Who said the Inmate's weren't running the Asylum?

"I know what you're fucking thinking." Campbell said, his eyes getting more irate behind the Elton John sunglasses he was wearing. "Well, you're wrong."

He sighed toward the mirror, before he continued onwards. "You think I don't have the fucking guts to fight a war, do you? You think that I'm just going to sit by and watch these wrestling wankers pretend to smack the shit outta one another?"

Campbell inched toward the mirror, which makes his reflection inch toward the camera.

"You're wrong."

Campbell sat back in his chair, a look of concern(?) on his face.

"I have no alternatives."

Campbell shook his head and looked at the camera. "Tonight, I'm gonna do something that even I will reg- ...wait, fuck that. Fuck that. I'm not going to regret what I have to do tonight. And I'm going to do it. Tonight."

Campbell relaxed in his chair, leaving the crowd totally confused.

But for every action…

There is a reaction…

Milo was beginning to make a lot of enemies, and was fighting out of the Asylum more then his was in it. One would think if he was wise, he would lay low and stop pissing people off…

But what exactly is the worth of an assumption?

Milo entered Key Arena boasting the same cocksure look he'd wore on his face the past month. He wasn't afraid of his enemies, and actually looked forward to fighting each and every one of them. However, if Milo had his way, it would be one at a time. Surprise attacks were becoming a personal favourite of his, the question was…

Who would be next?

"You know...."

'Asshole' chants.

"You know, you fuckers should be happy. After all, you got what you wanted right? You wanted my 'Double Champion' status to be ended...didn't you? Didn't you!? Answer me!!

Answer me, you inbred mongoloids!!" Villam looked around at marks in attendance...

"Oh. I get it. You wanted me to lose BOTH titles, right? RIGHT?"

The crowd responded with "Yes" multiplied.

"Well....TOO BAD, FUCKHEADS~! I STILL HAVE THIS TV TITLE AND I AM STILL THE GOD OF FIGHT~!"
Booing.

"Yeah, yeah...'Boo'...'Boo'...that the only thing you people know how to do. If you hate me so fucking much why don't you bring your asses down here and show me that you can actually do something about it."

To Villam's surprise someone did actually start to get up...that was before Villam lifted Almighty up onto his shoulder...

"Sit the fuck down."

The one muscular fan in attendance decided that would be a good idea. Villam continued.

"Yeah, whatever. You guys all act like......you act like....that I had some "Big Plan" and it got ruined or something. No, Dammit! No plan! Except to kick the asses of three men at once. How many of you can say that? Hmmm? How many of you can say that you have been so....brave? Courageous? Can any of you say that you have balls of steel, like mine? No. Of course not you pussies.

However, you should all know that it was not my idea. It was someone else's. I am brave, but I would never be so stupid as to think up something so stupid. You see folks...I was tricked. I listened to a man...a man who said: 'You're great Villam, you can take on 3 men at once - no problem!'...and like a fool, I listened to him. That man....is....

Jo-...Mike Westwood!

Bring your ass on down here, Mike!"

Dead Air. Mr. Westwood didn't seem to be coming from behind those curtains anytime soon....

"NOW. Right now, Mike. This is dead air. Joe doesn't like dead air. And what Joe doesn't like get removed from the Asylum. So, just get your ass out here...I just want to talk."

Now he comes out. No theme music...because well...it's Mike Westwood. He reluctantly enters the Asylum and Villam get in his face. The crowd doesn't like the looks of this. This can't be good for Mr. Westwood.

"Now, Mike...is it or is it not true that you told me that it would be a good idea to face 3 men at once at Mind Games"

Mike gulped. "Er...No. It is not true. I haven't talk-"

Villam snatched the microphone away.

"Mike...why must you fill my arena with your lies?"

"What? I'm serious....I didn't..."

"SHUSH!! LYING SACK OF SHIT!"

A hard right dropped Mike to the floor. He tried to get up but Villam kicked him in the stomach. Mike moaned in pain, but managed to get out...

"what...happened to you, Xearo?"

Villam was taken back.

"What the FUCK did you call me? I'm sick....and TIRED of people calling me....Xearo. I don't even know who the fuck Xearo is! I'm VILLAM ENDER! And you will respect me and worship me and-"

Wham another kick to Mike's Ribs.

"You know what? I don't care if you actually suggested that to me or not. Fuck it, yes...it was MY idea. But, guess who gonna catch shit for it? Yes, Mike....YOU!!"

With that Villam swung Almighty directly into Mike's chest knocking the air out of him and cracking his sternum. Villam then rolled him over onto his stomach and stood over him...taking the handle of Almighty and wrenching it under his neck. Then the monster took both of Mike's arms and propped them up onto knees executing a sort of camel's clutch.....Villam reared back and screamed....

"WHAT'S MY NAME BITCH~! WHAT IS MY MOTHER FUCKING NAME!?"

And all Mike could do is scream for God or for anyone to save him.

I AM HATED!!!

Rave Caprino stormed down to the Asylum with a steelchair in hand...hopped over the rim...and popped Villam one good time with the Steelchair! Villam feel back but swung Almighty! Rave ducked, but as he did Villam kicked the chair into his face! Villam walked toward Rave to finish him off...but Mike was holding onto his foot...Villam looked down and had an expression that could only be described as "WTFMF!?" on his face...Villam booted Mike in the teeth...looked back up...

*PUNCH PUNCH*

A right cross.

Left handed uppercut.

Sent Villam to the floor. Rave grabbed the steelchair and wailed on Villam for a few minutes before laying the chair down on Villam's face...

And giving him the skullfucking of a lifetime. Rave removed the steelchair exposing a crimson mask of blood. Rave lifted the blood caked chair to the sky as the crowd went wild with cheers...Rave looked down at a critically hurt Mike Westwood and laughed. Rave hopped the rim and started to make his exit up the ramp.....

"...wait..."

Villam's voice.

Villam struggled over to the Rim of the Asylum and used it as support to get to his feet...

"....so...fucking predictable....lemme ask you something.....

why did you take time out of your busy schedule you fuck with me? When you should've been....

...Watching Natalia?

heh heh heh...

It's 4pm.....do you know where your whore is?"

With that Villam dropped the microphone and was over taken by a fit of laughter...

...Rave Caprino headed backstage.

“What’s that?” He said, overhearing a leak of cheers coming from the stands.

And turning the corner LLB rushed into his Locker Room, slamming the door as hard as possible behind him.

Inmate smirked to himself, glancing around at Joe Campbells office. Crappy flickering flourescent lights and all.

"Yeah well you’re just lucky I didn’t shoot Nerva too. The title shouldn’t be around her skanky waist, I’d almost rather Borst take it back."

"Yeah well I think you took care of Borst didn’t you, I think we’ve seen the last of his ugly mug around here. So don’t worry about him, I told you if you stuck with me that you’d get the spot at Fight.Hell.II didn’t I?"

The look on Tyler’s face… the non-reaction, it hit most fans like a brick. Yet again in his career, Tyler had lead them into believing one thing, and then, in the best of moments, turned it around and twisted their minds. Tyler had been in on this the whole time. Setting up Roland. ‘Feuding’ with Joe Campbell. ‘Fighting’ with ArchAngel. Tyler had known all along that nothing was true.

Nothing was as it seemed.

"Listen Tyler, I saw that arse Roland come in earlier… let’s get things together… we can deal with Nerva as soon as we take care of Roland. Or else he’ll be a thorn in our asses and cost you your big chance at F.H.II, I’ve got a plan for tonight, you and him in a match… its going to be quality" Joe smirked, rubbing his hands together.

Joe was right. Tyler looked at him. It looked like Mind Games was only the beginning.

If you were to utter this name around either member of Syndication, chances are you would see a face flushed with anger or a fist speeding towards you. It was because of this man that both Adam and Hans were eliminated last week at Mind Games. They were out for his blood, but where was he dwelling?

"Vere ze fuck is he?"

Hans kicked open the bathroom stall, finding only a started news employee digesting the danish which he had consumed only hours prior to this.

"Vat ze ell?"

Krueger gave the man a cold look, before turning and exiting the bathroom. Hans stood in the hall way, and waited for his approaching companion.

"Any Luck?" Nowell asked, firmly gripping a chair in both hands.

Hans Krueger just shook his head, and the two men made their way through an adjacent doorway. A few screams could be heard, as Syndication quickly exited the ladies rest room.

"Voopsie!"

"That’s everywhere…where the hell could he be hiding?"

Syndication were growing tired of this lengthy search, and as much as they HATED Milo Samus, they could not waste the entire evening on him. Milo Samus would have to wait…

They had other targets, which they planned to make their mark upon…

Carnage Vs Syndication

"Time for me to finish the job..." trailed off Cornelius, when he noticed the Syndication locker room door was open.

Cornelius walked over to the door, and peered into the room. He looked around several seconds, before muttering:
"Where the fuck are they?"

Almost instantly, Cornelius realized where they were. Before he could react, a steel chair cracked over his back, sending him down to the cold, hard ground. Adam Nowell lifted Cornelius, and promptly rammed his head against the locker.

Cornelius began to bleed profusely from the head as Hans whispered:

"So...you like ze fact zat you are getting destroyed by us tonight, ja?"

Cornelius' eyes twitched for a second, before Hans' smile turned into a face of disgust. He sneered as Cornelius, and cracked the steel chair over Cornelius' head.

"Come on Adam, ve got work to do." said Hans, smiling at Adam, who nodded, and pulled out his chain. He began to choke Cornelius with it, using it as a restraint to drag Cornelius.

The three men headed towards the rampway of the Arena. As soon as they exited, the fans began to boo Adam and Hans for having attacked Cornelius so callously, but the two men ignored them.

Hans opened the Asylum door, and Adam tossed Cornelius into the Asylum. The fans exploded with boos as the two men entered the Asylum, and slammed the door shut.

Hans and Adam both lifted up Cornelius, and double elbowed Cornelius in the gut, and Adam hooked Cornelius's head, before he drove him onto the concrete surface, causing him to bust open more.

The referee began the knock out count, but at three Cornelius managed to gain the strength to get up. Hans smiled as Cornelius got up, and Hans began to execute the Dresden Powerhouse.

However, Cornelius ducked the kick at the last second, and shoved Hans, knocking him back against the Asylum mesh. Hans, though, was able to save him by changing his momentum forward.

Hans swung his hand, crashing it into Cornelius's chest with a powerful Heart Punch. The impact of the move caused Cornelius to sink to his knees, and then the ground.

Cornelius was lifted up by Adam Nowell, and Adam scooped him up into the air, hoping to complete his finisher, the Final Chapter. However, Cornelius got out at the last second.

Cornelius slipped behind Adam, and grabbed him, Release German Suplexing him. However, Adam grabbed onto the top of the Asylum instead of falling outside as the fans booed.

Hans kicked Cornelius from behind, and executed an inverted Dresden Powerhouse, sending Cornelius crashing forward onto the hard concrete surface of the Asylum.

At six, Adam lifted up Cornelius, and scoop him up into the air. Adam hit a Michinoku Driver I, known also as a Brainbuster DDT. Cornelius lied on the concrete, unmoving.

At nine, Adam lifted up Cornelius again, and spoke to Hans:

"Put the chair under me."

Hans smiled and nodded, going over and putting the chair under Adam. Meanwhile, Adam scooped Cornelius up, and drove him onto the chair with his finisher, the Final Chapter.

The referee made the ten count, and "Crush 'Em" blared over the PA system as Syndication won the Handicap 'Punishment' Match against Cornelius Corteia aka Carnage.

"Ve are not done vith you yet, mein herr..." said Hans to Cornelius, who was unconcious. Hans and Adam smiled, and walked outside of the Asylum to a chorus of boos and garbage, having completed their work for the week.

"They fucking suck."

"But the facts are, that ever since it started, wrestling has been shovelling shit into the minds of the fans, assuming a mind control amongst you fuckin' wankers. Well, I don't like it any more than you do."

"But those're the facts." Campbell said, an angry, concerned look on his face.

"You have to understand that, under the *WRESTLER'S* control, the Asylum... has terminal cancer. Actually, it's more like testicular cancer, considering the fact that all of these fuckin' wrestlers *HAVE NO BALLS*."

The fans booed.

"Under their control... the Asylum is going to... slowly... DIE."

"You know what to do. Oh yes, you know."

Most of the fans in attendance began to wonder if Joe Campbell was losing his mind.

Mike Malone strolled around and waved. “Hey Impetigo! Great match last week. And congrats on winning the U.K. Title; it’s been a long time coming.”

He extended his hand to Impetigo, who shook it.

“Thanks,” said Impetigo. “So we’re out here in your hometown now, huh? You excited?”

Malone smiled. “Oh, you bet. My wife and kids are here to watch the show. It’s gonna be great.” He paused and looked at his watch. “You know what? The show’s starting in ten. I should get down there in case they’ve got some pre-show instructions for me. I’ll see you around, Imp!”

“Yeah, I’ll see you around, Mike.”

Malone patted Impetigo on the shoulder and headed out towards the main entrance of the Key Arena.

She was wearing a “BITE ME” baby doll, which was increasing in sales with Nerva’s growing popularity amongst women. The rest of The Movement – Jessica, Akha, and Zoe – walked out after Nerva, all sporting Movement tank tops, which were also selling quite well.

Nerva entered the cage first. She raised both her hands in the air, one in a fist and the other holding up the Asylum Championship. After she finished posing to all sides of the arena, Akha, Zoe, and Jessica entered the cage. Zoe handed Nerva a microphone and slapped her on the ass.

Nerva whipped the title over her shoulder.

“I came. I saw. I conquered.”

Those words, once spoken by Julius Caesar, incited a mass ocean of boos.

“Yeah, I know that none of you men like it. But it happened. Live it with, assholes.” Pause for boos. “Here I am. From Houston, Texas all the way here to Seattle, Washington, I am the inter-gender, unified, undisputed Asylum Champion!”

Zoe began clapping, causing Akha and Jessica to clap, as well as the rest of the women in the arena.

“Thank you,” said Nerva. “It’s been a long time, and I’ve come a long way. But last Saturday, I did exactly what I promised to do. Borst? You’re not gonna be seeing him around. He’s gone. He’s done. It’s all about ME now; it’s all about The Movement. It took me as an individual over a year to win the Asylum Title. But you see, since discovering my true identity back in January, it only took me with the power of many THREE months to conquer the Asylum.

“Man has preached for centuries that women were weak, inferior, and incapable. But women, what you saw at Mind Games was an example of how powerful and dominant we become when we unify. Our punches become more powerful, our hearts become more determined, and our instincts become as primal as primal can get.

“Every woman behind me in this cage deserves credit. Zoe stood by my side no matter what happened, whether I was pissed on, humped by a dog, whatever. She is my love, my life, my everything. Akha, she is my monster who will destroy anything that gets in my way. Tonight, she’ll face Impetigo and continue what I’ve started: taking these damn title belts from men. And Jessica, oh, I can’t forget about my original partner in crime. She’s like a sister to me.

Loyalty is something we value greatly in the Asylum, and Jessica embodies that.”

She took a pause, and then looked over at Mike Malone at the announcer’s table. “Now, Malone, loyalty is evidently something you haven’t proven since the last time I smacked you around. You promised to put The Movement over with your shitty commentary. But you didn’t last night. Please run that video on the AsylumTron.”

The end of the Borst/Nerva match was shown, as Nerva was hoisting the Asylum Championship up high. Malone’s voice was heard.

“Oh my god. It’s finally happened – the Asylum is coming to an end! Damn Nerva! Damn The Movement! Damn it, they’ve won tonight! This is ridiculous!”

Malone shifted uncomfortably in his chair as JPP looked at him and shook his head.

“Now, what I want you to do is get into this cage, Malone. Get in here! Get the hell in here before I send Akha out to make you come in here!”

Malone put his headset down and walked around towards the door of the Asylum. He walked up the steps and entered.

“You’re useless to The Movement. What the Asylum truly needs is a new announcer. It’s time to finally get a female voice to represent us. So I’d now like to introduce you to Heather, that’s right, no last name, just Heather, because there are no last names in The Movement.”

A petite blonde with A-cup breasts walked down the aisle wearing a wine-colored blazer and a matching skirt. She took her seat beside Jean-Paul, whose eyes immediately lit up.

“Now, you’re officially out of a job,” said Nerva. “And I don’t like to waste time, so I’m gonna make this REAL quick.”
She nodded to Akha, who proceeded to deliver a Muay Thai roundhouse kick right to the back of Malone’s skull. He stumbled towards Nerva and she took him down with a lift-and-drop. Immediately, she went into the mount position and locked him into a figure-four arm bar. A maniacal look grew on her face as cranked the arm up until…

SNAP.

Fans ringside heard the bone break and immediately cringed. Nerva locked the other arm into the same arm bar and was ready to snap that arm as well. Suddenly, the fans began to cheer.

Impetigo.

He came from the back carrying a steel chair and rushed into the cage. He ducked under Jessica’s clothesline, ducked under Akha’s high roundhouse kick, and then went straight for Nerva. Nerva saw him coming, however, and quickly grabbed her belt and hopped out of the Asylum. Jessica and Zoe followed out, pulling Akha out by the arm and telling her to save her rage for later tonight in her match against Impetigo.

Impetigo threw the chair down and knelt down beside Malone as EMTs came down to the cage. Fans in Malone’s own hometown clapped as he was taken out on a stretcher.

"AH! Eddie! Man, I am VERY dissapointed in you. I mean, after all we've done for you here at the Asylum." Campbell sneered, trying to act like the father in a fucked up family. "First, you go off and decide that killing your shit self would be a good thing. Now, see, there are a few fucken hurdles there that you didn't quite think of. I mean, first off, killing yourself is so pass~ay, don't you fucken think so?"

Cheno stood on, looking at Campbell, a cold hard stare.

"Second, you didn't even have the heart to do it inside the Asylum cage! I mean, come on, the people want a show, and you blowing your fuckin' brains out would be great entertainment!" Campbell said, taking in a deep breath.

"Throw in the fact that you're a wrestler, you shoulda known I'd GLADLY send the cage crew to mop up your stupid carcass."

Cheno didn't respond, just a cold hard stare.

"And third, did you even think about anyone except yourself when you came across your little decision? You know all the legal trouble that comes after this sort of thing, did you really want to cause me so much hassle? I mean, you're not exactly an upper carder to warrent the hassle Cheno. You're just a lower card jobber, why should I waste all this time and money on you and your funeral." Campbell said, trying to look down on a man that was taller than he was.

"Damn wrestlers makin' me pay for their fucken funerals" Campbell muttered, before continuing on. "You know how much the censors would have hated that if you killed yourself on our television, yet ALONE on an interview segment. I mean, jesus, at least with Kenny Rock it was spontaniously live. I could get away with showing that." Cheno looked colder than he looked before, and Campbell noticed it. "That's not saying I wouldn't have showed your death scene, because, hell, that's some funny shit Cheno." Campbell said, elbowing the drug addict in the midsection.

Campbell began to laugh, laugh so hard it hurt at his sides. Cheno pulled out the nine millimeter from earlier in the week, pointing it right into Campbell's face. This caused Joe to quickly stop in his tracks.

"Stay da funk away from me mang."

And with that, Cheno pulled his gun down and walked out of Joe Campbell's office. Campbell's face wide in horror, before stepping back towards his desk in pure shock.

The view turned to outside the door, Cheno returning the gun to his pocket. He reached into his other side, and then his face turned into a look of concern.

"Where da funk be my shiznit..."

Cheno turned around, and began walking down the hallway, away from Campbell's office. A final shot of the Joe's office door was seen...

“Who the fuck are you and what the fuck do you want?” said Joe, without even looking up from the paperwork he was doing.

She tossed the Asylum Championship title down on his desk. “I’d watch that tone, Joe. This is your fucking champion you’re talking to. THE fucking champion. To be honest, I’m not here for much. I just wanna talk money.”

Joe reclined in his chair. “Money?”

Nerva slammed her palms against his desk. “Yes, money. I was checking out the Asylum’s payroll journal last night, and I noticed that Borst is at the top of it. He’s making the most money, yet he’s a useless fuck now. Take him off the payroll. And what I want you to do is put ME at the top of the payroll. I want to be the highest-paid fighter in the Asylum, because I deserve it.”

“Fuck off,” said Joe. “No fucking way I’m gonna bump your salary up. You keep your five figure paycheque.”

She shook her head. “No, Joe. It doesn’t work that way. You’re not in control. I am. I want a quarter million per year. More than anyone else.”

“What you need to do first, is you need to take your grubby paws and your undeserved belt off of my desk. Now, what makes you think I’ll give you a salary raise?”

Nerva took her belt and slung it over her shoulder. “Well, you see this little shiny jewel? This is everything that the Asylum revolves around. What would you do if I decided to walk out there to the cage, yank my thong to the side and piss on the title? Huh? How would that make you feel? Better yet—maybe I’ll take it to one of those pro-wrestling shows and piss on it in the middle of one of their rings? Is that what you really want, Joe? Making your hard work and your short-lived legacy suffer just because you couldn’t fulfill a simple little demand?

“There’s something called pay superiority: superior pay for superior work. Did you see what I pulled out at Mind Games? I fought for a fucking hour against Borst, longest match on the card. After what I did at Mind Games, no one deserves to be paid more than me.

Joe yanked his desk drawer open and pulled out a whisky. He downed it for a few seconds, and then looked back at Nerva. He needed that dose of alcohol after the decision he’d have to make. “If it’ll get you out of my office, then fine. I’ll call the accounting department tonight.”

“No! No! No!” she screamed. “It’s not that you have to do this. You should be doing because I deserve it, you pig fucker. Right now, I am your company and I deserve your money the most.”

“Whatever,” Joe said. “You got what you wanted. Go.”

Nerva spat on his desk and walked out.

"It's a fucking shame..." Campbell said, returning us to his position in the swivel chair. By now, the fans had grown used to Campbell continuously confusing the hell out of everyone, and they instinctively booed, anyway.

"Everything has to come to an end. But I never thought it'd fucking end like this." Joe said, almost crying at this point.
"I never thought it'd crash down upon me, but you've got to understand. This is... my life." Joe said, angrilly, bitterly at the mirror. "This is what I built!"

Immediately, the fans booed. Thanks to Rave Caprino, they knew that the Asylum wasn't originally Campbell's.

"Nobody helped me! I did it all on my own!"

The fans booed some more.

Campbell's face drooped down, into a moping state. "Someone... someone gave cancer to the Asylum..."

Campbell begins to look like he's breaking down. The fans booed Campbell some more, as he looks up at the mirror.

"This fucking sucks."

They needed to hunt down and collectively strangle Milo Samus to death.

“I know he’s just been laughing at us, Drake. Laughing away… everything’s a big fucking joke to him.” Clayton said as he wrapped a gauze bandage around his right hand.

Drake walked out of the adjacent room carrying a small white container in his hands. He laid it down on the bench…

it was filled with a sticky substance.
Drake began to wrap some gauze around his right hand. “He won’t be laughing much longer…”

“You’re damn right about that.” Clayton said with a sneer on his face as he dipped his right hand into the container. “Before this night is over… Samus’s little ‘voyage’ will come to an end.”

Drake nodded. “And maybe this will teach those two Japanese fucks a lesson as well.” Drake then dipped his right hand into the sticky substance.

Clayton then hauled a tray with various sharp miniature objects laid out on it – tacks, nails, glass, and gravel are clearly visible. Clayton chuckled as he rolled his gauzed-hand upon in it. Drake walked over and began to do the same thing.

Clayton and Drake raised their right hands up to their faces. “It’s time to facilitate.”

"You can't do it."

"This is what I have to do. Believe me, you fuckin' wankers, if there was any other way to do what I have to do, then I'm going to do it. But there's no alternative."

"No, this isn't logical."

Oh, how the fans already figured this out.

"But it has to be done!"

A fan, the most audible in attendance, screams "GET ON WITH IT".

"And you're not going to talk me out of it. No. No no. You're not. Oh... I'm starting to feel it, now. Oh yeah."

The fans begin to wonder if some chick was giving Joe a blowjob as he spoke, but the AsylumTron cut away before that could be confirmed.

“N-no… I don’t know who you’re talking a--”

“LIAR!” Clayton slammed his fist down on the nearby table.

“C’mon, Clay…” Drake grabbed Clayton by the shoulder and hauled him away from the employee before he could do any damage.

Where Milo Samus was at the moment seemed to be a mystery to everyone, but Drake and Clayton knew that he was in attendance.

“He’s not getting away with this any longer. The little shit managed to avoid us at Mind Games… but…”

“Yeah, Clayton… I know… don’t worry… we’ll get the fuckin’ punk.”

Drake and Clayton continued to stride down the halls of the arena in rapid fashion. They passed by various fighters and random patrons, none of them even resembling Milo Samus… until…

“HEY! THERE HE IS!” Drake shouted at the top of his lungs as he noticed a formidable-looking bald man turn around the corner. “GET HIM!”

Drake ran like hell and almost immediately caught up with Milo Samus. He punched him in the back of the head and Samus dropped to the floor like a pile of bricks, but it wasn’t until Clayton caught up with him that Drake realized he had taken out some one other than the desired target.

Clayton stood behind Drake and looked down at the fallen man. “Slick, Drake… real slick.”

“SHUTUP!” Drake shouted as he pushed Clayton away from him. “C’MON! HE CAN’T BE FAR!”

Clayton shook his head in frustration as he followed Drake down the hall. Milo was like a ghost that vanished and reappeared periodically… and it had to be only a matter of time before Drake and Clayton exacted their bittersweet revenge upon him.

*Ring*

“Hello?”

“My Beautiful Jade…how good it is to hear your voice again,” said an old voice on the other phone. The reception was weak and distant, Lotus’ legs went weak and the emotional stress of losing, or not knowing if she had lost her grandfather was gone. She sat down and listened as her grandfather spoke. “My granddaughter, I want you to know whatever you do in the Asylum, I am watching you.”

“You mean even the-“ Lotus asked thinking about the shower scene a couple weeks ago, but her grandfather cut her off. He knew what she was talking about.

“Yes, don’t think about that. I want you to think about your future. I sent you to America for a reason,” said Fei Lei with a stern strict voice. “Not to get beat up week in and week out.”

“What can I do? Stephanie and Nayomi can’t teach me anymore,” she replied.

Fei Lei sighed. “You are young, but you are old enough to make your own decisions. Sometimes you have to do what you think is best for you, not what I want. I have to go back now child, it is a long trip back up the mountains and the dreary sun is beginning to come up.”

“I love you grandfather,” Lin said.

“I love you too Lin.” Fei Lei replied before he hung up.

Lotus thought about it for a second, but it quickly forgot about it. Than everything that happened to her in the past couple weeks came back, the last bit of reassurance Lin needed was reached and there is hell to pay. And Jessica was to receive it at full force.

Jessica Jenkins Vs Lotus

That was something new.

The bell rung and the match started. Lotus let go of her grip and Jessica crawled backwards in surprise. One thing going through Jessica’s mind about Lotus:

What had gotten into her?

She wasn’t use to the extreme offensive nature that Lotus was doing; she was always a defensive fighter. Lotus walked towards the dazed Jessica and kicked up over her shoulder stomping down, otherwise known as the “Full Moon” however Jessica rolled out of the way. Lotus tried it again and Jessica rolled away again.

When Lotus tried for the third time, Jessica did a surprising sweep kick which flipped Lotus on her back. Jessica jumped to her feet and quickly perched herself on Lotus throwing in a couple punches and pulled Lotus’ head forward by her hair and throwing her head back, watching it bounce off the floor.

Jessica lifted it up again but Lotus flipped her over her head than did a backflip on top of Jessica smashing her with a wing-chun punch across her nose. She then stood up and hit Jessica in the tempo with a straight soccer kick.

The ref started to count the 10 count and Lotus stepped back but at 5-6-7 Jessica started getting up again.

Lotus walked over arrogantly and slowly, and measured up behind Jessica’s head. She put her hand about one-inch behind her head, and punched forward with a straight direct hit. Jessica’s head bounced up and down off the mat with such force that it could be heard from the 2nd row.

The fans went silent. Lotus didn’t care, she looked around and wondered why everyone would be so amazed, was this not what they paid for?

The count was around 7-8-9 now but Jessica stumbled up again, the ref was tempted to end the match before Jessica got herself killed but Lotus measured up again with her feet. She inched in slowly and swept Jessica’s legs under her…

“Blossom”

Lotus landed on her feet as she flipped over Jessica with the spinning jump kick catching her right underneath the chin catching her neck as Jessica did two air flips.

The fans booed. Lotus immediately turned around and knew they would come.

The Movement ran in the ring and Lotus was ready to fight but Akha pushed her aside and picked up Jessica who was getting up again…

Than dropped her neck-first against the Asylum rim. The fans gasped and booed loudly as Akha held up Jessica and let Nerva grab Jessica’s hair whispering a word in her ear that made Jessica’s tired eyes go wide.

“Traitor.”

Nerva slapped Jessica and than punched her with a hard right, than kicked her down as what seemed like the two Movement women stomped down on Jessica. Lotus stood frozen in the center of the asylum pit looking at the two women. She thought, and the fans chanted her name to help.

Lotus ran over and pushed aside Akha. Nerva was ready to fight as she stood in position but Lotus stood still and…reached out for a handshake.

“Let me join” she shouted.

The fans gasped as Nerva thought about it for a second. Akha looked astonished as Nerva ordered her to pick up Jessica.

”Finish her and you can join!”

Jessica looked half alive. Blood running down her chin. Lotus measured her up again…

“Blossom”

The ref ordered the bell now, as if like it even mattered.

Nerva grinned widely at Lotus and hugged her. “Welcome to the family,” Nerva said smiling. She held her hand and lifted it in the air as Akha did the same with the other side. They spun around to the four sides of the arena triumphantly as the music hit signaling Lotus’ victories. The fans shouted loudly at Lotus’ turn.

Repeating the question that Jessica had…now with everyone wondering:

What had gotten into her?

**Whack!**

Joe Campbell fumbled around on his feet.

**Whack!**

Campbell collapsed to the floor as a figure was seen behind him.

The figure of justice... chair in hand.

The ‘Jury’ cheered?

the Inmate snapped back, and seeing LLB he decided to charge towards him.

**Whack!**

The people exploded as Inmate had fallen via a chair shot as well.

Slamming the steel chair into the back of Inmate again, LLB then kicked him towards the Asylum. He pulled Inmate up, crashing his head against the mesh until blood started to draw from it. And by taking the chair once more, the relentless ‘Law & Order’ pulled it back...

**Whack!**

Within a second the verdict was given, as Inmate’s face dented into the chair. LLB paced madly over to the Time Keeper, throwing him above the guardrail and taking a microphone. Then, sliding into the cage, LLB brought it to his face, and began to speak, the ‘Jury’ surprisingly with him each step of the way.

“Objection... Your Honor!”

“Objection!” They screamed back, opening LLB’s eyes... puzzled that they had not said “Erection”.

“Inmate... this trial isn’t over just yet. For tonight, you and I are going to testify!”

The Crowd popped, as a dazed Joe Campbell rose from the ground, looking towards ‘The Period’.

“But... I might have made an error tonight as well.” LLB went on, while the people levelled their cheering down a notch or two. “You see, I made the mistake of trusting Inmate at ‘Mind Games’... I made the mistake of not tossing him out... for the record, lets just say I made a LOT of mistakes last week.”

LLB shrugged. “And maybe I made another mistake. Maybe you guys aren’t guilty after all.”

In reply, the Crowd booed as Joe grabbed hold of the Inmate, pulling him up to his feet, agreeing with what LLB had said.

“You’re a smart man, Roland!” The Owner screamed, dragging Tyler up the ramp. “You don’t want to look like a fool... again.”

“Whoa, hold on! Don’t leave just yet!” ‘The Law’ commanded. “I need to make sure. So, ‘Jury’, if you could please help me out...

I need to know if I’m right or wrong.

If ya’ll could be so kind to give this sinful prick an answer... it’d be greatly appreciated.”

A confused Campbell scratched his head, still holding up the bloody Number One Contender.

“I need... a verdict.” He said, turning to the people, then taking his right hand and putting it into the air.

“GUILTY!” They replied.

“Wait, wait... stupid me. I *did* make an error.

What I need is a verdict, while you actually show me who is the one that’s guilty. I didn’t know if you meant me, Mister Joe over there, or for fuck sake the damned Time Keeper.”

Obeying, the ‘Jury’ stood, chanting “Guilt-y! Guilt-y! Guilt-y!” and pointing in the direction of Inmate and Joe Campbell with every new time they said the word.

Laughing, LLB brought the microphone crashing down like a Judge would to a mallet.

“Okay... haha, stupid me, you ARE guilty after all! I’ll be damned. The Match is on... ‘good day’.”

Full of rage and now aware of his surroundings Inmate lunged forward, only to be “held back” back Joe. And with the Crowd still chanting, LLB exited the Asylum...

actually smiling?

Maybe a little.

Karmyn stood in her locker room wearing the long black lace duster she's always worn. Accompanying it was a tight black leather skirt and a skin-conforming purple top. She was dressed to kill, or at least, frame.

Karmyn picked up the phone on her desk and dialed the three magic numbers that were core to her plot. Nine, one, and one.

911 emergency services, how may I help you?

"Oh my god! Help! There's this whacko lunatic trying to kill me! You have to help me, please!" Karmyn was doing her best to be sound panic-stricken.

Impetigo (c) Vs Akha
(U.K. Title)

Her opponent? U.K. Champion, Impetigo. “Conserve” by Big D and The Kids Table replaced Biohazard. A positive response waved across the crowd as Impetigo came out from behind the curtains with Wonder Hanna. His newly won U.K. Title was strapped around his waist. They both walked down the aisle, and when they reached the cage, Impetigo stepped in and Wonder Hanna stayed out at a safe distance from Akha.

Impetigo took his belt off and raised it in the air to the crowd, who responded with cheers. He then handed it to the referee. Akha eyed her prize, and then the ref held it up in the air and called for the bell. The fight was on. Akha towered over Impetigo. It was a strange sight, a woman larger than a man. And with Akha’s size came freakish power. She shoved Impetigo from the center of the canvas, sending him back first into the cage wall.

The fans went “oooh.”

Akha pointed at the bandage on her forehead. “You’re gonna fucking die for what you did to me earlier tonight.”

She charged forward and punched Impetigo in the jaw. Imp’s face twitched to the right. He doubled over from a knee to the gut and fell on his stomach from an elbow. Akha continued to kick and pound away at him while he was down, cussing at him with every shot. On the outside, Wonder Hanna pounded at the cage mesh screaming for Impetigo to get up. He finally managed to catch one of Akha’s stomping feet and took her down to the ground. Before he could get any sort of dominant position over her, Akha pushed him back with both of her taped feet.

When she got up, Impetigo immediately kicked her in the gut and cinched in a headlock. Akha used her strength to pick him up, but Impetigo kicked off the steel rim and bulldogged Akha in the center of the cage. Akha got up from the shot. Impetigo closed in and elbowed her in the neck and then head butted her in the nose. This rocked Akha back. She wiped her the blood rolling down from her nostrils and then glared at Impetigo.

Once again, she charged forward, but Impetigo was ready with a drop-toe-hold. He immediately got her in a crossface hold, hoping to score a submission. But Akha was a stubborn monster indeed, and she wouldn’t tap despite the referee’s offer.

Akha powered out of the move and shoved Impetigo off of her. But Impetigo got to his feet quick and stomped away at her and dropped a double axe-handle across the back of her neck. He then grabbed her by the hair and sank his right fist into her upper back repeatedly. The fans cheered every shot, but their joy was cut short was Akha threw an elbow back and caught Impetigo in the eye.

Impetigo went for a low kick, but Akha’s strong shins rendered it useless. Akha head butted Impetigo and sent him a few feet back, and then roundhouse kicked him in the stomach. She sized him up for a moment and then put him to the ground with a hard sidekick to the face. Eagle-spread across the mat, Impetigo was looking up at the lights as the referee counted. When the count reached four, he decided that losing the U.K. Title tonight wasn’t such a good deal.

He got up.

Akha smiled and slammed her right fist into her left palm. “Heh, heh… shoulda stayed down, ugly fuck.”

She stalked forward, but Impetigo immediately head butted her between the legs.

“Ugly fuck? Look who’s fucking talking!” he said.

And on that note, he punched her right in the face where she had a fold of skin partially covering her eye. It wasn’t from this fight; it had been the way Akha looked for the past 15 years. Impetigo continued punching and kicking Akha until she fell against the cage. At that time, the fans began to boo as Nerva came down the aisle with the Asylum Championship around her waist and a red axe clutched in both hands.

Impetigo was hammering away at Akha, trying to get a ring-out victory. Akha had her hand gripping the steel rim, holding on for dear life as Impetigo lifted her by the leg with his right arm while punching with his left. Impetigo let go of Akha, backed up a few steps, winded up, and went for a clothesline.

Things didn’t go out as planned. Akha moved out of the way, allowing Nerva to jump up and knock Impetigo with the steel flat end of the axe, busting his forehead wide open. Impetigo staggered towards the center of the ring, where Akha was waiting, ready to knock him with her finishing roundhouse kick to the head.

Out of the crowd, however, Contessa appeared, carrying a steel chair. She hopped into the Asylum cage and leveled Akha right across the back. Akha arched in pain and turned around. Contessa reached up and ripped off the bandage on Akha’s forehead, and then whacked her in the same place Impetigo had before in the night. For good measure, Contessa whacked her three more times in the head, and then side kicked her right into Impetigo’s cross face chicken wing.

Impetigo lifted the beast in the air and hit her with the Filth Drop.

Nerva hopped onto the apron to get into the cage, but Wonder Hanna quickly grabbed her by the thong and pulled her down. Nerva cursed at Hanna and swung with her axe, but Hanna ducked and the axe got nothing but mesh. Nerva turned around to see Contessa coming and swung with her axe. Contessa swatted the axe out of Nerva’s hands with her chair and started stalking her up the aisle.

Suddenly, Nerva wasn’t feeling so brave anymore. She backtracked up the ramp. Contessa looked back to the cage, where Akha was counted out for the ten. The bell sounded. Contessa smiled, knowing that her objective was complete. She headed back into the crowd. Impetigo was awarded his title and had his hand raised, but he pulled it back and asked for the microphone. His music faded out.

“Hey Nerva! Don’t go anywhere yet. I have a challenge for you. Since I put my title up for grabs this week against one of your flunkies and kicked her ass, I think it’s only fair that I get a title shot next week. That’s right, Nerva. I don’t think a real champion would pick on some defenseless man and break his arm. You’re gonna pay for that; I’ll see to it. Fight someone who can fight back, you militant bitch. Fight me!”

The fans roared with cheers.

Nerva took off her title belt and held it in her right hand. “You want this?” She laughed and then shook her head. “No. You’re not even gonna get close to it. Fuck you, you don’t even deserve a shot.”

She flipped the middle finger at him as officials helped Akha out of the cage.

Suddenly, “Bodies” by Drowning Pool blared over the speakers. Joe Campbell appeared on the AsylumTron backstage, with Arch Angel at his side.

“Impetigo, Nerva, I don’t like either one of you. But I’m gonna have to agree with Nerva tonight.” The fans booed.

“You don’t deserve a shot next week, Impetigo. In fact, what you need to do is prove yourself worthy of even holding my coveted U.K. Championship. Come on, man! That title’s got a lineage of pride. You think one little title defense makes you above the U.K. Title? No, no.

“Next week, you’re gonna have another title defense. Against… ARCH ANGEL.” The fans booed as the seven-foot Arch Angel crossed his arms and smiled. “Not only will your title be on the line, but also the number one contender slot for the Asylum Title also be up for grabs. Good luck, bloke, you’re gonna need it!”

Nerva held Akha’s shoulder as Akha bled from the forehead in large quantities. She led Akha to the back, satisfied that she wouldn’t have to face Impetigo next week. Impetigo stood in the cage with his U.K. Title hanging over his shoulder. Wonder Hanna entered the cage trying to talk to him about what just happened, but Impetigo was far too focused to listen… for he had a match with the biggest man in the Asylum next week. And so much was on the line.

Karmyn had finally found Milo, and only had a few moments to put her evil plan into action. It would only be a matter of time before the Police would arrive, so she had to act fast.

"Happy to see you too" Milo said sarcasticly, not lifting his head to look at the woman who had just entered the room.

"If it wasn't for your stupidity, it might be me who gets to fuck that bitch up at Fight.Hell.II!" Karmyn yelled, attempting to rouse anger within Milo.

Milo however paid no attention, and continued wrapping tape around his wrist in the same manner he did before each and every match.

FLICK

Milo had been hit in the face by a cold, slimy, stream of spit. He briefly looked at Karmyn, before wiping the spit off and going about his business.

"I'm glad your father is dead asshole!"

WHACK!

Karmyn had found just the right words to set Milo off. He had gone completely ballistic, spear-tackling her to the floor and followed up with a series of punches and elbow smashes to Karmyn's face area.

"Stop right there!"

Two washington state police officers charged into the dressing room, and pulled Milo off of Karmyn. Milo, unsure as to who it was swung a wild hook which connected with a solid thud. One of the officers fell to the ground, gripping his jaw in pain. The other officer managed to get one of Milos hands into a set of cuffs, before he too was hit with a hard right. Karmyn stood to her feet and smiled before exiting the room. Her work here was done, and she would leave things to the boys in blue.

"Stop, Police!"

A third, and fourth officer charged into the room, with batons in hand. The first officer charged Milo, sending both of them toppling backwards over the wooden bench. A fury of punches were thrown by both men, before the fourth cop had taken something out of his belt.

Pshhhhh

Milos eyes began to burn, and it became near impossible for him to see.

"Ahhhh!!" Milo yelled in pain, as he still swung his fists wildly connecting with what he hoped was the officers face.

Pshhhh

A second burst of pepper spray had found its way into Milos eyes and mouth. He could feel the cuffs being secured around his other wrist but couldn't see exactly what was happening. A series of kicks to the rips followed, and Milo was forced to his feet.

"We got you now, you crazy fuck." One of the officers said, escorting Milo down the hallway towards the parking lot.

Milo was attempting to wiggle away from the officers, but he was concentrating more on the inferno which had stolen his eyes.

"There he is!"

As if things could get any worse for Milo, he could see the blurred figures of what appeared to be the team of Pain and Suffering. Drake wasted no time, and plowed through two cops violently knocking Milo to the pavement of the parking lot. Milo was unable to block the series of head shots he was receiving, resulting in a fair deal of blood forming on his face. He was however able to sink his teeth into the fist of Drake Kerrigan, causing some visible blood flow to run onto the pavement. Drake made his way through the cops, and began stomping on Milo's ribs, putting and end to the biting.

"Stop in the name of the law!"

What appeared to be a small riot squad piled out of a Washington State Police truck, with riot shields and batons in hand. Drake and Clayton paid no attention, and continued their assault on Milo. Because of this, the riot cops were able to charge them from behind, sending them to the pavement while the original four cops struggled to put cuffs on them. This itself was a task and a half, but eventually using pepper spray and standard issue batons, Pain and Suffering were cuffed and thrown into the back of a cop car.

"Where are you Samus?" Drake yelled, not being able to see much of anything due to the excess amount of pepper spray which had been used on his eyes.

As much as Milo would have liked to answer that question, he had no clue where he was. But it felt as if he was sitting in the back of a squad car. The police sectioned off the area, and prevented the camera crew and audience from being anywhere within proximity of the scene. The scene then cut, back into the arena.

“Fucking cheap cunt, I suppose what they says about Lawyers is true, can’t trust none of them… typical cheap shot from behind… I should’ve expected it… but if he wants to play it that way, so be it… he’s playing against the dirtiest player in the game…

uh…

WHOO!” Joe roared out, Tyler looking up and rolling his eyes back as Campbell sunk back into rage.

“I got an idea Tyler, Roland’s gonna be pumped up now, full of adrenaline, full of rage… he’s ready to explode in this match, I bet he can’t wait to tear you apart, rip you limb from lim…” Joe was cut off.

“Uh, yeah Campbell… just get to the point.” Burton cut in, evidently not pleased at Joe’s descriptive speech.

“Well, Roland wants to rip you apart, he wants“Well of course we won’t, I’ll just beat his fuckin’ teeth out.” Tyler snarled back.

“No Tyler, no you won’t… I need you at 100%, you need you at 100% for Fight.Hell.II… so just follow this plan, trust me… he’ll hate it.” Joe finished, leaning over to Inmate and conversing as the camera’s went back to the arena.

LLB Vs Inmate


Tension rising.

Atmosphere at boiling point.

L L B.

The letters flashed across the video wall and the crowd were on their feet, “Points of Authority” by Linkin Park blasting over the speakers and Roland Miles Ermann rushing through the curtain, teeth gritted and fists clenched, there was no doubt about it… LLB was ready, the hatred stored away from the week previous had already manifested once, and it was set to explode again, he clambered up into the Asylum and figuratively gestured for Inmate to arrive.

Burton didn’t disappoint.

“I Disappear” by Metallica brought forth the Inmate, Tyler Burton… who showed his face to the most intense heat he’d probably ever received, so much that he actually stepped back for a moment to truly take it in, a complete wall of rage directed at the man who had once again, sided with the devil.

Once again being the question… wether Inmate had ever actually left Campbell’s side was extremely questionable, as he slowly paced his way down to the Asylum, all questions were put aside, LLB suddenly leaping over the Asylum rim without warning and exchanging vicious blows with the number one contender!

SMASH!

The sound of Inmate’s knee’s connecting with solid steel steps, one whip had seen LLB hurl him in the direction of the bulky steps, Inmate’s notably long term knee injury coming to play as his legs connected, as he tried to stumble away, LLB struck again, rushing from behind and spearing his legs from beneath him, almost rotating him through 360 degrees, Inmate landed on a heap on the cold arena floor, as LLB snapped once again, crunching shut a steel chair, he tapped it menacingly on the floor.

CRACK!

A solid blow, right across the knee cap of Tyler Burton who roared out in agony, desperately crawling toward the steps and then up them, finally tumbling over and into the Asylum, followed shortly by LLB who touched down inside as the official bell rang.

CRACK!

The chair bent in half, narrowly missing Inmate’s leg as he rolled away, it connected solidly with the canvas, as Inmate stumbled up to his feet and desperately tried to straighten his knee, LLB rushed in; seeing blood he lowered his head for an Erroneous Conclusion, only to be met by an effective counter… Inmate’s other knee, rushing up to meet him square in the face!

Stunned and bleeding from the mouth, LLB stumbled back to shake off the cobwebs as Inmate rushed toward him at full speed, a potential ringout on the way.

Spin.

SMMMMMMMASH!

The crowd exploded with cheers, the explosive LLB tossing Inmate through the air and spinning, bringing him down onto the aforementioned steel chair with a stunning spinebuster, Inmate’s arms and legs lay flat out stunned, as the Lawyer looked to “Testify”.

Hooking up Inmate’s legs, he went through the motions of a sharpshooter, crossing the legs and…

Tap.

Tap…

… Tap?

Inmate’s hand, tapping the mat solidly three times, the referee saw it, waving his hands frantically as the bell rang and the crowd erupted, “Points of Authority” hitting the arena once again, LLB however… was confused… turning to face the referee, he gave him a perplexed shove, displeased at the phoney match ending, he turned back to further punish Inmate.

Who had climbed over, and out of the Asylum… and now stood center aisle, laughing from the pit of his stomach.

“You bastard!” LLB spat with rage, lifting up the steel chair and tossing it at Inmate to no avail, Burton dodging it and further pointing and laughing at LLB, who furiously worked up a rage, kicking the Asylum rim only for the referee to lay a foolish hand on his shoulder.

SMACK!

Erroneous Conclusion~!

Down went the referee, but with him the straw that broke the camels back, no sooner had LLB speared the referee, had several security attired individuals rushed the Asylum and firmly gripped LLB by the arms, as they did… Joe Campbell’s face appeared on the big screen.

“Temper… temper, Roland… you got what you wanted, the ‘BIG’ win… and oh, how you deserved it, such hard work Roland! SUCH A PERFORMANCE?

You dick.

This is just another lesson learnt Lawyer boy, you know nothing here… you are nothing here, and until you learn that I control anything and everything that happens on this show, you will continue to be nothing now boys… if you don’t mind, take this idiot away!” Joe said with a smile, clicking his fingers as security dragged a snarling LLB away, with it… the show came to a close… or did it?

Winner: LLB via Submission




Lethal Injection? V

"The Asylum... is going to die."

The fans booed, because Joe Campbell still hadn’t left the Asylum video wall.

"The Asylum... has AIDS... because of those fucking wrestlers. They will kill it."

Campbell leaned forward, his face was beat red with anger.

"These wrestlers... they pumped their semen into the anal cavity of the Asylum. Now anything... anything will kill it. The slow, eating death that awaits the Asylum... well, it pisses me off. I'm not going to let these fucktards kill what *I* created! The Asylum is MINE! It's MINE! I CREATED IT!"

"I won't let these fuckheads KILL what *I* created!"

Campbell leaned further forward, veins were popping out of his head at this point. "Because... I'm going to... KILL... what I CREATED!"

The fans booed like they've never booed before.

"I'm going to *INJECT* the Asylum with a lethal dose of *POISON*!"

"If anybody's gonna kill *my* creation... then it'll be ME."

Campbell turns around. The reflection in the mirror showed that the back of the swivel chair was painted in what seemed to be white watercolor. The fans reacted with mainly cheers, shockingly enough.

Campbell was now looking directly at the camera, now smiling with an evil, demonic smile.

"Me... and the F... t... f... W... o..."

And as the AsylumTron's picture faded to black, only one question was put into the heads of the fans of the Asylum.

Were the FtfWo coming to the Asylum?