crimson was now visible rolling down Carnage’s forehead. But Hans wasn’t done as he came in and started sending stiff kicks to Carnage’s ribs, with each kick an apparent whimper escapes the mouth of the victim. Krueger goes to lift Carnage to his feet, but Nowell tells his partner that he can handle it from here on in. Reluctantly Krueger leaves the chair, and the asylum. And right then the knock out count ensued..

One…

Two…

Three…

Four…

Five…

Nowell stood against the cage watching Carnage not showing any signs of moving..

Six…

The official continues to count, as he looks down at the heap of humanity that is Carnage. He was wasting his breath they should just award the match to…

Seven…

Nowell. Outside Marcus Taylor holds his head in his heads shaking in disbelief. It was over, the Asylum was no longer the home…

Eight…

Of his son.. Somewhere Joe Campbell was smiling, he knew that the Asylum was a game of Survival, and Carnage wasn’t fit. Somehow some way Joe Campbell and crew always found a way to…

Nine…

Lose. Carnage finally moving, and now it was quickly as he shoved himself up to his feet breaking the count, he was barely on his feet eyes rolling, leaning against the Asylum. Finally Nowell saw him and charged forward at him, Carnage lowered his head and back body drop…

And Nowell was out of the ring. The crowd was unsure what to do, but an unsure cheer broke out, as Carnage beat Nowell. Carnage himself slumped down to the mat, Marcus Taylor rejoiced as he entered the ring as “Adrenaline Rush” played in the background.

The Asylum worker couldn't believe that this was happening to him. Here he was, seated in a corner at one end of a hall, listening to Beef the Slightly Annoyed repeat the same offending word over and over again. He had to have lost count by now.

"...fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..."

On top of that, that midget fellow that was with the guy saying the magic word was acting... well, as weird as a Chinese midget can act. He stood on one of the massive trunks that carried the equipment into the arena, and watched the man make a mark for every time Beef said it.

"...fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..."

It was as if the midget was planning beat the crap out of him if he missed even a single "fuck". The poor worker knew what Steve was capable of, and he also knew that his wife *really* wants a girl. Why did Campbell even *need* someone to take down a "fuck count", anyway? It didn't make sense to him.

"...fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..."

'Please, please, please, stop saying it...' the worker thought, continuing to make his marks, even if the entire page he was writing on was becoming a cornucopia of blank ink at this point.

Getting kicked in the nuts will do that to you.

He stumbled around, holding his crotch, trying to find a place to go to next. He was still dressed in the "G.O.A.T." shirt and this probably wasn't a good sign for things to come. He stumbled into a locker room and came face-to-face with Adam Nowell of Syndication. He took a step back before he uttered a few words that he would later regret.

"Dude, what's with your eyebrow? It's all funky and stuff. I mean, if I were me, and I am most definitely me, I wouldn't have let you have that eyebrow. I mean, it's all ugly and stuff, and that's so definitely not cool." Janito said.
"...What?" was all Nowell could say, awe-struck at the blatant stupidity of Janito.

"And why do you have that Beef guy's haircut? That's not cool. It's the very not coolness of not cool, you know." Janito said. "I mean, who did your Poo-sur, anyway? Martha Stewart? My god!"

Nowell turned back into the locker room and shrugged at Hans Krueger, before he turned back to Janito, an evil look in his eye. Janito stopped before he said another word and noticed the look.

"...You're going to hurt me, aren't you?"

Nowell nodded.

"Oh, crap." Janito said, before a mean right hook sent Janito into the wall, holding his jaw. Nowell grabbed a hold of the rebounding Janito's shoulder and punched him twice in the stomach, then he caught Janito with a stiff kick to the right cheekbone, which put Janito in a fetal position, clutching his face. Nowell spat upon Janito's fallen body and went back into his locker room as if nothing happened. Janito coughed and sputtered and got up on his knees before calling out to Nowell.

"...Your eyebrow still looks funny!"

WHAM!

Nowell nailed Janito with another kick, this time a running shin kick to the face that knocked Janito right back down. Satisfied at what he had done, Nowell turned back into the locker room and slammed the door.

This night was not going well for Janito.

It couldn't get any worse...

...could it?

"Zoom that in here," she said, pointing at the kiss located on her left breast. The camera zoomed in to get a shot of her lace-cup covered breast. "Now zoom the fuck out."

It zoomed out to see Nerva entering the cage. Jessica entered the cage next, looking sour and hateful. Both her and Nerva wore dark eye shadow and mascara, making it look like they hadn't slept in days. In some respects, they hadn't. Their mission was a 24/7 job, no breaks whatsoever.

Akha wore dark sunglasses, covering any signs of emotion her eyes might give. She entered the cage and crossed her arms over her chest. She looked over Nerva's and Jessica's head to make sure the fans were starting to shut up. Being 6'6, she could make them shut up if they didn't.

Nerva grabbed a microphone from ringside. "You know, Lotus, you did something really, really stupid. It might sound like a cliché around here - hell, we've got a roster full of men who do stupid things - but Lotus, I'm being very serious with you. When you were offered a chance to join the most powerful group ever assembled - not only in female history, but also in WORLD history - you turned it down. We offered our heart to you. And you turned us down.
"Me, Akha, and Jessica all operate under the same heart. When it beats, we all feel it. When it stops, we all die."
The fans cheered the last statement.

"Yeah, you're all wise-asses. As I was saying, that one heart represents The Movement. And when you try to break that heart, you try to break all of our hearts. All three of us hate your guts now, Lotus. You've become one of the bastards that we won't let grind us down!

"And now I see that you've got a little something going right now - the pretty Women's Title in your possession. Let me ask you a little something, Lotus: do you know who the hell you are to wear that title around your waist? Did you do your research, Lotus? Or did you just forget who I am? What I did? What I gave?

"I gave my body, my spirit, and my soul to the Asylum in hopes that women could one day work hard to achieve greatness in the fighting biz. Is it that easy to forget the night I won the U.K. Title? Oh, maybe it is when the Asylum didn't want to air on live TV. Is it that easy to forget what our ancestors went through to give us women the rights we have today? All of you women booing me on this night are treating your rights like mud; you're rolling around in it like pigs!

"Then you've got the bigger and uglier pigs who call themselves men. Now, I'd fuck a pretty little pink pig to teach her a lesson, but I'd never go near those hairy-assed, slop-eating, shit-dropping-wherever-they-please fuckheads! You see, pigs, I feel exactly how those women's rights crusaders would feel if they were alive today. I feel like I'm dead, looking down at women in the Asylum who are taking what I created for granted. Just remember, I can give and I can take.

"The Movement can give, and The Movement can take. Lotus, I am taking the Women's Title for The Movement. Does Saturday at the Pay-Per-View sound good to you? Oh wait; you don't have a choice. No single woman in the Asylum deserves that title any more than me. The Movement deserves it."

Nerva looked around the arena, stopping her eyes at Mike Malone, who was laughing at a joke JPP cracked. "You!" she said out loud, stabbing a finger towards Malone. "What are you laughing at? What's so funny? Huh? Akha, get him in here."

Akha made no hesitations when she stepped out of the cage and down towards the announcer's table. She slapped her large hand on Malone's chest and pulled him by the polo shirt to the steps and threw him into the cage. He stood in the middle of the ring, surrounded by women who were stronger, younger, and fiercer than him. More importantly - they were all bloodthirsty vigilantes.

"First of all," said Nerva, and then slapped him in the face. "Keep your mouth shut if you don't want another one. I see you sitting back there every week and laughing at me. You laugh at my cause. You laugh at The Movement's cause. Newsflash - this isn't funny, this is actually pretty serious. I bleed for cash, Mikey. Do you bleed? No, Mike. You talk and make year-old jokes for cash. Motherfucker, you make me sick. How can you justify the dollars in your bank account when you don't bleed a drop of blood for them?

"On second hand, you don't deserve to bleed. You deserve something other than blood running down your face." Nerva breathed in and then spat in Malone's face. He reached for his handkerchief, but Nerva stopped him. "You'd do best NOT wiping that off your face, because if you do, I'll have Akha kick you in the neck. And if you wipe it off while you're calling matches later tonight, I'll have Akha come down and kick you in the neck. Now, ask me some questions. Be a good interviewer. Be a good boy bitch."

She handed him the microphone. "Uh, Nerva," said Malone, "right, ah, Nerva, how do you feel about your match tonight with-"

"Stephanie Connor. Right. That stupid hack that dyes her hair blue to hide the grayness. The porn star who fucked her boyfriend on video to show the world she's a slut and doesn't give a shit about her feminine dignity. I hate her and I'm going to destroy her tonight. Then again, I hate you too, Mike. What's stopping me from destroying you right now?"

Malone stood nervously, his hand shaking with the microphone. "Uh, uh… I don't know."

All three women closed in on him. Nerva smiled at him and then stepped aside. "I'll tell you what's stopping me - you running like a good bitch boy to your announcer's seat and putting me and The Movement over. Got it? Good."

He dropped the mic and dashed out of the cage, the spit still on his face, and found his seat.

Nerva pointed around the crowd. "This is an example of how weak you all are compared to me. Compared to The Movement. Nolite te bastardes carborundorum."

Getting your nuts kicked in by Borst, as well as getting your face knocked in by Adam Nowell could probably have something to do with it.

But hey, he was up and moving around, that should definitely call for some bonus points in Janito's Happy Latino World. He had somehow managed to find his red cape and put it around his neck, so now he looked like a superhero with a "G.O.A.T." shirt on.

He limped onward, into the next locker room.

It must be Impetigo's locker room, considering the fact that Wonder Hanna was there.

"Wow! Holy tamale!" Janito exclaimed, in his squeaky, high-pitched voice. It definitely got Hanna's attention, as she turned sharply toward Janito.

"Huh?" was her response.

"Hey hey hey! Ever thought of being a porn star?" Janito said, excitedly, almost jumping up and down as he said it. "I mean, I happen to have a fine collection of porn, in my own right!"

Janito stood all high and mighty before he continued. "I could probably find a worthy porn star for you to make whoopie to! Like, uh... uhm... er, well, I don't really *know* any porn stars, per se, but you should know some, right?"
Hanna stood up.

Janito recognized the look in her eyes and he stopped standing all high and mighty.

"Er... you're going to hurt me, aren't you?"

Hanna stalked over towards the coward, as he slowly backed against a wall, eventually curling up on the floor in a fetal position. Janito pleaded again, "Please... don't..." hiding his face in fear.

Hanna just smiled at the fool. 'What a moron' she thought to herself. At that moment Impetigo came up behind her, seeing what she was doing. "Who the fuck is this?" he questioned.

Seeing the red cape, Impetigo acted on instinct and pulled the man to his feet. 'It was Super Hero.' he thought to himself, as he drew back his hand ready to strike.

WHACK!

He followed through. Oops. "Thought you were someone else. Sorry... or something." Impetigo said smiling as he took Hanna by the hand as the two walked elsewhere. Maybe it was time for Impetigo to stop acting on instinct, and think. Oh well, not much harm done this time. It was only Janito, nobody cared about him.

'Jesus, what would happen if that really was Super Hero? And where the hell was Khmer?' Impetigo thought to himself as he walked away down the hall.

Token Weed(c) Vs Villam Ender
(U.K. Title)

System of a down's song played over the PA and Token Weed weed came out to some cheering from the Asylum crowd. Tonight, Token would defeat Villam and take his "Hammer of Power". Or so he hoped. If not He would find himself without a U.K title and more than likely the victim of another sledgehammer beating.

Of course in tow, "Arcarnsenal" by At the Drive In began to play and Villam strolled down the ramp with a microphone in his hand...a deadpan expression given in exchange for sonically death filled booing. Villam entered the Asylum and raised his hand to speak as he placed Almighty against the side of the wire hammer mesh.

"Wait, wait, wait...slow down Turbo. Now, of course we are gonna have our little match. But, you know what? Last night while I was fucking an ACTUAL WOMAN. I had myself a thought. 'Uh-oh' is what you probably are all thinking. And 'Uh-fucking-oh' is right.

I just realized...that you...Sean...are a wrestler. And frankly....I don't trust you."

This just got a "so the fuck what?" reaction from Token Weed and Villam continued.

"Wrestling is known world wide for its sneaky, dirty, bitch made, fuckheaded, under handed tactics. I believe those fucking marks call them "screwjobs". WELL, you know what, Sean? I refuse to get screwed. I am a man of honor. The Asylum is a fighting organization of honor and I refuse to play your little games, you fucking queer.

So...

What *I* decided to do was...bring someone else out here to ref. Someone who would be impartial. Who would be fair. Who would see it straight down the middle and make a good call and the right choice. I call this man friend. You can call him 'boss'....give it up for everyone's favorite Sport Entertainment mogul....JOE!!!"

No music need to be played because you would not have been able to hear it over the booing. Joe walked out in a black and white reffing shirt and waves to the booing fans. Joe hopped up into the cage and winked over at Token who was fuming. Villam put the microphone to mouth and smiled at Joe...

"Ha! Now, how do you like them apples? WHAT? You didn't understand me? I'm speaking in Wrestler-ese you should understand everything I'm saying. WHAT? I said...how do you like them apples? WHAT? I said Ender 3:16 says: You're fucked, Mr. Penis Wrinkle."

The crowd Jeered Villam and Joe...Villam smiled wide and whispered. "You're fucked" again....and with that Token went tearing into Villam with lefts and rights!! The momentum of each blow sent Villam reeling into the mesh of the Asylum at which point Villam was nearly forced out of the ring. Joe came from behind grabbing Token on his shoulder and "Warning" him for god knows whatever reason. Token's attention being diverted for that split second was all that Villam needed as he connected with an elbow strike to the jaw and a blatant rake of eyes. Villam followed that up with a hard knee into the mid section and a huge number of sloppily landing fists on Token's back!

With that Joe joined in for some "jolly-good" stomps into Token already swollen upper back. They're called "jolly-good" because good old Joe just looks so happy when he does it. Joe stopped stomping as Villam went to pick up Token. But as he did Token jabbed a thumb into Villam's eye! "Aw, fuck" he yelled out as Token gorged another thumb into Villam's other eye! Joe came up from behind...WHAM! Token nailed him with an elbow without even looking!

This time Joe would be no distraction as Token turned back around and nailed Villam with a hard right cross! Villam stumbled back and Token knocked him down to the mat with a short arm clothesline. Token pulled Villam to his feet and gave him a good old fashioned club to the back of the neck and followed that up with a bulldog burying Villam's face into the mat! The crowd was cheering loudly at the prospect of Villam losing...and Token was taking it in using every trick in the book to get at Villam. Using every hold to his advantage. He locked in an Reverse Armbar and twisted hard. Before Villam could get a chance to reverse...Token locked him in a standard armbar and again....twisted....and AGAIN before Villam could reverse...he turned him over on his stomach and locked him a crippler crossface!!

Villam eyes strained trying to blank out the pain and he looked ready to tap out...

That is.

.

.

.

.

.

Until, WHAM! Chair shot from ref Joe! The crowd threw litter into the ring as they knew that Token Weed was mere moments from getting fucked over. Joe lets the chair shot ring on top of Token's Head again with a loud Clang! This gave Villam just enough time to recover and lock Token in a Crossface of own. "You want to wrestle!? I got your fucking WRESTLING!" Villam was pissed and he refuse to be outclass by a stinking wrestler.

As Villam held Token in the Crossface Joe stomped away at Token's ribs. Villam released the hold and pulled Token up to his feet by the neck and just pressed hard into his Adam’s apple blatantly choking the life out of him with the look of eternal rage in his eyes. The sounds of hate surrounded Villam as Token slowly has the blood squeezed out of his neck and was forced to the ground. Joe stared at Villam with a bit of fear in his eyes at yet ANOTHER death in the Asylum and walked up to Villam placing a hand on his shoulder. Villam quickly calmed himself and stood up...

But the MOMENT Villam let go Token grabbed onto *his* neck choking the life out of him. With all of his power Token Weed stood up and with his hand still wrapped around Villam neck he forced him over to the edge of the Asylum! Within the cheers were a loud warning that Token heeded as Joe tried to advance on Token but only receive Weed's trademark Outside Crescent Kick!. Token released Villam for the time being and decided to put Joe out of the game...

...permanently.

Joe using the wire mesh for a crutch got to his feet wiping blood from his mouth...but as he turned around...He only caught Token Weed's "Jumping Pump Kick!". which sent Joe flying out of the Asylum! Joe hit the flooring with a thud! Token laughed and the crowd laughed and EVERYONE was having a good laugh at Joe's expense.

That is....everyone except Villam...who quietly snuck up behind Token and snapped in a Half Nelson Sleeper hold that he calls: "Beautiful Dreamer". Token tried his damnedest to get out of it but Villam quickly dragged Weed to the center of the ring and squeezed him with all of his might. Token tried to fight it...fight the darkness that was slowly falling over him. Fight the blanket of sleephood that was slowly covering him up and soon enough..
....the Sandman took Token.

Joe had gotten back into the ring at this time and declared a KO! Villam spit into the mat and then into the crowd before grabbing the UK title and exiting the cage a champion..

.....with a little bit (ALOT!!) of help from Joe.

Oh, but it's the instrumental version.

Not that it ever mattered.

El Janito, who was still dressed in the "G.O.A.T." shirt and black pants over his body suit and cape, painfully strutted down to ringside, the earlier victim of a kick in the balls by Borst, an ass-kicking by Adam Nowell, and an even more severe ass-kicking from Impetigo and Wonder Hanna. It seemed as if everyone has had it in for him tonight.

The safest place for him, he thought, was in this cage.

Janito jumped into the cage, and he asked for a microphone. A foolish cage-side attendant tossed him a microphone, and given what Janito's been doing lately, this wasn't going to be pretty.

"Hi!" Janito said, in his squeaky, high-pitched Hispanic voice.

"I thought I'd come by to express my displeasure at something that I've noticed in recent weeks." Janito said, smirking toward the big Asylum screen, the AsylumTron. A picture of the Asylum's white skull on a red background logo appeared. The crowd was, in a word, confused.

"You see, the Asylum logo... it's all WRONG!" Janito yelled, the microphone screeching as a result.

"You idiots have ONE MORE PIXEL OF RED ON THE LEFT than you do on the RIGHT! That's totally wrong, dammit! It must be EXACTLY CENTERED! EXACTLY! How could you be so... so WRONG? It's imperfect! It needs to be trashed! We can replace it with... THIS!" Janito yelled, pointing at the AsylumTron again. The same logo appeared, but instead of a white skull, it was a picture of Richard Simmons' face.

"See, Richard Simmons' face can fit the logo *exactly*, to where you have an equal amount of pixels on both sides.

It's the PERFECT logo for the Asylum!" Janito said.

The fans were not pleased.

They began pelting Janito with random foodstuffs, including a halfway filled paper cup filled with soda. This particular attack actually knocked down Janito, and the crowd laughed at him.

Janito got to his feet, and he seemed so insulted by the crowd that he started to leave.

"I MUST'VE READ A THOUSAND FACES!!!"

At this point do the rest of the lyrics need to play? You know who it is. Start booing. "Arcarnsenal" by At the Drive In bursts over the PA yet again. And out comes Villam Ender, newly won U.K title wrapped around the handle of Almighty. Villam's deadpan expression could only mean a world of shit for little Janito. Villam entered the cage and ignored Janito as he raised his Sledgehammer to the chorus. The chorus which went "Beware! Beware!" could barely be heard over the booing and the cries of "Asshole! Asshole!". Villam was promptly handed a microphone.

"Excuse me, but did you just insult the top class craftsmanship that goes into the Asylum? From the biggest things like our incredible shows that sell out worldwide...to the smallest things like our artistically perfect logos?"
Janito started to open his mouth...

"Shh." Villam sounded putting his finger to his lips. "Don't answer." The crowd did not quite know what to make of this...on the one hand Villam was the son of Satan himself. On the other...Onsl-Janito was just plain annoying. I'mean who gives a flying dragon fuck about LOGOS? I'mean logos? Yeah, Janito was fucking dead. Double dead.

"You know..." Villam started as he slowly began to circle Janito. "If it's one thing, I hate. It's a fucking baby. A baby who opens his sperm filled mouth in between cocksuckings just to give people an opinion that no body asked for. Tell me something Onsl...I'mean. Janito. Did *I* ask you what you thought of the Asylum logo?"

Janito went to answer, but got backhanded by Villam like a whore who wouldn't pony up Gold Tony's money.

"Shut up, bitch. Just shut the fuck up. I don't want to fucking hear it. I just can't bear it anymore. Something has to be done. An example has to be made out of you. So without milkin' it....

Permission to punch you in your face, kidney's and liver with more force than when a guy first beats off: GRANTED"
And with that Villam dropped Almighty and laid into Janito face, kidney's and liver with more force than guy's first jerk. And Villam didn't stop laying into him until he was well bloody and swollen. Villam quickly followed the fist beating with some stomps into the spine. Villam whistles for a Steelchair which is thrown in quicker than usual. Rabid like an animal Villam waits for Janito to get to his feet.....

Janito turns around...

Chair is thrown...

Janito catches chair...

Villam swing Almighty into the chair creating a crater in said Steelchair...

Janito has his ass handed to him.

That was Ender's Game. Thank you for playing. You win...a big shiny bag of nothing. Villam is still pretty much booed as he gathers his things and leaves the cage. But, something stops him...and he jumps back into the cage! Villam puts the microphone to his lips and beginning speaking again...

"You know what? No. I'm not done. What you came out here and did was bad. REAL bad. Yes, you've been a bad boy. A bad, rude little fucktard. And there's only ONE THING that corrects the behavior of bad AND rude little pussy farting fuckhead's like yourself. Yes, you've bad boy...and you're getting a spanking."

Villam whistles for yet another chair and it is promptly thrown to him. Janito tries desperately to escape...but Villam isn't having it as he pulls him up by his britches and sends him head first into the wire meshing. After a few crackings over the head with the chair he drops it and lifts Janito over his head and drops him stomach first into the rim of the Asylum. The crowd roars in awkward approval!? Cheering? For Villam?

Aw, fuck it. They'll boo him later.

Villam laughs as he pulls down Janito's pants exposing his pimpled rear end to national television! The crowds cheers Villam on as raises the stealchair to the sky, with a gleam in his eye. And he let's it down with a fearsome smack! The area fills with the sound of steel hitting bare arse!! The crowd can not stop laughing as Villam tears into Janito.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! (Um, Villam?) SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! (Villam? Hello?)SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! (Fuck, that's quite enough...COME ON!) SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

...okay listen. This pretty much goes on for another fifteen minutes which was edited out of the Sunday Show. We'll bring you up to the last 2 minutes...

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

The crowd was silent as what was a spanking...turned into what will be thousand's of dollars in ass repairs. No one deserves the "I got spanked with a steelchair" talk with a doctor. No one. Villam used the steelchair to lift poor ass hurt Janito over the edge with the of the Asylum. Villam took in the cheering that turned into booing. He took a deep satisfying breath as he picked up Almighty and his freshly won UK title and exited the cage. Villam enjoyed that…a bit too much?

Nerva Vs Stephanie Connor

There was a sudden switch in reaction as "Try Again" by Aaliyah replaced Nerva's music. Nerva shot her head towards the entrance to see "Ice Cold" Stephanie Connor pushing past the curtains, heading towards the cage for her return match. Nerva stood with her hands on her hips as Stephanie walked up the steps. The history between the two was short - they'd been caught on camera in the shower together and tag teamed for a night. Now that small allegiance was history.

Stephanie stepped into the cage, and as the bell rang, she immediately took Nerva down by a leg. She dropped an elbow, but Nerva moved away in time and started stomping away relentlessly. Steph rolled to the side of the cage and pulled herself up. Nerva saw the opening and delivered two round kicks, one to each of Stephanie's kidneys. Stephanie turned around and backhanded Nerva in the face and then gave her a right hook to the left side of her ribs. Nerva curled from the shot and took a kick to the back of the knee. She fired back with a back fist that connected with Stephanie's jaw.

The shot sent Stephanie a few feet back. Nerva kept her eyes on Stephanie's, and faked three times with her lead leg. Steph flinched from the first two, but stayed in place on the third. Nerva turned around with a spin kick, and Stephanie was quick to duck it. She failed to realize Nerva's quickness, however, and felt a hard round kick straight to the jaw. Nerva quickly leapt onto the cage rim and kicked right off with a tornado kick that smacked Stephanie in the back of the head. She went down.

Nerva kicked her in the ribs while she was down. "You made the wrong choice coming back here. Because I'm fucking up anybody who gets in The Movement's way."

Stephanie got to one knee and absorbed all of the kicks and punches from Nerva. She swung a wild haymaker, but Nerva ducked under it and locked her into the half-nelson choke-out. Nerva swung her around wildly in the chokehold, hoping to wear her down. Steph dropped to a knee again. Nerva wrapped one leg around her, but couldn't get the other one around her in a full body scissors, since Stephanie powered herself back up to a vertical base. She was breathing through allowances of her esophagus.

She struggled, but soon found the simplest solution - she backed Nerva into the cage wall. Once. Twice. Three times. Four. Nerva released the chokehold, and Stephanie turned around to punch her repetitively in the gut. She then grabbed Nerva by the hair and slammed her head into the cage rim. Nerva held her head and staggered to the center of the circle, afraid of losing via ring out. Stephanie followed her and grounded her with a bulldog, and then locked her into a crossface submission hold. Nerva elbowed and rolled her way out of the move before Stephanie got the chance to really crank up the pressure.

Nerva stumbled up to her feet and hit Stephanie in the face with a desperation jumping back kick. Stephanie shook it off and immediately shot for a single-leg takedown. Nerva pushed her body forward and trapped Stephanie into a front face-lock in her left arm. She delivered hard right fists to Stephanie's ribs, hearing a scream from Steph after each shot. Stephanie was growing helpless after each shot, taking more breath and more strength out of her. But with the fans clapping for her to recover, she yanked down Nerva's pants.

Her face red, Nerva immediately bent over to pull her pants up, but Stephanie clocked her with a right and sent her to the ground with her pants around her ankles. Stephanie stepped over Nerva's body and back flipped, driving her knees into Nerva's abdomen. Still, Nerva's pants were down. Stephanie picked her up and set her between her legs. She hit a piledriver, pulling on Nerva's thong for added impact. Stephanie stood over Nerva's body as the referee counted, but at five, she was surprised.

The Vaginal Claw.

Stephanie's eyes widened from Nerva's tight, vice-like grip. Nerva stood up, standing eye-to-eye with Stephanie while holding her womanhood. Stephanie countered by clapping her hands against Nerva's ears and kicking her in the gut. She set Nerva up for another piledriver, but Nerva back dropped her onto the ground. Nerva reached outside the cage and snapped up a steel chair. The fans responded with boos as Nerva hit the chair on the ground a few times in anticipation for Stephanie to get up.

She swung with the chair, but Stephanie ducked the shot and pulled the chair away. The fans ironically began to boo louder. Stephanie jabbed Nerva in the gut with the chair and held it high to bring over The Movement leader's head. But suddenly, a large, calloused hand grabbed her by the hair and yanked her back.

It was Akha, with Jessica Jenkins at her side smacking a bat into her hand. Nerva smiled at the sight of both of them. Akha pushed Stephanie against the cage and nailed her with a Thai round kick to the neck. It was a one-strike knockout kick, sending Stephanie down to her knees and to the floor. "We're not done yet," said Nerva. "Get her ass up." Akha grabbed Stephanie's half-conscious body in a double-handed choke and raised her as high as she could. Jessica crouched down into position. Nerva ran, jumped off Jessica's back and hit the Double Touch spin kicks on Stephanie.

Akha dropped Stephanie. She grabbed the bat from Jessica and rained down a hard shot. Lotus came rushing down to the cage, but Nerva grabbed the chair and whacked her in the head before she could come into the cage. Meanwhile, Jessica took the bat back from Akha and hit Stephanie in the back, causing her to scream out loud. She handed the bat to Nerva, who smiled and held it up high.

But Lotus was back up with a fire extinguisher. She sprayed the cage with a smoke of O2, and then quickly climbed in. She grabbed the bat from the ground and began cleared the cage of Akha and Jessica. Nerva was near the cage wall coughing and hacking and Lotus took advantage of it, sending Nerva over the wall with a huge flying sidekick. The smoke cleared, and Stephanie Connor was still in the cage, getting up from the vicious bat shots.

Outraged, Akha charged for the cage again, but Nerva held her back. "No, Akha. Not now. There will be a better time. Just wait."

The bell sounded as Lotus raised Stephanie Connor's hand in victory, with "Try Again" resurfacing over the speakers. Lotus leaned over the cage pointing towards Nerva and beckoning her into the ring. "Let's get it over with now, Nerva! Saturday is a few sun rises too many away. You want your title? Come and get it now!"

Nerva shook her head and pushed her Movement sisters to the back, disappearing behind the curtains.

“Oh! Villam! Hello! Can I help you with something…?” Villam was not in a good mood. Then again Villam is rarely in what one would call a “good mood”.

“Yeah, Joe…yeah….you can actually….” Villam pulled out a tape with 21W plastered on it. Joe raised a hand.

“Villam, if this is about Mr. Powell’s *special* love for little Swedish children and domesticated animals…I already know…”

They shared a laugh. But after the chuckling had died down…

“No, seriously Villam….what is it?”

“It’s Hypnosis….”

“AH.” Joe gritted his teeth. “I already know. I’ve…..ugh….I’ve just been too pissed to do something about it. I’ve got Borst and all this other crap I’ve got to be arsed with. I just can’t-” Villam stopped him.

“That’s just it, Joe. Lemme take care of it. He shouldn’t be holding that fucking TV title. Asylum’s titles aren’t for fuckhead’s who jerk us around.” Joe smiled in sly agreement. “Lemme challenge him for the title and fuck him up. Put him away. Permanently.”

Joe mockingly shook his head. “b-b-but Villam if you win…you might become a double champion….that’s against the rules……AHAHAHAHAHAHA…..fuck yes. Of course you can. Go kick the shit into him!!”

Villam smiled.

“Thanks Joe.”

Joe smiled.

“Ha. You’re welcome.”

As Villam walked out of the door he felt a weird feeling in his chest. Like he could see something that he never saw before.

Could that be Friendship?

Nah, fuck that Villam. Push it back down with all the other weak concepts and emotions.

‘Roger. Over and out’ He thought to himself.

“Yes, well. Here we are again, oh my how time flies when you’re crushing the dreams of others into dusty mounds of shit. Oh, yes…you people dream of a world where you can cheer your deceitful heroes and boo the trust worthy, truthful and hard working “Villains”. And with almighty I smash those dreams into stardust.

However, there is one man out there, with a shitty name, and a shitty “gimmick”, that thinks his dreams won’t get crushed. There’s a man out there that acts without thinking and doesn’t think with his brain. This man…or should I say…FAG, is exactly the type of fat, lazy fucker that I’m trying to keep out of the Asylum. He alone is the reason that wrestlers should not be allowed into the Asylum…and-”

And with that "Won't Lie Down" (Kombat Mix) by Face to Face started to pump out over the PA. Enter Hypnosis.
"… and what? We get to hear about some more shit like, “What pisses Villam off” or “How to be a player when you’ve got a small dick” Villam, why don’t you…” Villam put his hand up.

“You stop right there, infidel! You, you… fuckin’ Usurper. You know while I was backstage after I beat the shit into Onsl-…I mean Janito…”

“That supposed to impress somebody? You’re an arsewipe Villam. Like the rest of the world, I’m tired of hearing you come out here and bitch about everybody to everybody. Do I come out here and whine every time I bite my tongue, so I can bitch about how “Teeth piss Hypnosis off. It’s all about what pisses Hypnosis off.” Hypnosis finished as the crowd were now laughing at Villam, not the response he’d expected when he’d first came out.

“Hey! Shut the fuck up? Thanks! You Limey idiot-headed, cunt goblin!!” Villam yelled back “Where was I? Oh yeah…I realized that it isn’t about “Wrestlers” and “Fighters” anymore. Fuck, maybe it never was. It’s about who is loyal to this company and to this sport and who is a backstabbing opportunist motherfucker. It’s about who tries to derail this fighting mega force. It’s about whomever stands in our fucking way. Having realized this I can stand here today and proclaim that…

I am a Loyalist.

I am PROUD to be in the Asylum. I tell people that I fight in this cage with pride and a shark toothed smile on my face. I am PROUD to call a man like Joe my “boss”. I am PROUD to come out here and watch you fucking hicks get off on my antics. I am PROUD of this organization and it’s accomplishments. *I*

…am loyal.

And for this I get booed? For not biting the hand that feeds me? For supporting my home!? For being a fucking MAN and protecting my FAMILY? While you cheer this trendy piece of shit and his gay ass, fucky hOuSe music? Face to Face. Fucking gayer than the Pet Shop Boys. Do you listen to XTC too, asswipe?”

“XTC? What kind of wank do you listen to Villam?”

Villam ignored Hypnosis’ last comment and simply shakes his head in disgust….

“Mr. Hughes….

How could you? The Asylum fed you and supported you. And you decide to turn your back on it. On us. On ME. And join that shitty wrestling fed? Do you think you’ll still be allowed to compete so freely here Mr. Free-fucking-spirit? I don’t think so. I KNOW that you can‘t.

…and you won’t.

Because…

I won’t let you.

So, Mr. Chicken shit. I want your TV title at the PPV. Yeah, I know…I’m already holding a title.

Well, Hypnutsack…don’t blame me. Blame Joe. Or better yet…Blame God. And when you wake up in that white room and old nurses play with your nipples and make you drink from your own bedpan…don’t hate me. Hate your fucking weakness.

Because you could’ve had it all. You were on your way to become a superstar in the Asylum. And you fucking blew it. You Double blew it. Yeah, you fucked it up…and I’m gonna fuck YOU up!! Got that, shortstack? Well? WELL? Say something……”

“fuUK?”

“What?”

“fuUK?”

“What?”

“fuUK?”

“Ok, shut the fuck up! NOW!”

Then the worse thing that could’ve happened….did. The crowd…started saying “fuUK?” as well. It’s was hot pokers in Villam’s ears. Ugh. A fuckin’ catchphrase. Villam straightened his face to a deadpan expression and slammed Almighty into the railing with a loud CLANG that silenced the crowd.

“I’ve passed my judgment you plebeian fuckheads.”

Suddenly Hypnosis came charging into the Asylum and began exchanging punches with Villam. Villam being completely off guard went to throw a punch but got caught in Hypnosis’s Fireman carry…and everyone knew what was next…

KTFO.

Knocked the fuck out. Which he was…and with that “Won’t lie down” started to play over the speaker and Hypnosis made his exit. "Challenge accepted." he spat out as he went behind the curtains.

Both men begin to crawl towards some steps, nudging each other with weak blows as they crawl. Eventually, they get to their feet and both climb the stairs; the ref and cameraman following them up...

... and down.

Borst and A.D. grab each other half way up the stairs and both lose their balance. They fall down the stairs, taking the cameraman with them. The ref manages to avoid the fall, but yet again, the transmission cuts out.

Steve hadn't been paying attention, though. He had been paying attention to the lovely, yet malicious spanking that Villam Ender just delivered to El Janito. Steve would've loved to have gone out and saved poor Janito's now-red arse, but Steve, unlike the rest of Mega Job, was NOT stupid enough to go marching into a cage with a really pissed off Villam Ender.

"...fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..."

After all, not many people would think that a 3'9" midget with an affinity at attacking people in the nuts, such as Steve, could take on a crazed, Almighty-wielding psychopath. However, now was probably the time that Steve got Beef's attention.

"BEEF." Steve roared.

"...fuck, fuc- yeah, Steve?"

"OH, THANK GOD!!!" the Asylum worker who probably had carpal tunnel syndrome by now yelled. "How can ANYONE say `fuck' five THOUSAND times in two hours, anyway?!"

With that, the worker left to the confusion of Beef and Steve. Beef just shrugged and grabbed a nearby glass of water before downing it.

"ASS." Steve said, pointing at the TV, which was showing a replay of Steve getting the steel chair spanking.

Cue the spit-take.

"Dude! Gross! You just spit all over me!" a sickened voice, belonging to a woman, yells.

"Whoops. Sorry." Beef said, his voice sounding horace.

"INQUIRY?" Steve asked.

Beef just shrugged. "Ah, I thought the spit-take would've been an appropriate and humorous reaction to the situation."

"SERIOUS." Steve boomed.

"Hey, it's not my fault that I was preoccupied in saying "fuck" more times in two hours than Caprino could probably manage in a week." Beef said. He thought about his words very carefully before he decided to amend them.
"Okay, maybe it was."

This conversation would have continued to border on the stupid side, but the ear-piercing screaming of El Janito as he was being helped into the room filled their ears.

"AHHHH!!!!"

Beef turned to look at Janito, who was only standing up through the use of two ringside attendants who couldn't sit him down anywhere due to what happened. Beef saw that Janito was also bleeding in a very uncomfortable place to be bleeding from.

"Dude, you look like Pierre Delacroix on a bad day."

A.D. Vs Borst

Suddenly, there's a loud crash as Borst and A.D. come flying through the window of his office! Joe almost shits himself, jumping back from his desk.

Borst and A.D. are both lying in a heap on the floor of his office among broken glass, pieces of paper and bits of plaster from the wall that they both smacked into after they went through the window. A.D.'s leg has been trapped under a filing cabinet, but it doesn't seem to matter. Both men lay motionless on the floor.

The ref bursts through the door and begins the ten count.

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

As the ref hits 9, Borst's hand appears on the side of Joe's desk, as Borst pulls himself up before flopping over the desk.

10!

A.D. has come too now as well, but after the two hour brawl, he just can't manage to get the filing cabinet off of his leg. Borst glances at A.D. and then looks at Joe. "I've... been fight... fighting him for two hours... I beat... him... after... two..." Borst takes a deep breath and wipes the blood from his eyes. "Two hours. Campbell... give me a title rematch."

Joe looks at the carnage in his office and grins. "Borst... I'd say you've earned it."

Borst nods his head slowly and replies with a simple "Thank you." before helping the ref get the filing cabinet off of A.D.'s leg. Borst pats A.D.'s shoulder and nods at him. "Thank you too." he says, before collapsing in a heap on the floor.