The ones who never saw death coming.

He walked with a purpose... hanging a sharp left at the hallway’s corner before coming upon a door. He looked up to knock... but it took a long minute before he did.

The camera panned up, seeing the plate positioned just a little off-right from the center.

“Joe Campbell”.

The Fans booed, and that’s when the man finally opened it up, and stuck his head in.

“Hey.”

That was all it took, as he brought his head back out of the room and slowly closed the door again, while Joe’s voice could be heard from the inside, swearing and cursing loudly with a hint of “Where the HELL were you!?”.

The man kept walking straight down the hall... as he finally turned back to lift up his head... and smirk.

LLB.

The ‘Jury’ cheered.

He snapped back around... as Asylum’s Courtroom was officially back in business, ready to get their verdict.

And as the scene came to a close, the Fans chanted what that indeed was.

“GUILTY! GUILTY! GUILTY!”

Joe Campbell sat quietly at his desk, asking himself that very question. He was doing paper work.

Paper work?

Well if you call, looking over the gate and merchandise take from the PPV, paper work, then that’s what he was doing. You see he was hoping that he’d made enough money to make up for the 5.6 million he now knows he lost on Ruben Ross.

"Fucking Coward Bastard! Joining Stranglehold! I'll rip his cotton picking face off."
Joe, in saying that, realized something. His 5.6 million dollar investment may just have funded this entire Stranglehold problem.

With that he took another drink.

Ah… Liquor. The path to ignorance.

Beep beep.

His cell. Where was it? He shuffled papers, and tossed things off his desk. Then as it rang a second, third, and fourth time, he remembered it was in his front shirt pocket.

“Yeah? Who’s this?” Joe slurred.

“It’s Burton.”

“Burton where the fuck are you? Get your ass to the arena now! We’ve got things to deal with and you aren’t even fucking here yet!” Joe scoffed in reply.

“I’m at the arena Joe. Calm down. I’m just looking for Villiam. Have you seen him?” Burton questioned.

“Villiam? Why the fuck you worried about Villiam?! He’s probably passed out somewhere.... and I will be soon too. Just get to my fucking office so we can talk about getting this Stranglehold dealt with! Tonight they make their demands.”

A slight pause.

“Yeah I know, I’ve just gotta find Villiam first, then we can deal with Stranglehold.”

“WHAT!? FUCK VILLAM! You get your fucking ass in here Tyler. We deal with Stranglehold now, before they suck me for even more money. Got it!?” Joe roared back.

Click.

It was over.

The conversation ended and Joe was back to his drinking… err, paperwork.

She had been unprepared when he began to cry. She consoled him as best she could, and he eventually fell asleep on her lap the night before. When she had fallen asleep, she had the strangest dream. Yet it was more than that, it felt so real. She saw a man wearing a robe with a hood. His face was masked to her and could not be seen. Yet she heard his voice clearer than anything like it was her speaking the words.

It frightened her, and when she woke she found Darren gone. The television was left on, and she had a note from him on the blanket. She lay in the bed, under the covers alone, and she read the note quietly to herself:

“Roxy,

I had to go. I am scheduled to be at the show tonight and I have a match against someone. I think it is Blunder or something. I’m sorry I had to leave, please forgive me.

Darren.”

She smiled to herself, but inside she wasn’t so secure. She was afraid. Afraid that soon her life would change, and she would never know what it was to be normal again.

Ruben Ross

The man who bent the Asylum over it's knee and spanked the shit out of it like a redhead stepchild who stole 18 dollars from his trans-sexual father's purse. Ruben smiled to himself as he walked down with the rest of Stranglehold to the cage. Jeff snatched up a microphone and handed it to Ruben as they climbed up the steel steps and into the Asylum, their ears booming with the sound of disenfranchised fans.

With all 5 men standing there full of confidence...Ruben Ross winked to some kid in the crowd with a 'Fuck Ruben up the ass with a laser torch' T-shirt on. Rolling his eyes, he put the mic up to his lips and said:

"There you all are."

Boos.

"The lowest fucking common denominator, all indignant and appalled that I joined up with the elite force in professional wrestling today. Irate that I turned on my boss who'd signed me to the most lucrative deal in this craphole's history. What I'm hearing is jealousy at the fact that you mouth-breathers didn't get to live out the White American Dream.

My boss. My great boss. A murdering, philandering, drug-addled, alcoholic piece of shit who I used to get what I want. Thanks to his own incompetence, I never have to worry financially again. And with those worries out of the way, I'm allowed to enlighten you people about the art of wrestling.

You see, only a complete fuckhead like Joe Campbell is allowed to have a bunch of wrestlers that couldn't cut it elsewhere use wrestling maneuvers to harm their opponents. Joe's alleged "fighting" is nothing more than ECW on government crack."

Ouch and Damn.

Somewhere the heart of Joe Campbell's ego was imploding on itself...

"And ECW, no matter how bloodthirsty, was still wrestling at it's core. I look around at the curtain jerkers who are considered Asylum talent, and I wondered why the hell should I be known as a fighter for this place? So I can get ass raped?

Stabbed?

Shot at?

And by who?

The fucking champion of this place is Nailz version 2.0, and whichever one of us wins the poker game in the back afterwards gets to take the belt off him. Who should I be scared of? The ugly skanks with broken-down bodies? That guy who says he's the son of God? The racist? Marilyn Manson's brothers? Enrique Credibleno? PLEASE.

The fact is this place got to prominence by defeating 21wrestling and taking credit for the fWo having a summer vacation. You want to brag about how I lost my job? You want to take credit for me getting blamed for the fWo? You want to state how this alleged fighting is so much superior to wrestling? Well, you're about to find out the truth, Campbell.

Wrestling fucking hurts.

And us wrestlers are going to hurt you bad.

There's nothing worse in the industry--except maybe the Exxa Deathlock--than a Stranglehold. You and all these mindless psychopathic sheep passing themselves off as fans are going to come away with a newfound respect for wrestling after Jeff, Marauder, Biggs, Exxa and I get done with this place. We're going to wipe the Asylum off the damn mat and the freak shows you've got backstage sure as hell don't have the capabilities or the firepower to stop us.

Welcome to Bitchville, tA.

Population: all your sorry asses."

All men in the cage began to clap. Ruben promptly handed the microphone to Exxa Decimal.

Who shook hands with Ruben and looked ready to start up his own version of Ruben's victory speech.

"Right.

As all of you infidels know. Last night our organization defeated Joe Campbell's team of thugs yet again. What I personally can not seem to discern however, is why any one of you doubted us. Fighting on your "Team" was a sub-par martial artist from a dead federation, a rejected, over-paid and under-talented reject from independent wrestling and a drunk."
Exxa seemed to pause for second there. Almost as if he was laughing. "Yes, a drunk. A common everyday run of the mill man who had too much ale.

And the fourth member of said team? Well, some of you may call him a traitor. A turn coat. You label him with such words as 'Deceiver' and 'Con-Artist'. You see this man standing next to me as a 'lying fool'.

Negative.

Not the facts.

Not factual.

You...

...are fools."

Jeers followed that revelation, as the crowd looked ready to pour from their seats and contest that theory. The people here not only hated Exxa Decimal because what he was trying to do to the Asylum. But, they also hate him and that air of superiority he put off with every cold inflection of the words he spoke.

"I beseech you. How can a man betray something he had no allegiance to in the first place? You knew that Ruben was a wrestler. Joe certainly knew. This man was trained by Rey Mysterio. That training put food on his table and blankets over his bed sheets. This man is devoted to this business or did you fools not already know that? This man is the best wrestling has to offer. A former champion of one of the greatest federations in the world. the fWo.

And you thought he was a friend? A helping hand that was form into fist and beat down those Stranglehold dogs?"

Exxa solemnly shook his head. "I'd laugh if I didn't feel utterly sorry for you all. Misled. Lied to by Joe Campbell.

'It's just entertainment.'

No. It's your souls. That skull on the Asylum's logo doesn't represent a good days work. It doesn't represent reason or compassion or any of those favorable traits. It's evil. It's wrong. And everyday you sit here and soak yourselves in it you plunge further and further into oblivion. You De-Evolve. Anyone who's ever fought here, tried to fight here, seeking to make a living here or comes here to gain enjoyment from human suffering is criminal of the highest degree in the court of human society. You are ugliness in the eyes of God. You are an enemy of not only progression and human evolution.

But, you are an enemy of God's master plan that he has laid for us."

Exxa suddenly stopped mid-sentence. He nodded to Biggs and Jeff.

Biggs took a hard right to the face Marauder knocking him to the mat. Jeff began to stomp away what tender ribs of Marauder. The crowd leapt out of their seats not believing what they were seeing. Ruben left the cage and reached under the ring pulling out a rather nasty looking hammer. It was more of a weapon from the middle ages. A rather large and rather pointy club. As Ruben dragged it into the cage Exxa continued to speak...

"Which brings us my next order of business."

Biggs with huge arms grabbed both of Marauder's arms and held his back down to the canvas. Having exited the ring, Jeff returned with a steel chair and unfolded it. Lifting up Marauder's right leg, he fit it onto the seat of the chair. With Marauder's foot sticking out of the back, Jeff held it down so that his shin faced upwards. Ruben handed Exxa the club and began to kick the helpless Marauder about the midsection. Exxa lifted the heavy object onto his shoulders....

"Marauder.

You disgust me. You are perhaps the biggest fool of them all. After I explained to you what this organization was all about you laughed and told me: 'Just as long as I get to stick it to Campbell.' I told you what joining us would mean, the dedication...the ideals. I gave you a speech very similar to this one about everyone who's ever stepped foot into the Asylum or worked in the Asylum and nothing clicked? You didn't 'get it'?

I never wanted a stain like you to materialize itself in Stranglehold. But, you leapt at the chance to get at Campbell. Just like I knew you would. Sitting there in that locker room after your fight with Carnage. Rejected from the Asylum. Rejected. A reject of sin.

Therefore, in that moment...you were rejected by even the lowest of lowest in human society.

I wanted to crush you then and there.

But, no.

I figured that you could - for once in your pathetic life - be of use to someone.

You.

Are my example."

Dropping the microphone Exxa lifted the club into the air. All of his muscles tensed up. The club must've weighed around 50 lbs and with a barely audible grunt he sent the club slamming into Marauder's shin.

*CRUSH*

Crunch would have been an understatement. Marauder's scream pierced the ears of thousands of awe-struck fans. The chair was bent horribly and Marauder’s shin looked like a bloody cavity garnished with meat and bone.

Exxa lifted the club again...

But that second blow never came. Instead he placed the bloody object on the mat and picked up the microphone.

"You aren't even worth the second blow, you worm." Marauder could only reply with more screaming. "Don't be too sad. Let optimism be your solace. I was compassionate enough to leave you one good leg so that you may limp out of here like the wounded animal you are. I assure you, God's wrath will be worse than mine. I just took your leg.

Sin will take your soul."

But, those words were lost. Marauder stared up at the lights in shock. Exxa spat and then turned his back to him.

"Do you see!? DO YOU SEE HIS FATE? Repent now! Leave this arena and pray for God's forgiveness. Do it, and do it now lest one of you find yourself in Marauder's sorry state."

Rampant booing was the crowd's reply.

"So be it, sinners.

Campbell. Remove this trash from your ring. We will be out here at the end of the night...

...to make our demands."

"Climbatize" played over the P.A.

And Stranglehold left.

Joe Campbell slammed his fist down on his desk, which exploded in a shower of papers.

Gacy and Oswald stood silently before him.

"Leave no stone unturned boys... someone will fucking pay for this, pay with their life... suspect everyone, do whatever you need to... I want this fuckers heart in my fist so that they can watch me drive a fork through it."

Slowly... the two members of Fall of Adam turned to leave the room.

"Oh... and make sure you bring them to me alive... this is fucking personal." Joe uttered... as the two stopped in their tracks... before moving forward again.

"Oh..."

Gacy and Oswald stopped, again.

"And that doesn't mean alive and well... fuck them up gentlemen... do what you do best."

Gacy nodded, and together... Fall of Adam set out on their mission.

“You there. ID?” The large man asked.

“Sure.” Darren handed him his identification and papers, and the man read over them.

“Sorry. Can’t let you in.” The man handed him the documents, and proceeded to block the doorway.

“I work here, of course you can.” Darren said, annoyed with the large man’s attitude.

“Sorry buddy, but I have strict orders not to let you in.” The man said, as he crossed his arms.

His eyes focused solely on Darren, and Darren’s own eyes glared right back at him. “Listen buddy. Get your minimum wage earning ass out of my way.”

“Funny. How about, HELL NO.” The smile on the man’s face faded and he looked at Darren.
The man didn’t flinch as Darren took a swing, he merely caught his hand, and threw him to the ground. “Get the fuck out of here dirtbag.”

Darren stood up, and looked around. “DANIEL!” he screamed, “YOU CAN’T DO THIS FOREVER! IT ISN’T MY FAULT! YOU NEED ME!” Darren shook his fist in the air as he wailed wildly.

The guard threw his bag at him. “Get to walking hobo.” Darren looked at the guard, spit on him, and walked down the sidewalk. He hailed a cab, and asked to be returned to the hotel.

His brother had shunned him. His own brother had locked Darren out of his life. Thoughts raced through his brain as the cab lurched forward. Daniel didn’t know what he was missing. Daniel needed him.

It was clear though that Darren’s words were not true. That wasn’t the case at all. As Darren began to mumble out loud, “Daniel needs my help. HE NEEDS ME” the cabbie looked in his rearview mirror, and said softly, “Somebody needs someone alright… or something.”

And even though Darren heard him, he made no reply. He knew it was the truth.

Enrique Credibleno scratched his head in a puzzled fashion and looked across to his friend Avo Chavez, who scratched his chin whilst pondering, the two made up Los Toros... and were currently giving Joe Campbell their own version of the Spanish inquisition.

"I think he's trying to trick us... there's no way Joe can just not explode with all hell and try to kill us both... this is some kind of ploy going down here." Avo answered.

"Maybe he's asleep dude?"

"What... with his eyes open?" Avo laughed, rubbishing the claim.

"Hey man, it happens... back when I was in Mexican jail, I used to sleep with my eyes open AND my ass shut." Enrique answered.

"The eyes I can picture... the ass... hmm." Avo said, narrowing his eyes to think.

"I have visual aid if it helps!" Enrique shot back, undoing his belt buckle and dropping his pants.

"What? NO!" Avo screamed, covering his eyes "Pull those back up man... not in front of the boss!"

Enrique quickly pulled his britches back up and sighed.

"So what could it be, why won't he talking to us?" Enrique asked again, rubbing his head.

"Maybe we just annoyed him so much that he went mental... you know, had a shutdown... or a breakdown or something, I mean... he hasn't even blinked for three hours." Avo pondered.

"Maybe he went blind with rage dude... you hear about it all the time."

"Nah man." Avo pitched in "That's just a figure of speech... not a medical condition."

"Oh yeah? Explain that to my family... they all went blind with rage, doctors never did figure out why." Enrique said, drifting off.

"We-" Avo began.

"YOU MOTHERFUCKIN SPICK MOTHERFUCK." Enrique screamed.

Avo's smile turned upside down.

"WHAT?" Avo screamed with rage.

"What?" Enrique answered "FUCK YOU YOU LITTLE TACO I WILL EAT YOUR CHILDREN."

"I... I... WHAT THE HELL?"

Enrique suddenly snapped out of his trance.

"Sorry dude... that was my Tourette's." Enrique apologised.

"You have Tourette's!? Why didn't you tell me?" Avo cried.

"I don't know you Mexican prick... do I have to tell you everything? Faggot." Enrique snarled.

"Why I oughta... nah, wait a minute... I guess that was the Tourette's too." Avo smiled, turning his back on Enrique.

"Yeah... Tourette's... Tourette's is what it was." Enrique said in a somewhat sinister fashion, before finally smiling again.

"So uh... Joe, can we have a match?" Enrique asked.

...

...

...

"Damnit, what's up his ass today?" Enrique uttered, folding his arms.

Avo peered over Joe's shoulder.

"Hmm... it would appear to be a stand of some sort." Avo replied "Anyway... lets go, we'll get noticed somehow." Avo finished, as he and Enrique turned and paced down the corridor.

Leaving Joe Campbell standing motionless and quiet.

Or at least, the cardboard cutout version of him.

But he failed.

However this had helped Miles Blunder. Today he was enraged. He was just going to walk around and finally not worry about a thing.

Easier said than done, but it started to form... as Miles walked to his locker room door and opened it up, not even taking a moment to think.

Miles looked around inside... no one was there. He searched from wall to wall... seeing absolutely nothing.

Maybe his roommate wasn’t here, yet.

“Good.” He grumbled, throwing his one gym bag across the way and onto the chair which sat there. Miles walked forward, but that’s when he heard a noise.

He turned around.

It was Faith.

He pulled out his Windex bottle, pointing it directly at her head. “Don’t move!” He said with a stammer. “Don’t yo- you fucking move or- or I’ll put this all over your face!”

His hands shook as he did this, but MB did mean business. Faith took a step back, as she looked at the weird-eyed nineteen year old. A chill ran down her spine.

“You’re... my roommate?” She asked while she shrugged.

Miles bit the bottom of his lip. “Shut up.”

“Joe told me... since the roster was getting bigger, there isn’t enough room for an inferior women like myself to have my own space... he told me this was the place I had to go for tonight...”

She shrugged. “I guess it is.”

“Shut up.” Miles still shook as he held the Windex bottle out in front of him. “Don’t take another step forward either... or I WILL spray you!”

Faith seemed confused. “Look. Okay... but just let me set my backpack down and-”

She took a step forward, as Blunder jumped up, even more ready to spray her.

Faith stopped.

“You keep your germs away from me...” He said, as the Crowd laughed. Why was he being so stupid? Normally Miles would just stutter and look like a fool, and though his actions were of a fool... he seemed more alter and ready to kill this time.

“You walk to your right... and I’ll walk to my left. You can set your bag down there while I exit the room. Joe booked me in a stupid Match anyway...”

Faith, again, rubbed her head. But she nodded. “Okay?”

The two started to shift, still with their eyes on one another as Miles kept the Windex bottle extended and towards the direction of Faith. Faith set down her bag as she looked back up as Miles, whom had already left the locker room.

She shrugged.

Manipulation can.

Ian Maxwell walked into Joe's office, carrying behind him like a game of follow the leader the stoner himself, the Mexican/African American Eddie Cheno. Cheno's eyes were so bloodshot that his pupils seem to bleed a river of red, and his hair had been sandwiched up against the side of his head in frays and split ends. Whatever happened in the previous week no one knew, but it can only be imagined that Cheno went on one hell of a bender.

Because that's how he's coped in the past.

Campbell cracked a smirk as he saw his own personal puppy dog following behind Ian Maxwell like a pet looking for it's daily meal. And that's exactly what Cheno believed would be his new role in the company would be.

The Bitch.

There's a reason why they call it the bitchseat. It's because no one wants to sit there, no one wants to be in that spot at that point in time. People will do whatever it takes to stay away from being the bitch.

Cheno had his jaw ripped open and passed out from blood loss just to avoid this moment.
But there was no more running.

"Ah, Eddie," Campbell said looking back down at his paper. He may be happy that Cheno is apart of his team now, but he had more important things to worry about. The state of his entire company. "Feel free to help yourself to something to drink or whatever you fucken want really." Campbell still muttered into his desk. Looking up quickly, he peered out through the room with an odd stare. "Where the hell is Hans?"

Maxwell and Cheno both took an obligatory look around and saw nothing. Seems like Hans must have ducked out just now. Campbell let out a small shrug. He knew he had Hans' trust, and he knew that when he needed him, Hans would be there. "Let's cut down to the chase." Campbell said, stepping away from his desk and looking out towards Ian and Cheno. Eddie let out a sigh, picking up a cup of water and cautiously taking a sip. "Don't worry Eddie, it's not drugged." And so, Eddie let out a sigh. "Listen, all this talking from you two need to stop. I need you two do to something for me. I need you guys to take out ArchAngel." Maxwell let out a sigh, and Cheno became intrigued. "I've already set up the fight, it'll be a handicap match."

Maxwell cracked his knuckles in delight, as Eddie continued his drinking unphased.
"Get ready for your fight, because later tonight, it'll be Eddie Cheno & Ian Maxwell versus ArchAngel." Joe picked up a drink himself and took a sip. "And Los Toros. Enjoy."

Cheno sighed, expecting this from Campbell and quietly left Joe's office to collect himself.

Joe let him leave as Maxwell immediately turned his gaze towards Joe. "This wasn't part of the deal" Maxwell bluntly stated.

Joe turned away from Ian and took a seat back at his desk. "The deal's changed Ian. The deal's changed."

“Outta my way, bitch.”

Her left kidney struck the knob and the pain radiated throughout her body, stopping her from breathing. She fell to the ground on her knees on the verge of crying. Biggs shook his head and walked away.

The door behind Nerva opened. It was Lotus, the Asylum Women’s Champion. She sighed and kneeled down next to Nerva. “Just breathe easy,” said Lotus. “Let me give you a hand.”

Lotus grabbed Nerva under the arms and stood her up. The pain began to ease down. Lotus rubbed Nerva’s shoulders therapeutically, but then slammed her forearm right into Nerva’s kidney. Nerva screamed and fell to her knees again, trying to sneak in breaths of air.

“You’ve dwindled into a pathetic weakling,” said Lotus. “It’s hard to even watch you.”

On that note, Lotus went back into her locker room and slammed the door.

Daniel Mitchell Vs ‘The Germ Gestapo’ Miles Blunder

He walked back and forth, waiting for his opponent.

And it was possibly one of the scariest people he’s seen yet to date.

“Dream On” cued up, as Daniel Mitchell walked out, one-half of DreaM. Miles jumped back as he saw him come down... all dressed in white. How was he going to beat a guy like that?
As Daniel entered the cage, the door closed and the bell went, as he walked over to Miles Blunder.

White eyes.

And Miles thought his were weird.

Daniel leg tripped Miles to the canvas right away, as he, then, dropped the elbow upon his chest. Blunder got up, however, as he tried to hurl Daniel over and into the side of the mesh, but Mitchell kicked Blunder in the head with a windmill kick.

Miles met the mat for another time in his career as Daniel walked over to the Asylum edge and waited.

MB slowly rose... seeing Daniel come out of the corner of his eye.

But there was nothing he could do.

The type-of fame asser move echoed throughout the Arena as Daniel stood upright, grinning.

Miles watched on from below... as he started to shake again. White eyes... this guy looked like he was going to kill ‘The Germ Gestapo’ if he got the chance.

Daniel lowered himself to Miles’ level, as he took the back of his arm and strapped on a armbared submission.

Surprisingly, Blunder tapped out right away.

The bell sounded, as Daniel got up and brushed himself off. That was hardly... even worth it.

Joe Campbell's office door blasted open... as Hans Krueger's body flew through it.

Krueger crawled across the floor to Campbell's desk... slowly reaching a bloody hand up, before pulling himself up with a second... Joe's eyes widened, at the sight of Krueger's bruised and bleeding face.

Not many people did hand Krueger over, and got away with it.

"VAT ZE FUCK!?" Krueger snarled, grabbing Joe by the collar.

The next person to walk through the door... was dead.

Gacy...

... Oswald.

Or not.

"I have to agree with Hans... WHAT THE FUCK? Jesus Christ... I said leave no stone unturned... but come on guys, what next? Are you going to kick the fuck out of me as well? Jesus... it's Krueger for christ's sake... this guy is like a brother to me... a cunty scummy German one at least... you don't beat up family, now get out there and find the sick fucker that fucked Michelle up!"

Gacy and Oswald were gone as quickly as they had arrived.

Joe looked Hans in the eye... the one that wasn't swollen shut.

"Sorry mate... can I get you a beer?"

Hans snarled.

He was tired of being looked down on.

And he seems to have misplaced his copy of Dance Dance Revolution.

Poser slammed the palm of his hand into a locker room door and walked in without taking no for an answer. Sitting there with his hands grasped was Daniel Mitchell, who looked up with a scowl. Poser thrusted the microphone into his face, which followed with an awkward pause.

Poser then stammered a small bit, before taking the microphone out of the silent face of Daniel. "Oh, whoops, I guess I should ask you a question before placing the microphone in your face, shouldn't I?" Poser asked rhetorically. "Well, you guys have taken the Asylum by storm, and well, you've actually done something important with your career!" Poser paused, before giving Mitchell the thumbs up. "GOOD FOR YOU!" Poser's jovial face turned to a frown before he stammered into the microphone. "Joe won't even give me a contract..." He lets out a sniffle and then pretended to have his eye's water. "IT'S JUST NOT FAIR!" Poser let out a sob before crumpling into Daniel's lap.

And Daniel was obviously not very enthused about this turn of events. Checking out the clock on the side wall, he still had a little bit until his fight with Blunder, so he figured why not.

Daniel's eyes slowly closed as Poser rattled on.

"Yeah man... trust me, everyone loves fireworks... look at WWE esse, all the best wrestlers have a pyro... the same applies here, we'll just run out into the arena while these babies go off, and preach our message while we have everyone's attention... it can't fail!" Avo said with a grin.

"Man, that is one sweet idea... so uh, when shall we do it?"

"NOW!" Avo roared... lighting the fireworks... before handing one to Enrique.

"AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Enrique screamed... busting through the curtain with Avo and waving his firework frantically.

The inside of the arena murmured, before a voice crackled out.

"Holy shit... LOOK AT THOSE DORKS... AHAHAHAHA!"

Suddenly the entire arena turned to face the top of the aisle... there stood Los Toros, Enrique Credibleno and Avo Chaves... waving dangerous fireworks around frantically.

Well, they were sparklers... so scratch the dangerous issue.

Enrique and Avo danced frantically, busting every move in their arsenal and trying to write rude words with the sparkers, a minor problem being that in a well lit arena, the sparklers had little to no effect.

With attention finally upon them, Avo quickly snatched a mic.

"Tonight dear fans! We have come here to spread a message... and now that we have your proper attention... that message is-"

*snatch*

"OH MY FUCKING GOD! THAT CHICK HAS HER GUNS OUT... SWEET! SWEET DUDE LOOK OVER THERE... SHAKE IT BABY! SHAKE THOSE BABYLONS!" Enrique screamed down the mic... pointing insanely.

Suddenly, the entire crowd turned their back on Enrique and Avo to observe the breasts of a blonde woman in Row Z.

Avo snatched back the mic furiously.

He opened his mouth.

And sighed... the greatest ever plan that Los Toros ever devised, had just been foiled.

By Enrique Credibleno, no less.

"Hey dude... what does this switch do?" Enrique pondered... flicking a switch on Avo's mask.

Which promptly burst into a wonderful display of small LED lights.

Avo sighed.

Turning a corner he saw a blurry object cross into his path by mistake, basically standing about an entire foot taller. He looked down at ‘The Law’ as the lawyer looked back up, seeing the giant in front of him.

The two stared at each other for a moment, as LLB squinted his eyes together as if trying to think “Who this man was”.

He studied the giant’s profile to the left... and then to the right.

That’s when the pages inside the lawyer’s head finally found the match.

It was Ricky Wasp.

“You.” Ricky’s voice was just a whisper. “... I hate you.”

It took a moment. With so many verdicts in the book of law, sometimes the facts from before were hard to remember.

Wasp and LLB had met before... battling for the right to hold the key to the courtroom at ‘Everything or Nothing’.

He studied Wasp’s head again... just to make sure. “You would.”

“I-”

LLB didn’t even give him an extra second.

“OBJECTION!”

The Fans roared.

But it didn’t sit well with Ricky. Taking LLB’s head and using his massive size advantage, he pushed the lawyer hard and into the side of the plastered wall. LLB’s head smacked into it, actually going partway through the plaster as Wasp began to walk off.

And pulling his head out of it, ‘The Law’ rubbed off the broken pieces before muttering under his breath. “Stupid weak plaster.”

Eddie Cheno & Ian Maxwell Vs ArchAngel & Los Toros

"All My Life" by the Foo Fighters quietly played over the pa system. Really, it was a faint whisper in what was an otherwise silent crowd. Most of the patrons had exited to what seemed like the bathroom or even the foodstand to buy... ha, a hot dog, as Enrique Credibleno and Avo Chavez made their slow walk down the aisle. Avo tried to slap a high five with one of the fans that stayed by ringside. Thing was, the fan was day dreaming and wasn't even paying attention, so as Avo went to slap his non-existent hand, Chavez wound up slapping the palm of his hand against the fan's face. The fan leapt at Avo, but was restrained by some of his buddies who handed him a beer.

Maybe he was related to Campbell?

They continued their way to the cage, looking inside. Credibleno yelled at the referee to open the cage, but the referee didn't even hear them. When Credibleno slammed his hands against the side, the referee turned around and yelled "HEY! NO FANS INSIDE THE CAGE!" Enrique and Avo just climbed in over the top since they weren't going to be helped in by the referee.

"Angel Mode Remix" played as the fans turned their attention to the oncoming ArchAngel with a fifty fifty cheering, percentage so to say. It's not exact because I can't exactly take a survey, but the boos seem to be level out with the cheers to just a normal deafening response of confusion for the former World Champion. Angel looked at his partners in disgust before climbing inside the cage walls.

"Smoke two Joints" by Sublime and this set the house ablaze with cheers. Eddie Cheno walked out from the backstage area, bong raised as he stared at the three men before him. Cheno's gaze never really left ArchAngel's however, as he awaited at the top of the rampway for his reluctant partner.

Too bad Cheno didn't know he was walking into a bear trap that was ready to clamp shut.

"They know who you are" by Powerman 5000 played as the fans let out their anger at the man who busted Eddie's cheek up even worse than it was after Immortals. The man who destroyed Eddie's face for all of his life.

But nothing happened. The song restarted and reset, but again, nothing happened, and Eddie knew he was just scammed.

Big time.

Cheno let out a large sigh, before toking once more from his bong, before placing it on the top of the entrance ramp and charging the cage.

Cheno climbed in and immediately went to ArchAngel, driving his shoulder into Angel's gut and sending him into the cage wall. ArchAngel wasn't expecting this surge of energy from the stoner, countering with forearm clubbed blows to Cheno's back. Enrique and Avo start kicking Cheno in the knee, trying to collapse him to the mat but failing. Cheno continued to ram his shoulder into ArchAngel's gut, while ArchAngel attempted to pound on Cheno's lower back but coming up weak due to the air being knocked out of him. That's when he saw his opening.

The left side of Eddie's face called out to him like it did at Retribution to Ian Maxwell, as ArchAngel sucker punched Eddie square in the jaw. Eddie backed off, clutching his wound before turning right into Avo Chavez and Enrique Credibleno. They each went for a right hand, but Cheno shrugged both off and caught each man with a double clothesline. The crowd let out a cheer as Cheno turned around right into an ArchAngel Vengeance. Cheno's eyes began to push against his brain as he cried out in pain.

Eddie slammed his hand into ArchAngel's face, not once, not twice, not three times, but a fourth finally broke it. That fourth may have actually been to the neck, once again blocking the air from entering Angel's lungs. Doubled over, Cheno measured Angel up and caught him with a Needle Jab to the neck and a resounding amount of cheers.

ArchAngel fell in a heap as Enrique and Avo quickly went to his side, trying to pick the monster up. They obviously failed, and instead turned their attention to the Drug addict before them. Avo turned towards Enrique and yelled out "TIGER CLAW~!" to a bored crowd.

Avo turned towards the crowd and yelled at them to get to their feet, because this was going to be the end of the match.

How right he was, because Eddie Cheno had just knocked out Enrique with "Clearin' da funken table," and was just waiting for Avo to get to his feet.

That is, until ArchAngel wrapped Cheno in a half nelson from behind and dumped him on his head with the Absolution. The fans let out their boos as Avo turned back around. He shouted that Eddie was simply scared of the Tiger Claw, as he went to his partner Enrique and helped him get to his feet.

The referee started the ten count, but it was pretty much academic.

One...

Two... Eddie hadn't moved as ArchAngel simply stared on. Avo had helped Enrique to his feet.

Three...

Four... Enrique and Avo danced. Somewhere, Eddie Scott Poser let out another cry.

Five...

Six...

Seven....

"They know who you are" by Powerman 5000.

Ian Maxwell out of the crowd with a steel chair.

ArchAngel awaited him in the ring, but his back was turned to where Maxwell actually was. ArchAngel was expecting Maxwell to come flying out from backstage, not from the crowd, so Angel cracked his fingers in preparation. When he didn't see anyone but could still feel the cheers of the Asylum crowd, he knew what had happened. So did Enrique and Avo, who began pointing towards ArchAngel's backside. He let out a "Fuck," before receiving a vicious chair shot from Maxwell to the back of the skull. Crediblino and Chavez stared in horror, each man trying to leave the cage but each man stopping themselves from doing so. Which is odd, because you can pretty much climb over any part of the cage you wish.

Maxwell helped Cheno to his feet, and then proceeded to slam the chair into the fallen ArchAngel's skull with the Aneurysm. Maxwell looked down in blood fury, and delivered his own form of vengeance to the former Asylum Champion. Eddie was quick to get to his feet, wanting to form his own revenge.

Climbing up the Asylum cage rim, Cheno picked up ArchAngel and dropped him on the top of the cage with Sucks to be You. The crowd let out a cheer as ArchAngel's face slammed against the steel, and Angel slowly fell to the outside.

Thing was, ArchAngel was still fighting, holding onto the top and not letting his feet touch the floor. ArchAngel was still in the match...

But Enrique and Avo weren't. Scared at the thought of facing an angered Eddie Cheno and Ian Maxwell, they bailed out of the ring, fleeing for their lives.

ArchAngel sighed, dropping off the cage wall in defeat from his lackluster partners. "This is why I work alone" he muttered to himself before returning backstage. On the way up the rampway, ArchAngel slammed his hand into the glass bong, knocking it against the wall and shattering the spirit of every pothead in Asylum attendance.

Maxwell yelled after ArchAngel as he walked away. Eddie dropped off the top of the cage to the canvas and Maxwell diverted his attention with the vibration of the jump. He expected to receive a punch to the jaw for all his hard work and help, and wasn't prepared to take that today. This time however, all he got was a nod in return.

Eddie returned to the backstage area, looking at the shattered pieces of his bong and shaking his head. At least this was the only casualty.

Or at least, they were.

Following their supposed match against Cheno and Maxwell... they'd made their way backstage, straight into hell personified, Avo's head had been rammed into and through a glass fire extinguisher case... the extinguisher in question had then been dropped over Credibleno's head... several times.

Moaning and groaning... the two members of Los Toros regained consciousness and found themselves in transit... Avo was being carried above the ground by his ankle... and Enrique was being dragged by the hair.

BL:AM.

Joe Campbell's door busted open again.

THUD.

Avo Chavez flew across the room.

THUD.

Enrique Credibleno followed suit.

Joe sighed.

"Fuck this shit... you know, I'm seriously starting to question my investment... I don't pay you two motherfuckers to bring me my friends and a bunch of fucking jobber hotdog boys, well... I don't pay you at all... but that's beside the fucking point, are you both incompetant or something?

Just go home... go and play on the motorway or something." Joe sighed, resting his head in his arms... he was never going to find out who'd attacked Michelle.

As Fall of Adam left Campbell's office... both members of Los Toros staggered to their feet... shaken and stirred.

"So dude... does this mean we're back in Team Campbell?" Enrique questioned.

Avo grimaced.

Joe pulled back the hammer on his handgun.

"Nah, fuck it... waste of bullets." Joe grunted.

"AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Los Toros screamed in unison, as Joe Campbell produced a staple gun from his desk drawer... before firing several shots at and into both members of Los Toros.

"IF I SEE YOU CUNTS AGAIN, I'LL BUY A MOTHERFUCKING NAILGUN!"

Poser let out another cry, slumping down on the bench and away from Daniel. Slowly, Mitchell saw his chance and quietly got to his feet, tip toeing out of the locker room. "Not to mention my poor dog Fluffy getting abducted by aliens when I was a lad!" Poser cried out again. "I NEVER GOT TO SAY GOODBYE!" Poser picked up his head and left a puddle the size of a great lake inside his shirt. "Daniel?" Poser sighed. "This always happens. WHY DO YOU PEOPLE LEAVE ME~!"

And Poser cried.

He cried and he cried and he cried.

... well yeah, I've got the boys on it right now... blood is probably being spilt as we speak.

Uh... of course I'm worried about Stranglehold, but my wife just got her fucking face cut to ribbons, priorities Tyler, priorities...

... no, I don't know where the fuck Villam is... you've asked me once already, anyway... where the fuck are you?

Looking for Villam.

Well, whatever Tyler... don't bother coming in now... everything looks to be under control, and if the shit really hits the fan, I think Providence is swinging back our way, so I can ask him for help.

Yep, alright... later." Joe finished, hanging up his cellphone and slipping it back into his pocket... he was on his way back to the office, with the most part of the night out of the way, it was plain sailing from here.

Joe swung his office door open, odd... the lights were off.

Joe closed the door behind him, a few seconds passed by as he fumbled for the light, before finally switching it on.

He turned.

Freezeframe.

There are moments in life where your life flashes before your eyes, some people say it's when you have a close scrape with death... others will tell you that it occurs right before you die, but not for Joe Campbell... because what sat before Joe Campbell had made his life flash before his eyes, in a quater of a second... he'd been a child and an adult, he'd walked every step of every mile... analyzing... searching... trying with every fibre in his being to locate the moment in time that had the answer for the question sat right in front of him.

Why?

Why is he sitting in my chair?

Joe opened his mouth... but the words just wouldn't escape.

"Good question." The figure sitting in Campbell's seat chuckled before Joe could even ask "But you don't want to be asking why I'm here... you should be more concerned...

... with how?"

Joe's face grew red with rage... he was nothing short of ready to explode, there before him sat his nemesis, a shadow from which he had tried to escape ever since he had set off on the Asylum venture, a man who was always one attendance record better, one PPV buyrate more impressive... one dollar more well off.

"You motherfucker... how dare you." Joe snarled... stepping forward with his arm already pointing in the direction of his desk drawer.

"Ah-ah." The invididual said sarcastically... suddenly, Joe stopped in his tracks "You think that I don't know about the little water pistol that I you keep in this drawer Joe? Tisk Tisk... you really haven't thought this through have you? I was afterall... here first, who's to say that I'm not clutching it in my hand right now? Who's to say that your next step... won't be your last?"

Joe swallowed hard.

"Good boy... now please, take a seat Joe... we have some business to discuss." The figure spoke out once again.

Joe sat into the seat, with a picture of rage painted across his face.

"I have no business with you motherfuck... now toddle off back to the fWo, before you get hurt." Joe snarled.

"Hurt? That's really not a very nice way to welcome an old friend Joe... and even if you don't consider me to be an acquaintance...

... at least respect me for what I am...

A shareholder."

Several moments of silence passed.

"A... a what?" Joe said, narrowing his eyes.

"Please Joe, don't put yourself across to be deaf as well as stupid... you heard exactly what I said, shareholder shareholder shareholder, maybe now it's drummed in... you'll speak to me with the proper respect that I deserve."

Joe's face was still blank.

"Fuck you asshole... don't ever come into my back yard and try to take the piss out of me, you're lucky I don't keep several of your fucking fingers for this, now leave... go... get the fuck out before I have you hung drawn and quatered." Joe sneered back.

"Ah... I see, it's going to be like that is it? Very well... I expect you'll want to see tangible proof before you listen to me any further... as always, it appears as though Joe Campbell will be taking it the hard way." The voice fired back.

Joe shifted in his seat, ready to attack.

"Biggs... Ruben... if you will." The voice spoke over and beyond Joe, suddenly... the door flung open and swung shut again, Joe tried to get up from his seat, but was quickly subdued by the wrestlers, who slammed him back down in the seat and held his arms down behind his back.

"Come on then you fucking faggot! Get it over and done with... lets get this fucking kicking out of the way, just remember Chris... I've got more than enough power to send you to the bottom of the nearest river." Joe barked.

"Ah Joe, you really aren't in a position to be making threats, and regardless... I didn't come here to argue with you, I came here to tell you how it is... now you still don't believe that I'm a shareholder... well keep your eyes peeled Joe, the proof is on the way."

He got up from the seat and picked up a dossier, opening it at the first page he made his way over to Campbell.

"Cast back your memory Joe... back to before all of this, before you were a rich man making idle threats... who were you Joe?"

Silence.

"Nobody! The answer is nobody Joe! You were nothing... a poor little piece of Eurotrash trying to scrape the barrel for a buck or two... and then you had an idea, wrestling... boxing... why not fighting? You could make millions... billions! But oh dear... dilemma, you are still a cheap little English runt... so what do you do Joe? What do you do?

You beg, you steal...

And more to the point Joe...

YOU BORROW.

Can you remember now Joe? Can you remember those months before the Asylum ever became? How you'd trail around from business to business, borrowing money? Selling shares here and there with the promise of untold fortunes?

No... no you don't Joe, because you've become 'bigger than that'... nobody wants to remember the days before their glory Joe, but unfortunately on this occasion... those days have come back to haunt you.

Do you remember now Joe? A sunny summer day in the year 2000... you were looking for a quick dollar and you stumbled upon a small marketing company called Unicorp?"

Joe's eyes widened.

"Ah... it all makes sense now doesn't it Joe? The pieces of the jigsaw are falling together." The figure went on.

"Fuck you!" Joe sneered "I sold that company a shitty 2%... what is 2% to me you fuck? I still own this fucking company... now get out, you make me sick!"

A silence followed.

"Hahahahaha! 2%? Is that so Joe? Well I'll be damned... I'd better pack up my bags and leave right now.

You idiot.

Do you honestly think I came here... into your office, with 2% of your company behind me? BAH! Don't be so naive Joe... don't be so blind...

... do you see this?"

He held up a contract... Joe laughed.

"Ha, fuck you prick... it's a contract, it only serves as further proof that you haven't got shit on me!" Joe chortled insanely.

"WRONG!" The figure barked back "Wrong again Joe! You see... when you walked through the doors of Unicorp that day... you never saw me behind the scenes, but I saw you... I read the report, I knew all about your little business venture long ago, and I saw the prospect in it Joe... I saw it well before the others."

"So fucking what prick!? The fact remains... I only ever gave you 2%... do you think I'm stupid? I shared out the rest between small companies, dickhead! Never give anyone as much power as your own... even I know that you fuckhead... now get out of my face!"

There was a hint of desperation in Joe's voice... silence followed.

"Ah Joe... what can I say, what can I say to make a blind man see? You know... there are a ton of philosophies that could summarize this one nicely.

How about... even Rome wasn't built in a day?" He chuckled.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Joe spluttered.

"It means Joe, that after you sold that first 2% to me... I got hungry, intrigue took over the better part of my senses... and I wanted more, small businesses Joe... is that where you sold the rest? A bit dangerous is it not? To sell shares to small businesses... they aren't afterall, the most stable of ventures... most small businesses don't even make it past their first year.

Which is why I bought them Joe.

Which is why I bought all of them."

More silence.

Joe's throat was dry... his head spinning.

"No..." Joe uttered.

"YES!" The voice shot back "YES! Now do you see? Now do you see what was before you all along!?"

"NO!" Joe screamed defiantly... closing his eyes to shut out the pain, but he failed... soon Ruben Ross and Biggs Dangsta were peeling his eyes open.

The man before him flicked through the dossier.

"LOOK JOE! LOOK AT THE TRUTH WHICH YOU FEAR!" He screamed.

Joe's eyes watered as the contracts flicked before his eyes... small business ventures to which he'd sold shares.

Advanced Power Administration.

Gronberg Transport, INC.

Toprank Internet Marketing.

Cooper Manufacturing.

Teleline PLC.

Joe narrowed his eyes.

"LOOK!" The man screamed again.

Joe focused... but his brain refused to beliebve what his eyes could see.

A small logo, down in the small print of each company contract... nestled away.

Unicorp

Unicorp

Unicorp

Unicorp

Unicorp

"Now do you believe Joe? Now do you believe in who and what I am? I own this Joe... it's every bit as mine as it is yours... all of it." He said maniacally.

"Fuck you!" Joe spluttered "I'll take you to court... you won't get away with this! And don't think I'll be alone for long motherfucker... I sent for Providence ten minutes ago, he'll be here any second."

"Fine then Joe, we'll play the legal way... unfortunately, you'll lose and go to jail for a very long time... what with your track record... next to mine? I don't think so! As for your friend... we're more than ready for him... oh... and then there's the small issue.

Of your wife's 25%.

Which I just so happen to have picked up a few weeks ago... and that would turn the tides I believe... 60 - 40 in my favour."

Joe shook his head in disbelief.

"That's right Joe... say hello, to your new boss..." The man laughed... before drawing back.

SMACK.

A blunt fist clattered into Joe's face, knocking him out and popping his nose.

The figure took a handkerchief from his pocket... and wiped the blood from his hand.

As he made his way to the door and opened it, he turned back to Biggs and Ross.

"Set him up... we go live in twenty minutes." The voice demanded.

Biggs and Ross obliged.

"Oh... and when he wakes up, tell him the boss sends his regards."

Pyro explodes as ‘Life We Chose’ by Decoy hits on the PA system, and out walks Ty Hughes with the mic in his hand, his steel baseball bat in his right hand. He walks down to the cell, pointing out with his bat into the crowd, as the crowd roar triumphantly as for the second time tonight, one of their heroes has returned to the cell.

“Hey bitch… I’m back!”

The crowd screamed their approval again.

“You really thought it’d be that easy to rid this place of me Joseph? You really though I’d just be another of those faces you can just erase and everyone would forget about? You can’t get rid of me like you did with Graphic Violence, like you did with Borst, like you did with Kenny Rock.”

Once again the crowd burst into life, listening to names of some of the greats that have been a part of, and you could argue made, the Asylum

“I’m not someone who you can just pretend isn’t there til they disappear, Joseph. I’m not just some pussy little fire, I’m a raging fucking inferno, and you… can’t… control me!

You think that nobody would know about my return at Retribution, there was a fucking audience there, fuckwit. I return and you have the nerve to censor it out, cuz it doesn’t reflect well on you. Well fuck you Campbell, I’m not here to be controlled, and I’m not here to be censored, I’m here to tear… shit… up!!!

I know you know this Campbell. I know it scares the living shit out of you every day, and cuz you can’t control me you try to destroy me?

fuUK?”

The crowd replied in unison, “fuUK?”

“You attack me during my greatest moment and expect to not only get away with it, but to get rid of me? fuUK?”

The crowd once again joined in, replying with “fuUK?”

“Well tough shit Campbell cuz I’m gonna turn your life into a living hell, and why…

Cuz I’m Ty Hughes and I’m your worst fucking nightmare!!!”

The crowd burst into cheers again, in eager anticipation of the turmoil that Ty Hughes was gonna unleash on Joe Campbell.

“You might control Immortals and Retribution, Campbell, but the time will come when your eyes won’t be on the prize. You’ll slip up, I’ll have one last opportunity, and then it’ll be my time. I guaran-fucking-tee it.”

The security officer banged his fist against the locker room door, trying to let the Asylum’s TV Champion know that Joe wanted to see him. Despite Providence’s recent attitude change, the guard knew that he was usually pretty easy to deal with backstage. Perhaps that’s why the silence made him wonder.

“Come on, Mr. Campbell wants to see you,” he yelled, hoping that maybe that would get Providence moving. A few more seconds passed, but there was still no response. With a shrug, the guard decided to open the door and head inside.

“Didn’t you h-...”

The guard’s words stopped as he walked inside the locker room and found complete darkness. He flipped the light switch, but the darkness remained. Taking a step forward, the sound of crunching glass explained why that was so. Then, as he gazed into the corner, he realized why there had not been an answer.

Leaning back against one of the lockers was Providence, the TV Title belt draped across his legs, his head lying to the side with his hair hanging over his face. His skin was as pale as a piece of chalk, with sweat glistening on his skin...

...and a needle sitting in his right hand.

The guard stepped forward and wiped Providence’s hair to the side and checked his pulse. A moment later, he was back outside the door, frantically looking from side to side.

“Help! We need some help down here! Get a doctor!”

“The Third Coming... has arrived.”

Out strode the Extreme Champion to the song “Heresy” by Nine Inch Nails, same as it ever was. The Crowd cheered lustily, brandishing their WWSD? shirts the way the religious branded their crosses. Steve Christ marched into the mesh and was quickly tossed a mic.

“Is there no one who has any fucking balls anymore!?”

The Crowd: YAY! He cursed!

“This is supposed to be the toughest place on Earth and yet the Steve Christ challenge for my Extreme Title has gone over about as well as being a writer for RAW!”

The Crowd: Oooooooohhhhhhh...

“Rookies. Jokes. Freaks. No one with any stature back there, not that coward Inmate who I could’ve taken the Title from, not the fucking ‘Strangehold’, not Joe Campbell, nobody, STEVEDAMNIT I mean NO BODY, dares to touch me! I am the toughest man in the toughest place and rather than get punked out on nationwide TV you cowards want to hide in the back? Fuck that. I demand a Match. Right fucking here, right the motherfuck now, one of you assholes is going to get out here, get your ass kicked, and PRAY...”

The Crowd: “TO! YOUR! GOD! YAY!”

“What the freaks in the seats said. C’mon.”

10 seconds went by, nothing.

“Hey, I’ll be out here all damn night until I get a fight. C’mon... I’m waaaaaaiting...”

20 seconds.

Half a minute.

“You bunch of damned cowards! I’m going back there and the first person I see is going to bleed like the fourth week of Lilith Fair.” Steve began heading out of the cage, looking for trouble.

It just so happened trouble decided to make itself known before much longer.

Static-X. “Black And White.”

L.

L.

B.

The Crowd roared with approval. LLB was one of the few who could claim to be as popular as Christ. He was widely known as a former World Champion elsewhere and pretty much the best fighter never to capture an Asylum Title.

And there he was for the first time since ‘Immortals’ on the rampway, ready for action.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERECTION!” The lawyer boomed.

“OBJECTION!”

I’m sorry, what!?

“EEEEEERECTION!”

“OBJECTION!”

Christ rolled his eyes.

“Christ, I’m one of the few who’s defeated you. There’s no one tough enough? No one is man or woman enough to step to the so-called ‘Almighty’?”

“OBJECTION!”

“Would you people stop yelling that! You’re only encouraging his delusional ass!” Yelled the Champion.

“I’ve beaten you once before, Steven. And now I’m going to do it again, and this time for that Title you love so much to boot. On the charges of being not as good as me, I find you...”

“GUILTY.”

LLB began marching to the cage. The cameras flashed... the people stood...

“Oh, I’m going to be guilty all right.” Smirked Christ. “Guilty of some motherfucking ASSAULT!”

Steve Christ (C) Vs LLB
(Extreme Title)

Christ dropped his Title and ran forth with a fury as everyone stood, but was rocked with a stellar left hand from LLB. Christ flew back to the mat, but got right back up before raising his fist and firing a shot at ‘The Law’.

That’s when the Arena started to rock.

Left hand LLB... right hand Christ. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left... right... left... right... left... right...

Rake to the eyes: Champion.

LLB stumbled around as Steve drew forth with a clothesline from hell, but the quick lawyer was able to duck it and roll out of the way.

It appeared from nowhere.

The ‘Erroneous Conclusion’.

“GUILTY! GUILTY! GUILTY!”

LLB jetted onto his feet as the adrenalin began to rush throughout all of his body. He shot up his hands before slamming them down like a Judge would a mallet, while he carried himself around the cage, screaming red-faced and all. The Fans yelled too... and Steve Christ was beginning to be counted.

The count was at four when LLB looked over.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

Nine.

LLB’s eyes opened up wide.

Steve Christ jumped to his feet.

“Jesus...” He muttered, as he rushed at Christ again, ready to slam hammer down with another spear.

This time, he saw nothing but mesh.

The Fans cheered again, as Christ rocked the Asylum with rage as he stormed around, swearing, screaming... and waiting for ‘The Law’.

The lawyer walked right into it.

A belly to belly suplex that flicked LLB against the side of the mesh.

“CHRIST! CHRIST! CHRIST!”

However... this time Steve Christ rubbed his short blonde hair and the back of his neck, as LLB tried his best to fight off the pain... and just... get... up.

He did.

But that’s where LLB was blinded. The Match... the energy of the ‘Jury’... he just had to get right back in there.

Half nelson slam.

AKA, ‘Save Yourself’.

Everyone went crazy.

Christ marched around the cage for a moment or two... but he couldn’t take the wait. He told the stupid lawyer he was going to hand out some fucking assault.

Taking LLB and relentlessly giving him a handful of rights to the jaw line, assault was his motherfucking middle name.

Christ hurled LLB into the mesh again, but LLB’s body bounced off it and caught Christ with a spinning heel kick to the nose. Steve fell fast, and this time LLB shot up to cheers of his name.

“LLB! LLB! LLB!”

The chance for ‘The Testify’ was there for the taking... but this was to be a fast paced Match... so LLB did what he did best.

He waited for another spear.

Finally, Christ rose... the people stood...

The cameras flashed...

He ran.

But missed.

He had fallen out of the ring and onto his head.

“Take that MOTHER FUCKER!” Christ cried as the Fans exploded. He then followed out of the ring, taking ‘The Law’ and body dropping him on the ground. Christ smiled, walking over to the Crowd’s seats. He reached out, pushing a lady off of her chair as he waited for LLB to get up and go at him.

Seconds later the Challenger did.

But that’s when Christ actually dropped the chair and did something else.

He lowered his body at the last possible second, before BACK body dropping LLB over his shoulder.

The former Action! Champion flew in the air like never before. He was high... too high, as he flipped head-over-heals in the air and made a sickening thud onto the black mat below.

Somewhere in the world, more and more people were tuning into the fight as it progressed.

LLB madly shook the cobwebs out of his head as he tried to get up... but couldn’t. The sheer impact of the move... it had basically killed him for the rest of the contest.

However, as he dizzyingly looked up at the roof, hearing the thousands of ‘Jury Members’ cheering and going wild over this Match... he had to get up.

He just had to.

“OB-FUCKING-JECTION!” He cried with every bit of his body. Steve Christ walked over to him... bent down...

And was DRILLED across the face like never before.

Christ whacked his back into the side of the cage, as LLB rose, taking the chair in which Christ was going to use.

Whack.

Connection.

And justice... the book of law... was going to do it again.

He brought back the chair...

He took the big swing.

WHACK!

Nothing but metal.

Christ rolled out of the way and stumbled up the ramp as he did. LLB glanced around...
finally able to find Steve Christ walking up it. He dropped the chair, biting his hands as he did. When you swing a chair that hard... and meet it with more metal, it hurts a lot.

In Christ’s perspective: A fucking lot.

LLB marched his way over to Steve, as he took him by the back and ripped his hands across it. Christ yelled out... but as he did he was able to throw his elbow back and club LLB in the side of the mouth.

Let alone... ‘The Law’s’ own head smacked off the top of the ramp.

It was now time for LLB to learn something that the book of law never taught him.

Thou... shall not fuck with...

Steve Christ.

‘Christ Driver II’.

Followed by a double underhook brain buster.

It had to be over... as Christ looked on, dragging LLB to the top of the ramp where he called out to the people.

‘Into the Void’.

SSSLLLAAAMMMM!

The brain buster made a noise like never before on the top of the ramp, as everyone watched on. They were happy... and they cheered.

But they didn’t want this Match to end.

And they didn’t... want a winner.

Christ screamed again as he got up... and the Referee began to count LLB’s limp body on the mat.

“ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

FIVE!

SIX!

SEVEN!

EIGHT!

NINE!

TEN!”

No.

Just like Steve Christ, LLB jumped to his feet.

He screamed too. He looked dead into the eyes of Steve, the Extreme Champion.

The most evil and widest smirk known to date in the book of law then crossed LLB’s face.

“OB- OB- OB-
ERECTION!!”

And like never before, the people cheered. LLB looked around him... as did Christ. They were on their feet... not just cheering for LLB... but cheering for the Champion, Steve Christ, too.

They were cheering for both of them... and loving every, single, second.

Christ replied with some brilliant words of his own.

“Fuck you.”

The camera’s flashed... the two ran at one another again.

They both met with a double shoulder block. And they both...

Stood.

They looked at one another again, as the Champion and Challenger grappled. Christ broke it apart, stabbing LLB in the eyes as he pushed him to the ground... LLB laid there for a second, and when he looked up, he saw something that was going to make or break his chances.

Steve Christ was climbing the CampbellTron.

If everyone wasn’t out of their seats already, they were... now.

LLB followed, as Christ walked across the bottom of the platform, and behind him his body was there, only bigger, and projected. ‘The Law’ joined on top, as he slowly marched over to Christ whom stood in the middle of it. He didn’t want to slip and fall just yet. If LLB was going to... the Champion was going to have to do it to him.

Left hand LLB.

Christ replied with his own right.

Thus it began... a whole minute of shots to the head.

Left... right... left... right... left... right... LEFT... RIGHT... LEFT... RIGHT... LEFT... RIGHT...

The Fans were into it deeply, as they cheered and waved their hands.

Rake to the eyes: Jesu- Steve Christ.

He then slowly bent down... taking LLB into a fireman’s carry and started to spin him around...

It seemed to go slowly for the two that fought in this battle, at first... but as the people watched on, they were completely caught off guard.

WHACK!

A Malonestorm... the dreaded fireman’s carry into a michinoku driver... as LLB, along with the offensive Steve Christ had fallen directly to the steel ramp floor.

Everyone cheered with rage as they shook the Arena, and Steve Christ slowly, slowly got up...

The Referee counted.

“ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

FIVE!

SIX!

SEVEN!

EIGHT!

NINE!

TEN!!”

Steve Christ had a hard time walking back to the cage to get his Extreme Title... only to collapse on the middle of the ramp.

‘The Third Coming’ had finally won.

But as the camera panned around and to the Crowd which seemed worked-up tonight like never before... LLB was back, too... and this testify was going to be the wildest of them all.

The lights in the arena were out... specific reason?

Steve Christ Vs LLB was the main event, done... finito, Steve Christ had retained his Extreme title, Show over... piss off home.

But not tonight.

Tonight there had been no fade to logo, the crowd hadn't had a chance to filter out of the arena because quite simply, as soon as LLB and Christ had left, the lights went out and stayed out.

Even by Asylum standards... it was wierd.

But as "Climbatize" slowly filtered through it's own beat and the rythm kicked in... the lights exploded back up, to reveal Exxa Decimal standing in the centre of the Asylum with a microphone in his hand.

The music slowly faded out.

"Gather round, gather round and bare witness to the most historic moment this sanctuary for the sinners has, and evil will see.

Now is the time my brothers... bring forth the sinner... let him feel the wrath of the righteous... and let him bear witness...

... to the end.

To the end of the Asylum as we know it."

Seconds after the words had escaped Exxa's mouth... the "brothers" stepped forth.

Biggs Dangsta.

Jeff Garvin.

Ruben Ross.

Wheeling in with them... the sinner.

Joe Campbell.

Joe Campbell, sitting where he belonged... in his comfortable leather chair... he wasn't going anywhere however.

His wrists were tied firmly to the arms, his feet bound to the bottom... and his mouth taped firmly shut.

"Your leader in his prime, ladies and gentlemen!" Exxa snarled, the crowd reacting harshly and chanting "You suck dick!" toward him.

"Now Mr. Campbell... Stranglehold has no wish to hold you here against your will... you are free to leave at any time, just say the word."

The camera's quickly remapped Joe Campbell to confirm the fact that his mouth was taped shut.

"I brought you our here for a reason sinner... it was to show you, that the best kept secrets truly are... the finest secrets, it's always been something I and my peers have found humorous... your own ignorance that is, to think that you never questioned how Joe... to think that you never questioned our methods... as we entered the arena, as we breached your security... as we strolled onto your shows and Pay Per View's as the weeks went by, leaving you powerless to stop us.

I know that if you weren't tied up right now... you'd protest, you'd claim to know the truth... but as these people don't know but are about to find out, you've already come face to face with the truth once tonight... the truth hurts, doesn't it?

Doesn't... he?"

Exxa stopped for a moment to turn his back on Joe and face the crowd around him.

"It never ceases to amaze me, the stupidity of the common man... you've shown all of the naive, innocent traits of prepubescent children... did you never wonder how the Stranglehold was able to preserve itself? None of us afterall, are millionaires... we are but humble wrestlers whom have banded together for the greater good.

So I would imagine that it will come as a surprise to you, to learn that we are not alone... in fact, we were never alone... the Asylum was never alone... for you see, I have a trait which Joe Campbell does not possess, intuition.

You see, it always puzzled me... how a ruthless, vindictive... and at the end of the day STUPID tyrant could ever run a successful business... so I had to find the answers, I had to do some research, so I did.

And I was pleasantly surprised.

For you see... I checked the gate figures, the attendance records... merchandising, you name it... I've seen the record.

And something didn't add up.

Joe Campbell has never been a keeper of secrets... on more than one occasion... he's gloated about his financial situation to members of staff... the general public, anyone and everyone knows just how well off he is.

Except for himself.

If only you knew Joe, if only you knew... the money sitting in your bank is only a margin of the Asylum's overall turnover for the past two years... we haven't been making millions my friend, we've been making billions... so I did some more research, I kept my ears to the ground... and after a lot of digging.

I met this man.

The man who owns more of the Asylum, than Joe Campbell himself."

The crowd were silent now, the wind had left their sales... all that was left, was the revelation.

And in good time, it arrived.

The lights were out again... cameras flashed, attempting to capture a moment which would be remembered forever.

Suddenly, something appeared on the video wall... a simple symbol, a simple dollar sign.

It'd been present on the Stranglehold logo earlier in the week, a sign of things to come.

With the logo... came the lyrics, the lyrics to "We're in this together" by Nine Inch Nails.

"I've become impossible
holding on to when
when everything seemed to matter more
the two of us
all used and beaten up
watching fate as it flows down the path
we have chose

you and me
we're in this together now
none of them can stop us now
we will make it through somehow
you and me
if the world should break in two
until the very end of me
until the very end of you"

And so, the mystery was no more.

Blistering green lights filled the arena... and as they did, a man stood beside Exxa Decimal, his green and black reflective jacket glistening under the lights... the blonde hair was a telltale sign... and as the lights came up fully, the crowd gasped in disbelief at the man standing before them.

C H R I S U N I V E R S A L

A few moments of sheer disbelief went on... Joe continued to struggle in his chair as the three members of Stranglehold at the top of the aisle clapped and applauded Universal's appearence.

"What did you think ladies and gentlemen? That Stranglehold's money appeared from thin air? Sadly we don't all seek underhand means of garnering income like the sinner sitting before us... some of us confide in a friend, a man with a mutual respect for the goals of the righteous... Chris, is there anything you'd like to say at this point?"

Exxa passed the microphone over to Universal... and after a solid minute of sheer lunacy and booing, he spoke.

"Nothing that hasn't been said already... I guess it all comes down to the fact, that for a change...

... the sellout, bought what the shithead... was selling!" Universal laughed... the crowd continued to boo insanely as the cameras focused on Joe Campbell once more... his face red with sheer rage.

Universal handed the stick back to Exxa, and folded his arms.

"So there you have it... the answer to a question sought after by all, the origin of the Stranglehold... which unfortunately for the Asylum, has just tightened it's grip.

But we didn't just come out here to flaunt our brilliance Joe, we came as always to make demands... ManHunt as we all know, is on the way... what better time for Stranglehold to clean up this wasteland once and for all... here is what I propose.

My first request is that Strangehold are allowed to enter the ManHunt match...

My second request... is that anyone is allowed to enter the ManHunt match...

Even wrestlers.

ESPECIALLY wrestlers...

And my final demand?

The winner of the ManHunt match... faces the Asylum Champion.

DIRECTLY after the match!

Those are my terms... to the owner of this promotion, I ask... do we have a deal?

The cameras once again panned onto Joe, before the shock realization kicked in...

... Exxa was not addressing Joe, as the owner.

Instead, the microphone was resting before Universal's lips... he spoke but a single word.

"Deal."

"We're in this together" by Nine Inch Nails hit the speakers again... and Exxa Decimal along with Chris Universal clambered down out of the Asylum and made their way up the aisle toward the top of the ramp, as they reached it... the entire Stranglehold stood side by side, raising their arms ceremoniously into the air.

One by one... they filtered through the curtain... leaving only Chris Universal behind.

For Chris Universal, was not yet finished.

He walked up to the taped up Campbell... and will a swift yank, removed the tape... and several lumps of stubble, from his face.

"YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH... I'LL FUCKING HAVE YOUR SHINY LITTLE HEAD ON A STICK... WHAT... WAIT... NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Joe's screams were useless... a second later, Universal had simply stuck a foot on the back of his chair... and wheeled it over to, and off the edge of the ramp.

SMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMASH.

Joe Campbell's battered, broken body lay in a twisted pile of leather chair amongst the shattered broadcast area.

Universal stepped to the edge of the ramp, before spitting down on Campbell's shattered being.

"See you next week, don't be late." Universal uttered... before slowly backing away and exiting as the Asylum's Show came to a close.

Asylum.

2000 - 2002?

R.I.P