Something, would be done.

“No?” said Joe. “You don’t think so? Do you realize how many fucking headaches I’ve had over the past week after what you pulled last Sunday? I had to cut my fucking phone lines off. You almost killed Angel Dalton, which would have completely RUINED the buyrate for Fight Hell! That all being said, I think I have the right to react accordingly and punish you by pressing charges and stripping you of the title. You can shake your fucking head all you want, but it won’t change the fact that you are NO LONGER the Asylum Champion!”

“Is that so, Mr. Campbell?”

It wasn’t Nerva speaking.

The fans went into an intense flurry of jeers as Judge Judy appeared on the AsylumTron. She was decked in her Judge’s robe and sat in her courtroom. “Do you truly believe that you, as the owner of the Asylum, have the right to strip the rightful champion of her title?”

Joe reached over the bar and pointed at the newly purchased AsylumTron, as last week’s was destroyed. “I can do whatever the fuck I want, Bitch Judy! I made the fucking rules to this place and that means I’ll strip a champion of her title if I deem it necessary! What you need to realize is—”

“Shut your mouth and don’t ever talk to me like that again,” said Judy. “This is a serious legal matter we’re dealing with and I won’t put up with any swearing. Do you understand, Mr. Campbell?”

“Don’t you fucking—”

“Ah! Ah! Ah! Shut up, Mr. Campbell! I’ve heard of this ‘eff-word count’ you have going on every week for your show, but that tally will be kept to a MINIMUM tonight. Now onto the legal matters,” she said, putting on her far-sighted glasses and reading some documents, “it’s evident that you are indeed the owner of the Asylum Championship and that you did indeed make the rules. However, the very rules you made seem to be conflicting with your current interests.

“It states in the rules of the Asylum that the title can only be vacated when the champion willingly forfeits the championship due to physical or mental inability to compete. Nerva has not yet lost the Asylum Championship in contest nor is she willing to give it up. This is a binding contract and I will see to it that Nerva will remain as Asylum Champion! Court dismissed!”

Judge Judy slammed her gavel down three times, and her image faded out from the AsylumTron. A smile crept over Nerva’s face as the fans were booing intensely.

“You know what that means, Joe?” she said. “I’m the Asylum Champion whether you like it or not. Go ahead and pull me out of the main event match at Fight Hell. What are you gonna be left with? A match between Dalton and Inmate… for what? Pride? You won’t have that killer buy rate for Fight Hell without me. You won’t have that boat you always wanted to buy. You won’t have a damn thing without me. Now, give me my belt.”

Joe’s face was shaking like a man high on caffeine. As he lifted the belt up, he stopped shaking and calmed down. “Okay, Nerva. It looks like you’ve backed me in a corner this time. There isn’t much I can do with the rules I made. Therefore, I’m dropping all charges against you.”

The fans booed.

“I don’t give a fuck what you fans want, because I know that I don’t want a fucking main event without a champion! But Nerva, rest assured that you won’t have a damn thing on me after Inmate wins the title from you. Now, take your fucking belt.”

He lunged forward and drove the plate of the belt into Nerva’s forehead. She was still handcuffed and couldn’t fight back as Joe stomped away at her until the police officers restrained him. As Joe continued to struggle in their grasp, Inmate snuck into the cage and slapped Nerva into a high-angle single-leg crab. Nerva screamed in pain. With her hands bound behind her, there wasn’t a thing she could to stop Inmate.

Joe got down on his stomach and looked Nerva in the eye with the microphone up to his mouth. “That hurtin, Nerva? There’s gonna be more where that came from. Tonight, in this very fucking cage, it’s gonna be myself, Syndication, and the man who’s making you his bitch right now, against you and your Movement bitches! We’re gonna eat you alive, you fucking dyke!”

Inmate dropped Nerva’s leg and picked up the Asylum Championship and then threw it down at her. Joe took a couple extra kicks at her and left the cage. The fans didn’t know what to make of this.

“Okay guy’s tonight’s gonna be fun that’s for sure. You two wait here, I’ll meet you guy’s out back in about ten minutes with the catch, you dig?”

Token Weed grinned and nodded clenching his fist in the process, and his eyes responded with a fiery glow. Angel Dalton hung in the background leaning against the wall, looking away from the gaze of Steve Douglas he nodded as well. Douglas left the two of them.

Token watched Douglas turn the corner before whipping back to face Angel, “What the fuck is up with you Dalton?”

A.D. immediately moved away from the wall and eyed Token cautiously, “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” Token continued, “You haven’t been down with what we’re all doing and I’m starting to question your credibility.”

Angel looked insulted, “My credibility? What are you fucking Oprah or something?”

Angel turned to walk away from Token but Token quickly whipped out his switchblade and moved in front of Angel, stopping him, “Oprah eh? Want some counseling Angel? Don’t you like what we’re doing? Don’t you like inflicted pain…hearing someone scream in horror…watching them whine and cry for their pitiful life.”

Angel didn’t answer instead he walked past Token and headed down the hallway, as he did he heard Token yell at him, “Don’t fuck this up Angel! Feel your true desire…feel it.”

Maribelle was practically pleading...Joe however wasn't having any of it....

"No, Bloody hell fucking no. I don't have time to write up contracts for this stupid tournament...or to figure out rules for it...or to hype it...or to advertise...fuck lady! This is going to take a lot of time to pull off properly. Plus, I think you're forgetting one thing! You have no idea if Nerva is even going to lose the title."

"Oh, Jesus Fucking Tap Dancing H. Christ...She'd going against Angel Dalton AND the Inmate. How can she NOT lose? You and I both know she's not coming out of Fight Hell with those titles...so just set it up...You know you want to."

*Sigh*

"Fine, " Joe said. "But...uh...you must seal the deal with a kiss, love."

Maribelle smiled and leaned over to kiss Joe.

"That's right...give daddy some sugar....."

No Dice.

With a swoosh of air the door busted open.

"What the flying mother of fuck is going on here?"

Contessa.

"Bella? What the fuck have I told you about sucking off the enemy? Get your ass over here." Maribelle wasted no time in obeying. Joe looked up into Contessa's face with a frown.

"What the hell do you want?" Joe said as he stood up.

Contessa reared her fist back...."Sit the fuck down."

Joe sat down.

"Now, what the fuck is going on here? I look at the Fight Hell card and I *still* don't see my man Christ going up against that jolly gigantic fat ass, Archangel. What gives you soccer watching piece of shit?"

This time Joe stood up. "Now you listen here! The World Cup is a time honored tradition across the world! Just because you Americans don't understand the finer points of the game doesn't mean-"

"Aw, shut up. It's a bunch of men in short-shorts playing footsie. Now, answer my DAMN QUESTION!"

"Gah~! You want to know why? Because Steve fucking sucks that's why. That wrestling piece of shit. Not only that...he hasn't beaten everyone that he's required to beat. So....yeah."

Contessa smiled. "Oh, yeah?"

Joe nodded. "Yeah"

Contessa looked at Maribelle. "Like who?"

...

Joe looked around.

'Fuck, like who? Who can I send up against Steve Christ tonight that is sure to get the Job done? AH!....but he's injured......hmmm...BAH!'

"VILLAM~!"

Maribelle jumped. "Oh my God you mean that guy that raped all those people?"

"THE ONE AND ONLY~!" Joe was happy. No one was going to face a crazy yank like Villam. And Villam...well he always gets the job done. Contessa milled the idea over for a few seconds...

"Ok, fine. First Villam then Archangel."

"WHAT~!? WAIT!!!"

"No Problem, Joe! See you at Fight Hell...."

"B-But...

...Aw, FECK."

Her bodyguard, Nord Sigmarisson, stood emotionless with his hands on his hips. Dawn usually dressed casually, being more of a jeans and t-shirt kind of gal. But the black leather mini skirt and revealing blouse made her look like she was auditioning for the casting couch.

When women dealt with Joe Campbell, he only saw them as pieces of meat. "You look like a tart. If I wasn't a professional, my trouser snake would be crawling down my leg."

"From what I've heard about Joe, this outfit should pretty much guarantee me a contract."

Dawn sighed as she adjusted her bra, emphasizing her clevage. "It's not like he cares how good of a fighter I am. Might as well take advantage of his libido."

Dawn knocked on the door. "Get lost," yelled a voice from inside.

Nord shot his employer a serious look. "Want me to go in there and pull his arms off?" he asked.

Dawn shook her head. "Not yet," she said as she pushed the door open, "but I'll let you know. If he tries anything stupid, like putting his hands - or anything else - on me, feel free to dismember him."

Joe Campbell looked up from the newspaper he was reading, an annoyed look on his face. His expression quickly morphed into a Cheshire Cat grin as he appeared to recognize the red-headed Amazon. "Ms. Van Dammage," he said as he stood up and extended his hand. "A pleasure to see you. Your pictures don't do you justice, my dear."

Dawn looked at the Asylum owner as if porcupines were growing out of his head and dancing the Macarena on his shoulders. "Uh... Joe Campbell, right?" she asked as she shook his hand.

"Last time I checked," Joe replied, motioning to a nearby chair. "Please, have a seat." Dawn, still taken aback by the rather unJoe-like greeting, cautiously sat down. Joe sat as well. "I heard you just got back from the Orient."

"Thailand, actually," Dawn corrected him.

"My mistake. It's probably good to be back though."

Dawn nodded. "Yeah... it is." She began looking around the room, trying to find the hidden cameras or unseen assailants waiting to strike. This had to be some kind of set-up. Campbell was acting very out of character, judging from what she'd heard about him.

Nord, standing by the door with his massive arms folded across his chest, was also aware of Joe's odd behavior. He decided to use a little subtle probing to find out what Joe was up to.

"Are you drunk? Stoned maybe?" he blurted.

Joe's smile remained fixed. "Neither, big fellow." He turned his attention back to Dawn. "It's actually good that you stopped by to visit. As you know, we're currently looking to expand our roster. Well, we could definitely use a fighter of your caliber. I'd taken the liberty of drawing up a contract, which I was going to have couriered to you. But it looks like you've saved me the time." Joe picked up a briefcase and opened it. He sighed as he pulled out a slip of paper and slid it across the desk.

"Are you sure you're not high?" Nord asked again.

"Nord, please." Dawn looked over the contract. She'd seen a number of business contracts in her career, and this one seemed pretty standard. But given the source, Dawn looked it over several times. "This looks great," she said finally, a surprised tone in her voice. "And quite generous."

Joe nodded and handed her a pen. "You come highly recommended. I think this will benefit everyone involved."

Dawn signed her name on the bottom of the page. She set the pen down and slid the contract back across the desk to Joe. Campbell looked at the signature and nodded in approval. He extended his hand again. "Welcome to The Asylum, Dawn Van Dammage."

Dawn paused before shaking his hand, somewhat stunned by the events of the past few minutes. "Thank you."

Joe reached for his newspaper. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a few things I have to go through."

"Of course." Nord opened the door and stuck his head into the hallway. He gave Dawn a thumbs up and stepped out of the office. "I have to admit," Dawn commented on her way out. "You're nothing like I heard. Guess you can't believe everything you hear," she said with a smile. "See you around Joe."

"It's been a pleasure." Joe watched the door close. His smile immediately dissolved. "Cripes," he muttered as he massaged his cheeks. "I thought I was going to pull something." He picked up the contract and opened the briefcase again. A darker, more sinister smile spread across Joe's face as he looked at the bundles of money inside. He set the contract on top of the pile of cash and picked up a stack of what appeared to be hundred dollar bills. "Highly recommended indeed," Joe chuckled as he thumbed through the wad of green.

I was pissed. What the fuck was Joe thinking? I'm not ready. My shoulder was just recently removed from it's sling. I haven't been training. I haven't even picked out an entrance theme yet. This was bullshit.

"Ugh. This is BULLSHIT."

Joe raised in hands in an effort to soothe me. "Calm down, Calm down...I'm sorry, ok? Contessa came in here...."

What?

"Contessa!?"

"Yeah, Contessa...and she was bitching about Steve Christ...and I had to think fast and..."

"But, did you have to say "Villam" though?"

"Man, how many times do I have to say I'm sorry?"

Like 800, Joe. Or least twice for every drop of blood I'm going to lose. Well, I guess I really don't have a choice. I don't want to let Joe down and something tells me that this issue with Contessa isn't going to solve itself. So maybe in a round about way...kicking Christ’s teeth down his throat with get me closer to some sort of confrontation with Contessa.

Yeah, right.

I reached for Joe's bottle of Jack Daniels and started gulping.

"Hey, that's MINE!" Joe yelled.

I smile.

"You didn't expect me to go out there sober did you?"

“What?” he mumbled, pushing the phone on his dry lips.

”Oh. Is it bad? I..I’m sorry,” he said as he gently placed the phone back.

She knew right away that this wouldn’t be good. Nicole stared blankly at the worker. He slumped down and placed his hand on her shoulder. She could feel her ego rotting away at this moment. All the horrible things she had done marked her now, and her faults shone. Her eyes started to water. The worker was about to tell her something that would change her life forever.

“Your mother was killed. A drunk driver swerved into her car. The police arrived at the scene to find her dead.”

For the first time in her life she really cried. She let the tears cover her entire shirt and didn’t wipe them away. Her mother was dead and there was no bringing her back. The only person in her life who loved her was gone in an instant, and she was alone. No more walks in the parks with their dog, no more joking about guys, and worst of all was that the good times were buried. Her mother lied on a doctor’s table, rotting away. Shaking, Nicole almost collapsed to the ground. She stood her ground only to burst into tears again. Her mother was so alive a few days ago.

“They’re letting you off your fight tonight. Everyone says your free to go.”

She dragged herself out of the building.

And for just one moment, one blink of an eye, one breath, all is silent.

“Underdog” by Testeagles begins to play.

Boom. Pretty colors go all over. More screaming.

Light’s, camera…Asylum.

Steve Douglas and Token Weed appear at the top ramp, as they walk down towards the cage they drag a squirming individual wrapped up in a net behind them. As they get closer to the cage they whip the net around and launch the prisoner into the cage.

“Good evening all you dirty little fucks, enjoying the night so far?!” Douglas starts off only to receive a loud screaming response filled with descriptions about him that if he heard, he would kill the man who’s mouth it came from.

“Well I’m glad your all so happy to see me yet again, looks like the dumb fucks down at the Institute let me out eh? And I just so happened to make my way down to here, and so far it seems like the place for me.” Douglas begins to laugh and turns to Token Weed, “You see Sean here, he’s my new best friend, you see friends have the same qualities…likes and dislikes…hell we even like the same music, death metal. Isn’t that right Sean?”

Token smiles, “Correct Stevie boy, speaking of death.” Token grabs a hold of the net and slices it open with his knife, Thom Downey springs out, blood pouring down his face and tears coming from his eyes, Token leans down and grabs a hold of his face, “Hi Thom. Wanna be friends? You see Steve and I need a new friend, since conveniently we have an opening.”

Thom spits a gob full of blood and mucus onto Token’s face and mumbles through a swollen mouth, “Maniacs…”

Token wipes the bloody gob off of his face, “So, there is just one catch, in order to be our friend, you have to go through…a little…initiation.” Token raises the knife behind him and Thom screams.

“Stop.”

Both Token and Douglas turn to see Angel Dalton. Douglas grins, “Hey Angel, I was just about to call you down, to get in on this.”

Angel shakes his head, “Steve, you will listen, and you will listen to me say this only once. Fuck that. I’m out; I’m through with this shit…you wanna cut people up? You wanna feel some blood?” Angel speaks in a mocking tone, “Then go fuck yourself cause I’m not going to stand by and watch as you ‘feel your true desire’…isn’t that right Sean?”

Token stands up, “Fuck you pretty boy.”

“Let him go,” Angel points at Thom Downey.

Token quickly moves his hand so that the knife is held against Thom’s throat; Douglas quickly turns back to Token, “Put it away, let him go.”

Token eyes Douglas still holding the knife there, this time Douglas stares coldly at Token, “Put it away and let him go.” Token drops the knife and Thom scatters away, Douglas turns back to Angel, “Look Angel, your upset and I realize that. But we were just having a little fun you know…do you honestly think I’d kill someone?”

Angel exits.

A cheap pop from the fans came as Eddie Cheno walked out from the back, tooting a high class bong in one hand, and a somber look on his face. He made his way to the Asylum cage rather quickly, being that he is a marked man by the boss, and that's not exactly the best thing to be in the Asylum.

When entering the cage, Cheno quickly pulled out a microphone from his other hand, which was resting in his back pocket. He tapped the top of it twice until he heard small thuds over the asylum pa speaker, and then pulled it up to his face as his theme song slowly dwindled down. "Yo mang." All he said was 'yo mang' and it got a pop. Who figures?

"Ya funken know mang? I be here for da better part of a funken year, and all I funken wanted back when I joined dis shiznit was ta funken have friends. Ta funken be a funken part of Joe Campbell and his funken life." The fans let out a chorus of boos after this meantion. "I funken tried everythin' mang, I funken risked my funken life for him, and dat shiznit ain't be good enough. I be buyin' da funken Syndication presents, and dat shit ain't be good enough for dem. I be funken tryin' ta funken prove myself, and funken lasted ta da funken end of Mind Games, before, mang, dey funken double crossed me." Cheno snarled. He placed his bong on the middle floor of the cage, before he began to stroke his chin with his now free hand.

"Now mang, I be wonderin' wat in da funken hell I was thinkin' ta be apart of Joe Campbell's funken kliq!" Cheno shouted, his face turning more into anger than anything else, even with the cheap pop. "I musta been funken insane ta wanna be apart of funken Campbell's group o finely tuned funkmangs!" Another cheap pop. "Ta funken dhink mang, I wanna funken be apart of da funken Syndication, da funken tag team champions. Well mang, dat shit only be da case since ya ain't got no competition for dose title belts there! Campbell make funken sure of it! Mega Job mang, dey be doin' deir crazy shit, Poser won't funken be allowed ta fight here, and where be funken Mike Bear? He coulda funken ripped dose funkers apart if he be here mang! So da only funken reason ya be da champs, is cuz of Joe funken Campbell... and funken Providence. Ya know mangs, if I funken had a real funken tag team partner, ya wouldn't have dose funken belts now, and after fight hell mang? I know ya ain't gonna be champs!"

Cheno exhaled, and then calmly raised his bong to his lips before taking in a hit, and then exhaling it a few second later. "Ya know mang, I ain't gonna funken start on funken Villam Ender. He maya been da funken dominating mang wen he funken beat me ta shit, but..."

Cheno just stopped. "But fur every funken success Campbell be havin', he be havin' da same in failures mang! Campbell ain't wanna see wrestler's on his show, well mang, Kenny Rock be a funken wrestler, and he had wat people call da feud of da Asylum! He funken made you rich mang, but he funken killed himself tryin' mang. Even so, you funken failed. YOU, let dat shit happen, and altough ya ain't give a funk about Kenny Rock blowin' himself up, ya gotta funken admit, dat it be a wrestler, dat made your funken promotion, dat kept dat shit alive when Borst be in da funken slammer mang. And dat shiznit be tearin' ya up inside..."

"Woah Woah Woah!" It was Providence, walking out from the back with a microphone.

"You're talking about Campbell like that? He gave you a job Cheno. Without him, you still be living in a 'funken shopping cart mang,'" Providence said, mocking Cheno's speech on the last part. "Without him Cheno, you'd be nothing but a common bum, living off disguarded pizza boxes and giving hand jobs for your next fix. You don't get it Cheno, he MADE you."

Providence pointed towards Cheno in the ring with his final word. "And you don't respect him one bit, do you?"

"Mang, ya ain't be here at da funken right time mang... I be tryin' ta..."

"You be-" Providence caught himself. "You're trying to disrespect everything Campbell has done, not only for you, but for me as well."

"Ya ain't be seeing wat he be doing Prov. He be gettin' all diss shit dirty mang, and he be takin' da funken easy way outta shit to get to the top."

"Yeah? Well, he's AT the top, and you never had that pressure. You don't know what it's like to have something riding on you."

"Well mang, I know you know how dat funken feels," Cheno looked into Providence's direction, and smiled. "Cuz ya funken dropped da ball wen ya had yer funken chance."

That was almost enough to get Providence to climb into that cage, even with Cheno and his awaiting glass bong inside. Providence grabbed a few links of the cage, before thinking better about his decision. "I'm going to come into that cage Cheno, but it's not to fight. It's not to brawl, it's to talk."

And with that, Providence slowly climbed the Asylum cage wall, making sure to keep his eyes on Cheno and his bong at all times. The bong with his name on it... "Providence," written up one side as Cheno sneered. Providence dropped down to the Asylum canvas, and held his hands out to calm Cheno as best he could.

"Listen Cheno, I'm sure we can just end this right now," Providence stated, much to the shock of the fans in audience. "If you just say to the world that you respect Joe Campbell." The crowd gasped. How could anyone in their right mind say that?

"Funk ya mang!"

Cheap Pop.

"You don't respect Campbell ONE bit, do you?"

"Ya don't funken respect me Prov, why da funk should I funken respect a two timin' scum of da funken earth Joe Campbell?"

"Well, I don't see how my not respecting you makes you unable to respect Joe Campbell..."

Providence had an idea. "How about this Cheno. Fight Hell 2, you and me... one on one, one fight to end it all..." Cheno smiled, as did Providence. He had something up his sleeve. "But the only way it can be ended, is if YOU say you respect Joe Campbell."

"And how do I funken win?"

"You win? HA! That's hillarious!" Cheno groaned. "Fine, all you have to do to beat me, is get me to say that I respect YOU!"

"There, ya just funken said it. I funken win and da funken match ain't even funken take place yet. I be funken good mang." Cheno smiled, before Providence threw a right hand. Cheno threw one back, his "Clearin' da funken table" uppercut shot, which sent Providence up onto the cage wall. Cheno followed, as each man kept exchanging blows to the backstage area.

Like any officials would break up a fight in the Asylum?

Steve Christ Vs Villam Ender

"Heresy" By NIN hits. And with it, enters Steve Christ with Contessa and Maribelle following closely behind. Villam puts out his cigarette as the crowd cheers the trio making their way ringside. Christ stomps up the steps and doesn't quite make it into the ring as Villam rushes over ant nails him with a steelchair! And without a ringing of a bell or anything...the match starts....

Villam doesn't let up with the chairshots and follows Christ out of the ring. Slamming the steelchair on his head over and over edging him ever closer to the barrier that protects the fans from the fighters. Villam gives Christ a hard front kick in the chest forcing him over the barrier. Villam goes to follow....but is stopped by a girl jumping onto his back causing him to drop the steelchair.

Maribelle.

Villam spins around with Maribelle on his back only to come face to face with Contessa who nails him in the face with a scissor kick. As Villam falls back Maribelle locks on a sleeper hold of sort with the crowd cheering the whole way. The ref comes down the steps telling the sisters to step back as a groggy Steve Christ has come to his senses and jumped back over the barrier grabbing the steel chair. Villam isn't even given a chance to get to his feet as Steve connects with some chairshots of his own.

Pulling Villam to his feet Steve lifts Villam over in a military press and drops him across the steel steps...just leaving him there nearly unconscious. Steve grabs the steelchair and points at Villam's left shoulder as Contessa jumps up and down in anticipation.

SMACK!

A steelchair buried in a healing bullet wound.

SMACK!

Again.

SMACK!

Again.

Villam's screams radiated through out the much to his opponent's and the crowds delight. Discarding the steelchair Steve gave Villam some stomps into his ribs and locks him in a fierce standing armbar. Twisting Villam's arm and bending Villam's shoulder in a way it WAS NOT meant to bend. Christ waved over to a cheering and cat calling Contessa and Maribelle before putting a foot on top of Villam's head in domination. Then, Steve climb back into the Asylum wrenching Villam's arm giving the eunuch no choice but to follow.

The Paladin sisters grab a table from under the ring sliding the table into the Asylum along with some other odds and ends.

Odd meaning a baseball bat wrapped in barbwire.

Ends meaning a long iron link chain.

Steve winks at his beautiful managers and locks Villam in the deadly fujiwara armbar on that left arm again. Only bring that left shoulder into a world of pain and a drunken Villam along with it. Steve released the hold and stood up grabbing the barbwire bat as Villam crawled over to the wire mesh and used it as support to stand. Breathing hard, Villam tried to catch his breath....

*huff* This....*huff* sucks....

A crazed Steve Christ swung the barbwire bat over head nailing Villam with and bloody overhead smash sending crimson spraying into the air. Villam nearly fell out as the second swing from the right came out of nowhere. Steve over swung and Villam saw his chance to lock him in a one armed choke hold with his right arm. With the choke hold firmly in place it looked like Steve could say goodbye to his Extreme title dreams.

Or not.

in desperation Steve stared to scrub the barbed bat against Villam's face scratching it up and making an already pretty bad head wound even worse. Villam release his own desperate hold and pushed Steve away from him with his foot sending him stumbling forward onto his face.

Villam didn't waste a second in grabbing the dropped barb covered bat for himself...Steve got back to his feet....swing batta-batta...SWING~! The bat connected with Steve sending him flying over to the left onto the unfolded table. A practically one armed Villam ran over wildly swing the bat downwards sloppily connect with any of Steve's body parts...Steve trying to get back to feet but Villam just kicked him in the chest and scrubbed the Bat into Christ's face.

Villam stood up and continued his stomping before throwing the bat clear out of the ring and picking up the chain. Villam began to furiously whip Christ with the chain before sitting on his back...placing the chain in between Christ's teeth and rearing back. Villam kept the hold locked on for a good 5 minutes and Christ was finding no way out of situation...Contessa and Maribelle looked on hoping for the best....until...

Villam took the line from inside Steve's mouth and wrapped it around Christ's neck tying the chain in a knot. Villam began gritting his teeth through his own pain as his left shoulder began to throb. Luckily Steve was well on his way to unconsciousness.....

The Crowd went wild!

A dred locked Rave Caprino arrived with piece in the left hand...and a microphone in the other. The crowd began to cheer fiercely....

"Please. Stop. Villam....I have something to say to you!!"

Rave Caprino was calling Villam out?

"It's.....

....it's a poem..."

Imaginary question marks began to float over the heads of everyone in attendance.

"Take a look at you,
Standing there with not one smile,
Alone with your pain,

All you ever did,
Was perfectly push away,
All who cared for you,

All of us complied,
Left you with insanity,
Watching with regret,

Spun a web of lies,
Spun a web to keep away,
The love toward you,

Villam sudden got off of Christ and started yelling over at Rave. None the less...Forestral continued...

Now the web has fell,
Now I have returned to you,
Yet you still push back,

What is wrong with you?,
What is it that I have done?,
What is wrong with me?,

Regardless, Villam,
I will never leave your side,
And I'll always say,

I love you, Villam."

Villam shook his head as the people had an expression on their faces that said.

"OMGWTFHETALKINGABOUT?"

Big Mistake. During all the hoopla with the poem Steve had set up the table...and just as Villam put one foot out of the Asylum. Steve picked up the Barbwire bat and cracked him over the head with it. One kick in the stomach later Steve had picked Villam up for a Powerbomb. Christ spun 360 and sent him crashing through the table in the center of ring knocking Villam out on impact.

With a grumble, Campbell looked up and answered the phone, somewhat pissed-offedly.

"This is Joe, who the fuck are you?"

There was a pause.

"Joe Campbell? This is Tom Ford, the President of the IWO." the man on the other end said.

"Oh, great. Another wrestling fucker. Well, what in the holy fucking hell do you want?"

Campbell asked rather rudely.

"Well, I'm a bit concerned about this Mega Job Invitational match that you're going to have at your next pay-per-view. You see... more than half of the participants work for my organization, and... well, this creates a bit of a situation for the both of us. On one hand, members of my roster won't be available to me for a night, and on your end, you have a bunch of idiots taking up thirty minutes of your pay-per-view." Ford said.

Campbell scratched his head before he asked the first question on his mind.

"What's your fucking point?"

"My point is that I want to broadcast this match on my show, Beach Party."

Campbell thought for all of three seconds before he responded.

"You're telling me... that you want me to let a match that is to be broadcasted on *MY* show... be broadcasted on your FUCKING STUPID WRESTLING PROGRAM!?"

"Well... yes."

Joe Campbell's face turned beat red and he screamed into the phone. "You are FUCKING STUPID! YOU ARE A STUPID FUCKING BASTARD. IF I HAD A DOLLAR FOR EVERY SINGLE FUCKING STUPID ASS SHITHEADED ASSHOLE THAT WANTED MY FUCKING PRODUCT ON THEIR SHOW, I'D BE RICHER THAN I ALREADY WERE."

There was silence in Tom Ford's end of the phone, before he responded.

"Have you not realized that the first edition of this match was originally broadcast on IWO TV? So, technically speaking, this match is just as much mine as it is yours. Otherwise, I think you might want to speak with my lawyer." Tom Ford said. "Roland something."

And suddenly, sweat began to form over the brow of Joe Campbell.

"So, are you still going to be all stubborny?" Tom asked.

Campbell took this time to wipe the sweat from his brow. "Fine. But I get fifty percent of your buyrate in return."

"No problem." Tom Ford said. "Good talking to you."

Click.

This would've been a good plan for Joe Campbell, in theory.

If only he knew that he just signed one of his matches to be broadcast on free TV, that is.

He was about to take another sip when the can was stolen from his hands!

”Give that back you fucker!”

He noticed the security guard was really a police officer. He went down a few more seats and grabbed another beer from a fan. He turned in his seat to see a ton of cops parading down the aisles, stealing drinks as they went by. He saw some violence too when the victim would retaliate, but the cops took out their nightsticks and their bodies hit the floor fast. If things didn’t cool down then a riot would break out.

“The Blood, The Sweat, The Tears” by Machine Head pierced his eardrums. Nicole walked out from the back with a box of tissues at her side. She patted her eyelids with a tissue as she walked slowly down to the Asylum. Then she made her way in with a concealed grin on her face, staring at the cops who were tossing many beer cans into the garbage.

She started, “As many of you know. I’ve…no…we’ve suffered a loss today. The loss of my mother, who I loved dearest. My mother will always have a special place in my heart. And I hope by the end of tonight, that you’ll understand the common good that will come out of this. Maybe just maybe, you too will have a special place for her in your hearts.”

Nicole wiped away a tear and continued, “It all started today. This horrible day. I was told my mother died in a car accident, but not in any car accident. A drunk driver crashed into her car, killing her. Now she is gone forever. This could have been prevented if some dumbass decided to have a few less beers. But no, what happens?!? You people have no brains. You know, you got to use the thing in your head a little more often. You have no self-control. With law and order though, you all will have to.”

A booing rose in the crowd and a man jumped the barricade only to get knocked down by a cop.

”Let me put this is in fuckhead terms: Alcohol is evil. If there were no alcohol, my mother would be alive right now! She would be enjoying herself, not in a coffin. Doesn’t that make sense, you fuckheads? Huh? Nod your heads. Nod your fucking heads!”

”Don’t get me wrong people, I’m not doing this to be a bitch or for personal gain. I’m doing this for the common good. What would happen if one of you alcoholic freaks got into your car and drove tonight? There would be another innocent person dead. Just like my mother. It’s a sin that people like you have to make the whole world suffer. So now I’m punishing you.”

“ALL ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES ARE BANNED FROM THE ASYLUM!”

A mammoth uproar rushed through the crowd and the police officers fought to contain it. Nicole stood in the ring chuckling to herself. This was hitting the fans hard. They were mighty pissed because the Asylum promoted their beer. It was one of the big points in coming.

Nicole paced around the ring, “By the way, if you’re wondering what your rights are. You have no fucking rights. That’s about all I have to say. Lets hope all of you obey this fine new law I set up here, and we’ll all be happy. We’re going to be having a lot of good times now that there is no beer.”

She dropped the microphone. “End of sermon.”

But in the dark times in the Asylum there came a hero. “Good Rats” by Dropkick Murphys signaled Gwen O’Reilly to come out from the back. She freely came out holding a bottle of gin. Nicole’s eyes widened at this but she had no time to reply.

”What do you mean no alcohol?”

Nicole looked up the ramp way at Gwen, “You are as stupid as you look, aren’t you? I’m doing us all a big favor. Now get the hell out of here.”

“Ye ain’t going to be getting my alcohol that’s for sure. Not a wee bit. And if you think your foolin’ anyone by telling them you’re sorry your mother died then you’ve been dropped on ye head a couple times.”

“How can you say that? You disgraceful bitch! I loved my mother!”

”Cut the act already. By the way, I’m looking forward to beating your ass at Fight Hell 2 and everyone is looking forward to watching. But for now have some honor and tell the truth. I know you’ve done this just to get me angry. I know you’ve done this because my gin is my life!”

Gwen looked up at Nicole with a drunk stare then continued, ”You say I have no rights? Watch this then tell me.”

Gwen fumbled her bottle of gin and then took a swig of it. The crowd erupted into cheers and some attempted to steal back their beers but Nicole pointed her finger at the breaker of the rule. A pack of cops ran over to Gwen with nightsticks raised. When they approached, they swung at her but she was quick and smashed the bottle of gin over one of their heads. He slumped to the ground and lay there, as Gwen punched another down.

However, there was too many of them and she was taken down. The cops held her close and tried to drag her to the back. Gwen flung herself toward Nicole one more time but was contained and finally pulled away.

“See you in hell.” Nicole whispered while she exited the alcohol free Asylum.

"Uh, Villam! VILLAM~! Wait...."

Great. Joe.

"Egh...What?"

"What's going on?"

What a stupid fucking question.......

"Um, nothing Joe. Nothing at all. Goin' home actually..."

"OH! Really? Well...can you do me one quick favor before you take off for tonight?"

Don't like the sound of this. The last favor got me my ass handed to me. But, that was all because of Rave. Fucking Rave.

"What's that, Joe?"

"I need someone to pummel the shit into LLB. He's been nosing around for a match and since you're the only one around at the moment I thought...."

"Fuck you, Joe. I just got put through a table....."

"Oh............."

"Fine. I'll do it. I'll do it because I'm still drunk. But after tonight do not ask anything of me for the few weeks. Fuckface."

"Ah-er, Alright....here you go....."

The last of his Jack Daniels. I took the bottle and downed it. Then smiled an alcohol smile. Yeah, even in the face of my own drunken demise.

"Thanks."

Here we go again.

Angel pushes Steve back, “Relax? Are you fucking nuts? You expect me to just hop on this bloody rampage with you, when you just show up at my doorstep. Fuck that shit Steve, I’m not into this whole ‘feeling the pain’ shit.”

Douglas’ eyes become cold and empty, “Angel, don’t fuck with me! You agreed to be in this with me and now your backing out? Some friend.”

“But Steve,” Angel moved towards his locker room door, and pushes it slightly open, “You have a new best friend, remember?”

Douglas does not respond and Angel enters his locker room. The door closes and Angel walks slowly across the room trying to calm himself down, only to notice a small envelope.

Angel picks the envelope up and opens it; he pulls from it a small piece of paper, which he unfolds…

“Angel Dalton are you curious? Are you frustrated? Confused? All your answers lie only in one place… Smithy’s Restaurant.”

Angel drops the piece of paper, “What the fuck is happening?”

Villam Vs LLB

"Black and White" by Static-X hit the PA and with a joyful noise the crowd cheered on their hero, LLB. The wrestling Lawyer nodded to the fans and walked up the steel steps into the Asylum...the start fight bell rang in the distance...

Villam charged LLB hitting him with a drunkenly shitty display of punches...landing sloppily on no particular target. LLB takes a few, wakes up and dishes out a few of his own. After 3 right Villam is on the ground...LLB puts some boots into him and some kicks to the head for good measure. Villam takes a few more boots to the face, but rolls out of the way and gets to his feet...LLB charges in, but straight into side kick into the face!!

The crowd laughs.

The force of the side kick sends a drunken Villam down to the mat in the opposite direction.

LLB gets back wiping a bit of blood from his lip. LLB kneels down a bit and looks to hit the Erroneous Conclusion....charging into Villam for a Spear...Villam just drop toe holds him into the wire mesh. Pulling LLB to his feet Villam lifts LLB up for a back body drop but LLB flips over and behind....

...landing completely wrong...

His left ankle twists in on itself and Villam sees his chance!

A flurry of punches sends a crippled LLB over the side of the Asylum...ending the match with a chorus of jeers.

Unfortunately for Cheno, he wasn’t the only person in the back still looking to get his hands on someone.

Out of the shadows came Providence, wielding a lead pipe that quickly came crashing down on the back of Cheno’s neck. Cheno immediately fell forward to the ground, grasping at the back of his neck in both shock and pain. Providence continued the assault, raining down blows with the pipe at a furious pace. Finally, he stopped for a moment and allowed Cheno to roll to his side and look up at his attacker.

“It’s all coming to an end, Eddie,” he said breathing in deeply with his eyes closed. “All of your failures…all of your mistakes…they will all be forgotten, Eddie. You and I will get in the cage at Fight Hell, Eddie, and you will become a new man.” Cheno looked up at Providence and started to try and pull himself up. “Funk you, mang. Dis Saturday…”

Before Cheno could get out the words, Providence opened his eyes wide and swung the pipe down upon Cheno’s shoulder. “You’re a failure, Eddie. All your life you’ve been a failure…you trusted Joe when he could never associate with scum like you…” CRACK “…you trusted Krueger and Nowell…” CRACK “…you trusted ME…” CRACK “…you couldn’t even commit suicide right, Eddie…” CRACK “…you just keep going in that cage just to LOSE, Eddie…”

CRACK. Despite the attacks, a bit of defiance swelled inside Cheno as he started to raise up again. “Ya mang? At least I funken beat you!” Providence angrily swung the pipe again, this time connecting with Cheno’s head.

Cheno tried to block out the pain in his body, but the repeated blasts with the pipe had sent waves of it throughout his body. As Providence slowly bent down to Cheno’s prone body, Cheno readied himself for another attack from the bat. Instead, Providence leaned forward with his lips near Cheno’s ear and whispered, “But you know what the greatest failure of all is, don’t you, Eddie? You could have had her, Eddie. You and Jett could have lived happily together…grown old together…had kids together. But you fucked that up too, didn’t you, Eddie? Your life is all about failure…”

As Providence slowly rose back to a standing position, Cheno looked up into his eyes. For all of the swings of the bat, all of the punches and kicks he had endured, that last comment had hurt more than any of it. Cheno almost seemed defeated as he looked up at Providence, his eyes raging with fury, but his body unable to allow him to do anything about it. Providence just looked down and smiled before continuing.

“With all of your failures…all of your mistakes….all of your poor choices…I could NEVER respect you, Eddie. I could never respect what you are. You are nothing, Eddie. You are worthless. That’s all going to change, though, Eddie. Everything is going to change, Eddie….Everything.”

With that, Providence delivered a final, swift swing with the pipe to Cheno’s skull. As blood flowed, Cheno’s head fell forward and came to rest on the concrete. Providence dropped the pipe from his hand and walked away down the hall, as the clang of the pipe on the floor resonated throughout the hallway.

The Movement Vs Team Campbell
(No Women Images To Be Selected Because They Are Inferior)