But the question still... was are they back?

The Phoenix walked confidently down the hallways, as he brushed the hood of his sweatshirt down, revealing his damp brunet hair. He held an empty water jug in his left hand as his right hand fumbled in the pocket of his leatherjacket. He stopped and calmly placed the jug on the ground, standing in the middle of the hall, he finally fished out the canister that sat in the tight pocket. Scooping his fingers down inside, he packed his lip full of the chewing tobacco, before resealing the case and throwing it back in his pocket. He sucked hard on the cancerous lump enjoying the juices. He stopped before the office door, and sucked at the mound in his lip hard, and spat excess fluid into the jug. Sebastian’s left arm wiped the drips of brown juice that traveled to his chin. He was ready now. With a turn of the door knob, he was back in Joe’s office, again for the millionth time.

“Joe! I heard you got the group back together, why didn’t you tell me? I had to fucken hear from some guy out in the parking lot. If I didn’t know any better, I think you’re trying to keep things away from me. And that’s not what’s going on is it Joey-boy, I mean we go back like blacks on crack.” Sebastian sucked at the tobacco, and spat more into the gallon, which was now lined at the bottom by browned saliva.

“Fucken shite!” Joe exclaimed looking at the jug, and then slowly his eyes went up to look into Sebastian’s face, “You got some bollocks, don’t you? Come in here to fucken badger me with that shite?”

“What? What are you talking about?” Sebastian looked all around him trying to find what he brought in with him.

“Sodding hell! Bin that now.” Sebastian reluctantly ripped the soggy chunk of tobacco from his lip and disposed of it into the jug. Sebastian walked to the trashcan in front of Joe’s desk and prepared to dump it in. “No! You bleeding cunt! Throw that shite out in the hall, get it the fuck out of here.”

Sebastian looked at the can, at Joe, at the can again, and shrugged before taking two steps towards the door and he tossed the jug out into the hallway, spraying brown saliva throughout Joe’s office. He walked up and closed the door, and returned to the front of the desk where he sat.

“So am I in, or what Joe?” Sebastian folded his arms across his chest and leaned back, “I mean shit, from what I’ve noticed, I beat everyone you put in front of me, I beat John C. Willis twice.. I be…”

“Fuck all! Carnage, you didn’t beat Carnage, now did you, you twat?” Joe pushed his feet back against the ground and pulled open a drawer and begin shuffling through them, Sebastian was curious of what was going on but he couldn’t help talking.

“No, I didn’t beat Carnage, but I proved I’m not with him, right? Shit, you’re lucky I didn’t go after you for fucken killing my family.” Sebastian scrunched his nose as he scratched at his sideburns, “I don’t know why you did it Campbell, but I can add, but I can also subtract, amazing what school teaches… What the hell is this?”

Thompson gripped up the paper that Joe tossed onto the desk in front him, “It’s the truth Sebby boy, the truth you’ve fucken hid from me for too long.”
Sebastian stared at the paper for sometime, and then finally dragged his left hand across his now perpetrating brow. Sebastian let out a nervous laugh, before bringing his eyes up to Joe, “And what makes you think I know anything about this,” he swung the paper and air, “I mean I met the guy once and..”

“Shut the fuck up, he’s dead ain’t he?” Sebastian didn’t say anything as he looked back down at the paper which stated that Gary “The Viper” Maxwell* was wanted, it explained how he was believed to be armed and dangerous and it listed a reward. “He’s dead isn’t he you fucken scumbag? Right?”
[*Note- Read Sebastian/Carnage series Fool’s Goal for details]

Sebastian sighed and slid the paper over to Joe, “Yeah, yeah.. Yeah. He’s dead. But I didn’t kill him. It was this old guy who Carnage had with him and..”

“Shut up..” Joe said crinkling both hands over his hair.

“..and I would’ve gotten Carnage for it, but he thought I was with him, so I was baiting him Joe. Don’t you see? I was toying with him, setting him up, getting him ready…”

“You’re not in..” Sebastian didn’t pay Joe’s words any mind as he continued.

“My plan was this Joe, I was going to screw him over before he dumped the Asylum down on it’s head. The Gary guy, he wanted to take over too, but I didn’t kill him, you understand? Fuck..” Sebastian sighed running his hand across his chin, “It’s a good thing that you understand all this, because if I’d believed in God, I’d swear to his fucken ass right now, but I don’t so that’s useless, but if it means anything I’d swear to him anyway. I’m proud to be a member of Team Campbell..”

“Piss off, I don’t accept scum like you into my ranks. People like you shite on me every time, and I’m sick of the shite. So fuck you Sebby, fuck you.” Sebastian’s brow shrank, and his mouth tightened as he looked at Joe.

“Sometimes I think I’m fucken half retarded Campbell, because I ain’t giving up shit yet. I’m persistent, you know what? Tonight.. Tonight.. I’m going to win your respect, even though I should’ve had it by now. Just watch Joe, tonight I’m going to be the like you Brits say, the Dog’s bollocks.. You can bank on that.”

"You're going to prove yourself? You can start by helping me out right now." Joe got to his feet and pointed Thompson in the direction of the door, which they both walked through toward a task that needed to be completed.

"Saccaro!" An English sounding voice growled down the hall from behind him, Michael turned and was face to face with the Asylum owner Joe Campbell.

"Ah Joe." Saccaro said with a narrow smirk "Come to terminate my contact already?"

"Not your contract prick, just you." Campbell responded with an angry scowl that only seemed to amuse Saccaro.

"You and who's army, limey?" Saccaro smiled back.

Joe leant to the side just fractionally to peer over Saccaro's shoulder.

"MY army." Joe said, his scowl suddenly turning into a wry smile that told Saccaro something was wrong. Michael turned to see just what Campbell had been glancing at and found out in a very painful way.

CRUNCH.

The boot of the 6'8" monster that was Osyrus connected firmly with Saccaro's groin, the shocked newcomer doubled over before bravely trying to tackle the 288lb Christensen to no avail. Osyrus grabbed Saccaro by the collar and whipped him around straight into the wall with a sick thud.

"You didn't let me finish last week, Saccaro." Joe began "I was about to say before you left that you chose a bad time to try and fuck with me, a very bad time."

This fact became all the more evident to Saccaro who was caught in the side of the head with a vicious Muay Thai style kick... courtesy of Thanh Vactor. Saccaro collapsed to the ground but didn't get to stay there long as he found himself pulled up by August Monday.

SMASH.

Only to be put back down just as quickly by Monday, who grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and dumped him head first through a glass cabinet containing a fire extinguisher. Saccaro lay on the floor still conscious and bleeding heavily from the cuts that the glass had inflicted.

"Any last words you little shit?" Joe chukled as Saccaro tried to scramble back up to his feet.

"Fuck you." The downed newcomer sneered back.

"Wrong answer." Joe said with a scowl before looking in the direction of Sebastian Thompson "Do it."

Thompson was holding a lead pipe in his hand and looking somewhat reluctant, after a few seconds of hesitation Joe spoke again.

"I've had about enough shit from you this month Thompson, if you don't hit him before he fucking gets up you'll be joining him down there on the floor... now DO IT!"

Sebastian shot Joe a quick glare before complying and sending the pipe firmly into the back of Saccaro's head, knocking him back down onto the floor completely unconscious.

Joe, Osyrus, Thanh Vactor, August Monday and Sebastian Thompson paced slowly away from the crime scene. Stopping for a moment as Joe grabbed a medic that was moving past them "Better go and have a look at that chap down there, he would appear to have slipped."

A few laughs broke out amongst the group as Joe turned to his accomplices and flashed a grin.

"Now to go and make it official."

If ever there was a firm confirmation that was it. The Show didn't open up with the usual fireworks display but rather the sounds of D12 and various pieces of gruesome archive footage from the last time that Joe Campbell had assembled a group of powerful individuals around himself.

Campbell was first out on the aisle with chorus of boos immediately surrounding him, unlike the previous weeks where he'd greeted them with discontent this week he wore a smile of old.

"Shut the fuck up and we'll get this done quicker." Joe began as the D12 track slowly faded out "It's been on the tip of peoples tongues for weeks now so I'm just gonna say it...

...TEAM CAMPBELL IS BACK!"

More insane booing was generated by the riled up crowd as the quartet of Osyrus, Thanh Vactor, August Monday and Sebastian Thompson marched out onto the ramp and stood in a row behind Campbell.

After a few moments of pausing to absorb the furious reaction coming from the crowd the five figures made their way down the aisle and in an instant were in the Asylum like a swarm of angry bees waiting to attack the first thing to get too close to the hive.

"Shut up." Joe arrogantly blurted out again to the crowd before starting to speak "So here we are... Team Campbell reborn."

More booing.

"And I must say what an impressive gathering of human beings we are." Joe continued "In Osyrus we have 6'8" and 288lbs of canned pain, this man is our bulldozer and anyone that wants to fuck with us is free to try and stand in his way."

Without warning Joe sent a rapid jab straight into the ribs of Osyrus, who simply stood unflincing with his arms folded. After a quick grimace Joe shook his hand.

"Like punching a brick wall... moving on." He continued "In Thanh Vactor we have the skills of the operation, he keeps his fucking mouth shut and does what he's told and will basically turn people into minced meat at the click of my fingers."

Joe turned to Thanh and smiled "I know you have nothing to say so I'll press on and talk about August here... August Monday, shit month and shit day but this man has a bright future. He's more important to my plans than he'll ever know."

August flashed a smile and extended a hand for a shake that Campbell reached out for but suddenly remembered something and withdrew his hand.

"Sorry... haven't washed it today." Joe said with an awkward grin "And last but... well... probably least we have Sebastian Thompson here. A man who's basically extremely close to getting my foot in his mouth if he doesn't pull his finger out of his arse, I don't mean to bollock you out here in front of everyone Seb but come on... get yer' act together."

Joe paced around the Asylum for another moment or two as a "You suck dick! You suck dick!" chant broke out to which Joe quickly replied "Yeah, not as good as your mothers."

Campbell looked across his newly assembled team and scratched his chin before looking ponderous.

"But something seems to be missing." Joe spoke up, a comment that got a slight look of surprise from all four men "We have all of the parts but there isn't any glue, ne gel to make sure things stick together. I don't mean to be a prophet of doom but that last Team Campbell basically exploded from within because of all the conflicting personalities... how do I stop that from happening again?"

A huge amount of various screams and shouts broke out of the crowd... some of them including "Bring Token back!" and "You need Borst!"

"Get Tyler in on it!" Another fan roared as Joe grew frustrated "It was a rhetorical question you thick cunts."

Joe paced around for another few seconds "I'm sure you guys won't be offended by me saying this but not one of you doesn't have a fucking screw loose, you're all a bit mental if I'm honest so there's no way I can really get inside your heads and find out what you're thinking...

...so I'll introduce the man who can, Jakob Gianni."

The crowd all turned their attention to the top of the aisle as "Windowpane" by Opeth hit and another newcomer to the Asylum made his on screen debut. Standing at 6'3" and weighing 253lbs the man covered in tattoos didn't exactly portray the picture of sanity that Joe had painted.

Gianni clambered into the Asylum and took his place beside Joe as the music slowly faded out and Campbell continued.

"This man... despite how he may appear is a well trained psychiatrist. At least he better fucking be." Joe turned to Gianni and cracked a smile "Three hundred and twenty five bucks an hour, you'd better keep an eye on this lot."

Joe turned back to the men standing before him "Now I don't mean to bring about a sense of paranoia because we're a team... but this guy will be watching you lot like a fucking hawk. One sense of treachery in the ranks..." Campbell stopped to stare for a second to Sebastian Thompson "...one sign of mutiny and we will bring you down."

Joe urged Gianni to go and stand with the rest of his new allies and he placed himself directly in the middle, raising a few strange looks from his team mates.

"Now onto some other important things." Pulling out a sheet of paper Joe unfolded it and cleared his throat "This is a list of people that I have, I almost feel like Santa because tonight me and the guys here will be paying everyone on this list a visit... the lucky ones will be asked to join us...

...and the unlucky?" Joe stopped and simply pointed up at the video wall that sparked into action to show a bloodied and battered Michael Saccaro being carted into the back of an ambulance "The unlucky are going to be eating grapes with him tomorrow morning down at the emergency room."

"Fight Music" by D12 hit gain and the reformed Team Campbell exited the Asylum and left to the same sour reaction they'd received upon arrival... the chaos had only just begun.

"Hi Joe, I’m Reggie Harrison-Willis. I debuted on Fight Hell 3, did you see me? I was great wasn’t I? Well I just wanted to--"

Joe didn’t look too happy.

"Who the fu--" Joe stood glaring at Reggie. "Oh yeah, yeah, I know you. You got bitched off stage by the crowd."

"Look they were rude. I don’t need to take that shit from them, you hear? I’m Reggie Harrison-Willis. I’m a PAID athlete after all."

"Well then go jump over a fucking hurdle or something. Just get out my way!"

Reluctantly RHW stepped aside. "So I was thinking why don’t me and you hang out together? I’ve got some great ideas about the Asylum set design. We can have the video wall shaped around a silhouette of my body and I’ll be standing like this."

Reggie turned around so his back is facing Joe. Joe walked off, ignoring him. While Reggie stood shoulder width apart flexing his muscles. "Like this. You see?" Reggie then put his arms behind his head. "Or I could stand like this. What do you think, Joe?" He turned around. There’s no Joe.

"Joe?" Reggie then hollered down the hallway where Joe Campbell had walked off. "LETS DO LUNCH!"

Joe Campbell quietly walked down the corridor so as not to startle the figure he was approaching... a tap on the shoulder was followed by "Hey Sean."

Token Weed replied by swinging around and narrowly missing the ducking Joe with a right hand.

"For fucks sake man, chill out... it's me." Joe said holding his hands out.

"I knew it was you before I turned around." Token replied with a glare.

"Such hostility in you, you know we're going through a bit of a bad patch Sean but I'm sure it can be resolved. Granted I should have you dismembered for coming into my house and beating me up but I'm willing to let it slide providing that you take me up on my offer...

...to join Team Campbell." A rub of the hands followed as Joe awaited a reply.

"Ha." Token simply blurted out "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"Nope." Joe replied with a deadly serious expression "Come on Sean, it'll be just like old time... back in the day where were we did what we wanted without any fear of the repercussions."

Token shook his head "I've beaten the shit out of you, trespassed at fWo events and been dropped from a ladder into a crowd of rabid fans this months... I think I still do what the fuck I want without any fear of repercussions...

...with or without you."

Joe scowled.

"I don't think you quite understand Sean... I kept a space for you, the past is all forgotten now. Welcome to Team Campbell!" An hopeful extension of Joe's hand followed before he quickly withdrew it rubbing the sting where Token had firmly smacked it away.

"In your fucking dreams, mate." Token growled "I wouldn't re-join Team Campbell if the alternative was fucking cancer, it'll be the same as it always was Joe... you'll get too big for your boots and piss everyone off and it'll all be crumbling down. So I think I'll keep doing my own thing if it's all the same to you."

Token turned to walk away but Campbell quickly put a hand on his shoulder, again withdrawing it quickly as Token simply snarled "Want to keep that hand?"

"You fucking listen to me cunt." Joe growled back "You forget who books the matches around here... so I think tonight you can take on August Monday in a first blood fight. Premise is simple, you win and you can do what you want but if you lose... you join me in Team Campbell or your contract goes in the trash."

"You finished?" Token said calmly.

"Yeah." Joe shot back.

CRACK.

A quick smack in the jaw sent Joe reeling back to the ground clutching his face in agony as Token sneered "Repercussion that." before storming away.

As Joe lay on the floor recovering the blow he found the time to whisper in return "Oh, I will."

“Hate Me Now” began to play over the PA system as the Bizarre Kid stepped through the curtains to a decent amount of jeers from the crowd. He was egotistical, but you’d be hard pressed to find a fighter who wasn’t. Trevor Calver had finally proven himself in the ring after suffering a defeat to current tA World heavyweight champion, Ty Hughes, Trevor had silenced his critics who considered him to be another “rich, egotistical jackass with no substance like a lot of the other Asylum newcomers” by knocking one of Joe’s hired guns, August Monday, out at Fighth3ll.

The Bizarre Kid was followed closely behind him by his butler and the man who helped him defeat August, Jeffery Duncan.

Calver waited by the cage door, which was shut, as his butler came behind him and opened the door for him. The crowd jeered as the man who’s net worth was $14.5 million dollars stepped into the Asylum in his three piece Armani suit and showing a brilliant smile, despite having eight stitches just above his right eye.

“Well, well, well…” began the self proclaimed Schenectady Shooter. “It was just a few nights ago when I defeated a man who has fought all over the world…a man who has fought in several fighting promotions and left with a winning record… a man HAND PICKED by the Asylum owner, Joe Campbell, to take out a superstar the caliber of Token Weed… August Monday.”

Some jeers for the mention of August Monday and for the gloating of the Bizarre Kid.

“But on a different note, I would like to remind each and every one of you that I have more money in the bank than most of you will have in your life. My parents have been listed in Forbes magazine 100 richest people in the world, and I would like you to know, based on these facts, I’M BETTER THAN YOU!” More cheap heat for the Bizarre Kid. “In fact, I’m fairly sure that MY BUTLER makes more than you people!”

The Bizarre Kid began to laugh for a few seconds as some of the fans decided to go to the concession stands and the others continued to heckle the Schenectady, New York native.

“Alright, seriously, I know that you scrubs need some cash so you have bus fare to get home… so, being the NICE man that I am… I’ve decided that I’ll give ONE lucky human being the chance to step into the Asylum tonight with a rising superstar such as myself and EARN a few hundred dollars,” the crowd cheered wildly at the prospect of making some quick money. “Alright.. Let me see…” The Bizarre Kid began to walk around the Asylum, looking over and through the mesh for the perfect fan that would make some money… doing what, nobody knew yet.

“YOU!” the Bizarre Kid pointed at a particularly obese and unkempt man in the front row of the Fleet Center crowd. The man stood up and pointed to himself incuriously before the Bizarre Kid nodded quickly. Security helped the morbidly overweight man over the barricade and sent his butler, Jeffery Duncan, to the locker room area to retrieve something. Jeffery broke out into a small sprint before disappearing from view.

The large man pointed to himself on the big screen and screamed “I’M ON TV!” before pointing to his shirt which showcased Pete Borst to a decent pop from the Boston crowd who saw the fWo superstar help Ty Hughes and Steve Christ save the Asylum.

As the man was led into the cage by two beefy security guards just as Jeffery Duncan came down the ramp holding a guitar. The crowd was puzzled as the two entered the Asylum at near the same time and walked towards a smiling Trevor Calver.

“Alright, here’s how you can win five hundred dollars.”

The Bizarre Kid walked over to Jeffery Duncan and snatched what appeared to be a brand new acoustic guitar out of his hands.

The Bizarre Kid held the guitar at each end with his right and left hands before putting his knee through it and breaking it into a few pieces. The majority of the new guitar still lay intact, but some of it’s pieces had been torn off, leaving them sticking out like jagged edges.

The Bizarre Kid dusted himself off before handing the obese man a shard of the guitar. “Okay, now in an effort to PROVE to you people that my threshold for pain is perhaps the highest you’ve ever seen, I’ll allow this man to perform something that I did while I was in the circus… I’m going to let this man use this shard of real guitar… and stab me ANYWHERE on my body with it.” The crowd cheered at the concept of seeing someone stabbed in the Asylum despite a few of them having seen it a week earlier on Action’s Pay Per View.

The obese man held the shard in his hands and looked around at the crowd uncomfortably. It was evident by the way that he was holding the shard that he had never stabbed anyone in his life before and didn’t look like he wanted to, even though there was a chance he could win $500.

The Bizarre Kid took off his suit jacket and unbuttoned his dress shirt, exposing his chest. “Come on… stab me!” The Bizarre Kid smiled at the man as the man chuckled nervously. He was still reluctant to stab the professional fighter. The Bizarre Kid finally shoved him hard in the middle of his Borst shirt, “Come on you fat fuck.”

That was it.

The fat man took the shard and sliced the Bizarre Kid right at his shoulder, which immediately opened caused blood to trickle down his shoulder. The Bizarre Kid looked at the man… and laughed.

The obese man immediately became worried and hurriedly walked out of the Asylum without collecting his money. This prompted the Bizarre Kid to throw the five, crisp $100 bills up in the air for no one‘s taking.

The crowd wasn’t really impressed due to the fact that the man made a very wimpy stab, but when they saw the cut, they gasped.

The blood had begun to drip in clumps down his shoulder as the Bizarre Kid used the hand to mockingly wave the fat man out of the Asylum.

“This is task one. In the coming weeks I will prove to you imbeciles that I am not only richer than you all, but I’m smarter and a hell of a lot tougher.”

“Hate Me Now” by Nas and P. Diddy hit over the speakers again as the Bizarre Kid left the Asylum with Jeffery Duncan bringing up the rear as usual to a rousing chorus of jeers from the Boston crowd.

The deal with Joe Campbell had been made, and following their failure to defeat LoD at FIGHTH3LL, Banderas & Matthew Karst -- known collectively as The Enlightened -- had been denied the chance to ink a tA contract. Joe had, the day of the event, told Matthew that if they picked a fight and won, they'd be on the company payroll.

Of course, Banderas knew nothing of this. He believed that Joe had signed them to a contract right away, based on their performances in fWo Survivor 3. Bandy had no clue that Mr Campbel despised wrestling and despised the fWo. It was this dimwittedness that allowed Matthew the ease of fooling the Colombian, by saying that showing up at FIGHTH3LL would ensure that Joe signed them to lucrative contracts.

And also, enable a reunion with the LoD.

Naturally, Banderas bought it. He enjoyed interacting and communicating with the LoD whilst in Survivor, and felt that he'd become good friends with the legendary duo. Of course, following the altercation between Joe & the LoD at FIGHTH3LL, Karst was the first one to approach Joe... sensing a perfect opportunity to make waves AND claim the tA contract.

In style, too.

Joe agreed, and a small part of him hoped that The Enlightened would win. Nobody walked out on him and his legacy.

Alas, it wasn't to be. The LoD won, and in the process, earned their escape out of theAsylum. Matthew & Bandy, meanwhile, remained jobless. Joe ordered his security team to kick the two men out of the arena following their defeat. The angsty teenager, however, was determined to get into the fighting promotion.

It was like a voice was guiding him... forcing him to continue trying, to not give up.

"Because I know I'll get the job done this time. Forget Bandy, he's not that smart and not that great. I punched the principal of my school, for fuck's sake. I can survive this fighting thing... Bandy's weak. I'll just use him as my servant or something.

You're better off not having LoD, anyways. See what the Survivor competition did to them? And now, they're out! HA, they thought they were gonna stay on and win the fucking thing. Now, they're jobless to. And unlike me, they have nowhere to turn to. They can't come back here, you won't let them!"

Matthew Karst was going to argue his case all night long, if he had to. His sisters, Cherie & Angelina, didn't approve of this entire situation. The fact that Banderas was being duped also didn't go down well with Cherie, especially, but Matt wasn't going to listen to them. This was something he HAD to do.

Joe snorted, as he looked up from the porno mag he was ready and stared at Karst. The latter really had come in at a bad time. And the manner in which he'd actually come in... was atrocious. Barging into an office and slamming the door shut, before demanding for a fight that'd ensure the boy and his dumbass of a partner contracts if he won -- not a good way to impress Joe Campbell.

"Wow, you punched the principal. Bloody excellent. And listen up, twat, you don't tell me if I'm better off not having certain personnel on my payroll. My promotion, my problem.

Now, a fight is what you want, is it? The way I see it, you're awfully harsh on your Colombian friend.

So, I'll tell you what. I'm going to put HIM into a fight. Against... let's see, who's free tonight? Oh, right, of course. She's free every night, I hear she works in the afternoons. Karen Pembridge. Yeah, splendid. Banderas versus Karen Pembridge. If your friend can beat the slag, the two of you get your bloody contracts.

If not, you twats WILL get the fuck out of MY arena!"

Smirking at the idea he'd come up with, Joe Campbell leaned back in his seat and continued the reading of his precious porno magazine, noting that in a few seconds, he'd have to forget that he ever read the magazine. Matthew, meanwhile, tredged out of the room... realising that he'd just screwed his own chances of getting work.

He shouldn't have revealed that Banderas was the weak link.

Now, what?

"Yes it is, i'm kicking your arse so badly, looks like I'm going to beat you again..."

Now that Splink were a world wide phenomenon there were dozens of international companies who wanted to whore their products on the back of their wave. Today was the turn of Codstick Games who'd just created the official Splink video game.

Some fat ugly smelly programmer idiot flogged the game to TMM and Slapnutz "eck so you see here jimmy lad, you can be anyone from Splink and we've even got in a few of your old enemies who you battered through your fighting career"

Basically the game took them 1 week to make and was lamer than ECW Hardcore revolution. TMM liked it though as it'd make money and money = good. Slapnutz wasn't so sure as for some bizarre reason TMM was much better than him in the game, in fact Slapnutz was really bad.

This was definitely TMM's week. After spending an entire week showing people the humiliating video he has of Slapnutz' dream he'd been on a bit of a roll. "Can you put a cheat in the game so when you do something it makes Slapnutz turn pink and his name change to Sexnutz?" He requested.

"Oh fuck off TMM, I'm sick of this, you're really getting quite dull now".

Here's Wincy! "Are you two going to - TIT LEAK - argue all day? if you - CONSTIPATION AH AH AH - are then I'm going fishing - CUNT" Wincy stamped her authority all over the lead members of Splink.

Mr Pink weighed in with his line "Yes and I'll go with her, i love a good fish". Zippy walked out of a wardrobe - WHERE'D HE COME FROM? - "Ah eck, how aboot ya Mr Pink, I'll go with ye tu".

So that's them told, keep on arguing and the rest of Splink will go fishing.....
......so Wincy, Mr Pink and Zippy went to fetch their fishing rods and headed down to the canal near the gypsy camp. Slapnutz and TMM were left to call each other names and give each other dead arms. The fat programmer stayed to get beaten up.

Sitting with his feet up on a makeshift desk, Joe lounged back waiting for the first piece in his puzzle to fall into place. Eagerly twiddling his thumbs, Campbell grinned as the door burst open to reveal none other than Nick Lucaselli. Still bearing the wounds inflicted by Ty Hughes weeks ago, the self-proclaimed "Voice of Reason" didn't look too pleased at being summoned by the man who held his life in his hands.

"What?" he shiftily snapped, showing the same disdain for Joe as he did everyone else in the Asylum.

Not feeling he had to justify his actions to one of his pawns, Joe casually shrugged his demanding enquiry off.

"Nothing really," Campbell answered, "Just seeing how you were."

Just looking at him, Lucas knew Joe was toying with him... But what could he do? Joe was his Life Support Machine, he kept Nick's heart beating, and he could pull the plug at any time... Just by kicking him out. With hands on hips, Lucas just snarled.

"Fine," he coldly answered, before begrudgingly giving in to forced politeness, "Yourself?"

Joe smiled that charming northern smile.

"Oh, I'll be better in about 30 seconds."

His brow furrowing, Lucas looked at his 'owner', confused. Joe was by now up from his seat and walking around the desk, gesturing back to his now vacant chair.

"Why don't you take the weight of your feet," Joe suggested, that mischievous glimmer still prominent... He was up to something, "You've earned it."

Rightfully showing his boss mistrust, Lucaselli was cautious in circling the desk, his right hand hovering out to his side... Ready to lunge inside his jacket for a weapon if needed, an instinct he learned was useful around the Asylum.

"Thank you," was muttered by Lucas as he sat down slowly, not taking his eyes off the Asylum owner and ringmaster.

Then there was a knock at the door.

"Wonder who that could be?" mused Joe with lashings of sarcasm, Lucas' eyes narrowing in suspicion.

The door opened, and waiting to enter was anarchy itself... Which, being anarchy, didn't wait for an invitation before storming in.

Oh, it also had a name - Gage Brayden.

Joe grinned as the fighter's eyes met with immediate hostility... As if both gave off a scent that conflicted against the other... Anarchy incarnate meeting the voice of order

Joe's smile was past jovial, and well into the bounds of devilish.

"Fuckface, meet wankstain... I'm sure you'll get along beautifully."

A good time for Mr. Campbell to make his exit.

And close the door behind him.

And lock it.

And laugh.

A lot.

At FightH3ll, Karen Pembridge had shown, once again, why she was one of the best fighters on the planet by scoring a moral victory over Mercy. The Masked One was taken down a peg, and Karen's stock in the Asylum had risen considerably. Tonight, Karen would put on another clinic and show not only the Asylum, but the world, that she was ready to step up to the next level.

Nick Brandish. The mastodon had shown up at Lucinda's request to help tilt the odds in her favor. She and Nick had had a sort of symbiotic relationship for quite some time: Lucinda would use her considerable resources to provide Nasty Nick with various bits of information that he needed, and Nick would use his considerable physical assets to solve any problems Scott sent his way. His appearance at FightH3ll was his way of repaying his debt to her. But since he'd been fired from the fWo, and shunned from professional wrestling altogether, Nick decided that maybe he'd stick around in Asylum and help Lucinda and Karen with any problems that they felt needed his "delicate" touch.

And speaking of problems... Mercy. It didn't have to end up the way it did. It wasn't like she didn't have the opportunity to get on board with the winning team. But no, Mercy chose to play the role of the mysterious loner. When she made her choice, the wrong choice, she set the wheels in motion for her own demise. She was tough, a skilled fighter. Maybe almost at Karen's level of expertise. But with Nasty Nick added to the equation, she didn't stand a chance. It was only a matter of time before Mercy was no more.

Only a matter of time.

The smile grew a little more as Lucy reflected on her position. With Karen's fighting prowess, Nick's destructive power, and Mercy on the run, was there anyone who could oppose her?

Didn't seem like it.

"Oh there's somebody at the door, oh theres somebody at the door, oh theres somebody at the door, oh theres somebody....." TMM and Slapnutz danced about the room on the cue of the door bell. "..... at the door, oh theres somebody at the door" Finally the dancing took Slapnutz towards the door, he opened in mid pirouette... and fell flat on his arse as soon as he saw who it was.

"Spazzy Carol?" Slapnutz gasped as he's sat on the floor, TMM stood up and rubbed his hands in anticipation of the new amount of mocking he could do after this latest development. This Spazzy Carol women was hideous! She was basically a man with tits, she even had a bit of a beard.

"Ahhh Slappy my love, bet you never thought you'd see me again!" Spazzy Carol let herself into the room, could Slapnutz sink any further? You bet your arse he can. Behind Spazzy Carol was none other than... "Gay Dog! Why are you here?"

Gay Dog appeared to be a friend of Spazzy Carols, he was much smaller than the he-she and was obviously gay. "Oooo it's been a long time skipper! When did we last see each other Slappy my Bunny" TMM raised his eyebrows at 'Slappy my Bunny'. Gay Dog was one of these fast talkers and he was only too happy to talk over people, before Slapnutz could get a word in Gay Dog continued "Now let me think... Oh it must have been 1997 when you had just been given your release from the fair. You'd stroked Carols mums beard for the last time and you wanted to say goodbye, I still carry that with me you know!"

TMM was having too good a time, he'd got to find out more though. There was enough mocking material there for a good 90 years "What did he give you, Gay Dog?" He asked.

Gay Dog puffed his chest out and was just about to open his mouth to answer when Slapnutz interrupted... sadly for Slap he got talked all over "He gave me this wonderful Coca cola bottle top on a shoelace, it's the only one in the world because it's from the bottle than Slap used to take a piss in when he was caught short during a sideshow, why he'd just pop behind the curtain for a moment, whip his Joseph out and have a wizz... i bet he did some other stuff too!!!! I sometimes like to think what would happen if he did, in fact i have a blow up doll who I call Slap and act out my dreams with"

TMM was busy taking notes, Slapnutz was almost crying and Spazzy Carol was checking down the backs of chairs for money. Darn thief!

Slapnutz was going into one of those trances, you know like that David Blaine freak but this one is because he was having the worst week ever. He not only had the embarrassment of 'Sexnutz' but now two of his most embarrassing figures from his past had returned, couple those up with his record contract being cancelled and him not getting any and it's not hard to see why he's bloody miserable"

Meanwhile, TMM was fishing for more stories "So Spaz, May i call you spaz?" Spazzy Carol fumed "No you may not, my name is Spazzy Carol and I'll tell you this only once" TMM - put in his place - went after some stories, "Ok, Sorry Spazzy Carol, well please do share some stories with us, where did you meet Slapnutz?"

Slapnutz started making groaning noises, Gay Dog is checking his arse after each one for some reason, Spazzy Carol spills her guts "Slappy used to stoke my mums beard at the fair, he was a great beard stroker"

"Was he the best in the west?" - TMM was clearly taking the piss

"No, he was the best anywhere! He was sorely missed when he left to live with gypsies"

TMM couldn't believe it - "What, Slappy actually lived with gypos?!!"

"Oh no, he kicked fuck out of them and went traveling"

TMM sighed "That was a good story until you told me that, hasn't he ever lived with gypos?"

"Are you a gypo?"

TMM jumped up, "What the fuck do you mean am i a gypo!!"

"Well you could be, you look quite scruffy and have a foreign accent"

TMM went and picked up a large stick "If i was a fookin gypo i'd twat you over the head with this big long hard stick right now! So am i a gypo?.... and you better think fast girl, that's if you even are a girl, perhaps you're a man?"

Gay Dog interrupted TMM's threat with a large ripper..."Oh fuck, I'm leaking again!"

Gay Dog ran away towards what he thought was the bathroom - it was actually a storage room containing Slappy's priceless collection of birth certificates of dead famous people. A huge splat could be heard, the smell was atrocious. TMM chundered, Spazzy Carol didn't react and Slapnutz was depressed... when he saw what Gay Dog had just done to his birth certificate collection he'd just about be suicidal.

The jovial Joe that wanted something from you.

And anything else that usually entailed something bad.

Gunn took a seat before Joe and felt eyes upon him, to the right and the left of Joe were Osyrus and Thanh Vactor standing completely still with arms folded almost like two gargoyles atop a building waiting to repel evil. August Monday and Sebastian Thompson were lounging at the other side of the room and Jakob Gianni was keeping a watchful eye not on Gunn but everyone else in the room.

"I've got a piece of paper in my hand here Tommy, not sure if you were watching my speech earlier on but given your recent displays I'd guess at no, so I'm going to tell you about what's on here." Joe said as he unfolded the paper.

"Actually ah' was watchin' so ah' take it you'll be bringing me in to yer' establisment here?" Gunn replied before stopping to observe with a scowl the fact that Campbell was chuckling to himself.

"Maybe I would've been Tommy, maybe I would but I was checking out a few records here and there the other day and was surprised to find, well actually to not find a certain death certificate in someone's name." Joe said as his laughter faded into a sigh of discontent "The name Nicholas Quaid ring a bell?"

"Aye." Tommy replied "He's the guy that stitched me up according to you."

"Exactly, nice to know you don't have Alzheimer's which is I suppose good and bad for you because it leaves you with no fucking excuse... I thought I asked you to deal with him?"

A moment or two of silence passed.

"Ah' was busy." Tommy answered.

Joe laughed to himself again.

"I gave you a gun and a job Tommy, you gave me nothing in return... the fact that man is still living and breathing puts my future at risk. That means you've put my future at risk meaning that you leave me with only one choice...

...to put your future at risk too." Joe snarled getting closer to Tommy's face "You fight Thanh tonight, you lose... you're gone, now get the fuck out of my sight."

Tommy balled up a fist for a second before remembering that he was behind enemy lines, a quiet exit followed.

"Nice night for a walk."

Nick didn't even turn his head at the sound of the feminine voice to his right. He continued to stare up at the sky.

"Arnie's first line in the Terminator," he said. "Now that was a great date flick."

"Only you would think of that as a date flick," Mercy said as she leaned up against the wall beside the massive Brandish.

"You weren't complaining when I had my hand in your pants while Arnie shot up the cop shop." He took another drag from his cigarette and blew the smoke into the sky. "The people in front of us thought I screaming because it was scary."

She snatched the cigarette from between Nick's fingers and held it between her blood-red lips. Nick turned his head and looked at Mercy for the first time since FightH3ll. He tapped his finger against the mask she wore. "So what's the deal with this? Everybody knows what you look like under there, Jenna."

She blew a smoke ring at Nick's face. "What's the deal with you helping Pembridge? You know what that bitch did to me by taking my mask off."

"You're not dead yet, so I'm guessing not many people saw what you look like under there. They didn't recognize you."

He pulled the cigarette from between Mercy's lips and crushed it in his palm. "If they had, I'd probably be the last face you'd see. As far as Pembridge and Scott goes, it's just business. Too bad you're on the shitty end of the stick."

She had to ask, even though she knew the answer. "After all we've been through in the past, you'd still fight me?"

"Fight you, fuck you, it's all the same to me. Either way, I leave happy and you leave bloody."

"You don't scare me Nick."

"Yeah, well you never were that bright. Nice tits though, and you can suck the chrome off a trailer hitch, so you're not completely without value."

Brandish rolled his head from side to side. "But since we're on opposite sides of the fence on this one, I should probably start throwing you through a windshield or six," he said as he motioned towards the parking lot.

Mercy reached into her jeans' pocket, "I've got something you should see."

Nick looked down. "Unless you've grown a dick, I've seen it already."

"You wish I'd grown a dick." She pulled out a slip of paper and handed it to him. "Here."

"What's this?" Nick stared at the slip of paper. His _expression dissolved and he shook the page at Mercy. "Is this right?"
Mercy nodded. Nick's eyebrows lowered. "How did you get this?"

Mercy shot him a coy smile and licked her lips. "Like you said - I can suck the chrome off a trailer hitch." The smile remained on her face as she backed into the shadows. "Don't believe me? Go talk to your new friends."

Nick watched her disappear. "Don't you worry your sweet ass, Red. I'll go talk to them."

They're back! Wincy Willis, Mr Pink and Zippy (Who promptly leaves again because story lines don't need him now) returned back, a fishy smell came with them but that could've just be Wincy.

"We're back, had a great time but didn't catch anything" Mr Pink filled in TMM and Slap as to how badly their fishing trip went, and confirming my suspicions that the fish smell was coming from Wincy.

Mr Pink noticed Gay Dog and Spazzy Carol. "Who are these people?"

TMM leapt to his feet and introduced Wincy and Mr Pink to Spazzy Carol and Gay Dog. He made sure they learned everything he just had about Slaps past and even made sure it'd been sexed up for added beef. More laughing followed and more tears for Slapnutz.

"AGGHHH A FUCKING TIT RAT!" Wincy jumped onto a table - and fell off it because she's shit - at the sight of what seemed to be a Mouse. Slapnutz woke up from his trance at the sight of misery and mocking moving onto someone else "Wincy, you just dropped your first kid?" he mocked, everyone laughed apart from Wincy and Gay Dog who were both scared of everything. Mr Pink went over and picked up the mouse. It was a funny looking thing because it didn't look like your ordinary mouse you saw in those American school television programmes that are ready to be dissected, this mouse looked just like Stewart Little, in fact it was even wearing some slacks and a snazzy shirt.

"Squeak, Squeak" The mouse could fucking talk! Sort of.

Everyone in the room looked about confused, but Mr Pink seemed to have become his adopted mother and instantly understood what he asked. "He just said Hello to everyone, we all look very kind people, he says he's a kind mouse who's looking for a new home after his mother and father and 45 brothers and sisters were killed in a health inspectors clamp down at a curry shop".

"Squeak Squeak"

"Yes you're right, you'd think you'd be safe in one of those" Mr Pink then turned to everyone else "We can take him in yeah? He's polite"

"Squeak Squeak"

"He says he cooks a good curry too!"

Mr Pink had fallen in love with the mouse. Slapnutz didn't look fussed at the idea, nor did TMM but once they saw how anti-mouse Wincy, Gay Dog and Spazzy Carol were they said "That's a brilliant idea".

"SQUEAK SQUEAK!!"

Mr Pink celebrated with the mouse "He's really happy. He says he loves us" Mr Pink wiped a tear back and turned to the mouse "You're like the brother i never had!"

"Squeeeak" The two hugged as Slapnutz was physically sick - and Wincy Willis uncrossing her legs had nothing to do with it.

Christ made his way down the aisle for the first time as an Asylum champion with a microphone in his hand and something to say following the huge developments that took place at FIGHTH3ll.

The Third Coming clambered into the Asylum and after a quick tongue in cheek style crucifix pose brought the microphone to his lips as his head still hung "Pray. To. Your. CHAMPION!"

Christ prepared to speak again but didn't get the chance as "4 Alarm Blaze" by MOP cut in and Ty Hughes made his arrival to a much less warm response, holding a microphone in his hand and much to the surprise of the fans... another Asylum championship over his shoulder.

"Like fuck they should." Hughes snarled through the microphone "I'm the real champion here, not you with your cheap plastic copy of a belt."

Hughes continued to make his way down the aisle as Christ held his microphone to the title and gave it a hefty tap with his fist to confirm that it was indeed anything but plastic.

"Glad you're coming down here and breaking the eleventh commandment." Christ said with a smirk "Seems we need to undispute who actually deserves this belt, I'm happy to drop you on your fat bald head if that'll make things a little more clear."

Furious in reaction Hughes dropped his microphone but was soon cut off by the sound of "Fight Music" by D12 and the arrival of Joe Campbell standing at the top of the aisle...

...also with an Asylum championship in his hand.

"I'm sorry chaps... had to lie to you about the belts, this one is the genuine article." He began flashing a smile "But I had to keep you two happy somehow, even if it did mean telling fibs about who had the real belt. Anyway, before you both get into it I should mention that it's in your best interests not to beat the fuck out of each other... you are afterall the champions."

An "Asshole! Asshole!" chant broke out the Campbell simply ignored.

"Here's how it's going to be guys... you're both technically champion so we're going to make things clear, at Everything or Nothing you will face off, one on one, to determine who the sole champion will be... BUT." Joe stopped for a moment "If either of you loses the belt before then in singles competition then I'm afraid you both lose it."

Joe took a few steps back toward the curtain "So if I were you two, I'd keep an eye out on what the other man is up to." Joe said with a wry smile before disappearing through the curtain... leaving Christ and Hughes to stare one another down after the revelation that a brawl would be less than wise.

Karen Pembridge Vs Banderas

The Colombian retorted, saying that he'd given Matthew a tape of his struggles in the ESCF for a reason -- to pass to Joe. Of course, Karst had thrown the tape away, but he lied to Bandy, saying that Campbell believed the stint in Survivor 3 had severely discredited Bandy's abilities as a FIGHTER.

Hence, the fight.

Also, to make sure that Banderas was pumped for the fight, Matthew added more bullshit to the pile, saying that Karen Pembridge had verbally blasted Colombia and such. Naturally, this enraged Bandy... and he was up for battle, not caring that it was a woman he would be duelling with.

Mission accomplished, for Karst.

"On My Mind" by System Of A Down blared over the speakers and out strutted Banderas, the Colombian BadArse. Wearing a white t-shirt with blue jeans and black boots, Banderas smiled as he bounced down the ramp, not bothered by the minimal positive reaction he was getting. The fWo & theAsylum were two different entities -- two different kettles of fish. And as he climbed into the cage, Banderas had a strong feeling.

That he'd be able to prove to Joe Campbell how worthy he was.

"Faultline" by Saliva was the next theme to be piped through the system, and majority of the crowd in the Fleet Center rose to their feet, to jeer the British Lassie. Donning a black t-shirt with white taekwondo pants, Karen walked down the ramp confidently. Barefoot, again. It was in her natural style to be barefoot, to allow for the full-force of her kicks to sting the opponent.

And on this night, she was determined to continue building up her reputation as a ferocious fighter, who could take on anybody regardless of reach or size or years of experience.

Thankfully, on this night, Karen was about to deal with Banderas. Not the sharpest knife in the drawer -- he probably couldn't even BE in the drawer. But it didn't matter to the Lassie, who smirked as she jumped over the rim of the cage and stared down her adversary.

So, the fight commenced, as the official signalled for the bell to be rung. Karen & Bandy looked at each other, with both competitors slowly beginning to circle each other... measuring up how exactly the first shot would be put in. Naturally gung-ho in this type of environment, Banderas charged in first, looking to connect with a wild swing of his right hand.

Karen simply ducked and drove an uppercut-like punch into the Colombian's ribs, before backing off... gloating. The crowd showed how much they thought of the girl from Manchester acting high and mighty, hissing at her.

Bandy coughed for a bit, returning his attention back to Pembridge. The rhythmatic circling resumed, and this time, it was Karen who took the initiative as she lunged towards the Survivor 3 participant and cracked his face with a vile right hook, before sending him down to the canvas with a cross left. The Colombian BadArse winced as his body made contact with the ground, and he instantly decided to retaliate... with a right-legged sidekick from his grounded position.

Karen was alert enough to catch the boot of Bandy and chuckled, feeling lucky.

However, the Man Of A 1000 Thongs didn't give up -- he used his LEFT leg and connected with Karen's shin.

The Lassie staggered backwards, growling at the pain her shin was experiencing. With the crowd now solidly behind him, Banderas rose to his feet and ran at Karen. However, Karen's expertise was far greater than Bandy's, and the result was the Colombian being lifted onto Karen's shoulders and having his spine probably broken, as it crashed into the rim of the cage, with the right side of his body scraping against the steel mesh that made the cage so deadly.

Surely, Pembridge must have been going for a ring-out but Banderas was laid out on the canvas nonetheless;

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

8.

In the back, Matthew Karst emitted a huge sigh of relief, and a huge pop was generated as Banderas somehow lifted his carcass off the mat, determined not to lose the fight so easily. Karen advanced stealthily towards her opponent and let fly with two quick kicks to the Colombian BadArse's left leg, following up with a nasty knee-smash into his abdominals.

And seconds thereafter, a stunning move where Karen Pembridge executed a spinning DDT-like move, drilling Bandy's face into the ground. With an added dimension of brutality, as she drove her clenched right fist into the kidney area of her adversary, to simply make sure that he'd have a tougher time in getting time.

Already, the crowd had a sinking feeling;

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

8.

9.

Quite unbelievable.

Banderas had scrapped his way up to his feet, but could barely balance himself. Karen was somewhat livid that the Colombian was still very much in the fight, but didn't show it and kept her cool. In fact, she smiled as she noticed Bandy limping towards the structure of the cage, holding on to the rim to keep himself up.

Nodding her head slightly, Pembridge started to pick up speed.

Advancing towards Banderas with that all-too-familiar glint in her eyes.

And as Banderas turned around...

*SMACK*

*THUD*

Running roundhouse kick, that had sent Banderas flying over the top of the cage, and out of it.

"HOLY SHIT!"
"HOLY SHIT!"
"HOLY SHIT!"
"HOLY SHIT!"

Somewhat faint, but still audible. It didn't matter, however. Karen Pembridge raised her arms in the air as "Faultine" by Saliva started up over the arena's speakers again. The victory had been easily attained, and it was doing wonders for her reputation. Exiting the cage, she sniggered at the limp body of the Colombian.

In the back, Matthew Karst cursed loudly.

He & Bandy... were still jobless.

"Alright." Frank replied as he sat before Joe, taking a quick glace over at Thanh Vactor who stood beside Campbell like a statue ready to spring to life if called upon "What's with the ice pack?"

Frank pointed at the ice pack Campbell had firmly pressed against his jaw "Got attacked by a wild animal." Joe grunted back before removing the pack and rubbing his jaw "Might need to get it put down if you know what I mean, but before we get into that I just want to thank you for the top job you did at Fight Hell, broken arm... stroke of genius."

Frank didn't look to comfortable with the praise he was receiving "Was always on the cards, poor guy was well out of his league."

"Yep." Joe replied "So I'm a man of my word... I told you that if you could stick Lucifer on the shelf I'd open the door and give a few of your reccomendations a shot at joining us in our little operation, I heard just a few minutes ago that one of the guys has already arrived but nothing on the second yet. I'll get ahold of the first chap and sign him up as soon as possible."

"Sounds good." Frank said with a nod "So you going to tell me what I need to do?"

Joe shifted in his seat before clasping his hands together "Token Weed... you may have heard of him, he's a cunt and also the guy that brought about my need for an ice pack. He's booked in a match later tonight that I need for him to lose in fact scratch that... I don't want him to make it at al-"

"Easily done." Frank cut in.

"You would think so." Joe continued "But be careful, he's already edgy tonight... I knew I had to speak to you because he's going to be expecting someone from Team Campbell. As of yet he has no reason to suspect you so if you could get to him as soon as possible and involve him in an accident... that'd be great."

"No problem." Frank confirmed as he got out of his seat and quickly made his way out of the room.

Joe sat back and smiled to himself, another one was about to bite the dust.

"Karen."

The Lassie spun around, instantly on guard. She'd been a little too lost in her thoughts and didn't hear anyone coming up behind her. A rare slip on her part. But as she turned to face the mountainous Nick Brandish, she had this feeling that she couldn't afford lower her guard very much in the future.

"Nick," Karen started as she saw the look of disapproval on his face. "What?"

He handed her a slip of paper without saying a word. It was a piece of a police report, briefly outlining how Karen had assaulted a Mr. Walter Emul outside an unnamed arena a while back. Karen skimmed the report and recalled the incident, where she'd delivered an ugly beating on Walter after he'd made a rather lewd comment towards her. Naturally his comment wasn't on the report, and since Walter never pressed formal charges Karen was never brought to court. She handed the page back to Nick. "What about it?"

"Did it happen?"

"Well, yes it did. What about it?"

"That's all I needed to know."

Nick crammed the paper into his pocket and walked past Karen. Walter had been one of Nick's informants. On the night of the assault, a semi-intoxicated Walter saw Karen, who bore a striking resemblance to one of the girls Nick had working for him, and propositioned her for fifty dollars. After Karen beat him silly, Walter thought Nick had set him up. To get his revenge, he gave Nick some bad information which almost got Nasty Nick killed. Even after he killed Walter, Nick wondered who the woman was that almost helped get him killed.

A confused Karen Pembridge watched the big man leave. "What was that all about then?" she thought to herself.

If only she knew the ramifications...

He quickly lifted the cup to his mouth and downed the water loudly. He wiped his mouth as he forced his eyes shut. The images of societal misfits, drugs, and general filth couldn't escape his mind. He had always dealt with what he was handed in life, and Asylum would be no different. He would learn to adapt eventually.

"Glugg ... Glugg"

Ramis jolted with surprise. He looked back and saw water bubbles climb the plastic water jug. He was a little jumpy, and rightfully so. The Asylum's atmosphere caught him off guard. It was worse than he could had ever imagined. The atmosphere was astringent and unhealthy, but more importantly, it was harshly uncivilized. The fighters that walked around weren't human, or fighters for that matter. They were punkish rejects.

"Alright pal."

Joe Campbell. Chester turned around.

"So, whaddya think of this shithole?" Joe joked. Chester was ready to give him an earful, but he didn't. He just stared blankly around the room as if he hadn't heard the question.

"You feelin' alright?"

"Oh, me?" Chester asked innocently. He flashed a faux smile before continuing, "I'm fine, Joe."

"That's good to hear. Don't want to see any of my new boys falling ill, come in here a second?" Joe asked impatiently as he signaled Chester to a small cement room. Chester followed him inside and shut the door behind him.

"I'd like you to have this," Joe said as he pulled an envelope from his hands and placed it in Ramis' hands. Chester tore it open, and found $3000 divided up in various incriments. He looked up and frowned at Campbell.

"I don't understand."

"What do you yanks call it?" Joe said as he rubbed his furrowed eyebrows. "Signing bonus? Ah, yeah...that's it, do as you're told and there'll be plenty more where that came from."

"I can't take this, I haven't even fought yet," Chester reasoned as he tried to give it back. Joe reached out and resisted, pushing Ramis' hand back.

"Take it. I know you don't like the looks of this place. But this is just a token of my appreciation to another Ff fighter making the switch. Pretty soon, you'll be one of my biggest assets. Just trust me, Chester."

"Trust you? I can hardly trust myself." Chester declared. He was serious, but Joe laughed anyways. Chester grimaced and headed for the door.

"You, me, and the rest of your mates are gonna clean up this organization, remember that!" Joe shouted at his departing minion.

Banderas looked down at the ground, disappointed and confused. Disappointed, because he himself knew how atrocious he was whilst fighting Karen. The Lassie schooled him, and made sure that she finished him off the best way she could -- by kicking him out of the ring. Confused, because he didn't quite know why he and his teenaged partner were being forced out of the building. In his mind, due to the propaganda he'd been fed by Matthew, they were fighters.

Fighterrs with contracts.

So, in Bandy's mind, he wasn't out of a job.

Matthew struggled to come up with a proper reasoning for this event. Partly due to how angry he was. He couldn't believe that his dimwitted partner couldn't take care of a WOMAN. Sure, he had sisters... but a female fighter? It was absurb to him. Female wrestlers, yes. He had no problem with that. But for some reason, women fighting in a promotion such as tA made them appear... less special. Less attractive.

But he was still a horny teenager, anyway. He still got erect upon seeing Karen, so... it was somewhat contradictory.

Bottomline: Banderas failed, still no job.

So, what did Karst tell Bandy? That Joe found porno magazines in their locker-room and decided to suspend the duo for one night. Of course, Matthew didn't forget to add in the fact that they were most likely framed by someone jealous of their ever-rising popularity. But as we all know now, that's a load of bollocks.

"You thinking Mr Campbell will forgive us?" Bandy asked lowly, as the group of security officials started to converse amongst themselves. They were rapidly approaching the exit of the arena, and were intent of doing their job well, to possibly get cartons of beer as their reward.

Matthew scowled, and simply nodded to indicate a positive answer. He didn't feel like talking much. That's the angsty teenager for ya. He was simply boiling made at the unfairness of Joe Campbell... something that left him without a definite future in his life.

In a moment of madness, Matthew spun around and clocked the big man that was behind him, while the other two officials that were covering Banderas halted in their tracks, stunned that a breach was being attempted. Karst didn't care about the ramifications, as he kicked one of the other two guards in the gut, before running off. Banderas dropped to the ground, putting his hands behind his head, and started to babble nonsensically.

.. Wwhat he usually does when he's extremely nervous and confused.

The two guards that had been struck quickly recovered, but decided against giving chase. Instead, the three guards huddled over the trembling lifeform on Banderas on the ground, beginning an animated and agitated discussion. Finally, the only guard that wasn't hit put his right hand up in the air and growled at his counterparts.

Before producing a walkie-talkie.

"Attention. We have a rouge punk on the loose. I repeat, a punk on the loose. About 5'7", looks like a donkey's ass. Might be armed, not completely dangerous. Capture him immediately!"

Oh dear, what has Matthew Karst gotten himself into?

Thanh Vactor Vs Tommy Gunn

As "Davidian" by Machine Head hit up Tommy made his way through the curtains and down toward the Asylum, if anything tonight was in his favor it was the fact that while Thanh had been in a brutal war with Osyrus at FIGHTH3LL his match with Tyler Burton had come to an abrupt halt after the Canadian had left the Asylum to seek out a man in the crowd later to be revealed Borst.

Gunn clambered into the Asylum and "Needles" by Seether faded in to replace his music, Thanh Vactor calmly walked through the curtains paying little attention to the booing and jeering surrounding him. The vast majority booed simply because of the role he played in Team Campbell but to Thanh cheers or jeers were nothing of any importance.

The Thailand native climbed into the Asylum and threw several rapid practice jabs through the air, a sight which seemed to concern Tommy to the level where he felt an early injection of Scottish grit was required. Before the bell even rang Gunn had raced across the Asylum and tackled Thanh around the waist to drive him backwards into the mesh.

Tommy fired some rapid jabs into Thanh's midriff but they appeared to be of little effect as Vactor simply tensed up and absorbed the blows before catching Tommy with several shots that looked far more effective... driving the point of his elbow down between Gunn's shoulder blades several times.

The Scotsman backed across the Asylum arching his back in agony as Thanh weighed up his next offense, it was cut short however as Gunn brought another piece of street fighting into the fight with a hard headbutt that caught Thanh just below the eye, cutting him.

Once again however the Muay Thai trained fighter seemed to be effected by the hard shot very little, shaking his head from side to side and wiping the blood from his eyes Thanh stepped back a little, deciding to use defence as the better form of attack by letting Gunn make the next move, Tommy obliged by running forth but was caught by a huge kick from the side by Thanh that first knocked his right leg off the floor then caught his left in the horizontal motion and knocked him down to the canvas.

Struggling up Tommy tried to throw a punch at Thanh but he managed to duck beneath and blow and send a wicked punch right into Gunn's kidneys. As the Glasgow native clutched his side in agony he left himself open to yet another incisive Vactor shot as Thanh caught him right in the mouth with a spinning backfist.

Bleeding from the lip Tommy made another desperate lunge for Thanh, this time trying to hit him with a trademark Gunnshot spear... Thanh quickly stepped aside of the raging Scotsman however and embarrassed him further by catching him in the backside with a quick shoving kick that knocked him head first into the Asylum rim.

Tommy turned back to get to his feet but was met with by far the most brutal hit of the fight. A running knee from Thanh that met him right in the face and crushed his head into the Asylum mesh behind him.

Gunn's nose popped in a shower of blood upon impact as the Scotsman desperately tried to get out of his predicament, a second, third and finally fourth knee to the face ensured that he was going nowhere but the land of the unconscious.

Thanh stepped away from Gunn who was now moving barely on the canvas, eyes quickly blackening and swelling shut the official made a ten count that nobody in the arena had any doubt was going to take place.

"Needles" by Seether hit up again and Thanh made his way to the back, not a celebratory gesture in his body despite a truly convincing victory.

Eager to see what havoc he'd forcefully created in his own little game of Asylum Big Brother, Joe Campbell arrived outside the locked door that contained Lucas and Gage Braydon. Out of instinct, Joe flinched as a crash was heard the other side of the wood... A crash that had no time to be lonely before the aftershocks came.

"I love this fucking gig," he grinned as the lock gave a satisfying CLUNK! to make it's unlocking audible.

The door swung open to reveal a scene of destruction.

"My, my... What have you boys been up to?" Joe smirked, watching the physical battle continue, the room and it's furniture being the main casualties.

Both Lucas and Gage ignored the instigator as he stood with arms crossed in the doorway, revelling in their violence, and instead concentrated only on each other.

Under Joe's entertained gaze, Gage gripped the remnants of a wooden chair in his fists, swinging it in a graceful arc... Which ended as Lucas' back and shoulders proved more durable, the wood breaking apart at the joints as Lucaselli nearly collapsed. Gage looked to his right hand, where the leg of the chair was still held...

His contemplation didn't last long.

...The leg was then viciously hammered down into the back of Lucas' skull, buckling the Voice of Reason's legs under him.

*Applause*

Joe was loving this; His own private bout.

Before Lucas could collapse fully to the floor, his decent altered course due to a kick from Gage that connected brutally with the side of his head. The sound of air being forcefully expelled from Nick's lungs could be made out as he landed on his back, body jolting on the hard floor.

"C'mon you fucking pussy, he ain't even bleeding yet!"

Joe Campbell - Cheerleader.

Brayden was quick to throw himself down onto Lucas, trying to mix pinning his 'opponent' down while delivering snapping right fists to the nose. Within seconds, the juggling of duties backfired and Lucas managed to reverse the roles... Stamping his sudden authority with a sharp elbow that cracked against Gage's eye-socket.

"Getting beaten up by that cunt-rag? The fuck is wrong with you?"

Soaring his fist up ready to strike a knock-out blow, Lucas was left temporarily defenceless.... A split second that Gage used to land a slightly under-powered uppercut that packed enough punch to knock Lucas off. With Lucas reeling, Brayden sprung up and charged, but it was scouted. As Lucas backtracked, his right hand reached out and grabbed an ashtray off the one small table that remained standing.

"BRAIN HIM!" hollered Joe, loving the pitched battle being fought before him.

Gage leapt at Lucas with a knee.

Lucas swung the ashtray violently at Gage.

Who would connect?

*THU-CRACK!*

Both.

Brayden's knee rendered Lucas unconscious upon impact with his jaw, but the momentum of the ashtray carried it on it's course... Until it *THUD*ed against Gage's temple. Both men were out-cold as they hit the floor, Brayden crash landing into the remnants of the chair he'd broken earlier.

Neither moved...

...But Joe's hands were moving, toward one another.

He clapped.

"Bravo, fuckwads!"

A standing ovation for their furious display of violence. Joe had known what he was doing, and what would happen... He just wished he'd got back earlier to see more of his little game in action.

But, not even he can have EVERYTHING he wants.

Joe closed the door and walked off with a satisfied smile on his face.

That was fun.

"You gonna budge newbie, or do I have to tap you aside?" Token scoffed at Frank Minio as the Nevada born fighter stood firmly in his path with his arms folded, shaking his head.

"Neither, I'm not moving and you ain't tapping me anywhere." A stern reply from Minio followed up.

Token smirked to himself and started to ball a fist but the seasoned fighter before him knew the telltale signs, before Token could even throw a punch Frank had flown at him with a wicked elbow attempt. Token was no bum either however as his quick reactions meant he was able to dodge the full brunt of the blow, getting close to Minio and tackling him into the nearest wall.

Sean Williams had been fighting for a long time and his knowledge shone through, he'd got Frank in a position where his best striking attacks were limited because of the small amount of space he had to draw back... the two had a hand around one anothers throats as Token continued to push Frank back.

THUD.

Token suddenly felt the air being driven out of his body as a stunning punch caught him in the ribs, it didn't feel like the usual strike that'd be throw by an Asylum fighter because the precision was far too accurate.

Chester Ramis had arrived on the scene and Token's trouble had just been doubled. Token staggered back from Minio gasping for air as Ramis advanced but Token quickly put him on ice, sending a blow below his belt that as a trained fighter he wasn't truly expecting... as Ramis doubled over Token lunged forward and managed to catch Minio in the ribs with a knee.

"Fuck this." Token coughed to himself still recovering from the punch and turning to leave the scene.

He never got very far.

SMACK.

A 6'6" and 310lb obstacle lay in his path. Only it wasn't stationary because it'd quickly grabbed Token by the hair and whipped him into the nearest wall with such force that the plaster had dented under the impact.

Sean Williams fell to the ground amongst fragments of wall and plaster dust that floated in the air. As he tried to recover the newest arrival on the scene picked him up and locked both of his arms.

Umaga Reihana had left Token Weed completely open. Frank Minio and Chester Ramis wasted no time in rushing in and delivering their worst, taking turns to hit Token furiously in the ribs as he tried to kick out at them... each shot was measured precisely however and soon he didn't have a kick left in him.

The man also known as The Fijian Lion released his tight grasp on Token who stumbled forward breathless and was totally without guard as Frank Minio delivered the Flatlined punch right to his temple.

Token went down and stayed down as the three attackers all looked at one another, they didn't know why but they all felt like they'd met before... perhaps a visit to Joe Campbell would reveal the answers.

Nobody would take his offer, but Joe Campbell was damn sure he’d find someone for the job by the end of the night. Fortunately for him, he knew the perfect person. A wildcard, but Joe was getting used to throwing down that card. And really if this man was willing to bet the entire Asylum away, did it really look like he cared?

Joe smugly nodded from behind a business paper. He didn’t know of a better way to take care of a cop than with their own kind. Nicole Carson, ex-cop and now full time Asylum fighter, leaned against the wall, staring unimpressed as Joe put the paper down.

“If this is about the lack of whores around here...than I’m gone already.”

“No, no, that’s not it.” Joe said as he stood from the desk. “The reason you’re here is a little more important. It’s funny that when a job requires the most balls around here...I’m asking someone with none to help out.”

She still didn’t seem all that impressed. “Yeah, well, I’m having a problem with my PMS today, so if you could just move ahead, I think it’d be best for the both of us.”

Joe nodded.

”Looks like that cunt Tommy Gunn couldn’t do it, but I don’t expect you to have any trouble, being a cop yourself. I need you to go and take care of Nicholas Quaid. The fucker thought he could fuck with me and stay alive, well he’s wrong. You gotta teach him how fucking wrong he is.”

Nicole knew this kind of job didn’t come without a prospect. “That’s all fine. But I’m not the type who does a favor without expecting a favor back.”

He was waiting for that. “Of course, you’ll get a nice bonus once you come back with his head.”

”All right, I’ll do it.” Nicole said, approaching the desk.

Joe handed her the said paper as he suspiciously guided her towards the door. It didn’t take that long to read. The directions were blunt and to the point.

”You’ll find everything you need on there. He’s staying on some resort island...the fuckers probably getting massaged right now. Send him packing and don’t come back till’ you do. Just business.”

Nicole looked at him one final time before stuffing the paper inside her pocket. She walked out the door.

”Count it already done.”

After the footsteps faded away, he slammed the door behind her.

”Then it’s settled...just business.”

" I thought the people from Boston would be especially smarter than that; with your stupid, stuck up fucking accents. Everytime I hear it, makes me want to punch all of you in the fucking face at once. Just like another muthafucker I know... named Thanh. But you look at the pay per view and say to yourselves; what a match! Osyrus v. Thanh. The best fucking wrestler alive v. a bad mother fucker, that could drop anyone with a drop of a hat.. from the otherside of the world. And if in your hearts, you think it was so great... you should kick your own ass, because it wasn't!" The eruption got louder the more Osy taunted the Mass. home crowd. He started making his way down the aisle; stepping into Asylum fighting arena... microphone well in hand.

"Think to yourselves; why would Thanh waste time playing around.. when he could have finished the match early? He's dumb, like all of you here! I guess I bring out the worst in people; but being a dumbass don't help much either does it? Expect that to happen again. But don't expect me to go easy on that fecker..." Osyrus bounced around rythmically in the cage; shooting his fists straight out, throwing punches. "Next time, I'll squash him like an asian cockroach; leaving juice stains all over this god damn canvas. And you better believe that playa."

"But what if Kinkade would have won the match? What if he wanted to end the Asylum; the place where he made his name famous... just as much as he wanted his precious Immortal title back. Would I be standing here looking at your ugly ass faces; insulting your lack of intelligence and making a mockery of everything you believe in?" Osyrus paused as he stood silently and reflected.

"Probably so," He lifted his head smirking.

"It wouldn't be so bad. Campbell could start all over; bring in new, untapped fighters, like yours truly. Not as good but decent." Osyrus chimmed in, so the fans didn't forget how good he thought he was. "Fighters that could actually do some good for the new incarnation that would arise. No more bullshit from people that can't handle competing like Ricky Wasp and Fatts. No more fighters that can't even fight their way out of a paper bag like Borst did at Fight Hell. What a joke. What a lame performance for the guy that is trying to get people to join his fed, BWF. You want the fed to really be over Pete?" Osyrus flicked the tip of his nose with his right thumb, he flexed his muscles arrogantly... "All you have to do is sign me up Petey. Not that I would actually join that piece of crap fed, but atleast my name recognition would bring in more losers. The best wrestler walking god's blood stained earth, and I don't even need the Immortal and Asylum titles to join any fed I wanted." There was an insult in there somewhere; as the fans chattered to each other, eyebrows raising... they just
couldn't but their fingers on it.

"In all seriousness; I'm a fan of Kellen Kinkade, stealing his lines, catchphrases and moves. I'm a fan of the great Joe Campbell, admiring his competitve spirit... and last of all, I am a fan of Aimz's sweet cheeks," he smirked briefly, before he started right up... "But I hate the rest of you with a passion. And that's the other reason why I came to the Asylum. Joe wanted to build an army to whip tA into fighting shape.. so who better to be the first recruit than the man that spent his whole career making the wrestling industry worth watching? 'The personfication of talent' , 'A legend in the Making', and 'The fighter of an never ending moment'... Osyrus. That's who. Now that Team Campbell has resurfaced better than ever before; there will be no one who has a set big enough to cross Mr. Campbell. And if someone wants to try their luck... I'll be happy to be the one to prove to them; that when they bet against the house... The dice will always come up, snake eyes." Osyrus left the cage; he made his hasty exit back to Joe's side...

"Always comes up snake eyes."

But rather another newly formed group.

"Call it a side project if you like." Joe spoke as he parted the curtain to more intense booing "Some of you have pointed it out and others have merely speculated but it's time to confirm...

...yes, I'm bleeding out the losers." He said with a smile "You see this is a fighting establishment but we've always been a bit rough around the edges, first we had hordes of washed up wrestlers who couldn't fight for shit but a couple of rough folk from the streets quickly weeded them out."

Joe stopped for a moment to take a few steps forward.

"Of course that's just swallowing the spider to catch the fly, you solve one problem but create another in the same process... now we've got the problem of too many rough undisciplined folk running around not doing as they're told and basically getting me in trouble, the solution? Come on down lads."

A second or two passed before three figures passed through the curtain and stood behind Campbell.

Frank Minio.

Chester Ramis.

Umaga Reihana.

"I'd like to introduce to all of you my side project or if you will... clean up operation, Flatlined."

The crowd were torn with regard to how to react, while they hated Joe with a passion they'd taken a liking to Frank Minio's impressive and convincing fights thus far and the new additions Reihana and Ramis looked to be in equally good shape.

"They'll... you'll have to excuse the pun, weed out those who don't belong here anymore and basically bring a little profesionalism to the way things are done around here. Clean, crisp and precise... they're going to clean this shithole up."

Joe paused.

"That's all I have to say apart from to mention that there will yet be more additions to this team... you can go back to eating your hotdogs now you fat Boston cunts." Joe finished as he ushered the three men into the back and left the jeering crowd behind.

...

Well, he would.

Keeping a watchful eye out for anybody that was surely looking for him, Matthew rushed down to the cage admist a confused buzz of excitement, with a microphone in his hand. The teenager looked even angrier than he was a while ago, and it appeared as if he had something to get off his chest.

Stepping inside, Matthew paced around for a bit, trying to collect his thoughts. The blinding rage had impaired his cognitive framework for a bit, and once again, he was having difficultly breathing. But finally, he calmed himself down and raised the mic to his mouth, aware that Joe Campbell's goons were probably going to rush out at any second.

"Alright, this is bullshit, Joe! You know that Bandy can't really FIGHT well but you forced him into a bout with OUR contracts up for grabs. That's fucking unfair! And why? Because I acted like a dick to you? Well, half of this place acts that way to you and you still suck them off.

So what gives, huh?

Oh, I know. I've been hearing about this for a while.

It's because we were in Survivor, right? The eff-dubya-ohh, right? You view it as some kind of hellhole, because you hate wrestling and the fWo is, undoubtedly, the top of the wrestling world. Well, FUCK YOU! I would think that after what that Kinkade and Borst did, defecting over to the fWo, you would welcome those who were defecting from there!

I mean, come on! An eye for an eye! Look at LoD! They sold out. They wanted out of this joint so that they could concentrate on their Survivor chances, and now, they've crashed out! THEY SOLD OUT.

Now, I'm not leaving this cage until I get a fair chance to earn the contracts. Yeah, fucker, you heard me correctly! I'm challenging anyone to a fight. If I win, Joe, you're going to have to give Bandy and myself the chance to work here. Sort of a trial period -- a temporary contract, until we figure out a FAIR way to see if we can assimilate ourselves into this company!

So, anybody in the back wants a piece?!"

Throwing the microphone down, Matthew resumed his uncomfortable pacing, as he had his eyes fixated on the stage. The spectators in the Fleet Center began to cheer loudly, liking the look of Matthew Karst and the guts he displaying in slagging Joe Campbell off.

Also, they had a chance to enjoy another fight.

Question was, did anybody answer Matthew's challenge?

Matthew Karst Vs Sebastian Thompson

And at once the crowd that was slowly getting behind former Survivor contestant Matthew Karst, turned into boos, as Sebastian Thompson made his way into the arena. The Phoenix broke out into a full fledged grin, as he walked down the ramp. He measured up Karst as he ran up the ring steps, and his grin grew even wider. Sebastian knew for sure that this was how he was going to prove to Joe once and for all that he was worthy of the spot in Team Campbell. Thompson walked the perimeter of the cage, and snatched up the mic, and to the fans enjoyment he tossed it out the ring. He bounded off the cage eyeing up the much smaller wrestler.

“You’re outta your league kid, I’ll let you go right now. You know you don’t want to fight me, and I don’t blame you.” Sebastian walked over and opened the cage door, and motioned for Karst to make his way out. The crowd buzzed in confusion as the former Survivor made his way towards the opened door, the moment his foot touched the apron, he turned and smacked Thompson in the jaw with a jumping uppercut knocking the Phoenix back a few steps. Karst charged forward slamming his shoulder into Sebastian’s gut, driving his opponents back into the rim. Matthew had his hands locked on the rim and slammed his should two more times knocking the air from Thompson’s lungs.

Karst tried charged back again, but this time he ran and caught a face full of boot knocking him back slowly. Waiting for the perfect moment, Sebastian finally charged forward and leveled the diminutive Karst with a clothesline. Thompson reached at his neck and in one swift moment removed both his hooded sweatshirt and his leatherjacket. He grabbed the sleeve of the jacket tightly, and swung..

*SLAP!*

Karst darted forward gritting his teeth together as he cringed at the sharp pain caused from the leather. Thompson walked over and sat down hard on the back of Karst and he wrapped the jacket-sweatshirt combo tightly around the teen’s neck, pulling back sharply. Karst’s face tightened, as the Phoenix tattoo on Thompson’s back flexed as he tightened his grasp. Immediately the referee was down asking Karst if he quit, but the Survivor showed he had what it took and refused attempting to push himself out of the predicament, but a crossface shot from Thompson stopped his fight knocking him back down. Thompson got back to his feet and tossed his jacket to the outside, he crouched down waiting for the youngster to get back to his feet. When he didn’t get up fast enough, Sebastian grabbed a head and pulled the youth up to his feet only to receive a fist right to Homer and the boys!

Karst got up and had no idea what to do, he wasn’t a wrestler even though he was one half of the Survivor III tag-team Enlightened. Finally as the thoughts rattled through his head, Karst knew he had to do what he could, he was fighting for the contract Bandy failed to secure earlier tonight. Sebastian trying to will the pain out of the frank and beans, felt himself receive a DDT from Karst! The ref made the count..

1...

2...

3...

Sebastian was up on his feet, and he charged forward, Karst ran forward with a spear, but surprisingly the un-athletic Thompson leapfrogged Karst. Both men turned at the same time and Karst methodically walked towards Thompson, highly uncharacteristic for the Miami, Florida native. Thompson swung and nailed Karst with a Heart punch! Matthew Karst stumbled backwards clutching his chest, Thompson charged in and hit the Survivor with a Jawbreaker! Thompson didn’t have a wide array of moves in his own arsenal so he watched shocked as Karst, the only person with less of an arsenal than him, dropped to the ground. The ref went for a count, but Thompson held him off yanking Karst to his feet. Immediately he sent him towards the cage wall with an Irish whip! Thompson charged in and splashed Karst against the wall! Thompson eased off and watched as Karst slid down the wall.

Thompson grabbed onto the back of Karst head and sent repeated knees to the head busting his nose open. Sebastian rose to his feet turning his back to Karst, and listened as the ref ran to Karst, Seb raised his hands to the crowd giving them the double phoenix. The crowd booed intensely.

1...

2...

3...

4...

The crowd got so loud that the Phoenix assumed that the match was over, he turned slowly seeing a form headed his direction, Thompson knew it was the ref ready to raise his hand. But as Thompson turned he was nailed with a dropkick to the center of chest which sent him shuttling backwards and out of the open cage door!

Sebastian collapsed on the floor jumping to his feet instantaneously, and the crowd roared in approval. “On My Mind” blared over the PA system signaling Karst’s victory. Sebastian wanted to climb back into the ring and exact revenge, but he was too disappointed in himself, he snatched up a chair at ringside and started slamming it on the announce table, as he screamed obscenities. Discarding the chair, Sebastian furiously stormed to the back, but as he walked up the ramp security charged passed him into the ring with their sites set on Matthew Karst.

The youngster tried to run, but more security charged in from the crowd and at once and began to beat on the Survivor with Billy clubs, the others began to stomp the Miami native. The crowd booed, as Karst was getting an Enlightenment, Asylum style. So, on a rollercoaster night for Matthew Karst, it ended with him learning two valuable lesson.

1, you do not tell Joe Campbell what to do.

2, you do not fuck around with Joe Campbell.

"Can I come in?" A voice yelled from the other side of the door.

Joe looked up from his paper work and glared a hole through the finely furbished wooden door. "No."

Not taking any notice the door swung open. Reggie Harrison-Willis strutted in.

"Not you again." Joe groaned under his breath. "What part of ‘No’ don’t you understand?"

"I didn’t understand why you’d say ‘No’ to me, so I guessed you didn’t know who was behind the door. So I just pranced on in. I knew you’d be glad to see me."

"Leave."

"Well anyway I never got round to telling you about my idea. For the centre of the Asylum we can have a huge photo of my eyes. Looking at the people in it."

"Fuck Off."

"It’ll be like I’m watching them."

"GET OUT OF MY FUCKING OFFICE, YOU CUNT!" Joe Campbell stood up in rage. Roaring until he was red.

"Ummm… OK." RHW cautiously started to take baby steps out of Joe’s office. "I’ll catch you later!"

Reggie turned round to see Joe reach under the table. He heard a metallic ‘click’. RHW automatically assumed it was a Gun and jumped out of the room.

The door swung open. Mercy poked her head into the room. "Did I just hear my name?" she asked as she walked in. She looked at the furniture, stopping beside Karen. "I just love what you've done to the place - decorated in 21st century slut."

Lucinda stood up as Karen stepped towards Mercy. "Get out," Scott said sternly. "Or the only way you'll leave this room will be feet first. Nick!"

The toilet flushed in the bathroom, and Nick Brandish stepped out. "Yeah?"

"Would you please escort this tramp to the parking lot?" Lucinda's smile was filled with malice. "Oh, and while you have her out there, leave her in a pool of her own blood, please."

Nick rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, about that. We're done."

Karen and Lucinda both turned to look at Brandish. Karen cocked an eyebrow. "S'cuse me?"

"What, did eating all that snatch make you deaf?" Brandish spat at Karen. He turned to Lucinda. "My debt is paid up. We're done doing business."

Lucinda was stunned. "But, but I don't understand. What's going on here?"

Mercy walked over to Nick and rested her head on his shoulder. "His eyes have been opened." She stared venomous daggers at Karen. "Let's see you try me now, cupcake. I'm daring you, begging you, to try something."

"Not here," Brandish said firmly. "Not now. But soon enough." Nick walked past the two women, Mercy following him with a large smirk on her face.

The room was silent as the door slowly closed. Lucinda blinked, still in shock at the turn of events. "She's got Nick? How? What happened?"

Karen thought back to her conversation with Nick earlier and felt a momentary sick feeling in her stomach. She already had her hand full dealing with Mercy. But if she had to worry about a four hundred pound monster as well...

Sometimes, that unquenching urge to fight really did seem like a huge problem. And in this case, because the Lassie simply couldn't resist, Karen & Lucy had found themselves in what is appropriately termed as...

Deep shit.

Eddie Cheno fumed above Joe Campbell, his hands ripping away at his sides, with his bloodshot eyes dead set on the enemy. His fists slammed against the desk, rocking Joe’s nameplate and sprawling papers along the floor.

“Wat da funk be dis mang? Settin yaself up for another Clearin’ da funken table?”

Joe tried to shove his anger down, though it was still clearly visible on his face. “Listen, maybe we can put the past behind us for a moment. There’s other matters to attend to. Because you know Eddie, you’re still my slave...I still pay you and you still come to me to get paid. At least fucking listen to what I have to say.”

With one flinch, Eddie Cheno already had a handful of Joe Campbell’s shirt. His neck veins leaping out from his skin, Joe Campbell tried his best to keep his cool as Eddie choked him with clenched fists.

“Nah ya funken listen, Campbell. I’m da funken TV Champion now. Ya gotta do what I say. Not the other way around.”

“Let go of me. I got my bodyguards out of here so I could talk to you alone, but I’ll call them back on your stoned ass if you want.”

Eddie’s grip loosened...then tightened as Joe tried to squirm for air.

”Tell me wat ya funken want then. Just tell me wat da funk ya want already. I told ya at Fighthell dat I don’t like bein FUCKED wit. And then ya know wat happened, Campbell. Better hurry, I’m feelin a replay comin on. Pretty soon I might not funken care bout what you want. I might just care bout funken ya up!”

Gagging, Joe could barely talk. “There was nobody left for the job...you were the last person on the list, believe me...I wouldn’t want a cunt like you. Anyway...there’s some cops on my side...I need you to protect them. Please...let me... fucking...talk!”

Eddie obliged, with a shove.

”Like I was trying to fucking say...I need you to protect these cops. Or else nobody will be getting any paychecks anymore, not even me. The job’s easy. Just make sure they stay alive and then come back here after a couple days. They’re on some island resort. Fuck if I know. There’s a paper somewhere in that brilliant mess you made on the floor.”

“And if I do dis what da funk I be gettin?

Joe was waiting for that. “Of course, you’ll get a nice bonus once you come back. And wait, there’s another stipulation. I’ll never interfere in any of your affairs until the day I die.”

He picked up a paper from the mess and handed it to Eddie. It didn’t take that long to read. The directions were blunt and to the point.

”All right, I’ll help ya out but only because I want ta put this to rest.” As he began to leave, Eddie suddenly turned around.

Joe’s skull indented the wall from a fist, cracks branching out from where his head slammed against it. Eddie practically pulled him onto the desk by his hair, bringing him up close to him, so he could hear every word.

”But if ya fuck with me again, Campbell, you won’t be there to see the Asylum survive.”

He dropped him limply and walked towards the door. While his footsteps faded away, Joe muttered on top of the desk and slowly crawled his way off. Stumbling onto his feet, he shut the door behind him.

A smile slipped past the bruises and a glint shone in his one good eye.

“Cheno/Carson two. Hopefully the bullet won’t miss this time.”

Joe sat back down, money signs flashing in his eyes.

Token Weed Vs August Monday
(First Blood Fight)

Unless you were Token Weed.

Sean Williams had seen Team Campbell in an up close and personal way before, he'd been Joe Campbell's right hand man and he knew exactly what it entailed. It was largely dirty work... crimes to brutal that even Joe knew the chances of being caught and punished for them were high.

Token didn't want to go back to that, the last time he'd defied Joe Campbell he'd almost been forced into losing his place as an Asylum fighter at seVered 2002. A last minute plan to frame Joe Campbell for a murder had swung in his direction and saved his future with the company. Token and Campbell had never seen eye to eye since that day and while the murder case had been long since buried by Campbell's lawyers and friends within the authorities the backstabbing tension was anything but six feet under.

Campbell and Williams had tried to keep out of one anothers way but when Joe came close to closing the Asylum earlier in the month Weed took it upon himself to beat some sense back into the owner, literally.

Whilst furious with Token's attack Campbell quietly grew a little more respect for Token Weed that day, respect that grew into a desire to have him back in Team Campbell, a desire that Token didn't share... but Joe would soon have Token in the group, whether it be walking of his own free will or dragged kicking and screaming by the rest of the entourage.

As Joe sat up in the crowd in his own personal seating area amongst the rest of Team Campbell he knew that tonight was going his way no matter what happened, if August made Token bleed then Token would have to join the faction and if Token made August bleed he'd win...

...but probably not in the long run.

"Bury Me" by hed(PE) hit up and August Monday made his way through the curtain to a round of booing and jeering from those in attendance, whilst August hadn't done anything to make himself immediately hated upon his arrival he'd sided with Campbell and in light of current events that was enough.

A raised hand of acknowledgment to the rest of Team Campbell garnered August more heat as he clambered into the Asylum and awaited the arrival of his opponent, an opponent who wasn't expected to appear at all after the beating he'd taken at the hands of yet another Campbell side project, Flatlined.

"Halo" by Soil.

Everyone looked to the curtain including Campbell, who's face suddenly grew shocked as the figure of Token Weed staggered through the curtain screaming to the crowd's delight "You will not fucking win this, Campbell!"

Token continued to struggle down the aisle with a microphone in hand... favouring possible cracked ribs very heavily after the precise shots he'd taken from the Flatlined fighters.

"You want to see blood? You'll get blood even if I have to rip this fuckers head off with my bare hands." Token roared again as the crowd continued to cheer, he dropped the microphone and started to clamber into the Asylum only to be met by August half way.

The crowd's cheering quickly turned back to boos as Monday grabbed a handful of Token's hair and dragged him the rest of the way into the Asylum, bashing him in the face with wicked punches as the crowd looked on concerned, one cut under the eye, one bloodied nose or popped lip and Token's days as a free man were over.

Token desperately tried to fight back by throwing a few shots of his own, some of which connected with the side of August's head prompting him to release the grasp he had on Token's hair. As Williams tried to recover August took a run up and sent several crushing knees upward into his ribs.

It ws there and then that Token knew his ribs were cracked, he fell to his knees and desperately choked back the blood that he could feel coming up his throat from internal bleeding, one cough and he was beat.

Williams struggled up to his feet but was met upon stance by The Raging Fear, who grabbed him by the shirt and sent him staggering back into the Asylum mesh and rim. He followed up with a combination that he called the Raging Bull, rushing at Token like a bull that'd seen red as he smashed his body into him before sending several furiously driven shouders into his ribs.

Token staggered out into the middle of the Asylum and looked as though he was going to cough until something occurred that completely snatched all of the attention away from the fight.

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.

The annoying screech airhorn being let off at ringside, all eyes turned to the figure clutching it as he raised a megaphone to his mouth.

"HEY JOE, I HOPE THIS IS A GOOD TIME BECAUSE I WANTED TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT THE SETUP WE HAVE HERE." Reggie Harrison-Willis screamed before raising the horn into the air again.

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.

"I WANT TO SCRATCH THE IDEA ABOUT HAVING MY EYES IN THE CENTRE OF THE ASYLUM, INSTEAD I THINK WE SHOULD PROBABLY GO WITH MY ENTIRE FACE AND JUST CHANGE THE SHAPE OF THE STRUCTURE FROM A CIRCLE TO SOMETHING THAT CLOSELY RESEMBLES MY HEAD!"

Joe leapt to his feet and started furiously waving his arms about in the air whilst shouting abuse. Reggie put a hand across his brow to try and make out better what Joe was saying and doing.

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.

"CELEBRATIONS?" Reggie roared.

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.

"I'M GLAD YOU LIKE THE IDEA."

Joe finally procured a microphone and shouted "Kick his fucking ass Monday, then get on with the match!"

August started to make his way out of the Asylum to get rid of Reggie whilst the official tried to stop him, neither of them saw Token Weed pull a switch blade from his jeans and slice right across his knuckles before concealing it again.

As August turned back to Token he took a hard kick in the groin from Williams, who cleverly send a bloodied right fist straight into August's face knocking him back to the canvas. Token quickly threw his right hand under his armpit as though he was clutching his ribs as the official turned to see a misleading sight.

August Monday down on the canvas covered with blood. Despite the blood not being his own a fooled official called for the bell as "Halo" by Soil hit up on the speakers again and Token quickly dumped himself out of the Asylum and struggled up the aisle victoriously to the cheers and celebrations of the crowd behind him.

The Show came to a close with it seeming highly likely that before the next arrived...

...the Campbell shitlist would have to be updated.