Yep, brilliant.

"This Sunday is Manhunt," Joe rambled while pacing back and forth. "and it's going to be important for us. I'm not expecting any of you three to WIN the damn match..." Maxwell shot him a look. "But I want you guys to take your shots..." Campbell looked up to see Cheno and Krueger's gaze on one another, and not him.

"THAT'S IT! I'm SICK and tired of you two." Campbell roared. "This Sunday, you two aren't just going to be in the Manhunt match, you're going to be fighting each other!" The crowd let out roars of approval. "And when all is said and done, you two better be able to be in the same room without wanting to kill one another!" Joe paused, while waiting for a response. He didn't get any, "So GO!"

Cheno nodded and turned around, exiting the room. Krueger cracked his fingers. "It vill be my pleasure!" Hans said, before he exited as well.

Campbell started to pace once more, as Maxwell stood there motionless. He then let out a small cough, which was meant to get Joe's attention.

"You? Fine, you want something to do? You can take that rotten no good ArchAngel out for me at Manhunt, okay?" Joe sighed, and Maxwell smiled.

"As long as I get my cash."

Let's just say Poser's body had more bruises than a rotten apple.

Poser cracked his neck from side to side, literally hearing the sound echo throughout the Asylum hallways. "That CAN'T be good."

"It's just your neck Eddie" Cameraman Mark walked out from the corner, coffee in hand. "It's pretty damn durable you know."

"Well, obviously I don't if I said it can't be good that I cracked it!" Poser sighed. "Come on Marky Mark!" Cameraman Mark pointed over Eddie's shoulder, not acknowledging the words that escaped his escaped mental patient of a friend's mouth. His jaw dropped and he began to mutter like a school girl. "What is it?" Poser asked, getting nothing of a verbal response from Mark. "YOU WILL ANSWER NOW OR FAITH THE WRATH OF POLAND! And I'm warning you, our wrath is effective. Our wrath was voted on the top one hundred wrath's in music history by VH1. Of course, that damn Tubthumping song got number one. Man, talk about brainwashing."

That's when Chris Universal bumped into Poser's shoulders, practically shoving him away as he continued without breaking stride. It was the first time the two of them actually saw the main share-holder of the Asylum, and Poser was going to make this moment... meaningful.

"Christy!" Poser shouted after Universal, who didn't break his stride. "Mr. Universe! Turn around! It's a faithful employee! It's the King of Poland!" Nothing. "YOU WILL BOW TO ME~!" Now THAT got Universal's attention. Chris turned around and shot Poser a glare that could have melted ice, as Poser immediately stammered and coughed in fear. He began to sweat and tugged at his collar repeatedly. "Uhmmm... Hi Mr. Universe, my name's Eddie Scott Poser, and I'm Asylum's answer to Funaki! I wanted to ask you a few questions about stuff."

Universal's eyes narrowed.

"I'll take your lack of a response as a yes. Now, do you enjoy light mayo or dark mayo?" Silence. "One blink for light, two for dark." Nothing. "Fine, I see you aren't a big mayo fan. How about peanut butter and Jelly? Which would you rather have on your sandwich? Peanut butter or Jelly. And since I'm a top reporter, you can only have one! You CAN'T have both! Ha! How's THAT for tough questions." Universal still said nothing. "Fine, not a big man on the whole food issue. How about this. Getting me a contract for the Asylum as a fighter? Huh?!? That would be SWEET, wouldn't it?!?" Poser's eyes gleamed as he fluttered his eye lashes like a small child. "Pwetty pwease?" Poser let out a puppy dog frown.

"Wait, you're in my halls and you're not even an employee?"

"I am too! I'm the interview guy who gets paid in peanuts." Poser rubbed his stomach.

"Mmmmm, I could sure go for some right now. Cameraman Mark! GO! FETCH ME MY SEPTOR MADE FROM PEANUTS!"

"I'm not a german sheppard you freak." Cameraman Mark turned and walked away, presumably out of the building. Universal turned around to walk away once more, but Poser grabbed him by his shoulder to twist him around.

Big Mistake.

"So! Can I have a fight?!? Can I do some DAMAGE!" Poser said, before punching the air.

"Look at these moves!" He does a small flurry and accidentally hits a nearby wall. He reaches down and grabs his knuckles and bends over in pain. "Holy christ that hurts like a mother fucker! Joe Campbell would be so proud that I took that like a man, he'd HAVE to give me a contract if you didn't!"

"He'd give you a contract?"

"Well, no, he hasn't yet after numerous attempts. I'm starting to dislike that guy." Poser said. "I hear he's like El Janito. He's not really british, he just likes saying the word bloody alot." Poser tapped his nose before nodding his head up and down.

"So, let me get this straight? You want to fight but Joe doesn't want you in an Asylum cage, correct?"

"Pretty much."

"Then you're HIRED!" Huge pop. Poser literally jumped up and down before doing the moonwalk. He even threw on the Michael Jackson laugh at the end. "You'll be fighting Devoid later tonight."

Universal turned around and walked away, a smile on his face. He was able to piss Joe Campbell off even further and get ride of that annoying little runt for good.

He just got a twofer.

Daniel Phillips Vs cHEESE

Daniel Phillips stormed out of the locker room area and into the rabid tempest of the Asylum area. The crowd cheered, for their new king had arrived. The same man whom, four months ago, would've been booed out of the arena thanks to the very same attitude that he portrayed here in the Asylum.

Life was strange.

Daniel Phillips found it so, and was also finding himself gradually liking the idea of a crowd that loved him. Of course, he didn't care if the crowd was slowly and painfully dipped in a vat of nitric acid which contained acid-resistant piranhas that happened to be trained to aim at the crotch first.

Daniel entered the cage, and awaited his opponent. That's when "X-Tra Nipple" by the Ass Ponies began to play. Out came cHEESE, who was being guided somewhat to the ring by egg NOG. cHEESE saw that Daniel Phillips was in the cage, and he frowned.

"I thought you said that this was an eating contest against myself!" cHEESE shouted.
To which, egg NOG replied with a shrug. "Okay, so he joined the contest. He doesn't look like much of an eater, you're sure to win."

cHEESE wandered into the cage, and egg NOG did not follow. cHEESE looked at egg NOG questioningly, "Where's the food?"

The bell suddenly rang.

cHEESE suddenly realized what had happened, and he turned around to see Daniel Phillips rushing at him with a leg lariat. cHEESE fell to the canvas in a heap, and Phillips pounded on him with right hands. He pulled a groggy cHEESE back up to his feet and proceeded to give him the finger.

"What the fuck, that's it?!"

He kicked cHEESE in the nuts, just because he felt like being a mean bastard today. This is a step up from his normal mode, where he simply acts like a bastard. As cHEESE winced in pain, Daniel shrugged and told him to get the fuck up.

When he did, Daniel decided to start absolutely destroying cHEESE. So, he hit a single arm DDT and followed up by applying his chickenwing and half-nelson submission hold, the Royal Treatment. However, cHEESE really didn't feel like being in the hold, and quickly dropped down into a jawbreaker to break. Daniel was stunned, and cHEESE decided that now would be a good time to, you know, actually mount an offense. He punched at Daniel a few times, but when he tried to land the DUPLO™, Daniel took the opportunity to take advantage of his great leg strength.

He climbed up the Asylum cage itself and leapt off, backflipping up, over, and away from cHEESE. cHEESE spun around, but by then, it was too late, as Phillips gave him the double deuce, kicked him in the gut, and hooked the front facelock. He lifted cHEESE into an Implant DDT and then snapped him into the Diamond Cutter.

Perfect Halo.

Drive through and have a nice day.

The ten count was registered, and Daniel Phillips was announced the winner to the cheers of the crowd. It was rapidly becoming obvious that the self-proclaimed King of the Cruiserweights, much to his surprise despite his constant state of misanthropy, not to mention the fact that he was a wrestler, had grown quite popular with Asylum fans.

The irony of it all.

It was.

Looking up at the door plate, the Crowd was caught off guard.

It read “Chris Universal”.

Then, the nerves struck Miles Blunder. This was the Owners’ office after all. But he didn’t let his mind think about these things too much, not this time, as he pushed the door back and walked inside.

There, Chris Universal sat. He looked up at Miles Blunder and smiled... well, kind of.

“Yes? What can I do for you?”

Miles ran the words over in his head a number of times, taking about thirty seconds of silence before speaking. He wanted to make sure he would not stutter, and not give Chris Universal a hard time.

“I’d like- like my own locker room back, sir.”

One stutter, that was pretty good. Blunder gave himself a high-five in his mind.

Universal looked up from his chair, as he was caught up by Miles Blunder’s reassuring voice. He had heard throughout the backstage that ‘The Germ Gestapo’ was an idiot, and couldn’t say a word without looking like the fool that he was.

Universal looked back down at his desk.

“I’ll tell you what Miles... - it is Miles right?”

Blunder nodded.

“Regardless of how impressed I am of your deliverance towards me, I just cannot grant you your own locker room. Not with all these new fighters coming in. We’re already pressed for space and the single locker rooms go to the stars like Exxa, and even people like the Inmate...” Universal glanced at Miles, as he stood up from his chair. “But I’ll tell you what.

You win your fight tonight, and I’ll give you your own locker room back.”

Blunder reluctantly nodded before turning around, walking to the office door.

“Wait.”

He was stopped by Chris Universal again.

Miles slowly turned, as Universal dug into his office desk. “Its gotta be here somewhere.”
And finally snatching what he wanted to, Universal pulled out a video tape. He walked across his office floor, over to the television that sat there in the corner. Turning it on and throwing the tape in, Miles walked towards him.

The tape was of Miles. It was a home video more or less. It was of him and his wrestling/ fighting skills at home.

But the Crowd was shocked. That surely wasn’t Miles Blunder. Not after all those brilliant moves he kept on pulling.

Universal looked at Blunder one final time.

“This is why we hired you. Show us this... and you can get whatever you want.”

‘The Germ Gestapo’ nodded.

“Show us this... and you WILL become noticed!”

"Yeah?"

"It's time to go find the fucker who attacked me."

"Could this have waited until later?"

The flush of the 'ol commode. Ruben Ross had just finished dropping off the Cosby kids at the pool. Out stepped the former fWo World champion, the "Black Plague". In one hand, a newspaper -- the other hand, well, a clenched fist.

"Biggs... why are you standing outside my stall like that?"

"I'm excited."

"You're making it look like I was a four year old that had never used a shitter before."

"Sorry."

"Be glad I'm helping you and not trying to stab you myself."

"I'll remember that."

"Who's first on our list of suspects?"

"Uh... Wasp was. But, y'know, now I don't think it was him. His dad would have walked around talking about how his son had attacked a great big 'ol black man like me.”

Ruben scratched his head. "How about we take out the Third Coming? I think it really was... Christ. Y'know, he probably stuffed some cotton or something in that shirt he was in to make himself seem bigger."

"Yeah."

The two walked off to make a plan.

Faith rubbed her hands together, checking her tights to see if they looked very proper and sexy.

As she heard the Fans whistle inside the stands, she knew that they were.

Looking up at the door plate, the sign read “Chris Universal”.

Without any hesitation, she entered.

Universal looked up, seeing Faith walk in. He smiled, only to check her out from head to toe before welcoming her. “Hello there.”

Faith rubbed the back of her neck as she strutted towards his desk.

“Hi Chris.”

“What can I do for you tonight?”

Faith stopped about three feet away from his desk, before digging the front of her right shoe into the ground, looking innocently up at the 60% Owner.

“I’d like my own locker room back.”

Universal seemed confused.

“That IDIOT Miles Blunder. I cannot work with that idiot anymore! Do you know what he did to me, Chris? Do you!?”

He shook his head no.

“I felt bad for him... so I tried to make it up TO him, by giving him another Title Match against my rival Nicole Carson. Guess what?

When I told him the news... he beat the crap out of me!

And then he LOST!

Pft. I’m not even talking about a well-fought loss.

He got WASTED.”

Faith paused, waiting for Universal to reply. Then realizing she wanted him to, he did.
“Here’s what I can do for you, Faith...”

She seemed pretty mad; hopefully this was going to make her happy.

“I promised Miles if he won tonight, he gets his own locker room back.

I’ll promise you the same.

And I’ll put you against him. Tonight. There?”

She grinned evilly.

“There.”

*tap tap*

"you there?"

The voice came in a whisper, as if that person was hiding. In this case, they were. cHEESE's head poked out from behind a small box as he looked in all directions for anyone that might notice him.

He whispered back, "yeah, I'm here."

"good." egg NOG replied as he looked over his shoulder down the hall. "Do you remember how the plan goes?"

"yeah, do you think this will work? i mean, this won't end up like the eating contest will it?" cHEESE asked, rubbing his 'area'.

NOG gulped. "uh, no. gah! just hide, dammit!"

He was pretty sure the way he was going was going to lead to some form of alcoholic beverage. Or at least an ass to begin kicking.

He didn't get very far with either hope, as he had four fists, separate but working in unision, strike down on his back and his head. He fell to his hands and knees. Ruben Ross and Biggs Dangsta, Stranglehold people, surrogate "sons" of Chris Universal and Exxa Decimal, the men who had brought them inwards to the Asylum, to help spread the virus.

Now was the time to eat up the cells -- only, this wasn't how Universal and Decimal had plotted it out.

This was personal strikes.

Ruben grabbed Christ, lifted him up.

And Spiked the Ratings.

"... Was it you?" Biggs said afterward, grabbing Christ by his shirt, and pulling him close to his face. "Are you the one that wants me to go back where I came from?"

Christ opened one eye.

He rolled, and he pushed. The momentum pushed Biggs onto a catering table, spilling drinks and coffee.

"No, you dumb fuck. I don't even know what you're talking about."

With that, Christ turned onto his stomach, and slowly got to his feet. He was a bit achey from the Ratings Spike... but he still wanted his alcohol.

“I guess it wasn’t him,” Biggs said with a giant smirk.

Ruben shrugged. "Ya’ know, I never really thought it was him.”

Soaked, Biggs replied. "Oh?"

“I just don’t like that guy.”

He walked in, beginning to stretch his neck as he took a deep breath of fresh air. The lawyer then walked over to some weights positioned on the floor. He picked one of them up, before turning around.

He had heard a noise. Someone else had passed through the hallway, continuing to walk down the hall. His voice was raspy, as the sound of metal plates clinging against one another could lightly be heard as well.

LLB paused as he placed the weights back on the floor, and walked to the entrance door again. He peered out, only to see Providence turning the corner, TV Championship Belt in hand as he carried his suitcase in the other. The Fans booed seeing this, as the camera turned back to LLB.

He smiled, before sarcastically shaking his head.

Following that, the lawyer went back to his weights, and Providence... well, LLB was positive he knew what he was going to do with his spare time.

Janitor Seven. The tallest janitor, at 5 foot and 11 inches of pure cleaning madness. He stood in the hallway, not sure of his situation at the current moment. All he had in his hand was a mop and a mask, handed to him.

The mask scared him. It had a skull on it, and with his regular wussiness, Seven was scared enough to have a death grip on it.

It's no wonder, then, that he would be attacked.
From forward and behind.

The first person Janitor Seven noticed was Ruben Ross, walking down the halls, looking for something.

And then, Ruben stopped. He pointed.

Was it at him?

Oh, now he was running. Maybe Seven should move out of the way.

Or maybe this is the guy who he was supposed to meet.

Janitor Seven. The tallest janitor, at 5 foot and 11 inches of pure cleaning madness. He stood in the hallway, not sure of his situation at the current moment. All he had in his hand was a mop and a mask, handed to him.

The mask scared him. It had a skull on it, and with his regular wussiness, Seven was scared enough to have a death grip on it.

It's no wonder, then, that he would be attacked.
From forward and behind.

The first person Janitor Seven noticed was Ruben Ross, walking down the halls, looking for something.

And then, Ruben stopped. He pointed.

Was it at him?

Oh, now he was running. Maybe Seven should move out of the way.

Or maybe this is the guy who he was supposed to meet.

*CRACK*

Okay, nevermind. Ruben Ross had just knocked Janitor Seven a clear five feet backwards with the push of his shoulder.

And the next thing he saw was Biggs Dangsta slamming a foot in his face.

Then, Ruben Ross had to have kicked him into the nuts -- or he had gotten a sudden and severe case of gonnohrea.

Either way: sucktitude. On a major level.

"Now... ya little cleaning boy... why are you holding that mask?"

"BY THE GRACE OF GODLINESS AND CLEANLINESS, PLEASE DON'T HURT ME MR. NUT-KICKER AND FACE SMASHER!"

"... Uh, Biggs..." Ruben looked at the tiny frame of Janitor Seven. "... This couldn't have been the guy who attacked you."

"Well, he's got a mask."

"He's also not even six feet tall."

Exxa stood in front of the growing Stranglehold army, all of them seated in their respective chairs applauding the very welcome addition of Ace Carter.

Exxa cleared his throat and the applause slowly died.

"They object of this meeting is to address some of the possible pathways in which the enemy may take in order to deter the agenda.

Spiders and such lecherous schemers speak of plans among Campbell's men to injure several Stranglehold men before the Battle of Manhunt on November. I sure that feel that his plan is quite secret or perhaps they are using it to distract us from some bigger scheme. No matter...we shall take the bait."

This didn't sit well with those in the room, but Exxa was quick to calm them.

"We shall take that bait by biting first with his very own hook and reel. Joe will use every loyal men to keep me from winning Manhunt and facing Inmate, meaning that before this PPV he will attack our men in an effort to injure. Thusly, you all should not be drawn out. However, I am in need of a volunteer to use this very scheme against Campbell. Perhaps our newest recruit would like to oblige?"

Ace Carter nodded his young head in agreement.

"Ah, grand.

Mr. Carter your target is Villam Ender."

The room silenced itself. Exxa's pause was out of normal speech pattern, for he did not care for the reputation that many of Joe's men hand and to give in to such fear for sin was a sin in and of itself.

"Let us not worry. A man is a man. Man as bones and tendons and I want those not working at 100% come Manhunt. We wouldn't want to over do it and make our strategy too obvious. Thusly, I have chosen one - and only one of Joseph’s more feared Knights. Note, that I said: "Feared". This is a lesson that you will learn.
Fear is an instrument of evil. Once we show that we will throw even our freshest of faces at one of the Asylum's oldest of fools then we show them how much we dishonor such marketed and sinful reputations....

...Ace...

As soon as this meeting is over, I want you to call Villam Ender out and demand a match with him on the spot. Time is of the essence as Inmate nor Devoid has shown up yet. Fight the Fight and later you will be joined by Noah Hawkins and Jeff Garvin.

Destroy him and be done with it."

The men from Biggs to Universal all nodded.

Under his mask Exxa smiled and said:

"Amen."

Faith Vs ‘The Germ Gestapo’ Miles Blunder
(Personal Locker Room Rights)

“The Other Man” by Sloan.

Miles Blunder walked out in that same garbage bag he wore during his UK Championship contest with Nicole Carson last week, as he paced down the ramp and reluctantly entered the cage.

Faith was set to come out next... and Faith, was pissed off.

Really, really pissed off.

She thought she’d be nice to Miles Blunder last week. She thought she’d kill two birds with one stone.

She thought she’d give Blunder, her roommate, another Title shot after the one he totally blew against Steve Christ... and that, a Title shot at her rival Nicole Carson. For the UK Title.

But Miles didn’t take it all that well. He feared girls. He feared them more than germs... more than the Asylum and the millions of Fans that watched him day in and day out themselves.
Faith’s theme began, as she paced down to some cheers from the Crowd. Not a lot, but compared to Miles Blunder, they’d cheer her over him any day of the week.

She walked down the ramp and entered the cage, as the bell rang. Blunder did nothing though. He just kinda stood... hoping that maybe Faith would forget he was there.

Right.

Faith threw her body into ‘The Germ Gestapo’, crushing his face with a brilliant right hand. Blunder fell down...

And he was not going to get up?

She did it for him.

‘End of Sanity’.

The Fans cheered... or, well, most of them actually laughed. Miles Blunder Matches never seemed to last too long... but this one, might be over the shortest of seconds.

Cue the UK Champion, Nicole Carson.

She ran down the ramp as she got into the ring, striking Faith across the face with a spinning heel kick. Faith fell to the mat, as Nicole crouched over her, reigning countless lefts and rights into her skull.

Miles Blunder stood up, shocked. Worried. Fearing for his life.

That’s when Faith reversed it. She rolled on top of Carson, beginning to do the same.

The two broke apart, as Faith stopped for a moment to catch her breath. She looked at Carson.

And in a rather comical event, Miles Blunder just wanted to run away. He tried to, by sneaking by the both of them, hell, he was just going to exit the cage and let Faith win. Maybe he didn’t need his own locker room that badly after all.

But Faith saw him go by. She stopped, turned, and saved him the trouble.

The bell went, as Carson ran to spear Faith... and she did.

Thus, they started the punching battle all over again. Carson rolled on top of Faith, only to have that reversed as Faith rolled on top of the UK Champion. The bell rang a number of times, as a few Ref’s ran down the ring to ply them from each other’s grasps.

This cued Chris Universal to walk out from behind the back, microphone in hand as he yelled at the two to stop fighting.

Realizing that the 60% Owner was standing there, they did, only to have more Referee’s get in their way.

“Well...” Universal said as he stroked his goatee. “Faith, congrats, you’ll now have your own locker room again.”

Faith sneered towards the direction of Miles Blunder as he slowly rose from the floor below.

“However, at ManHunt, let’s have a UK Championship Title Match, shall we?” This time Faith looked at Carson, and sneered. “The rematch. Faith against Nicole Carson.”

Pause.

“And Miles Blunder!”

Universal smirked before exiting back through the curtains, as Faith and Carson stopped staring each other in the eyes.

They looked across the Asylum’s net, down at Miles Blunder, whom slowly got up. He, too, looked back at them... driven into fear.

Faith turned to Carson.

Carson then did the same.

And as they both broke apart from the Referee’s clutches, ‘The Germ Gestapo’ watched on in fear, as he saw the both of them literally tear through each other on the mat, with no sense of mercy at all.

On Pay-Per-View... six days away, in order for Miles Blunder to once again prove himself...

he’d have to go through an absolute hell.

Fainting to the mat, Miles Blunder tried to find a happy place...

And with it, the young and vengeance hungry Ace Carter. The booing did little to disrupt his walk to the cage, upon entering he was passed a microphone and quickly started to speak.

"Well, well, well...I got up this morning, kicked Joe's mother off of my cock and out of my bed. I fixed myself a complete breakfast, did some lifting and then I hit the internet to check out the Asylum website...

...You know, to watch how the surprise of the century would unfurl.

Low and behold, I'm suddenly viewing a weird image with the letters. "T-F-Z on them. And underneath it says...

"Blah, Blah, Blah...
When we're done.
You'll beg for Villam."

I know that my initial reaction should've been fear.

But I looked deep, deep inside and I'll be damned if I didn't find an ounce of the stuff.

Fancy that.

After all why in the hell should I care? Who is "TFZ" anyway? And why is it when it comes to getting "fucked" or getting involved in especially dangerous situations that someone has to drop Villam's name? You people should realize something...

...outside of the Asylum, Big bad booty snatcher Villam doesn't exist. There isn't a wrestler that knows this mystical assgrabber's name and there isn't a wrestler that cares to know. Did you think that by dropping Villam's name we would think, oh-uh...we better haul ass...they just said that they would do something worse than violently taking our asses..."
Ace rolled his eyes and began to pace the ring as the crowd fired off a fresh round of jeers.

Suddenly...Ace stopped.

Dead in his tracks and launched one finger into the air as if a light bulb suddenly went off in his head.

"Wait!

OOOOOOooooooohhhhh.

Ok.

Now I get it. I didn't understand before, but now I'm 100%, Ace Carter sure that I know what TFZ stands for.

The Fag Zone.

Isn't that nuts? Not only nuts...but balls and ass? It seems that we have pissed off the Rainbow Coalition.

They must be upset that their spokesfag Villam isn't in the spotlight, with secondary spokesfag Joe Cockrocker. After all, this place supports such lifestyles with that gung-ho type of anti-christian liberalism. Why shouldn't they be upset?"

More booing rocked the arena...and Ace raised his hands up in surrender...

"Hey, hey. Don't get me wrong. I mean if you want to be gay then be gay. I really have no problem with it.

But, just...

Just don't expect anyone to be afraid of you once you have sex with a grown man on live television and get your penis chopped off a week later.

It's simple, folks-Whoever you are.

If we aren't afraid of Villam.

We definitely ain't gonna be afraid of you.

As...a matter of fact.

I'll take Villam on right now, in order to show you how much the Stranglehold and I could give a crap less that you're going to "fuck us worse than Villam did."
So come on out Villam. Come on out and get your beating! Become our prime example of what we do to uppity idiots."

Ace folded his arms and produced quite the smug look on his face. His tapping toe counted down the minutes...

"COME ON! I don't have all night. Either you come out or I come back there and bring you out."

Ace frowned.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"Orange Rolls, Angel Spit" pumped out over the PA. Villam entered somehow clapping with a microphone in his hand, each connection making a 'boom-boom-boom' sound over the monitor. With a one sided smile he scoffed into the microphone bring on cheers...

"Kid, does this look like the WWE to you?

'Come out or I'll bring you out'?

Ha-Ha, that's funny...I think I heard The Big Show use that on Smackdown last week. I really like that...really I do...

Wait.

No, I don't.

Who in the shit do you think you are? You come out here and use my crap reputation as a platform for your shitty little debate...and then you don't even introduce yourself? Not only are you a little fucking brat, but you're rude too?"

Villam shook his head in a fatherly type fashion, as the crowd cheered him on...Ace was not pleased.

"What? Rude? What the fuck are you talking about?" Ace said...

Villam's head stopped shaking.

"Who are you?

You come out here, call *me* out and you don't even introduce yourself? Who raised you, son? By the looks of things you've got that 'Daddy doesn't love me' thing going on. Is that why you joined Stranglehold? So that Pop-Pop will realize that his little boy is a man now? Do you really think that you can call me out here, kick the crap into me and go back home to daddy - hugs and kiss XOXOXOX?

Kid...

I've fucked tougher asses than you."

Oooo.

The crowd remembered. Using it as a tool to throw insult at a Stranglehold member was fine though.

They'll boo him later. Ace looked ready to boo him, right now. After a long pause...A winking Villam offered:

"No Offense."

Yeah, right. As if that'll make it any better. Great.

Villam continued nonetheless...

"I'm going to give you 5 seconds to rethink your platform. Because if you keep playing around like this...I'm going to take your ass right up out of game.

Period.

And I'm not fucking around either. Daddy ain't gonna be here to save Junior once I start craving the Thanksgiving Turkey early...

All over your face."

Villam now...folded his arms and tapped his foot.

Ace just shrugged.

"Extreme Match, then. Right now. This very second. Let me show you what 'Daddy' taught junior about loud mouth little girlies."

Villam dropped the microphone and walked towards the cage...

...right into Stranglehold's trap.

We come in on Ruben and Biggs holding Avo up against a wall somewhere near the curtain for the Asylum's entrance path. Mexico's Purple Monster isn't quite sure what's going on.

All he knows is that Ruben Ross, of Stranglehold, (not that he really remembers this -- this is just clarification for those who have been sitting under a rock these couple of past months) has his fist right in Avo's face, and is threatening to send it going forward.

And Biggs Dangsta, another Stranglehold guy, is right next to his ear, whispering questions to him in a threatening manner.

Boy, if he could wet himself, he would.

"So where's the guy who attacked me, Avo?" Biggs sneered. "Where is he? I know you know where he is -- and who he is. He'd trust you, wouldn't he? You wouldn't tell anyone, because you wouldn't remember."

Avo blinked. "Ahhhhh... dunno?"

"Well, maybe we'll just beat it out of you."

Ruben brought his fist and sent a loud crack busting through Avo's eardrums, courtesy of his cheekbone. Avo went sliding down the hallway wall, to the floor. Ruben gave him a swift kick with his boot.

Biggs settled in, doing the same.

And, angry at their lack of an answer, they didn't stop for quite a few minutes.

And they didn't care where their feet connected.

Avo was only a release.

“Wait,” Biggs pulled back Ruben. “Run you little fuck.”

Avo didn’t even think for a second as he scrambled and dashed out of the area immediately.

Ruben looked over at Biggs with a puzzled look. “What was that for?”

“Bait.”

Villam Ender Vs Ace Carter

And Ace was off of his.

Instead of waiting for Villam to get into the cage, Ace opted instead for launching him out of said cage and knocked the wind out of Villam with a huge body splash. The connection took Villam initial momentum out and Ace laid noisy punches into Villam Ender's face. Pulling him to his feet Ace whipped Villam into the crwod barrier and charged into Villam sending him over the barrier with a lariat.

The match quick spilled out in to the crowd and Ace was on Villam like white on rice. Or white on brown rice...or isn't brown on brown rice?

WHAM!?

Camera looks down at teenage Asylum fan on the ground and pans back up to Ace Carter wielding a chair against Villam.

WHAM!

Another chair sent Villam to the floor. Ace pulled him to his feet and whipped into the barrier again...yet again picked up the discarded chair...and charged towards Villam...

WHAM!

Connects! Villam is sent flying over the barrier yet again! The crowd is shocked that the 20 something year old 'rookie' wrestler is put his money where his mouth is and backing up his claims. Ace in a supreme act of bravado, climbs up on the barrier and a laughs at his fallen opponent. Villam slowly gets to his feet looking up at Ace Carter...Ace raises the chair...

WHAM!!

No.

Well, yes actually.

Villam is hit with the chair but only partially as he used his forearm as a buffer. Ace tried to come down on Villam with that chair again and no luck.

Villam grabs the chair and flips it about...swings...

Clipping Ace with the edge of steelchair sending him into an already belligerent crowd who begin to pummel Ace Carter themselves!? Before Ace can start to fight back Villam climbs the top of the barrier...a couple of feet away from one who was one 21W's top star...the people move...

...Ace slowly get to his feet...

...And Villam run on the barrier - Jeff Hardy style - crashing into Ace with the chair!!

The holy shit chants start up and Ace Carter doesn't know where the fuck he is. Villam stands at Ace Carter's feet and drags him over the barrier where he take his feet and props them up in a classic Tree of woe. Mock shining up the dented steel chair with his wrist, he closes it shut and places it on Ace's face.

The crowd is hushed with anticipation as Villam balances himself on the barrier...

He stretches out his arms...

And backflips.

Off of the barrier.

Lands on his feet?

No.

With complete 360 degrees of rotation Villam buries the chair into Carter's face with a pumping double kick.

Yet another "holy shit" chant.

Villam gets to his feet and grabbing his lower back in pain as the crowd around him cheers him on. Villam walks up to a collapsed Ace Carter and tosses him over the barrier. Following him over, Villam pulls Ace to his feet and sends him crashing into the steel steps.

Picking up those very same steps Villam raises them above his head and sending them crashing down onto Ace Carter's spine.

Villam lifted the steps again for a second dose...

...andNoahHawkinsdivesheadfirstintoVillamfromtheAsylum.
What?

Noah Hawkins dives head first into Villam from the Asylum.

The effects of such an attack result in a steel step sandwich with Noah and Villam as the bread. Noah's suicidal attack was just the ringing of the door bell.

Because another uninvited guest made his way through the belligerent crowd and jumped over the barrier with a lead pipe firmly in hand. Noah removed the steps and pulled Villam up, interlocking the eunuch's hand's behind him which left Mr. Ender susceptible to the mercy of...

Jeff Garvin.

With lead pipe swinging action.

Jeff tapped the pipe with foot...and...SWING!

The pipe was sent into Villam's jaw with a crack!

Using that momentum Noah executed a perfect Tiger Suplex! Villam was reduced to nothing more than a crumpled heap on the arena floor.

Jeff raised the pipe to the sky.

*grab*

Ah, yes...the sound of "grab".

*kick*

And the familiar sound of "kick".

Jeff fell against the barrier holding his jaw, becoming a victim of a deadly sidekick courtesy of...

Devoid.

The crowd erupted into one huge harmonious cheer.

Throwing the pipe into the cage he then went to Jeff Garvin and tossed him over the barrier into a mob of over zealous front row fans where poor Garvin was now getting his teeth kicked in by teenagers. Noah got off of Villam charged Devoid. A quick kick slammed into Noah's jaw follow by a barrage of fists sending Noah into sleepy Ville.

Devoid then helped Villam to his feet...

SMACK!

Ace Carter + Pissed off + Steelchair = Not Good.

Devoid turned around to meet the now rejuvenated Ace only to receive yet another chair to the face.

SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!

With all interference completely out of the picture, it was an old fashioned stand off between Ace and Villam. The two men who started this match...would finish it. Ace raised the chair above his head and stalked in Villam's direct which caused Villam to retreat to the cage...the cage which hasn't a foot step in since this match began. Ace followed up the steps and banged the chair again the rim several times harking Villam's certain defeat.

Ace charged and Villam charged....

SPEAR!!

Ace unexpectedly sent to the canvas, dropping the steelchair.

Villam sprung to his feet and chambered a fist....

Ace slowly got up and stumbled straight into...

One Winged, Angel Kiss.

Villam rocketed off of the mat and fired an uppercut right into the chin of Ace Carter which sent him tumbling backwards and out of the ring.

Ref counted to ten. It was over.

Villam and Devoid quickly exited to the cheering of the Asylum before Stranglehold sent more minions down to complete the failed mission.

That's when he saw them, coming right for him. Probably unaware that the three of them were on a collision course.

"GUYS!" egg NOG shouted to the members of Pain and Suffering as he threw his arms up in joy. "How goes things?!"

Drake and Clayton looked at each other and then to egg NOG. "Fine, I suppose." Clayton grumbled as he looked over egg NOG. "Where you're significant other today?" he asked with a smirk.

egg NOG smiled, probably unaware of the meaning of 'significant other'. "Oh you know, here, there and everywhere in between."

"That's great to hear," Drake replied sarcastically, "now if you'll move out of our way, we'll carry on with our business."

Pain and Suffering started to step around egg NOG, but he stepped in front of them, smiling innocently and rubbing his bottom lip.

"Actually, guys..." he started, "I just wanted to take this chance to say 'I'm sorry' for everything cHEESE and I have done to you the past few weeks. And I was hoping that bygones could be bygones.

Sooooo I'm sorry."

egg NOG extended his hand as Clayton and Drake looked surprised. Before they could shake, egg NOG drew back and cupped his mouth.

He shouted, "DEATH FROM ABOVE!!!" at the top of his lunges.

cHEESE came flying off the boxes next to them, landing on the back of Drake and locked in a sleeper.

"AAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE~!"

cHEESE jerked at Drake as he tried to force him to pass out. Drake just looked angered as he wrapped his arm around cHEESE's head.

"EEEEPPP!"

And then flipped him onto the cold, unforgiving floor. cHEESE laid on the floor, holding his back in pain as egg NOG stood his shock. He tried charging at Clayton, but a quick right cross had him flying into the boxes and landing in a heap on the floor next to cHEESE.

Drake and Clayton stepped over the fallen Legion of Dairy members and continued down the hall.

cHEESE rolled towards egg NOG, moaning in pain. "Now what?" cHEESE asked his partner.

egg NOG grunted as he unfolded himself, "the bitch earns his pay."

LLB Vs Ricky Wasp

“The Shawshank Redemption”.

And it was true, though, that Ricky Wasp didn’t get the “right” testify. The Stranglehold was to blame for that. They had come down to the cage... and cut him open with a knife.

Wasp entered the Asylum, as the Fans all stood, knowing what was going to come next...

and loving every minute of it.

“Still Waiting” Sum 41.

LLB.

The lawyer walked out to a massive pop. Fresh off his quick little workout to properly circulate the blood in his body, ‘The Law & Order’ was ready to enter the cage and prove Ricky Wasp’s rightful verdict, unlike the last.

That: of guilty.

LLB walked down the ramp, getting himself through the door as Wasp went after him. LLB sidestepped it though, as Ricky drove himself into the side of the mesh.

The bell went.

The boots began.

Stomp... stomp... STOMP... LLB walloped Wasp’s body on the mat with his small, yet talented size 9 boot. He walked into the side of the mesh, before using it to snap his body off of and catch a getting up opponent with a clothesline. It didn’t knock Wasp down, however; it only got him mad.

He then hit LLB with a clothesline of his own.

Except this one was a clothesline from hell.

LLB didn’t care. Clothesline from hell... clothesline... it all was the same. It hurt just as much, and as he’d like to sometimes say, he didn’t even care. Springing to his feet, the lawyer yelled at Wasp to come get some more.

The ‘Jury’ cheered, too, as Wasp ran towards LLB, but again the tricky lawyer sidestepped it, sending Wasp right into the mesh.

LLB Russian leg swept Wasp down.

“LLB! LLB! LLB!”

‘The Law’ smiled, before waiting for it. He felt the time was now, even though it was early on into the Match. He could feel it, sense it... and smell it. The verdict of Ricky Wasp... for it was calling his name.

Wasp rose.

‘Erroneous Conclusion’.

“LLB! LLB! LLB!”

The cheers though... for they soon stopped. They stopped hard and fast... as if something, someone had killed them.

And someone had.

Providence.

Providence nailed the Referee with his Championship Title Belt first, before ducking down to explode off his feet, surprising LLB with the TV Title to the head.

LLB fell, as Providence just smirked, taking his guilty body out of LLB’s Courtroom at that time... walking it up the ramp. The Fans still stood, booing. Some of them even tried to throw their trash at Providence, but no one had an aim that was going to catch him.

Slowly, but surely... Ricky Wasp rose.

And to the dislike of everyone else, the Referee, too.

He started to count, as weak as he was.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

Nine.

Ten.

There’d be no more shooting to his feet like Owen Hart on this night... because thanks to Providence, ‘The Law & Order’ was down.

It didn’t seem like he was going to get back up either.

“fuUK?

*Eruption of cheers*

“Help!”

“fuUK?”

“HELP!”

”Oh…” Ty Hughes shook his head understandingly. “fuUK?”

“They’re chasing me!” Avo screamed like a little girl. He heard the footsteps coming louder and ran. Hughes scratched his bald head and turned the corner towards his locker room -
However he ran into Biggs and Ross.

“Ladies,” Ty said with a slight nod. He tried to pass but both men grab a side of the Hypnotic One’s shirt and slam him towards the wall. Hughes sucked it in, he wasn’t stupid. He’d get his ass beat if he tried anything. “Okay, what’s with the black on black violence?”

“Shut up!” Biggs said angrily.

“That’s my line.”

Ross choked him. Hughes smirked under the pressure.

“In 21w, I destroyed your wrestling career. I made you an outcast. I destroyed your dreams,” sneered Biggs.

“Yeah! He’s the dream crushing, career killing, outcast making big man!” Ross said quickly after.

“I also beat you in Titania, humiliated you in front of thousands who booed you. Unlike here where they love you. Doesn’t that mean I’m a hated heel here? I’m the monster right?”

“Yeah! He’s the Hypnotic beating, humiliator-making, hated heel monster!” Ross repeated in the same tone.

“I -“

Hughes had enough, he slapped Ross’ hand away and got in Biggs face. “Alright, what the fuck do you want?”

“I got attacked a couple weeks back.”

“Your point?”

“I’m finding out who it was,” Biggs stepped face to face.

“Yeah,” Ross said more seriously. He stands beside Biggs and they both stare at Hughes.

A HUGE POP. Then a large boo.

CRACK!

CRACK!

Ty Hughes elbowed both men, ramming Biggs into the wall, however, Ruben pulls him back and locks him up allowing Biggs to throw solid punches that echoed in the hallway. Hughes fell to the ground when Ruben dropped him and Biggs lifted him back up onto his shoulder and both men drilled Hughes through a door, leaving him lifeless on the ground.

After a dramatic moment, Hughes coughs. “I don’t think it was him,” Biggs said breathing deeply.

“How come?”

“He’s too fucking stupid to try anything with me.”

Of course, Universal didn't. In fact he was a very busy man that had things to plan for the forth-coming ManHunt pay-per-view. All things given, this didn't stop Lonnie, though, he chased Universal down the hall, his hand raised as he continued to call out for Universal.

Chris marched on as Lonnie ran past him and stopped him by throwing his hands up.

"Larry!" Universal shot out, trying to sound surprised, "I didn't hear you!"

"It's Luh-llll-luh-Lonnie."

"Right, whatever," Universal cut in impatiently, "what do you want already?"

"cccc-cHHHH-cHEESE and egg NNN-NNNN-the LoD want another sss-sss-shot at the tuh-tuh-titles."

"The Legion of Dairy, eh?" Universal said, rubbing his goatee, "now correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't they the same two men that decided to skip my mandatory roster meeting two weeks ago so they could steal those same belts they so desire?"

"Ruh-rrr-right."

"And then just last week, they told me to 'get in line' when they decided to parody a certain 'wrestling superstar'?"

Lonnie nodded.

Universal moved Lonnie out of his way and started down the hall.

"Denied, Mr. Clark."

Lonnie looked stunned as he watched Universal continue down the hall. Needing to act fast, Lonnie blurted out an expected "wwww-wuh-why?!"

Universal sighed as he turned back towards Lonnie, knowing best to deal with him now rather than have him pester him later.

"It's all about respect, Mr. Clark. Respect for me and respect for my business, and those two buffoons have yet to show me the slightest bit of respect for either."

Universal stopped as he looked to get an idea of sorts. "Actually, Mr. Clark, tell them they can have their title match. However, it will be when I say and under conditions of my choosing. It might be this week, it might be next month, but I'll decide when."

Lonnie gulped as he nodded. Universal turned and walked away, as he did, he added:
"Oh, Mr. Clark, consider yourself fired as you remind me of the "era of Campbell," which I wish to stay far, far away from.

And the fact that you depress me a great deal."

Lonnie looked visibly distraught as Universal walked away. Today, he would inform cHEESE and egg NOG of their good news, tomorrow? He would find a new job.

And it was time to celebrate, too. As Providence walked himself over to his gym bag, he took out a needle to the boos of the Crowd, even though they could sense that was coming anyway.

Sticking the needle into his arm, Providence sat himself down on the bench across the way, as he tilted his head back and smiled... feeling the brilliant rush that it always would give him.

“OBJECTION!”

Providence slowly turned his head, releasing the needle out of his arm. He looked up to see LLB there, whom used the side of the door to uphold his body in a standup position. The lawyer took a look at Providence, cringed, and turned away for a short second, until the veins in Providence’s body resurfaced under his skin.

He then looked back.

Providence said nothing.

“You think you got me... didn’t you?” LLB rubbed his head, as he pointed with the other in the direction of the cage. “That was cute Prov, real cute.”

He paused, looking over Providence again.

Seeing the TV Title resting on the rack right beside him, LLB pressed his lips together.

“You know that Title shot I wanted...” He finally looked at the current Champion once more.

“Well I want it at ManHunt.”

Pushing the Title off of the rack, as the Title plates clung together before falling in a heap on the ground, LLB stormed out of sight as the scene went back to Providence.

Who looked at his needle, and threw it in the garbage.

"Y'know, I don't really trust your detective work right now. So far, the closest guy you could've had the correct profile for was Steve Christ. Since then, you've attacked a janitor and a freakin' jobber. Let’s not even mention the guy who can’t even say fuck right." Ruben turned and checked his facial hair in the mirror. No blood on his face.

"What's it to you?" Biggs asked. "You're just helping me catch this guy. Watson to my Sherlock."

"Didn't Watson solve more of the cases?" Ruben asked right back.

Biggs shook his head. "... Whatever. I've got one other idea. And I know exactly how to get it out of him."

"Who?" Ruben wondered aloud.

"You'll see."

Biggs put his boot on, tied the laces, and walked out of the bathroom. Leaving Ruben alone.

Chris Universal pleaded with the unimpressed man in front of him. Exxa Decimal wasn't phased by just beggings. A Challenge was laid out and he would accept it. Exxa remained silent though. Never let it be said that he never heard anyone through.

"Listen to me. He just doesn't want someone as...as...skilled as you are to face him at Manhunt. He's playing mind games and that is not the name of the PPV! Mind Games was months ago. The name of the PPV is Manhunt...meaning to hunt man. Inmate knows how strong you are. He knows you're my champion.

If he knocks you out, he feels that he can easily handle any of the other Stranglehold members...it's plain as day Exxa don't you see that? I mean Ace called Joe's Rapist out already tonight can't you just take solace in that? Villam will be too injured to keep you out of the Manhunt match."

"Fear?" Exxa stated out of the blue.

"What?"

"Christopher. What did we discuss about fear? Fear is not an emotion that should held in our hearts during this time. Fear should be as foreign to us as defeat."

Chris was quick to break in; "Yeah, I know but-"

"No." Exxa said, putting up a single conversation freezing hand. "You will have faith in lord christ and you will not show any resemblance of fear to sin. I will accept Mr. Burton's challenge and I will carry out the task of removing the belt from him. Amen."

Exxa exited without another word and all Stranglehold members sat there silently. No one would question Exxa Decimal. Chris kept them in the game, but Exxa created the game. He was their leader.

And "Amen" amoungst other things meant "End of discussion".

And "Amen" is what they all said in belated reply.

Lotus (c) Vs Dawn Van Dammage
(Womens Title)

The crowd was cheering, but the cheers weren’t what they were before. When she had her beauty and her breasts, Dawn always drew some of the loudest reactions. "Bullets" by Creed continued rolling as she walked up the deck steps and pushed past the curtains. Dawn walked straight down the aisle to the cage. She bounced lightly inside the cage as her music faded out.

"Triumph" by Wutang took over the speakers. Lotus pushed past the curtains with the Women’s Championship around her waist. No longer was there anxiety written on her face. Time had passed and the Asylum had become a home to the once quiet Chinese girl. She walked down the aisle and took off her belt, holding it up high to a loud chorus of boos. She came up the steps and entered the cage. Pushing the title into the referee’s chest, Lotus stepped forward and came face-to-face with Dawn Van Dammage.

Lotus held her hand out to the timekeeper. "Hold the bell."

She stepped away and grabbed a microphone. Dawn looked at the ref, who simply shrugged with the Women’s Title in his hands.

"Dawn Van Dammage," said Lotus. "There’s no doubt that you beat Nerva inside this cage last week. By all means, you deserve a title shot. But what you don’t realize is that you didn’t beat the real Nerva. Oh no. You see, the Nerva of today is not a reflection of the Nerva I and everybody else knows. The Nerva of today is a pathetic, half-assed attempt of a fighter." The crowd booed in disagreement. "So Dawn, don’t dare think that you’ve accomplished something. You haven’t truly fought Nerva… yet. Tonight you will. Tonight, I will show you who Nerva really is. Nolite te bastardes carborundorum."

Before Dawn could uncross her arms, Lotus flew through the air and connected with a tornado kick to the face. Dawn fell to the mat, allowing Lotus to jump on her and punch away with her fists. Dawn pushed Lotus off of her, but Lotus kipped back up and roundhouse kicked Dawn in the head as she got to one knee. This time Dawn fell down and stayed. The referee started a count, but Dawn got to her senses at five.

Continuing the pressure, Lotus tackled Dawn and backed her spine-first into the steel rim. Lotus showed no relent when she sunk three punches into Dawn’s stomach and finished the combination with an uppercut. Dawn fell back against the cage wall. Lotus followed her with a sliding sidekick, but Dawn was able to avoid it. Lotus ended up straddled on the cage rim, allowing Dawn to throw a heavy Thai roundhouse kick to the back of Lotus’s neck.

Lotus saved herself from ring-out defeat by falling into the cage. Dawn lifted her up by the hair and locked her into a full nelson. Lotus began struggling, kicking her legs into the air, but Dawn didn’t let that stop her from suplexing her backwards. After landing awkwardly on her neck, Lotus rolled towards the cage wall. She was hurt, and Dawn tasted the proverbial blood. Dawn closed in methodically, but at the last minute Lotus sprung to life and cracked Dawn in the jaw with a jumping back kick.
Now Dawn was in trouble.

Lotus attacked with rapid-fire roundhouse kicks to Dawn’s stomach, knocking out gasp after gasp of air. As Dawn doubled over, Lotus swung and struck her with a punch to the temple. Dawn fell to one knee, allowing Lotus to lift her leg up high and axe kick Dawn in the shoulder. The crowd groaned in sympathy as Dawn fell forward and smacked her face on the mat. It was the same shoulder that had been dislocated at Retribution.

The pain made Dawn cringe. She brought herself to both knees as the referee reached six.

Before the ref could count anymore, Lotus pushed him out of the way and planted a kick into Dawn’s ribs. With no remorse Lotus dropped a punch into Dawn’s shoulder. Dawn fought back with an elbow to Lotus’s gut and another one to Lotus’s face. She followed up with some thigh kicks, a jab, a cross, and then a hook. Lotus staggered back. As Dawn went for another punch, Lotus used her Wing Chun background to block and counter fist-attack with lightning speed and deadly accuracy.

Dawn kept swinging her punches, but Lotus kept counter striking. The science ended there. Lotus threw Dawn with the lift and drop. With Dawn on her back and legs spread open, a wide grin grew over Lotus’s face. She licked her lips and dropped down.

The Vaginal Claw was in full application.

There was no pleasure in Dawn’s scream as Lotus dug her nails deep into the sensitive area.

Lotus looked straight into Dawn’s eyes, seeing the pain and enjoying it. She felt like she was making a connection. She tightened her grip, causing Dawn to lift her hand ready to tap out.

But there was another way out. Dawn lifted both her legs up and clapped her feet against Lotus’s ears. The first one didn’t phase Lotus, but the next three made her let go.

Lotus rolled back up to her feet as Dawn got up holding her groin. Lotus smiled and ran forward.
Double Touch.

The crowd gasped in shock. No one in the Asylum other than Nerva could perfect that move. It was sacred. But now Lotus had done it with pinpoint accuracy, generating maximum power with both kicks. The impact knocked Dawn Van Dammage right out. She wasn’t seeing lights, wasn’t seeing anything. There was only blackness. Her head rolled to the side as blood dripped out of her mouth. The referee counted to ten.

The bell sounded. Lotus was awarded her title.

She picked Dawn up by the hair and slammed her head into the wall. She kept kicking at Dawn, despite heavy jeers from the crowd. Blood kept flying out of Dawn's mouth. Finally, help was on the way.

Nerva rushed down the aisle as the crowd grew to cheers. She leaped into the cage and stood in front of Dawn's helpless body, blocking Lotus's way. Before Lotus could think of what to do, Nerva shot in like a bullet and nailed her with the lift and drop. Lotus's arm ended up sprawled over her head from the impact. Nerva quickly tangled it into a figure-four arm bar.

Lotus screamed but showed no submissiveness. Nerva cranked on the pressure, looking to break Lotus's limb and keep her down for good. However, Lotus showed an amazing display of power, using her feet to knock Nerva off of her. Before Lotus could charge at Nerva, the referee stopped her and more piled into the cage.

With four officials on her, Lotus struggled and shook, knocking one of the officials in the face with her head. Nerva stayed behind the wall of officials before her and grabbed the microphone.

"Hey Lotus," said Nerva. "I know the last couple weeks wouldn't really warrant me a shot at your women's title, but I just kicked your ass. I think I deserve a shot now." The crowd roared to cheers. "I'm challenging you for a match at Manhunt. You think you're cool copying my fighting style? Let me give you a lesson next week Saturday. You'll learn that there's only one me and you're living in a fantasy world."

Lotus stopped struggling. Nerva handed the microphone to one of the officials, who ran it over and held it to Lotus's mouth.

"I'll see you at Manhunt," said Lotus, prompting a roar of cheers from the crowd. Nerva hopped out of the cage and headed up the aisle, keeping an eye on a sweaty and angry Lotus. She motioned around her waist to foreshadow her title victory, and Lotus shook her head in response.

Miles Blunder, the "Germ Gestapo"? What the hell was this?

As Biggs and Ruben brought Miles to the Asylum, the crowd's jeers subsided as they began to wonder... what was going on? What was going to happen to Miles Blunder?

The two Strangeholders tossed Blunder into the Asylum, and followed him in. Ruben grabbed Miles by his arms and held him back and down, where he couldn't escape, could barely move.

Biggs motioned for a mic. Somebody tossed him one.

"Two weeks ago, some fuck attacked me."

The crowd cheered. Retaliations were always perceived as a good thing when it was to an enemy of the Asylum.

"Two weeks ago, that fuck took MY knife... and tried to run me through with it. I escaped without a scratch. Now, I've spent two weeks wondering who it could have been."

Biggs turned to Miles Blunder. "I think this guy's got the answer in his little 'Mr. Clean' head."

He took two steps forward, and one step back, balancing the space between his legs into a triangle. He held the microphone steady, and his eyes weren't anywhere but on Blunder's. "Now, Miles... tell me... who attacked me?"

Miles could feel the sweat rolling down his face under the hot lights. Dirty, evil sweat.

"I duh-duh-duh-duh-duh --"

*THUNK*

Biggs had whacked Miles with the microphone.

"ANSWER CORRECTLY, BITCH!"

"I re-a-a-a-a-a... ah, ah... I don't... know..."

*THUNK*

Again with the microphone, the sound echoing for seconds, like pain audibly existing moments upon moments longer.

*THUNK*

"JUST ANSWER!" Biggs was at a shrill screech now. "ANSWER!"

"The Shawshank Redemption".

To the low baratone sound of Thomas Newman's 1991 work, the Asylum crowd, for the first time since Immortals, erupted in a solid cheer.

The Great White Hope.

The One Man Klan.

Ricky Wasp.

Look at Ricky. Watch Ricky run. Run, Ricky, run.

Hop the Asylum wall, Ricky, hop.

And get entangled with Stranglehold!

Ross let go of Miles, Biggs dropped the microphone. In Ruben's head, all he could think was that Biggs was so stupid to have eliminated this racist freak as a suspect...

And then, how it was time to beat down the correct person.

Ross and Biggs drummed their fists on Ricky's head and body, pushing the near-seven-foot ghost-white man back. Ruben grabbed Wasp by the arm, heaved him forward, sending him into the mesh of the Asylum. Ricky cracked against it, his body tumbling down.

But he stood right back up.

And roared like a severely, honestly, scarily pissed-off lion.

Ross was out of the Asylum in about two seconds flat. He had his own problems. Not to mention, if they had gone after Biggs's original suspect, this guy, at the very beginning... they could have gotten the drop on him. He didn't care in dealing with a guy that would just as soon drag him behind a flatbed truck and toss fire on him face-to-face.

This was a problem for Biggs.

And Biggs alone.

Maybe he'd help, in a later time. Not right now.

Instead, Biggs could deal with this on his own. He looked over at Ruben and knew exactly then that he’d left him alone. He focused his eyes back on Ricky Wasp, a cheer from the crowd.

A cheer for a racists?

Only in the fucking Asylum.

Wasp ran at Biggs and tried a football tackle, however, Biggs stumbles back with Wasp’s arms around his knees. Biggs clenches both hands together and rams them into the back of Wasp repeatedly until Wasp loosened his grip...

Biggs lifts up Wasp’s head only to get a spit in the eyes and right hand, then a left, and another right stumbling back the equally sized wrestling hero. Wasp growled and kneed Biggs in the gut, locking him up and ramming him into the cage repeatedly.

Biggs coughed blood.

Boos as reinforcements came. Ruben a MANY others.

Ricky pulled Biggs baldhead against his stomach and yanked his forehead back, whispering into his ears. “Next Saturday, you’re going to be hunted like your inbred nigger slave ancestors.”

If Biggs had the power to get up, the chaos he would’ve released.

Oh Ricky, what have you gotten yourself into?

??Inmate Vs Exxa Decimal??

An expression of hate.

But it did them little good on this night.

A match for the Asylum title?

Stranglehold removing all wrestler's from the Manhunt match?

No.

It was all a farce.

Inmate, now lay face down on the canvas...crimson fluid flowing freely out of a jagged scar on the back of his neck.

Was it not only seconds ago that his music was playing and the crowd was on the their feet cheering for him...Tyler would've thought this was a daydream.

Exxa Decimal's music played...But the man with the cross mask didn't part the curtains and make his way to the ring...

No.

He cut straight through the crowd, an old crowbar in hand and undeterable malice in his holy heart. The roar from those in attendance was deafening. But, Inmate never took it as a warning...and before he could turn around...the impact fell like a meteor upon him. Everything under his eyelids was numb and the only thing those eyes could register was darkness.

Heat or shine was no longer present.

Above him was Exxa Decimal. Raising his weapon to the air and proclaiming an early victory. Villam and Devoid came to the rescue and cleared the ring...but all of this would not be in Tyler Burton's memory.

The only thing he would remember was the blackness.

Complete and utter absence of light.

And in it's place.

Hopelessness.