HSBC Arena, Buffalo, New York.
3rd February 2002.

Warning: The following show will likely offend you, please go away.

Opening...
Just another Sunday?

In many countries, tradition saw Sunday as the day of rest... with the Asylum, this way never the case, for Joe Campbell and his band of fighters, Sunday was the day of work.  And there was work to be done, Persecution had been and gone, with conclusions unexpected by all, The Masked man was revealed as Khmer, a newcomer to Asylum territory.

Nerva had defeated long time nemesis Koji Tamura in a brutal war, his future in the sport now, undoubtedly... dead.  Nerva however, saved the real shocker for last, attacking former friend Brittany in what seemed to be the forming of a partnership between Nerva, and Jessica Jenkins... this however, didn't stop Brittany from becoming a new Women's champion.

Sterling Silver had been robbed, his impressive T.V. title caliber display, coming to nothing following a concise attack from Hypnosis' enemy, Synn.  Inmate and Mike Bear went to war, and what could've been one of the most brutal matches in Asylum history, never drew conclusion.., the returning Rave Caprino making sure of that, only to be banned from the following show; by Joe Campbell.

Token Weed won the battle, but the war? Kodiak Vic Creed took two falls from the best of three match at Persecution, but Token got priorities right, retaining his U.K. title, things were far from over however, a blistering attack from Villam Ender, marring proceedings.

Dissident; Bear and Fear... were victorious against new found enemies Syndication, Bear & Fear however, had no knowledge of Joe Campbells latest ploy, hiring two "Superheroes" to rid the Asylum of evil.

The main event saw an even bigger shock, Angel Dalton... a man forced into the role of a champion, finally proved his worth, defeating Borst cleanly in the main event, and perhaps defeating the doubters with it.

Borst was, and still is... in hospital following the bout, and reportedly desperate for a rematch with Dalton, to prove his own worth.

All of this televised, and no-one to see the real significant actions of the night, Joe Campbell using everything in his power, to secure a none censorship deal with TNN.

When you can't silence the critics, you have a problem.

Sunday Show rolled on; perhaps the most shocking yet? 

Friends of 1?

Eddie Cheno wandered around the backstage of Asylum. It seems as if he was lost, still rather new to the aspect of the Asylum, and everything it entailed. So new, he must have forgotten of the last couple shows.

Standing in front of the locker room of Adam Nowell and Hans Krueger, Cheno pounded the door three times. He heard a voice from inside "It's open."

Cheno opened the door, as standing there was Adam Nowell, the most likely man behind who stated those two words. Especially considering the accent wasn't german, Cheno realized this, and let out a smile.

"What are you doing here?" Nowell asked in a demanding fashion, not really ready for any of Cheno's games. Not ready for anyone's games really.

"Well mang, Joe funken Campbell said yer my funken present, we're funken friends. I musta funked somedin' up mang. I want'd to make it up ta ya mang, help ya win da titles!"

Nowell just stared at Cheno, shaking his head. "We lost last sunday , no thanks to you friend." Nowell stressed the friend part in a sarcastic tone of course.

"I musta funken forgot mang. Too much shiznit." Cheno answered, trying to show that his heart was in the right place. "I'll funken make it up ta ya ta-night mang."

Nowell nodded his head in confusion, before Cheno left his locker room. He shook his head, and then looked up with a look of shock. "Friends?"

Loudmouth.
A pulsing rhythm emanates from the PA. Followed by screeching guitar noise. Bass line and the noises from the starling lead singer. The entire tempo rocks hard to fever pitch…

“I MUST’VE READ A THOUSAND FACES!!”

must have robbed them of their cause
sickened thirst, sickened thirst
keeps it together
soft white glow in the craniums
a bulls eye made sedated

BEWARE! BEWARE! BEWARE!

must have read a thousand faces
and all these voices won't give up
sickened thirst, sickened thirst
glues it together
a catatonic leisure
at 1000 miles per hour

BEWARE! BEWARE! BEWARE!

so who's in charge in here?
barking out loud so clear?
because I'd really like to meet him

so who's in charge in here?
In the rear view of this mirror
because I'd really like to meet him

uproar east, strike west!

Have you ever tasted skin?
sink your, sink your teeth into
Have ever…?

BEWARE! BEWARE! BEWARE!

“Arcarnsenal” by At the Drive In. Once the crowd spots Villam through the curtains the booing starts, the paper cup throwing. The hate. Not, that Villam fed off if it. He just smiled. Because it was all very typical. He stood under the Asylumtron and removed Almighty from the hook in his belt and raised it to sky as the jeering intensified. He took that as his cue to walk down to the cage. Once inside he was handed a microphone.

The crowd was silent.

The fans of the Asylum who knew this man as Xearo L’Vagrant, were wondering…what exactly would a mute want with a microphone? Villam smiled as his propped the sledgehammer up on one shoulder and brought the microphone to his mouth…the crowd waited…

“Hi.”

Booing. The smile slowly faded from his face, straightening the noticeable scar down his eye. Given to him by Steven Fury a few months prior. This was Xearo L’Vagrant. This was.

“Last night, and well…throughout the last oh-say two weeks. I’ve been posing as Kenny Rock. Surely, you’re wondering ‘Why?” - Why, didn’t I stop fucking around with that crack whore on 3rd street? Mama, said stay away from her. I’m not ready to handle my fucking crack baby children…No. ”Why, Villam? Why attack Carnage? Why attack Chris Credible? “Why Token Weed? Or KVC?” Hah! Like you don’t know. Each of those pussies were ex-wrestles trying to pull their wrestling bullshit here in the Asylum. In case you didn’t know…Fighters don’t like wrestlers. But, more importantly Joe doesn’t like wrestlers. And even MORE importantly…WRESTERS DO NOT BELONG IN THE ASYLUM. Joe warned those fuckers at Manhunt. And this is the first shot.”

And that was their cue to boo. Again. Villam slowly twisted his head left and then right…

“The fuck people? You know…there is something that I don’t get. Joe is the reason the Asylum came to be in the first place. How dare you boo him? He feeds you sick fucking people and does he get any respect? No. All you do is come out here with your AD signs and your Borst signs that you made with the melted crayons in your drawer where you keep the porn. Yeah, you come out here like you’re better than he is. Better than I am. Well, you know what?”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck each and everyone of you in the ass with a wire coat hanger.”

“You little fuckshits.”

“Yeah - don’t look at me like that. You people are just pissed that I “turned my back on the fans” whatever the fuck that means. You people weren’t cheering me. You were cheering Xearo. The tortured heroic mute who was the victim of an identity crisis. Xearo was an angle. A game I played with you assheads. Let me make you aware of something…

In the Asylum. Our lives are a series of sickening ups and down and violent twisting and turnings. And you people come here and pay to be here - just so you can live through us. Last night when I raised Almighty in order to bludgeon that BITCH Sarah Cried. It wasn’t me. It was you…living through me. When Borst faked his death and you stupid fuckers fell for it. It wasn’t Borst…It was you…living through Borst. Archangel. Rave Caprino. Inmate. The Death of Kenny Rock. When I went into his grave and unearthed Almighty. Beating the shit into Carnage, Credible, Token and KVC. Becoming Xearo.

It’s all YOU.”

The fan expressed their disagreement…with paper cups.

“But, I’m not here for all of you. Nor am I here to talk about what you made me do. I’m here to talk…about everyone else. Everyone who doesn’t respect us and what we do in this Cage. Because this is why I returned. I saw the fighters of the Asylum. Training harder. Working harder. Taking bigger “bumps”. And indulging your need for REAL LIFE Violence. REAL Blood. Not Red Corn starch and crimson food coloring. Shit, and you’d think that earn us some respect. But, No.

What do I see when I go that fucking propaganda machine http://news.ewflash.com ? Those crappy overpaid fuck twats in the fWo. Wow. “Zero” returned. Wow. “Ruben Ross is the first BLACK World Champion”

…well fuck all. Maybe we should just throw a parade for the very WWF-like storylines and the shitty wrestling. Yes, let’s all lotion up our hands and masturbate to their ugly ass female wrestlers TEMPEST. And Poison Ivy. With gripping angles such as: “3 nice guys verses the three bad guys” Gah, I liked that angle better when it was called: 3 WEEKS BEFORE SURVIVOR SERIES. Yeah, you know what?

FUCK YOU FWO!

I’m like…so…tired of hearing about how “great” you are. When everyone knows that
you fucking suck. You are the NSYNC of sport entertainment hands fucking down. You got money and that’s all you’ve got. Talent? No. I do not think ANYONE trained by Rey Mysterio-COCK SUCKER jr. Has even the most rudimentary concept of what TALENT is. Hmmm…Ruben Ross - CHAMPION. Just in time for Martin Luther King’s Day and Black HISTORY month. Come on, tell us the truth. All of you are in it for the money! It’s all about brainwashing those fat ass, cookie eating, feces covered hand sniffing mother fuckers sitting in front of their television sets day in and day out trying to escape their drab, dull passionless lives.

Congrats, fWo. You’ve found your fucking gold mine. Laugh and grow fat.

I hope you choke.

SURVIVE THIS!”

Middle finger. Obviously there were some fWo fans in the audience or at least people who respected them. Because Villam was still being booed quite heavily.

“And if there’s anything worse than fWo wrestling. It’s federations that try to emulate that stupid shit. Yes, I’m talking about you - JOLT. REALM. 21W. 3 of the most assbackwardest federations EVER. With crap angles like “Let Mafia guy take control of the company.” and “Let’s Bore people with nonsense”.

Great angles. Fucking great. Or fucking 21W with their “SUPER-SPOOKY” wrestling posters. Mike Powell: Can you please - PLEASE stop scanning the front of Goosebumps books and using them for your asstwated promotions? Thank you. I, thank you and most of all. R.L Stine thanks you.

Then there’s REALM who’s last show was sponsored by the letter “H” in the middle of fucking nowhere, USA. Unfortunately for them the shitty ratings and the crap “fan” turnouts aren’t angles. Boo-fucking-hoo. I don’t know who’s FUCKING STUPID idea it was to call their show “a dose of reality” but um…your wrestling is still as fake and hackney as the day the devil invented it. You ain’t foolin’ NOBODY. Not only that…you hired Rave Caprino. HAHA…everyone laugh at the funny joke.

…you stupid mother fuckers.”

Villam walked over to the edge of the mesh wiring and looked backstage, almost through the curtains….and continued…

“But, you know. It’s no wonder that every dickless fuck thinks they are better than us. As crap as each place is, they have people who are loyal to their game and will to protect what is theirs…

Unlike the Asylum roster of infidels. And you know it’s these infidels that you plebian fuckheads cheer night after night. No cheering for Joe or for Me or for Inmate…no…you cheer fat Stone Cold wanna be mother fuckers like Borst. The guy hates wrestling, yet every move on his list is some wrestling move. “Clothesline from Hell”? Oh, GOD…Calgon take me AWAY!! Instead of supporting Hans and Adam you support some fuck who look like a cross between Diesel and Steve Blackman and some fathead with a chicken tattooed on his chest. Not to mention his fat potato eating 180 POUND girlfriend. Yeah, wow…Dissident is so great.

Permission to beat your fucking heads in with Almighty and then slowly finger fuck your fat girlfriend in the parking lot: GRANTED.

And then there’s Nerva…ahahha…some bitch who was stupid and weak enough to get raped by a 4 foot tall Japanese man. Nerva, Jap-boy’s penis is so small - how do you know you were getting raped? Koji can’t even fight…what the fuck? He dresses like he was so close to playing Ryu in Street Fighter: The Movie. Nerva is too fucking dense to be in the Asylum. She should be in porn…not just any porn. Tijuana Donkey fucking porn! Then there’s our very own Asylum Champion…AD.”

Cheering.

“Haha, right. Listen, little buddy…JOE MADE YOU. You aren’t shit without him. You wouldn’t have become Asylum champion without him. You wouldn’t have gotten that third nipple removed with out him. You should be on your knees sucking Joe’s Dick! Man, if I didn’t have other more important things to do. I’d put a knife in you and take the belt myself.“

Booing.

“Listen, I don’t have all night…so here we go. This is a wake up call. If you are backstage and you care about the Asylum. You should stick by Joe. The man who writes your checks and insures that you get to participate in the violence you crave. Don’t listen to any others. Listen to ME. Wrestlers don’t make up the Asylum. The FIGHTERS do. We decide. Not ‘them’. Now, you can ignore what’s going around you, go ahead…but when the shit hit’s the fan it’s gonna be too late to run for the umbrellas.

That’s all. Good night”

"Smoke two Joints" by Sublime was played over the pa system, as the fans looked towards the entrance. Slowly, out from the back walked Eddie Cheno, carrying what looked to be a tall glass object in his hands. Slowly, he made his way into hell, normally called the Asylum Cage.

And he just looked at Villam, who seemed to have an impatient stare bleeding through Cheno's body. Villam brought the microphone to his face, staring now into the bloodshot eyes of Eddie Cheno.

"Hello, assholio? You interrupted me."

Cheno stared off into space, not realizing what he had gotten himself into. Villam slammed the microphone into Cheno's chest, as Eddie grabbed it with his free hand, or his left hand. He lifted it up to his mouth as well not, uttering out in a confused state of mind. "But mang, you were funken done! You funken said good night, I dink dat's a funken closin' statement mang."

Villam sighed, as the fans cheered on Cheno, going against Villam the best he could. Then again, it really was only annoying him, but that's better than something else. Villam snatched the microphone out of Cheno's grasp, as Cheno looked down at his empty hand in an expression of a childhood "that's mine."

"Right...Listen "Bradley" if you don't have a GOOD reason for being out here you can take your god damn hippie music and your fucky accent back to "Da LBC" or I'll put my foot so far up your ass the only thing you'll be smoking...are my god damn shoe laces..." Villam trailed off, still staring with a look of determination, anger...

Cheno stuttered for a moment, before grabbing the microphone. "You funken said somethin' about umbrella's mang? I funken need one..." Villam looked at Cheno in confusion, before laying back with a massive right hand that sent the drug addict flailing to the canvas. Villam then dropped down, overtop Cheno in a fashion ready to pummel him mercilessly, before lifting Cheno's hand, with the microphone, up to his face.

"Permission to kick your ass tonight: Granted."

Villam threw his hand back down to his chest, as he exited the Asylum cage to a chorus of boos.

Public Apology.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please calm down!" A voice cried, heads turning to see Joe Campbell rushing through the curtain, suddenly however, he jerked to a halt as though he'd realized something, and darted back through it.

"Halo" by Soil.

Lots of heavy guttering, screaming... and talk of being king of the world.

And with it, Joe reappeared with his microphone, striding down to the Asylum as seering boos from the crowd pelted him, shrugging them off, he clambered up into the Asylum, and waited for the restless crowd to be silent.

"Ladies and gentlemen... i'm out here now, because I have an apology to make, as you all just had to witness, Mr. Villam came out here and said some bad things, he said some bad things about a couple of Wrestling promotions, he said some bad things about some members of the Asylum roster, and he said some bad things, about you.

And I'm sorry.

I'm sorry that you DIM-WITTED fuckers had to hear it like that!" Joe said, the crowd exploding with sudden boos.

"You know, I wish Villam had regained his voice earlier... maybe that way i'd have been able to drum his, and my... sentiments into your thick fucking skulls, Villam is an honest man, he tells it as he sees it, he tells it how we see it, and its not going to stop, i've made sure of that." Joe said, a sinister grin creeping across his face.

"Thats right, following an extremely jovial conversation with one of the TNN execs, it would appear that the Asylum is no longer censored, but for the sake of being sure, lets run a quick test.

Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck~!" Joe cried, before falling to his knees and gasping for air.

"There we go." Joe began "I just said fuck one hundred times on national television, if you don't believe me... go check you're VCR at home, no wait... you people look a little poorer than average, make that... 'check your beetamax.' at home, its on there, fuckers." Joe said, an intense amount of boos filling the arena.

"Anyway, I usually come out and book a card, but pretty recently... its occurred to me that I don't even have to do that, chaos has its own way of manifesting, i'm sure it'll come up with something interesting." Joe said with a sly grin, tossing the mic to the ground, as "Halo" by Soil played again, Joe making his way up the aisle to the same mass of boos he had entered to.

Hans... The Philosopher?

The doors to the arena swung open, as a figure stepped through the doorway. He wore black khakis, with a black leather jacket. He walked into the arena, many technicians and public relations people ignoring him, knowing who he was.

Yet, they didn’t know what he had become.

No one would…except maybe Villam Ender.

He was no longer bound by the restrictions of man, to follow the law, to do what was ‘right’ or ‘just’, like all that ancient philosophic shit that he learned in school.

He was…

The Ubermensch.

Free from the rules, he felt Existential…

And a desire for Blood.

That…of Mike Bears… 

Rejuvenation.

“Conserve” by Big D and the Kids Table signals the entrance of Impetigo and Wonder Hanna. The two walk out to an arena of cheers and chants, hand in hand. Imp’ holds onto a microphone as he flashes a smile to the crowd. Impetigo allows Hanna to go up the ring steps first as he follows close behind. As the music fades away, and the crowd settles down he begins to speak.

“One week ago at Persecution, two cowards that have been hiding their faces for over a month, revealed them self to the world. And, to tell you the truth… I wasn’t very impressed.”

Impetigo pauses. Then starts up again.

“One man named Khmer. And the other… Super Hero. One man ran away from the Asylum like the pussy that he is. And one man is still here… to get his head smashed in!”

The crowd rallies behind Impetigo, as Imp’ and Hanna both flash smiles. Impetigo continues to speak.

“For one whole month Khmer controlled our fears, controlled our boundaries, he controlled our every day actions. He sure was tough behind the mask, wasn’t he Hanna?

But now that the mask has come off… he is nothing. A nobody. Just a friend of Callous that is trying to make it big, and get revenge for his friend. Well, we’re not afraid anymore! And I quote…. Khmer~! Get your fucking ass out here!”

The fans in attendance cheer in approval. Which quickly turns to boo’s… “Know Your Enemy” by Rage Against the Machine starts up over the PA System. And out walks:

Khmer. His purpose: Revenge for Callous. He stands outside of the cage, on the ground. Khmer, with microphone ready just stares.

“Why so far away Khmer?” Impetigo says.

Khmer begins, “Why don’t you shut the fuck-”

Before Khmer can finish his sentence, Impetigo hurdles the steel cage and connects with a huge splash. Impetigo jolts up to his feet, over the downed man, as the crowd erupts in glee. Hanna with microphone in hand, walks out of the cage, and says calmly.

“No Joseph… You shut the fuck up.”

Impetigo and Hanna leave the helpless man on the ground, as they walk backstage to a series of cheers of appreciation. Impetigo didn’t feel helpless or like the underdog anymore. Impetigo felt good. But in the back of his mind he knew this man was a friend of Callous, and he knew he was dangerous.

Tension.

Tyler Burton is seen walking through the hallways of the arena. They crowd sees him on the Asylum-tron, and well, they don’t exactly cheer.

He has his Extreme title, barb-wire and all, strapped around his waist. Pair that with his black "A is for Anarchy Asylum" t-shirt, and his orange prison-issue pants, and you could say he looks fairly intimidating.

Not compared to ArchAngel though. Who as Tyler turned a corner, he runs into.

"Well look who it is.", says Tyler. Not really sarcastically, but definitely not filled with sincerity.

ArchAngel says nothing. Just glares down at Tyler.

"It’s my old Team Title partner. Gee, why was it we lost those titles again?"

ArchAngel isn’t being entertained by this in the slightest.

"Oh right. Because you left the team…"

Stares of hatred.

Punches? Kicks? Weapons?

Not today. Tyler simply side stepped the monster and kept on walking.

"Soon enough Tyler. Soon enough."

Punches? Kicks? Weapons? Yes. As ArchAngel would say. Soon enough. 

Rematch?.

Fuckin' in the Bushes kicks off, and a battered, bruised and well and truley beaten Borst staggers ever so slowly down the aisle. The fans aren't really paying him any attention whatsoever. No boos, no cheers, nothing. Regardless, Borst gets on the mic as soon as he's in the ring.

"I... I want a rematch. I deserve one. I'm the best. Give me a rematch."

Silence.

No-one's listening.

"Give me a fucking rematch! A.D., you wimp. Give me a rematch! Campbell! Get out here, and sign the fucking match!"

Well one person is listening. Joe Campbell's voice echoes over the PA system as he steps out from behind the curtain. "Borst, you're in no fit state to fight mate. You're battered, bruised. Fucking hell, your face is almost completely blue. Besides, you don't deserve a rematch, you have to earn things around here. Not that you'd know anything about that."

Borst ain't happy. He paces around the ring for a few moments and suddenly stops. "Campbell... c'mon, I'll do anything, you've gotta give me a rematch against A.D. That fucker made me look stupid last week. Give me a fucking rematch Campbell, you know you want to."

"I'll tell you what..." says Joe. "I smell money. Lots and lots of money. I've got a proposition for you Borst."

The fans are a little bit interested now.

"You beat my hand picked opponent tonight, you can have a rematch next week. OK?" Joe says. Borst nods quickly and gives a thumbs up, so Joe tells everyone who Borst will face. "You haven't beaten this guy one on one, ever."

Big cheer. Big cheer.

"And you haven't crossed paths since your return... kind of strange, I would have thought this guy would be after your blood after your little revelation a couple of weeks ago."

Joe takes a step back so that he's as far away from the Asylum as possible. "Tonight Borst, you're going to go one on one with... INMATE!"

I'm Back.

"I'm back."

Joe Campbell looked up at Nayomi with impatience in his eyes and didn't bother to utter a word. Instead he looked behind Nayomi, where Lin stood, he looked up and down and smiled.

"Who's this?" Joe asked.

"A friend," Nayomi said. "I want a match tonight."

Joe grasped his hands together and leaned back. "Already? I mean you just dissapeared without telling me a word, then I hear from my secetary that you're in China? You're lucky I don't fire you!"

Nayomi smiled and leaned forward showing a little cleavage. Joe looked at her screwfaced and swollowed, "Comeon Joe. Can't we just get along? I mean I went all the way to China to learn how to fight better right? Just gimmie a chance here."

Joe looked at Nayomi and smiled. "I guess it's due time that you recieved your title shot, how about you vs Britanny tonight. Woman's title match."

"Perfect." Nayomi said, she stepped back and left the room as Lin followed behind smiling at Joe as he waved goodbye.

"Who was that?" Lin asked outside the office.

Nayomi rubbed her face in relief, "The devil."

The Movement.
 

“Unified” by Biohazard played over the speakers, and for the first time, fans booed upon hearing the song. Jessica Jenkins walked out first, followed by Nerva, who was looking a little different this night. Her red hair was tied back in a ponytail. She was wearing her normal fighting pants, and her tank top was hanging out of the side of them.

The cameraman in front of her zoomed in on her left breast, and up on the AsylumTron the fans saw a pair of lips burnt into her skin above her black demi-cup bra. She continued walking down the aisle with Jessica and stepped into the Asylum after her. She reached out of the cage for the microphone, and a ringside attendant was quick to hand it to her.

“Men,” she said into it.

Male fans in the crowd erupted into a huge frenzy of cheers for themselves. “Just what I thought you’d do,” she continued. “Let me get this off my chest when I say that I’m ashamed to breath the same air and co-exist on the same earth as you. I hate you all.” The fans continued booing.

“You guys have always made me sick. None of you ever took me seriously until I kicked the shit out of the Asylum’s top men. Remember what happened on my first night here? Did you forget, you short-term thinking idiots? I didn’t. I never will. You all laughed at me when I walked down that aisle!”

Fans who thought hard remembered that night and began laughing at her again. Nerva received various catcalls from men, telling her to bake a pie, take her bra off, or make out with Jessica.

Nerva ignored it all. “Despite your laughter, I fought. And I won. That was a time when nobody wanted to accept the fact that women belong in the Asylum. I overcame the barrier, and then all of you men thought it would be a convenient time to cheer me.

“Don’t ever cheer me again, for the love of me. Save your cheers, save your signs, save your custom-made t-shirts, save it all for someone who actually cares. I don’t get off on seeing that shit anymore. Fuck that shit. It’s not that I just don’t need it – I don’t want it either. I hate it. I hate you all. In fact, I wish you’d all go to hell so I wouldn’t have to talk to you like this.

“And as for you women, you’re just as guilty if you give in to these men. You cum-slurping whores. I hate you all too.” The jeers now grew to a climax, not only from the men but also from the straight women in the crowd. “This is why I’ve started something called The Movement. No woman has ever tried to overthrow the patriarchy that runs rampant here in the Asylum. No woman… except for me.

“From this night forward, all of you men are on notice. It started with Koji Tamura; I busted that fucker’s eye. And tonight, Hypnosis is next. Hypnosis, here’s the game plan for tonight: step one, I’m gonna beat you for that TV Title; step two, I’m gonna rip your penis off.”

She took a pause to let the fans air out their hatred, and then pulled Jessica close to her. “You’ll all see Jessica tear into a man as well – Sterling Silver, our pretty little movie star. But that’s for later on. Right now, I want to put a notice out to the women as well:

“Women of the Asylum, you’re either with us, or you’re against us.”

“Cold” by Static X.

The new Women’s Champion, Brittany, strode to the cage, entered, and took her belt off. Jessica stood defiantly, aching to get a piece of Brittany. However, Nerva stepped in front of Jessica and held a hand up toward Brittany. “Hey Brit, come on, cool down. We don’t want you against us; we want you with us. Come on, who the fuck is Mike Bear without you? Some chump eating cheerios and watching cartoons – that’s who he is without you. You don’t need him, but I think you need us. And we need you, too. ”

Brittany ripped the microphone out of Nerva’s hand. “Shut-up.” Cheers. Nerva tried opening her mouth again, but Brittany held a hand up. “I said, shut-up. I don’t care if you two have matches tonight because I expected you both to be prepared to face the consequences after splitting my head open at Persecution. One of you, two of you, it doesn’t matter. Title match, non-title match, it doesn’t matter. All I want is your blood on my hands.”

Nerva shook her head. Brittany shrugged, and brought the mic back up to her mouth. “Did I tell you I wasn’t accepting no as an answer?”

Brittany floored Nerva with a clothesline, lashed a kick to Jessica’s gut and then planted her with a DDT. Nerva got up, holding her hands up and pleading Brittany to calm down. She didn’t want to fight and was pulling all her punches. “Come on, Brit, you and The Movement were meant to be.”

Suddenly, Jessica came from behind, but Brittany turned around in time to deliver a swift big boot to knock her down. She turned to face Nerva and lashed out a big boot, but Nerva rolled under it, pulled Jessica up, and bailed the cage with her. The fans cheered at the beating Brittany gave the two women. Brittany picked up her Women’s Title, holding it up and pointing at it to bait Nerva and Jessica.

“Come on,” she said, “don’t either of you want this title back?”

Jessica made an attempt forward, but Nerva held her back and whispered something in her. Jessica nodded reluctantly and headed backstage with Nerva.

A Challenger.

“Independent Woman” by Destiny’s Child

Nayomi appeared from behind the curtain, grinning and clapping at Brittany, who was pacing uncontrollably in the cage. Nayomi pulled out a microphone from her pants. “Well done, Brittany. I must say – very well done. You cleaned those dykes out of this place. But, this of course leaves you without an opponent for tonight. I’m not doing anything tonight, and I think it’s about time I get a fair shot at the strap. Whaddya say?”

Brittany swung the title over her shoulder and looked fifteen feet down at Nayomi. “Fine. Just keep in mind that I’m not exactly in a competitive spirit tonight. The two little antelopes I was hunting got away. This is the wrong night for you to challenge me.”

Nayomi shrugged and headed backstage, satisfied that she finally got her title match.

Friends of 2?

Cheno wandered around backstage still. He must not have a locker room, because it's rather doubtful that Joe Campbell would pamper a wrestler, yet alone Eddie Cheno. Cheno didn't really have anywhere to go, except his friends place.

So he walked back to the same locker room as before, and knocked three times once again, while opening the door. Standing there was Hans Krueger, who looked up from the lacing of his boots.

Krueger tried to say something, but he was cut off by Cheno. "Listen mang, I know I funked up last week, but I got a funken match ta-night mang, and I'll funken make dat shiznit up ta ya mang.

"A match?" Krueger asked in a confused tone. He was just as confused as Nowell, maybe moreso, even through the thick german accent.

"Yah mang, Villam Ender or some shiznit. I'll funken show I'm part of da funken team mang."

Krueger was even more shocked. Cheno apart of the team? It couldn't be. But before he could even ask anything, Cheno was already gone, closing the locker room door behind him.

"He'll be dead soon anyway, ja?"

Jessica Jenkins Vs Sterling Silver

Sterling Silver laughed at whom the Asylum officials threw at him as his opponent: a woman nowhere near his size or ability. Jessica didn’t take this too kindly and slapped him in the face. The crowd responded with an “Ohhh!” in expectation that Silver would do something in return. And he did; he punched her right in the face. Silver wanted to end this quick so that he could go backstage and deal with more important matters. He kicked Jessica in the stomach, and DDT’d her to the mat.

“Count her down, ref,” he said. He leaned against the cage rim, noticing that his fingernails were getting a millimeter too long. Five seconds passed before Jessica rose to her feet and flew at the unaware Sterling Silver with a flying clothesline. It caught him right in the neck and caused him to choke. Jessica tried whipping him into the other side of the cage, but Silver reversed it and sent her back first into the unforgiving steel. Jessica staggered forward into Silver’s reverse elbow.

Silver brought her up and snap suplexed her. He leg dropped her on the ground and then trapped her into a sleeper, wrapping his right arm around her neck and pushing all his weight down on his other arm over her head. She was fading away, but managed to elbow him twice in the nuts. Silver let go of the sleeper hold, but then kicked Jessica right in the ribs. He was in clear dominance of the match and wanted everyone to know it. That, however, fueled Jessica’s fire of hatred.

She elbowed him in the nuts again and hit a jab-cross-uppercut combo to the same area. Silver’s eyes were stretched wide open and his face began to redden. How many hits could he take there and still hope to produce valuable sperm? He leaned against the cage and kicked Jessica in the gut out of desperation. He punched her with a left, and then with a right. Blood spurted out of her mouth both times. Although many of the people in the arena were against violence against women, they cheered Silver.

He grabbed Jessica by the front of her top to throw her out of the cage, but was distracted by the kiss burn on Jessica’s left breast. The second of his “examination” cost him, however, as Jessica kneed him in the groin then head butted him in the face. She grabbed him by the arm and threw him against the cage. When he staggered towards her holding his back, she lashed out a picturesque dropkick. Silver fell to the ground and gasped for air. Jessica stomped away at his fallen body, cursing at him and telling him to go to hell.

Silver held his knees together, his jewels tucked in between his legs so that Jessica wouldn’t get another shot at them. She continued to stomp him, threatening to castrate his testicles. He continued to take kick after kick and stomp after stomp from Jessica until he had enough. He rose to his feet absorbing kicks from Jessica, but then knife-edge chopped her across the breasts. He kicked her in the gut, set her between his legs, and flashed a full-tooth smile. He picked her up, hooked a leg, and dropped her down on her head.

The Tarnisher.

The ref had begun his count, but Silver knew it was academic. He started fixing up his hair, asking people ringside if they had a comb and mirror. Fortunately for him and his focus on the match, no one did. Silver’s complete attention was necessary when Nerva came stalking down the aisle. He looked at her in confusion, and then looked at Jessica and then realized what was going on. He was confident and knew Nerva would be no problem. But suddenly, a large figure appeared from behind the curtain and power-walked past Nerva and reached the cage before her.

Problem: Akha.

Silver grabbed his hair. He didn’t know what to do. The ref stopped his count at five as Akha entered the cage. Nerva stood on the steel steps and watched on. Akha pushed the referee aside, and the official couldn’t do anything, as the Asylum always stressed: anything goes. She kicked him in the leg. Down he went. She stayed right where she was as Silver got up and limped off the pain. She charged at him, but Silver ducked under a huge punch. However, he wasn’t so lucky when she turned around and back fisted him right between the eyes, and then round kicked him right in the neck.

Down he went again, rendered unconscious.

Akha wrapped both her hands around his neck and picked him up high in the air. Jessica got up and crawled behind Akha, crouching down. Nerva entered the cage and lifted a leg up; extending it out and pulling it back in as she sized Silver’s red and choking face up. She ran, stepped off of Jessica, and jumped in the air to nail Silver with her patented 720 Double Touch kicks. Silver fell to the floor past the state of unconsciousness. Jessica mounted onto the cage rim, and drew the exclamation point with a hang-time frogsplash.

Nerva grabbed the ref by his shirt, and didn’t let go until he finished the ten count. The three women – The Movement – stood over Silver’s body, fists raised high to the booing crowd. Nerva was looking around, whispering again and again: “Nolite te bastardes carborundorum.”

Plotting.

Hans and Adam sat in the two black leather chairs opposing Joe's desk in his office. On the couch, 'the Inmate' Tyler Burton lied back, and laughed as he heard what happened earlier in the show to Dissident at the hands of Syndication.

"Dissident is are such fuckheads. What do they expect us to do? Just let them take over the tag division, and then the singles division?" said Tyler rhetorically, as Hans bellowed a laugh.

"Ja, and then they needed to be saved by their bitch. Brittany, I think her name is." said Hans, smiling at Tyler.

"So, how long do you think your match next week will last, nah forget that, I know the answer. Will you get your shot at the Tag Titles again at the next Pay Per View?" asked Tyler.

But before Hans could answer, Joe stormed in.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUUUUUCCCCKKK!" screamed Joe, slamming his fist against the desk.

"Vat happened, mein herr?" asked Hans quizzically as Joe snapped back:

"I'LL TELL YOU WHAT FUCKING HAPPENED!" screamed Joe.

Adam added in:

"Calm down, chief."

"Yeah, calm the fuck down, Joe. We'll take care of any problems." said Tyler, smiling at Joe. Joe paused, smirked, and nodded.

"All right, I'll tell you. But close the fucking door, first." said Joe, as Tyler slammed the door on the cameraman, breaking the lens as the cameras showed up elsewhere.

Women's Title
Brittany(c) Vs Nayomi

Both woman stood up again, back in their original spots, circling each other again.

This time Nayomi ran up for a grapple and they locked up, more traditional style that Nayomi was use to be seen with. Britanny struggled and pushed Nayomi back against the asylum fence before Nayomi did a kick flip backwards, Britanny almost following out, holding onto the rim for dear life.

Nayomi backed up and smiled as she bounced back and forth. Britanny screamed in anger and threw a left punch, Nayomi ducked and was grabbed her arm but Britanny kneed Nayomi in the kidney then wrapped her neck for a neckbreaker.

Nayomi rolled onto her stomach and grabbed her neck in pain, she was rusty. Britanny jumped on top of her back and sat down as she pulled her neck back for a camel clutch.

Nayomi screamed in pain then used all her strength to push onto her back then started elbowing Britanny to her ribs. When she released the hold Nayomi turned around and threw a right hook across Britanny's face and grabbed her neck.

Both woman started fighting like...well...woman now, as they rolled across the mat choking eachother. That's when Lotus came out of the back, the fans cheered as they saw fresh meat. Some hooting and whistling.

"Calm down!" Lotus screamed and Nayomi looked up as she looked at her watching. Nayomi released the grip from her neck and threw another left hook which dazed Britanny, she rolled her onto her belly and held onto her belly, throwing her back for a german suplex. Nayomi then began stomping down Britanny as the fans cheered.

She picked up the tired Britanny and locked her up for a suplex but Britanny did a mid-flip in the air and landed on her feet behind Nayomi where she grabbed her legs from underneath her and stomped into her stomach then pulling her up by her hair and delievering a bulldog.

As Nayomi laid down on the ground, she went over to the side of the cage where Lotus was, Britanny inched in closer for what seemed to be the finisher, she locked up the Cobra Clutch Suplex but Nayomi flipped her head back and hit Britanny in the face, stumbling her back for a second.

Nayomi then jumped onto the Asylum rim and flipped backwards for the Westside Sunset. The backwards sommersault connected and both woman were on the ground now. Both gasping for air.

Nayomi got up first and smiled as she looked at Britanny laying down on the ground, the ref stopped counting at seven and Nayomi ran for a fly kick as Britanny stood but she ducked and Nayomi missed.

As Britanny jumped to her feet, Nayomi did a kickflip and both woman ran to eachother. Britanny flew up in the air for a flying clothesline but Nayomi rolled underneath her and both woman ran at eachother again, this time Nayomi did a spinning sidekick as Britanny came into range and connected.

Britanny fell back like a flatboard as the ref counted.

1.
2.
3.
4.
5. She started moving.
6.
7. Britanny used the Asylum as leverage and got to her feet. Nayomi came closer to throw a knee kick collapsing Brittany again and hooked her arm over her neck for suplex but Britanny sprung to life and used the Asylum as leverage to reverse and do a bulldog.

She jumped to her feet then grabbed Nayomi, locking her up for the Spirial Fracture. Nayomi laid on the ground unconscious after the suplex as the ref counted.

1.
2.
3.
4. She started to crawl towards the side so Britanny didn't any chances, she ran over and kicked Nayomi on the stomach to her back. Britanny began stomping away as Nayomi covered her face from the damage. That's when she went for the killer.

Britanny picked up Nayomi and set her up for the Chamber Suplex. As she applied the cobra clutch, Nayomi grabbed onto Britanny's hair and fell down for an ace crusher which shocked Britanny as she fell back. Nayomi jumped to her feet and applied the Panther Grip as the sharpshooter locked in.

Britanny screamed and tried to hold in but the pain was too much and she tapped out. The bell rung and Lotus hopped into the ring and screame in joy as Nayomi finally won the belt. She held it over her head in triumph as the arena cheered. Nayomi hopped on top of the asylum rim and stood balencing herself as she kissed the belt.

That's when Lotus fell forward, and didn't move. Nayomi looked behind her and saw her-

Jessica Jenkins.

Armed with a metal bat. Nayomi flipped over Jessica but the fatigue was too much, Jessica who was fresh quickly spun around and laid Nayomi out with the bat. She picked up the belt from Nayomi's hand and pointed at it, she kicked Nayomi in her stomach onto her bat and started swinging the bat violently 
across Nayomi's bat, one sickening thud after another.

It was only about six or seven times, but it felt like forever. Lotus stood up and watched in horror as Jenkins went crazy on Nayomi, she ran in to help but Jessica saw her. She swung the bat and Lotus ducked, then she did a move no one had ever seen before.

After Lotus dodged the kick, she used her left leg to sweepkick (clockwise) Jessica's legs from underneath her then used her right leg with lightning quick speed to do a straight roundhouse underneath Jessica's neck as she flipped over onto her stomach.

The crowd gasped as they saw the move. Lotus got out of her fighting stance and came to help her unconscious friend. That's when the EMT came out with Joe. Except Joe was smiling, his eyes wide as he saw Lotus in the center of the asylum looking down at Nayomi.

MISSION

Joe Campbell wasn't particularly happy that Dissident remained the tag champions.

Of course, Joe wasn't the kind of guy that wouldn't have a Plan B, but unfortunately for him, that particular Plan B numbered two and a half and stood right in front of him with two grins and a frown.

Mega Job: The Epic Tag Team, they were called.

Beef looked at Campbell with that big smile on his face.

"So, Joey Camel, whattya need us for this week?"

Campbell stood up and frowned at the three members of Mega Job: El Janito, Beef, and Steve. He really didn't like working with these three, but if they're half of what they claimed to be, they should get the job done.

"Don't call me that." Joe said. Beef just sort of nodded as if he had heard sage-like advice.

"You guys will face Dissident tonight. They're... evil, I guess." Campbell continued.

Beef's eyebrows go up at the sound of the word "evil". Janito's expression turns to shock. And Steve... well, Steve's expression never seems to change.

"Evil, you say? Well, have no fear, Campbell Soup! MEGA JOB IS ON THE... uh... job. ..Janito, we need to find a new way of saying we're on the job."

"On the hunt?" Janito offered in his high-pitched Latino voice.

"MISSION." Steve suggested in his booming voice.

Campbell was beginning to get annoyed at his newfound help, so he decides to cut in at this time. "Look, look, just go to the ring and Dissident will be there soon. Then you'll beat the crap out of those... uh, evildoers."

The members of Mega Job all look at each other before turning back to Campbell.

"Okay, Campbell Soup, we'll be taking the Nutcracker of Good and cracking the Nuts of Evil, then." Janito said.

And with a "woosh", Mega Job were gone.

Or at least, they had hoped, until they all ran into the wall right next to the door and fell over.

Campbell was beginning to wonder if these guys were even capable of doing what they say they can do.

T.V. Title
Hypnosis(c) Vs Nerva

Nerva gave up and sent the two to the back. “Don’t worry, girls, I can rip Hypnosis’s penis off all by myself.”

The two women headed back up the aisle, just as “Won’t Lie Down” (Kombat Mix) by Face to Face played over the speakers. Hypnosis walked out to a deafening reaction, the crowd cheering for the TV Champion. He had the belt strapped around his waist, its silver plates glimmering in the lights. Nerva smiled at the sight. He walked down the aisle, brushing past the monster Akha and Jessica Jenkins. He walked backwards on the rest of the way to the cage, making sure that neither Akha nor Jessica tried jumping him. He entered the cage and threw his belt to the ref.

Doing his job, the ref showed Nerva the TV Title, but instead of just admiring it, she snatched it from his hands and positioned it against her waist. “Hey, Hypnosis! Looks pretty good on me. Nice shine-job.” She shoved it back into the ref’s hands. He handed the belt to the timekeeper and then called for the bell.

Hypnosis circled around the cage. Nerva took her tank top that was hanging from her pants and slipped it on over her breasts. Hypnosis shot for her left leg and tried taking her down. She kept her right leg back and planted in the ground to avoid it. Thinking quickly, Hypnosis dropped Nerva with a fireman’s carry takeover. Nerva got up fast and shoved Hypnosis when he stood up. Hypnosis turned his head to the crowd, who were cheering for him to hit her.

He slapped her like a misbehaving housewife. Something inside Nerva set off and she lashed out a round kick to Hypnosis’s gut. He grabbed at his stomach and took another round kick to the kidney. When she went for a high one, Hypnosis trapped her in a leg, head, and arm grasp and suplexed her over his head. When she got up, he charged and floored her with a high knee, and then mounted on top of her with punches. She couldn’t defend herself, as both of Hypnosis’s knees were holding her arms down.

So she counteracted with bite to the thigh. Hypnosis kept punching at her face to get her to stop, but her grip was tight and stubborn. He could see his blood dripping out of his thigh. He stood up and tried to ‘shake’ Nerva off, but his leg was like a toy to this pit bull. The ref asked him if he wanted to tap, but he grunted and shook his head. He brought his fist up and aimed it right down at Nerva’s nose. The bad news was that he missed the punch; the good news was that Nerva let go of his leg and rolled away.

Nerva wiped her gloved hand across her mouth to soak up the blood. Hypnosis’s blood. The two circled each other again. This time, Nerva shot forward for Hypnosis’s right leg, but he brought it back and kneed her in the gut. Nerva doubled over, and Hypnosis clubbed an elbow into her back. He trapped her in a full nelson, and then slammed her face hard into the canvas. Nerva got up from it, but Hypnosis put her back down with a hard lariat. He leaned against the cage, waiting on her to get up again. When she did, he charged at her and struck her on the left breast with a Polish hammer.

Judging from the expression on Nerva’s face – mouth open and eyes wide – it was a nipple shot. She was on the ground tending to the hurting breast. The ref started his count on her. She didn’t want the TV Title to slip out of her sight; it would add power to The Movement. She got up at six. Hypnosis walked toward her with method in his step. He bear hugged her, but before he lifted her up for a belly-to-belly suplex, she kneed him in the groin. He let go of her. At this point, Nerva reached down his tights and applied her trademark submission.

The Testicular Claw.

Nerva didn’t quite have the sensual touch. She had a maniacal look on her face as she yanked harder and harder. Hypnosis punched her across the face, but her grip remained intact. He back fisted her across the face and head butted her repeatedly until she finally let go. He took a moment to tend to the pain in his lower extremities, but it was a moment too much as Nerva dropped an ax kick right on his cheekbone. A moment later, she jumped onto the cage rim and spun around with a tornado kick to the neck.

Hypnosis dropped to his knees and fell down from the shot. The count was on. He coughed and hacked his way to the cage wall at four, and climbed his way up at six. Nerva side kicked him in the jaw and held him against the cage with her foot. On the same leg, she pulled her pant leg down and grabbed a pair of nunchuks out of a black strap around her shin. She took two steps backwards and whacked Hypnosis across the face with them, before flipping them back under her arm. Hypnosis staggered towards her, and she held both pieces of her nunchucks and clotheslined him with the chain.

She then threw the weapon out of the cage and waited on Hypnosis to get up. Victory was near. She leapt in the air when he got to his feet and lashed out the Double Touch. Hypnosis saw it coming, however, and pulled his head back to avoid both of the spin kicks. Right after her feet touched the floor, Nerva found herself in a fireman’s carry. Hypnosis swung her around his shoulder and dropped her with the “Knocked the Fuck Out” Ace Crusher. The referee started his count…

And made his way to ten. He called for the bell and rewarded Hypnosis his TV Title, as “Won’t Lie Down” resurfaced over the speakers.

Don't piss her off.

Mike Westwood walked out from the back on orders from an official backstage and entered the ring with a microphone for an interview, just as Nerva was pulling herself up against the cage. She rubbed her neck in pain and took heavy breaths. Malone didn’t quite know what he was getting into.

“Well, Nerva, things didn’t go quite as you thought they would, but—”

Nerva grabbed the mic and shoved him to the ground. “No shit, Sherlock!” Westwood quickly scrambled back to the door and ran out of the cage before she really lost her temper.

“Yeah, I bet you’re all just SO glad that Hypnosis beat me, aren’t you?”

Cheers.

“Why am I not surprised? Why does it not surprise me that you men get off on seeing me get beat up by a man? I’ll tell you why: it’s because you’re all sick, perverted, freaks with out-of-control fetishes!”

Boos.

“This is the way it’s been since day one. You live to see me in pain, to see my eyes crunch shut as I get my ribs kicked in. It makes you oh-so horny. Do you know what I have to say to that?

“Fuck you all.”

The male fans were out of their seats, hissing out insults at Nerva from left and right. She twitched from side to side, hearing every one of them. There were some fighters who were used to the hatred and shrugged it off with ease.

Nerva wasn’t one of those fighters.

She didn’t react to hatred with calmness; she reacted with a burning temper. Her pupils flashed to the corners of her eyes and caught a fan doing an impression of Borst. He was waving his penis at her. He was wearing stonewashed jeans and a tattered and grayed-out t-shirt. To top it all off, he had an attractive blonde with him. And now, she was the one waving his penis at Nerva. That set her off completely.

“You! You, you son of a bitch!” screamed Nerva while pointing over the cage rim at the fan. “You think that’s funny! C’mon, you fucker, get in here and show me your little trick again. Come on!”

The fan only continued to wave his penis at her.

She was shaking. “Okay, okay, I understand. You’re a man and you’re too fucking lazy to get your ass in here. That’s all fine and well. I’ll come up there and kick the shit out of you.”

Nerva got out of the cage and climbed over the steel guardrail. She pushed any and every fan that got in her way. The fan quickly zipped up and stretched his arms out, inviting her to take a shot at him. He was still standing on his chair in the eighth row, with his girlfriend beside of him. Nerva pushed nearly all the fans out of the ringside section and cleared most of the chairs away. The fan – which turned out to be a man in his early 30’s – got off his chair and challenged Nerva, begged her to give him a fight. Nerva pulled her fist up…

And elbowed his girlfriend.

She grabbed the woman by her blonde locks, and smashed her nose into one of the chairs. The woman stumbled back into the man’s tattooed and muscular arms. Blood from her nose smeared on his dirty shirt. He looked up at Nerva. “You bitch! You fucking bitch! Come here!” He sat his girlfriend down and strode toward Nerva.

WHACK!

He punched her right across the face. Nerva responded with a punch of her own, and as fans tried grabbing her arms, she elbowed their faces in. The numbers became too much, however, as the fans – teenage boys, teenage girls, and mature women alike – brought Nerva to the ground and started stomping away at her. Jessica and Akha rushed down to ringside just as the mob tossed Nerva over the guardrail. Security guards held them back. Nerva jumped over the guards into the raging mosh pit, but soon was dumped over the guardrail again. She got up, and before she could get herself into any more trouble, Jessica and Akha held her back. As the two escorted Nerva backstage to calm her down, Nerva whispered softly into their ears:

“Nolite te bastardes carborundorum.”

Villam Ender Vs Eddie Cheno

“Arcarsenal” By At the Drive In Burst over the PA and of course charges in Villam Ender, a ball full of taut rage. Wasting no time…Villam rushes into the cage leaving Almighty propped up on the side of the wire mesh and stares face to face with the muddled drug addict…

“What now, Fuckface?” POW. A hard right cross that sent Cheno reeling. Villam didn’t stop there however. As he continued to send fist after fist flying into the face of Cheno. Cheno battled back with some rights and lefts of his own and the whole ordeal escalated into a trading of punches across the cage. Having enough…Villam laughs and blocks an oncoming right hook from Cheno.

Head butt. Knee to Solar plexus. And an elbow to the back of the neck that sent Cheno to the mat. Villam followed up with some army style stomps and some very sloppy landing punches into the drug addict’s spine. Fully “In the moment” so to speak…Villam spreads those sloppy punches around and quickly locks Cheno in an one-armed camel clutch-like maneuver. With Villam’s free hand he let loose a round of punches into Cheno’s temple. Cheno however, had other ideas as he tried to push himself up with Villam still on his back! The 6’4 233 pound Hasher amazingly lifts Villam up on piggy back. Villam however continues wailing away as Cheno pain stakingly brings Villam to the edge of the cage……..

Villam falls out!

No. Villam hangs on for dear life. As Cheno walks away figuring that he’s won. Figure again. Villam climbs back up onto the rim of cage and calls for Cheno…Cheno turns around…Huge flying jump kick from Villam! Cheno is knocked to the ground and Villam waits for him to get up…Villam charges in and connects with a hard roundhouse, followed by a side kick and a full-roundhouse…Cheno wavers towards the edge of the Asylum. Villam pulls him back and trapped in full anger he lets him have it with punches and kicks and elbows which results in Cheno being beaten into the side of the cage. Villam keeps on the pressure to booing from the “fans”…Villam stomps and stomps away at Cheno then shouts: “Fuck this shit” calling for a steel chair.

It took ten seconds for him to get that chair. Ten seconds that could’ve been used to end the match. Alas…It is Villam’s first match back and he felt he had to prove something….WHAM! Chairshot. WHAM! Chairshot. Villam pulls a swollen and beaten Cheno to his feet and BLAM! Blasts him in the back of the head with another chairshot. And Another. Another. Another. Fuck, Villam that’s enough. But, Cheno is still standing. Villam run over and picks up his beloved Almighty kissing it on the head…Cheno turns around…Villam throws the steel chair…Cheno catches….Villam swings….

…and smashes the steel chair into Cheno’s face with the unstoppable force of Almighty. Cheno just fell victim to Ender’s Game.

The ref counts knowing full well that Cheno isn’t getting up…

1...

Villam paces about the cage still furious that his first match back is with some pothead.

2...
3...

Not mention that the pothead dares to FIGHT BACK?

4...
5...
6...

Oh and that throw you out of the cage bullshit?

7...
8...

GAH.

9...

Villam picks up the steel chair and smacks the ref from behind with it. He then goes to right back to work on Eddie Cheno. WHAM! WHAM! Villam kicks Cheno over on his stomach and places the steel chair on the back of his head. He picks up Almighty…raising it to the sky to a hail of boos. And brings it down on the steel chair…

…continuously. Dancing on the corpses ashes.

“What.”

CRASH!

“The Fuck.”

CRASH!

“Made you THINK”

CRASH!

“You could BRING”

CRASH!

“Your FUCKTARDED”

CRASH!

“Paint Chip eating”

CRASH!

“Mother Fucking Ass”

CRASH!

“Down to the Ring”

CRASH!

“While”

CRASH!

“I was”

CR-…No.

At this point several officials had gotten a hold of Villam and stopped his anger driven rampage on Eddie Cheno. Villam ceased his attack but not before laying out some of the officials with Almighty. The crowd jeered him immensely…Villam placed Almighty in the hook on his belt and stalked off.

Team Titles
Dissident(c) Vs Mega Job

"Testify" by Rage Against The Machine hit.

The fans greeted the Asylum Tag Team Champions, Mike Bear and Fear, otherwise known as Dissident, with a large amount of cheers, as they made their way into the cage for tonight's match. The fans continued to cheer in admiration and respect for a team that has managed to triumph, thus far, over Joe Campbell's nefarious plots.

Then, the sounds of a familiar song ring out in the arena, one that's known throughout the world as "Weapon of Choice" by Fatboy Slim. It's actually called the "Pikachu Just Knocked You The Fuck Out remix", but there's no difference between that and the regular version, anyway.

And out comes the resident idiots in the Asylum, Mega Job.

The fans are unsure how to react to Mega Job, as the trio, made up of the actual fighters: El Janito and Beef, and their midget manager, Steve, made their way to the cage. The reaction is decidedly mixed, some of the fans remembering their antics in federations past, and some of the fans booing them because they're associated with Joe Campbell.

Beef entered the cage first, a decidedly goofy grin on his face as he asks for a microphone. The ring announcer shrugs and hands the microphone to Beef, who begins to talk into the microphone.

"Greetings to all of you! As you know doubt may know, we, Mega Job: The Epic Tag Team, have stumbled our way into the Asylum. I know most of you are asking, "what the hell are you doing here?", so I'll try to explain ourselves. We are here to stomp evil! EVIL! No, it's not a midnight snack, or whatever, we must pound evil into puddy and send it screaming into the night sky, whereupon it'll land in PRISON, WHERE IT BELONGS!"

The crowd isn't very sure how to react, while Mike Bear and Fear just watch on, rather confused.

"You see, evil... it's not especially very good. And it is our sworn duty as superheroes, kind of like those Galaxy Defender guys you had here a few months ago, to smash evil in the nuts and call it a day. We are here to make sure you all sleep better at night, knowing that evil-doers in the Asylum will be castrated by the forces of good, known only as Mega Job: The Epic Tag Team!" Beef continued. Meanwhile, Mike Bear had walked over to the acting offical of the match and whispered something in his ear. El Janito takes the microphone and decides to add something.

"Well, esse... Beef has a point. I mean, you try sleeping at night, knowing that evil is at large! It's all so... FRUSTRATING! It's my leading cause of insomnia and stuff!" Janito said, tears nearly in his eyes. Unbeknownst to Mega Job, Mike Bear was finally convincing the referee to do something.

"And thus... we, Mega Job, will now march on and defeat these evil-doers!" Janito said, blissfully unaware that the referee had signaled for the bell to ring.

"For whenever crime robs a bank, WE'LL BE TH-" Janito tried to say, but Fear nailed him with a big boot from behind that was just enough to send Janito sprawling out of the Asylum. Almost as soon as Fear connected with his boot did Mike Bear clothesline Beef from behind, then push his leg out, sending Beef over the Asylum and to the floor.

Offical match time?

Five seconds.

The crowd cheered heavilly as Mega Job recovered on the outside, not believing what just happened, as the referee raised Dissident's arms in the air. Beef was complaining about the result being unfair, but the referee was having none of it, ordering Mega Job to go to the back. Sulking, Beef and El Janito began to walk off, trailed by Steve the Rambling Communist.

Defeated.

Vengeance?

As Dissident exited the Asylum with their Asylum Tag Team Titles strapped to their waists, they never expected what would happen next.

In an instant, two steel chairs crashed onto the skulls of the Asylum Tag Team Champions as the cheers from the crowd instantanteously turned into boos.

Hans Krueger and Adam Nowell had arrived to the ringside area and attacked their heroes from behind.

"Hey, Bear, can you hear me?" said Hans through shut teeth, barely hearable. The fans in attendance booed, and Hans soaked it in.

"Good. Next Sunday Show, you, your moronic buddy against me and Adam. Non-Title match..." said Hans, soaking in the boos.

"BUT, if ve vin, ve get a shot at the next Pay Per View for the tag titles. Got it?" said Hans, laughing, as Bear tried to get up and grab him.

However, a quick chair shot to the back of the head took care of him.

"Good...see you next week, you sub-human FILTH!" said Hans, tossing the mic down, and quickly taking a sample of Bear's blood, and wiping it on his face in a war paint type method.

Suddenly, Brittany ran down the rampway, and Hans and Adam quickly climbed the guardrail to the crowd as Brittany checked up on her husband and best friend... 

Two minutes!?.

We come back from commercial with the camera still now entering the dressing room we just saw with Kruger, Nowell, Burton, and the Asylums owner, Joe Campbell. The camera shows a now smiling, seemingly happy Campbell standing proud. At what? were not sure…

"This is going to be great. Just fucking great!" Joe Campbell picks up his note pad and prepares to leave the room.

"Wait Campbell…" says Tyler as he puts his hand on Joe’s chest and stops him from leaving. "Let me have a few minutes before hand. I know this is huge, and I wanna be ready for it all to fall into place."

"Tyler, you’ve got two minutes. Were running out of time, and I wanna show that bastard Borst what he’s got coming to him!" Joe seems a little impatient, but still happy.

"Alright, two minutes… that’s all I need. I’ll see you in ring."

In the ring… what the?

Borst Vs Inmate