And thinking, was evidently not what Joe Campbell had in mind, not on this night... not on any.

The crowd rose to their feet, but this week however... they didn't explode with cheers as they had in weeks gone by... the reason for this unfortunately, was the fact that Joe Campbell had steadily fallen from his hero pedestal and dropped to ground zero with the rest of society.

In the past few weeks, all of his preachings had returned to haunt him... speaking and backing it up was something that he usually did well, but on this occasion... he'd failed, failed himself... failed the crowd, and he'd failed the Asylum.

So why stop now?

"Shut that fucking racket off!" Joe snorted as he stumbled out from behind the curtains, a surefire and damning sign that he was back on the bottle again... and to be honest, not a soul could blame him, 21w had relentlessly attacked the Asylum at every single show following Everything or Nothing, at which Joe Campbell was attacked personally.

At seVered, payback was delivered to Joe in a short sugary sample, as Carnage defeated Biggs on Asylum turf, this however... didn't ease the nulling pain in the back of Joe's head... the pain that told him Asylum was going to fail at Immortals.

"Now, what we fucking have here... is a situation, a moral dilemma if you will." Joe continued to slur as he clambered up the steps and into the Asylum, he wobbled over to the announce area and perched himself down on the Asylum rim.

"What we have, as they say... is an overabundance, too many cooks spoiling my broth and whatever you will... in a time such as this, a time of indecision... somebody needs to step forward... and make a decision." Joe grunted, he paused for a crowd reaction, but didn't get one.

"Oh, I see... its like that is it? You've all lost faith in me? You've all lost faith in the English cunt who always comes out on top? Well don't worry cockroaches... Jesus Christ had a lot of none believers too... and he managed to rise up from the dead.

So will I.

Oh, and for the censors out there... that was figurative speech, I don't believe in Jesus and he can kiss my fucking sack." Joe said with a chuckle, riling up the crowd somewhat.

"But yeah, 21wrestling... you keep coming, and coming... and coming, but you never finish the job, each week you attack, each week you leave... but each week we live on, wer don't close Knight... not like you did, we live... we breathe, and your futile attempts to kill us always make us stronger.

And yet you still keep coming.

Oh well, you know what they say... some fuckers always have to try and ice skate uphill." Joe said, chuckling to himself in drunken stupor.

"But onto bigger better things, at seVered... I took that slagbag Nerva, and I beat her within an inch of her life, why? Because 21wrestling had to see... they had to see that the price of victory is often sacrifice, well... this week I intend to demonstrate that fact once again, you see Knight... I'm going to keep proving something that I know you can't pale in comparison with.

You see Mark, what I have here is a bunch of shit sacks, none of them mean a fuck to me, they get shot... they get raped, they get dead... and when all is said and done, I pick another bunch of them out of the crapper and start fresh... but you can't do that can you Mark? You can't play the game of indifference, and you see... that's what sets us apart Mark, that's what give me the edge...

... while I have expendable assets.

You have commodities." Joe said with a sinister smirk.

"What are you going to do Mark? When my boys turn up on the doorstep, switchblades at the ready... handguns waiting to be fired by trigger fingers? Oh... I know all about you're little courtroom affairs, I know you've made Immortals a focal point and I also know that I'm held accountable for anything that happens to any of your wrestlers on the night.

But I'm not accountable for what happens to you Knight, and I'm not accountable for anything that happens between now and then... and as Biggs found out all too well.

I'm not accountable for anything that happens on my show!" Joe roared, his eyes filling up with rage.

He got to his feet and started to pace about the Asylum, he appeared to be winning the crowd over once again.

"So here it is Mark... another sacrifice in aid of the greater good... tonight and next week, I will find out just who my best fighters are, I'll discover which six men will represent the Asylum in the Iliad at Immortals, and we'll start this week... we'll start with.

Ricky Wasp versus Eddie Cheno.

That's right... what better way to invoke a bit of violence than to square off a clanner and a nigger? Yep... that's right, the great white hope versus the sad black pothead, should be interesting.

And speaking of interesting.

How about the son of God? Yeah... Steve Christ, and of course... I love Steve Christ like a brother, therefore... I'm going to pit him against an opponent which I consider to be of his skill and strength, a man who can go punch for punch with the son of God.

egg NOG, of course!" Joe said, holding back a sinister laugh.

"And for the sake of it... lets have another little mismatch, we'll have Tyler Hughes, my favourite little man... taking on Lotus, my favourite little bitch, that sounds about right for this week... whichever of those three is still conscious at the end of the Show can be on the Asylum's Iliad team." Joe said, the crowd cheering as he spoke.

"And I'm off." Joe grunted, he dropped the microphone to the ground and paced back up the aisle to the back, presumably to sober up for other events at hand.

He hunched over, breathing dust through his clogged nostrils. He slapped himself in the face to wake up from the dream. But he groggily opened his eyes to chains and more chains.

Vulgar echoes of drunken, confused men played through the walls. They looped over in a soft hymn, yet in reality they were chaotic screams down the hall.

His sense of smell died from the rotten mixture of old cologne and sweat, telling him whoever was taking care of this place forgot to a long time ago.

Something different…something pretty, raised it from the dead. Like a garden of roses that sprouted through waste it was a confusing smell that triggered these thoughts. Somebody arrived at his cage, and he saw that sharp blue eyes were locked onto him.

Cheno knew that he saw these eyes somewhere. This wasn’t a mirage, this was for real. He breathed a sigh of relief.

It was a woman’s voice that he heard. “How’s life been treating you?”

How was life treating him? Well, the only person in his life that he had trusted was found dead and he was charged with her murder. ”Not good.” Cheno said grimly, and shuffled against the wall once more.

“What if I said that life would get better?”

He shrugged but then heard the jingle of cell keys and the door swinging on its rusted hinges. For once he was actually listening in this conversation. He couldn’t see through the shroud of black but could hear the woman edging closer.

Cheno wasted no time in getting to his feet. “I didn’t funken kill Jett mang. They musta found dat out.”

As she stepped closer, Eddie caught a glimpse of the police badge on her shirt. “Nicole..”
“Right, Eddie. While they were dusting for fingerprints, yours weren’t the only ones there. The murder weapon could have been used by somebody else. They can’t confirm that you’ve done it now with this new information, so it looks like you’re free to go.” Nicole Carson said, and Cheno could tell she was smiling.

He nodded slowly. “Why’d ya come wo-mang? You know you and I ain’t on the best terms.” He stopped but then continued after a moment of silence, “It don’t funken matter. You came and dats all what funken matters.”

"Of course I would come. I knew you didn't do that when I heard it on the radio station. So I decided to look into it personally."

Eddie was glad for his freedom, so glad that he immediatly wanted out. He started to the door and whispered. “Thanks. I don’t know what ya want, but I can’t help ya.”

He walked past Carson, but then stopped. She seemed to be waiting for something but he didn’t know what. Her hands rested on her hips, not amused. Maybe if he broke out in dance than she would be happy. But he didn’t feel like entertaining tonight.

However, it struck him…

Through all his grieving he had ignored somebody that cared. What if he was ignoring another Jett? She could be better off dead the way he treated her. Cheno stared in deep thought…he was acting like a sell-out.

He raised his voice over the insanity, “Wait, wo-mang. You don’t deserve how I been treatin you. Ya helped me out of this funken place, so I ain’t gonna let ya go. Comon lets go do somethin, I had enough heartache for one funken day.”

"Thank god. Now let's get out of here."

Then both of them walked away, relieved that this whole deal was over with.

Gwen O'Reilly Vs Dawn Van Dammage

Now they were ready though, the fans could feel it in the air.

“Good Rats” by The Dropkick Murphys started, and the fans stood cheering. Gwen stepped out from the back, no wounds visible. She had a wide smile on her face as she whipped her head from right to left, smiling at the fans and slapping their hands.

She needed to win this match to tie the score. This was the most important match of her asylum career, and she meant to make it a good fight.

She stepped into the ring, gulped down some whiskey, and tossed her bottle to a fan in the crowd. Gwen took off her jacket and tossed it to the floor outside of the ring and then waited for her opponent to arrive.

“Bullets” by Creed nearly shattered the speakers with the opening screams of the lyrics. Dawn Van Dammage appeared from behind the curtain. The fans gave her a good reaction. She stood at the top of the ramp for a moment, then walked to the asylum.

She had every intention on ending this battle once and for all. She was tired of Gwen, she was tired of fighting Gwen, she was tired of beating Gwen.

She got into the ring and walked towards Gwen with quick steps.

Step.

Step.

Step.

Slap.

The slap from Dawn to Gwen echoed throughout the arena. Gwen’s head whipped with the force of the slap, and she slowly pulled her focus back to Dawn.

Gwen looked at Dawn, feeling her cheek beginning to redden. She spit in Dawn’s face.

Dawn was quick to retaliate and she brought her head back and slammed it into Gwen’s.

The fans were cheering throughout this whole exchange, and the cheering got even louder once the bell rang.

Gwen stumbled backwards from the headbutt, but quickly came back at Dawn and drove her shoulder into Dawn’s stomach--tackling her to the ground.

Gwen sat on Dawn’s stomach and pinned her arms down. She was going to show Dawn how a REAL headbutt was done.

Gwen brought her head back and repeatedly drove it into Dawn’s shoulder. With each instance of a connection, Dawn screamed in agony. Gwen had stopped feeling mercy for this woman a long time ago...one of the unfortunate side-effects of the series they’d been sharing.

Dawn’s shoulder began bleeding from the headbutts...

Wait...

No...

the blood wasn’t from Dawn, the blood was from Gwen.

Her forehead had split open from headbutting Dawn, and still...Gwen continued with the attack.

Dawn couldn’t let this go on much longer, or this match would definitely be Gwen’s win. Dawn brought her legs up under Gwen’s arms showing off her uncanny flexibility. Dawn used all the strength in her legs to push Gwen back, then Dawn moved into the position Gwen just was.

On Gwen’s stomach.

Dawn swung away and Gwen’s bloodied face.

Right

Right

Left

Right

Left

And the variations of punches and backpunches continued until Gwen showed something fairly uncharacteristic...

She showed intelligence, and she played possum.

Dawn thought Gwen was out cold from the punches, so she stood up off of Gwen.

1...

2...

Legsweep.

As Dawn fell to the ground, she realized that she had been tricked by Gwen. This angered Dawn. That drunken bitch had pulled a fast one on her.

Gwen was to her feet the moment she connected with the legsweep, and now she loomed over Dawn’s head.

EMERALD FUSION!!!

No, Dawn happened to move out of the way just in time. Just as she was thanking her lucky stars, she saw Gwen coming down at her with her elbow extended.

Then, Dawn was seeing stars.

Gwen had driven her elbow into Dawn’s nose, and chances were, Dawn’s nose was broken. It had exploded with blood and other nice fillings found in the nose.

Gwen stood up and listened to the sound she so loved to hear...well, she loved hearing it as long as she wasn’t on her back on the mat staring at the ceiling of an arena.

She listened to the count being administered.

1.

2.

Dawn began blinking rapidly, her vision had suddenly gone blurry and red.

3.

4.

Had that elbow dismantled something important to her vision?

5.

6.

No, she realized as she felt the pain in her nose that blood was just leaking into her eyes.

7.

Dawn rolled over onto her stomach and started to get up. She was on her hands and knees when she felt Gwen’s arm lock around her waist.

Gwen then proceeded to shock the crowd.

German Suplex!

German Suplex!!

German Suplex!!!

Three German Suplexes in a row. An amazing feat for a woman that has been considered a brawler so far.

Gwen wasn’t finished though, as Dawn laid on the ground...she saw a dot of green in her blurred red vision coming faster and faster towards her.

The dot was Gwen’s boot.

EMERALD FUSION!

This time, Gwen connected, and Dawn would not be getting up.

The ten-count reached it’s climax of 10, and the match was awarded to a bloody Gwen.

The crowd cheered, and Dawn rolled out of the ring after a dozen or so seconds.

Gwen-3 Dawn-3

And Carnage was set to have yet another meeting with the very man who made the rules, it had to be a meeting of joy, or at the very least appreciation for the work he had done. Joe knew that with his ranks thinning with the loss of Providence, that he was going to have to make sure the men around him were the same men he could depend on. Carnage reached down grabbing the doorknob and turning it to open the door, more comfortable with the situation, he closed the door behind him and took a few steps in. Joe looked up from his desk, and a smile fought it's way across his lips as he stood to his feet and shook hands with Carnage.

"You know, it's hard for me to say, but I've grown to appreciate everything you do." Joe broke off the handshake, and nodded towards the chair in front of his desk where Carnage took a seat. Joe walked around the desk, and sat back down in his chair. "And it's not just how you fought Biggs, it's how you stood in there against Providence. I like that a lot, and right now you know if you stay loyal to me.. good things will come your way."

"So if I follow you, I can become champion?" Joe looked up and into the flourescent lights, and scratched his head, "So I can't?"

"It's possible, anything's possible.. it's just that.. I could get you a shot, but with Inmate holding that title, I can't guarantee that you'd win. That's all." Joe sighed inwardly, as he looked back up into Carnage's eyes, "But I don't want you to rush yourself, I want you to focus on this war with 21w, I'm going to need you. You see those twats in 21 know that they can't beat you, you came in a fuck up wrestler, and right now you're a fighter who fucks people up."

Carnage nodded at the sentiments, he knew this already, "So this is why you wanted me to meet you? Just wanted to tell me good job, but no title? I appreciate the words.. but if I don't have a fight, I'd like to get out of here, I have something to do.." Carnage stood and began towards the door, but was interrupted by Joe.

"Wait.. hold up!" Joe slid his drawer open, and yanking out a fat white envelope, and as Carnage turned around Joe shoved the money into Carnage's hand. "This is your payment, everything's caught up. But I have a special job for you." Carnage smiled at the thought, and Joe in return cringed at the sight of Carnage's teeth. "It's a match, tonight. It's some guy who thinks he's big, and bad, I want you to beat him up, and beat him up pretty badly. I hear this guy also has a knee problem.. it's his.. uh.. it's his right knee. And if you do that job, who knows?"

"I get more money if I do this?" Carnage asked as Joe simply nodded before answering.

"If you don't fuck this up, you'll get more money, and I might even think about throwing a title shot on top of this. You never know.. like I said, being loyal to me has huge positives. Just as long as you stray from fucking up, you could very well get anything in the world."

Carnage simply nodded, as he flipped his fingers through the unmarked bills, "So who is this guy, I'm fighting anyway?"

"Trust me when I say, you'll rather have it be a surprise." Joe was smiling big again, as his head nodded, "And don't forget about his right knee, fuck it up for me if you can."

"Yeah, no problem Joe. His right knee." Closing the envelope, and stuffing it into his pocket, starting yet another mission under the Joe Campbell banner. All Joe could was smile and nod, anytime he could ruin one of Mark Knight's possible moves, he would jump at it. After this was all said and done, who knows, Joe might name Carnage the Immortals MVP.

Clayton Richler sat down on a bench in the Pain & Suffering warehouse locker room, reading through a novel - “The Remnant” by Jerry Jenkins. Clayton flicked through the pages and occasionally nodded his head in recognition of what he was reading. A squeaking noise then echoed throughout the room, and Clayton turned his head to see Drake Kerrigan sitting down on another bench behind him, polishing one of the stolen 21w tag team titles with a rag.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Clayton asked.

Drake glanced up at Clayton. “Ever see a guy polish gold before?” Drake asked back, sarcastically.

“They aren’t our titles. Hell, if anything, we should be destroying them,” Clayton stated.

“They’d be destroyed by now if it wasn’t for those assholes stealing our titles as well - thanks to your masterful concealing techniques.”

Drake frowned, clearly not humored. “Let’s not go through this again,” He said, polishing the 21w title some more. “And what’s with you becoming a smart-ass bookworm again? I thought that was in your past, man.”

“Have a problem with me reading a little bit?”

“Calm down Clay,” Drake glanced back up at Clayton. “What’s it about, anyway?”

Clayton laid the book down on the bench beside him. “The end of the world.”

“Figures…” Drake replied.

Their conversation was cut short by a loud knocking on their locker room door. Clayton sighed and stood up, making his way to the door.

“Who is it?” Clayton questioned.

No reply.

Clayton backed up a little bit, and then swung the door open to reveal none other than Marc Baiden and Seth Kard AKA The Bullies standing there with what appeared to be barbed wire baseball bats in their hands and the stolen tA tag team titles strapped around their waists.

Clayton jolted backwards and Drake stood up in anticipation, firmly gripping both 21w tag team titles in his hands.

“What the f--!?” Clayton shouted, glaring at both Bullies.

“Hold it,” Marc cut in. “We’re not going to ambush you. But we are going to challenge you.”

“Oh yeah?” Drake shouted from across the room. “Just try to ambush us, I dare you!”

“Little bitches!” Seth shouted back, wielding the bat in the air.

“… Barbed wire baseball bat match, tonight,” Marc continued. “Don’t worry, we have two more that we’ll supply you guys with.”

Clayton hesitated for a few moments before replying, “Sure. We look forward to going up 2-to-1.”

Clayton then slammed the door in The Bullies’ faces and calmly strolled back to the bench.

Through his Uncle/Agent Claude Mitchell, Marauder already had a three nights full of booked dates next week, and to his surprise after he made the announcement official early Sunday, he received a call from Joe Campbell offering him a tryout tonight. After a hasty flight on Joe Campbell's personal jet, Marcus Corteia was finally here, and he was ready perform even if everyone around him were giving him weird stares.

If he impressed Campbell enough tonight, they could be giving him weird stares for as long as they want. As he walked looking for Joe's office, he knew that this place wasn't exactly to his tastes, to lower class, not enough service for the workers, the other guys were dirty, if he was lucky he would only have to work two months in this shithole, and get back into the big time. If a brawler like Graphic Violence could get looks by fWo, OSW, and PIW after leaving Asylum, Marauder was sure with his talent he'd have all promotions eating out the palm of his hand.

"Ah here we go, Joe Campbell." With a reach down, Marauder opened the door and walked in leaving the door ajar, "Joe Campbell is it?" Marauder continued to walk towards the desk, and he sat down right in front of him, dropping his bag to the ground with a clank. Joe was looking around confused, trying to make sure he was in the same room, better yet, that he was still awake. "You are Joe Campbell, aren't you?"

"What did the sign on the door read?" Joe said as he looked down at the papers on his desk.

"It said Joe Campbell.."

"What does this fucken thing on this bloody desk say?"

"It says Joe Campbell.." Joe Campbell's face reddened as he reached up yanking his glasses off his face as he slammed them on the table.

"Then why the fuck, do you come in my office, twat around, and ask if I'm Joe Campbell? Of course I'm fucking Joe Campbell.. now the question is who the fuck are...!" Finally Joe's eyes were up off his papers and he looked into the eyes of Marauder, who didn't seem impressed, "Ah, you're Marauder, right? Sorry about that.. I just.. I.."

"Don't say a word. You run this little pit fighting promotion, and you think you're all big shit. You probably got me here in such a rush, because you wanted to help your attendance. I'll probably go out there and fight in front of an empty crowd, and fight against some crackhead.

But I don't care about the who, I don't care about the when.. all I care about is the why.. and that's because you're paying me." Marauder folded his arms across his chest as he stared right into Campbell's eyes.

"I'm so sorry for that. But yes, I signed you because you're a tremendous talent, one that I wouldn't want to sign with any wrestling promotion. You can be the ruby in the crown of the Asylum, the former Tornado Wrestling champion leading Asylum's fight against wrestling. You can be like Borst..."

"Who's that?" Joe's mouth stood agape, and then as the words finally were about to escape his mouth Marauder replied, "Don't answer. You see, I won't lie to you for a second Joe.

That's me, you know, I'm a straight shooter, what's up here," he taped his temple, "Is what you hear out of my mouth. Truthfully, I never watched the Asylum, hadn't really heard of it until that interviewer from the News asked me. If I sign, I won't be here more than five months. And what I hear is that you're a plague, everyone who's around you has something bad happening to them. But who knows, if you were to make me champion, I'd think about staying seven months."

Joe simply shook his head while laughing, this was a true character he had in front of him.

"There's a problem Mr. Corteia- is it? Well, we're not some fucking twatfaced wrestling promotion, I can't make you champion." Marauder cocked his head confused, "There's no fixes, if you wanted to be champion, you have to go out there and bash somebodies fucken head in.. No legdrop is going to get the job done. But you know what? If you do a hell of a job out there against your 'crackhead' opponent, I'll sign you to a lucrative deal and I'll give you a shot at the World Championship." Joe reached down grabbing a pen, and rotated in his fingers, "So what do you say?"

"You talk a good game, Campbell.. I'll give you that. But you have to have atleast six zeroes, and you know what else? I want you to pick up advertisement of my grape soda, Conquest." Joe's eyebrows arched as his stared forward with no idea of what Marauder was on about. "I knew you asked, so I came prepared." Marauder reached down and unzipped his duffel bag, and out he pulled a soda can and he slammed it on the table. On the can was his picture. "That's Conquest. Taste it, it won't hurt you."

Joe eyed it cautiously before popping the soda, he lifted it to his mouth and began to drink, after one swallow his cheeks buldged and he looked Marauder in the face, but then turned his head and spat it out, "That's got to be the worst tasting shite, I've ever drank!"

"You're the first person who's ever said that to me, it's a good seller, but if I'm on your programming it'll make me that much more money. And that's why we're both here right? So is that a deal?" Marauder stretched his hand across the desk, only for it to be accepted by Joe.

"So you got your gear ready for your fight?" Marauder zipped up his duffle bag, and grabbed it by both handles and lifted it into the air showing Joe.

"Yeah, of course I do. But what I want to know is something you haven't told me yet, who am I fighting?"

"Ah, I since you don't know Borst, I doubt you'd know who this guy is. It doesn't matter you should be able to beat him with no problem... champ." Marauder nodded his head confidently as he stood to his feet, and walked out of the door. His first night in the Asylum was going to be a good one, that was for sure.

Steve Christ Vs egg NOG
(Iliad Qualifier)

Nine Inch Nails.

The Light.

The Man.

Steve Christ.

The crowd exploded as the new Extreme champion parted the curtain and basked in the blinding white light which surrounded him, along with Providence... he'd cemented his cult icon status at Asylum's seVered... the general consensus was always that to win the Asylum faithful over, you'd have to give them your blood.

And at seVered, Steve Christ did... he crucified himself for the people... and they loved him for it.

Tonight however, another task was at hand... Steve Christ had been placed, somewhat against is will... into Joe Campbell's lethal Iliad lottery, while his selection was somewhat mistifying, it paled in comparison... when placed next to his opponent.

egg NOG.

Something was wrong, if Joe Campbell wanted Steve Christ out of the Iliad, he could easily have put a problem in his way, Archangel, Krueger, Carnage... any one of Joe's cronies would've been a formidable task, unless of course... Joe wanted Christ to go to Immortals afterall.

As Christ reached the Asylum and unstrapped the title from around his waist, "Killing The Fly" by the Union Underground hit the speakers, and the crowd were once again on their feet as egg NOG made his way through the curtain... not wasting any time either.

egg NOG rushed the Asylum, pouncing over the rim and shockingly launching into Steve Christ with vicious rights and lefts... the crowd exploded with disbelief as egg NOG's face grew ever redder, finally driving Christ down to one knee with a solid punch to the temple.

Christ struck back, catching the Dairytown hero with a stiff low blow, as egg NOG staggered about the Asylum on jellied legs, Christ picked up his barbed wire wrapped Extreme title, and took a valiant swing.

Just as egg NOG ducked.

And leapt.

VAN DAIRYNATOR!

The crowd exploded, as egg NOG leapt and spin kicked the extreme title slap bang into the face on the man who possessed it, Christ well back to the canvas, his face now a crimson painting as a result of the barbed wire being kicked into his skull.

1

2

3

4

5

Christ was up, not surprisingly... the man, if anything... had proved his resilience to the angry mob, as ironic "N-O-G! N-O-G!" chants broke out as tribute to egg NOG's spectacular strike, Christ was now furious... he picked up the title belt again and started to swing viciously, egg NOG however ducked and twisted away from each heavy blow, before finally crouching and attempting vey another Van Dairynator!

Scouted.

In the worst possible way, Christ knew exactly what was coming and ducked, allowing egg NOG to crotch himself viciously on the Asylum rim, he screamed in agony and clutched his nether regions, but this was the least of his concerns, as Christ took a huge swing and cracked him across the dome with a wicked belt shot.

egg NOG fell to the canvas, now bleeding as much as his agressor... who was proving once again that he was without question as agressive as he had been portrayed, Christ wasted no time in baptising the challenger in his own blood, he intricately laid out the Extreme title barbed wire up, and as egg NOG stumbled into Christ's clutched, he grasped him by the head and wasted no time...

... in sending him Into the Void.

The crowd exploded as Christ locked on the dragon sleeper... before finally lifting his opponent into the air, holding him for a few seconds to the crowd's delight... before driving him skull first into the barbed wire, the crowd exploding with cheers as he did.

The ten count was mandatory, as "Heresy" by Nine Inch Nails hit the speakers and signalled the Extreme champions cemented spot at Immortals, Christ snatched up his title and left to the chimes of the crowd, who chanted "your god is dead and no one cares if there is a hell I will see you there."

In two weeks, Steve Christ would go to Immortals.

Heaven, Hell? You decide.

Janito was sitting around, sipping at tea, while Steve was playing Super Smash Brothers Melee and constantly trying to punch Ganondorf in the balls using Jigglypuff. Beef, on the other hand, was the only one who seemed to care that Zotan held the Janitorweight title, a title that neither Beef nor Janito have held, themselves.

"Yeah, and what are we going to do about it, you sodding twat?" Janito spoke through his tea. "We're Mega Job."

"POINT." Steve said, as Pikachu just knocked him the fuck out, man.

"CRAP."

"I know. We're Mega Job. So what? We can do other things other than be Mega Job, like..."
Beef was quickly interrupted by Janito, who held up his hand a la the Rock and silenced Beef. Janito took a careful moment to pad his lips with his hankerchief before he stood up and looked at Beef.

"ARE YOU BLOODY OUT OF YOUR MIND?!?!"

Beef scratched his head in response. "Do I need to dignify that one with an answer? Of course I'm crazy. Crazy like a fox."

There was an awkward pause.

"Foxes aren't crazy, you sodding twat. Except Star Fox, but he's not bloody real."

Suddenly, Star Fox appeared. "I do too!"

With that, Fox posed with his blaster a few times before he left Mega Job's locker room. All three members of Mega Job looked at this, before they went back to what they were doing.
"The point is, you twat, is that we could always make a new bloody title."

And then, a light bulb went off for Beef. Steve casually hopped on a chair and pulled a chain at the light bulb, turning it off.

"BRIGHT."

Steve went back to nut-punching in Melee.

"I know! Let's all just trade titles with Zotan!" Beef said.

Janito slapped him in the back of the head. "Bloody hell! We don't have any titles to trade, you tosser."

Beef dropped a bunch of title belts onto the table which Janito was sitting on. Janito stared in shock at this, before examining them.

"Good lord, where in the bloody hell did you get those?!"

"Oh, these are titles nobody wants or cares about any more." Beef said, pointing at the title belts.

"That sounds so bloody stupid."

Steve stood up, having successfully knocked Ganondorf the fuck out with Jigglypuff's nose snot, and grabbed the largest belt.

"TITLE."

He took the belt and walked off with it.

Janito turned to Beef. "Well, bloody fine. It's time we showed those sodding Bowell Movement wankers who they're messing with!"

"They'd probably laugh."

Janito nodded in agreement.

Pain & Suffering Vs The Bullies
(Best-of-5 Series: Tied 1-1)

Clayton Richler and Drake Kerrigan made their way out onto the wooden ramp to the tune of “Fuck The Police” by Dope. Clayton and Drake both wore the stolen 21w tag team titles over their shoulders and carried barbed wire baseball bats in their hands. The small demographic of tA fans in the crowd cheered for the team of Pain & Suffering as they made their way down to the cage. Really, they were just hoping for a bloody fight.

“I Hope You Die” by the Bloodhound Gang then cut into the warehouse sound system as the reluctant representatives for 21w, Marc Baiden and Seth Kard AKA The Bullies stepped out onto the ramp to receive an equally enthusiastic reaction. Baiden and Kard wore the stolen Asylum tag team titles around their waists and carried barbed wire baseball bats in their hands as well.

With their best-of-5 series tied at one match apiece, both teams were coming into this fight with a lot to gain and a lot to lose, and all four men had winning in mind as the bell rang. The match quickly broke out into a violent slugfest with everyone aimlessly swinging their bats all around the cage.

Marc finally connected his bat with Clayton’s knee, sending Clayton down to the mat. Drake then cracked his bat against Marc’s back, sending him down as well. Seth then took a run at Drake; Seth swung his bat but Drake ducked it and drilled the end of his bat into Seth’s abdomen.

Drake raised his bat up high in the air, lining it up directly with Seth’s backside. Drake took the swing, but Seth rolled out of the way just in time and Drake ended up nailing himself in his own thigh. The fans laughed as Drake hopped around the cage, holding his thigh in pain.

Marc then got back to his feet and clotheslined Drake down to the mat. Marc then turned around, but only to see Clayton Richler back on his feet and in a swinging position:

WHAM!

Marc Baiden flew at least a few feet in the air before crashing down onto the mat. Clayton looked at his baseball bat and smiled proudly at the damage that he had just done. Seth interrupted Clayton by nailing him directly in his chest with a yakuza kick. Clayton’s bat flew out of his hands as he dropped to the mat.

Seth then picked up one of the barbed wire baseball bats and waited for Clayton to rise to his feet. Clayton slowly got back up, but before Seth could hit a homerun off of Clayton’s skull, Drake grabbed his bat out of his hands. Seth turned around, shocked, and Drake mercilessly cracked the bat right against Seth’s head. Seth collapsed to the mat, bleeding from his cheek. The referee counted…

1…

2…

Marc Baiden looked over at his fallen comrade and jolted back to his feet, a look of fury now on his face. Drake tried to hit him with the bat as well, but Marc ducked it and kicked Drake directly between his legs.

3…

4…

Drake yelped in pain as he danced around the ring, grabbing his sore crotch. Marc then grabbed him and nailed him with a belly-to-belly suplex.

5…

6…

Marc then ran over to Seth and assisted him to his feet. Seth grabbed ahold of the cage, still shaken from the baseball bat shot. Clayton took advantage of the situation and ran at both Bullies, connecting with a flying crossbody on both of them.

Drake and Clayton then rose to their feet and looked down at the fallen Bullies. Drake grabbed Marc and hauled him up by his hair, and Clayton did the same to Seth. Pain & Suffering then simultaneously Irish whipped The Bullies into the cage. Marc and Seth bounced back, and Clayton and Drake then hit them with release German suplexes.

Drake and Clayton then began to celebrate and slapped hands. Clayton then picked up a bat and threw one over to Drake. They approached both Bullies calmly, ready to bash their brains in. But suddenly, Seth rose to his knees and nailed Clayton with a devastating low blow. Clayton immediately dropped his bat and fell to the mat, clutching his groin.

Marc then got to his feet and Drake swung the bat at him, but Marc countered by kicking Drake in his gut and nailing him with a Death Valley driver. Marc then picked up the bat, knelt down and began choking Drake out with it.

Seth Kard picked Clayton up, who was still noticeably feeling the affects of Seth’s low blow, and threw him into the cage. Clayton bounced back, and Seth nailed him directly in the back of his head with a super kick. Clayton dropped to the mat and laid there motionlessly. The referee counted…

1…

Drake finally got out of Marc’s bat-choke hold by poking him in his eyes.

2…

3…

Marc stumbled back and Drake rose to his feet. Drake then grabbed ahold of Marc and nailed him with a resounding inverted powerslam.

4…

Clayton then showed some signs of motion and started to roll around a little bit.

5…

6…

Drake then caught Seth, who was looming over Clayton, off guard by attacking him from behind and executing a wheel barrow suplex. Drake then assisted Clayton to his feet before the referee could reach the 10 count. Clayton stumbled around for a bit and finally regained composure. The referee then counted on Seth, who wasn’t showing signs of getting up.

1…

2…

Marc Baiden made his way back to his feet. His face expressed nothing but sheer anger as he picked up one of the bats from the mat and rushed toward both Clayton and Drake. Marc swung the bat, hitting Drake directly in the shoulder. He then swung again and smacked Drake in his kneecap, sending him falling down to the mat.

3…

4…

Clayton then ran at Marc. Marc swung the bat at him, but Clayton ducked and grabbed the bat out of Marc’s hands. Clayton then swung back, but Marc ducked it and grappled with Clayton, suddenly nailing him with a Northern Lights suplex.

5…

Seth then made his way back to his feet without assistance as Marc kicked the fallen Clayton. Seth slowly began to stroll over towards them, but he didn’t see Drake Kerrigan, who was getting ready to make a run at him. Drake charged toward Seth with a baseball bat in his hands and leveled him directly upside his head. The shot sent Seth stumbling backwards, out and over the top of the cage.

The match ended abruptly, but not without Pain & Suffering coming out on top to take a 2-1 series lead, and putting The Bullies into a must-win situation.

The referee called for the bell and Marc Baiden turned around in shock. He saw Seth outside of the cage and then went into a violent uproar, grabbing Drake and release German suplexing him on top of his head.

Clayton then got to his feet and ran outside of the cage. He grabbed the 21w tag team titles along with his tA tag team titles and made a run for it, but he never got far as Seth stopped him in his tracks with a dropkick. Seth grabbed the tA tag team titles back and ran backstage, all the while shouting out “Little bitches!” at the top of his lungs.

"It's going to be alright Eddie," Carson said, wrapping her arm around his shoulder and helping him down the police stair way. "You're off the hook. You should be hystatic. You have your life back."

Eddie tried to respond but came up empty. He seemed to shrug it off, letting out a sigh between sobs as he stumbled down the marble case.

"It's not like you loved her..." Cheno, in the midst of the tears and the agony, was able to pry his salty eyes away from their grief and give Carson a look that would turn any person to stone, rivaling the stare of Medusa.

"I ain't love her?" Cheno stammered out, finally able to catch his breath. "She be da funken love o my life mang. I funken know we ain't ever gonna be dere togetha again wo-mang, but she always gonna be dere, ya know?" Cheno fell down the last two stairs, stumbling into Carson's police cruiser. His head collided with the roof impacting a small dent followed by a large noise.

"It's going to be alright Eddie..."

"Funk dat mang. How da funk it'd be alright..."

"Because I'll make it..." Carson reached over holding Cheno up against the police cruiser, and softly kissed him on the lips.

Hypnosis Vs Lotus
(Iliad Qualifier)

The women's champion facing off against a man to whom success was no stranger... a former Television and United Kingdom champion, the stakes as always in the Asylum... were high, for Hypnosis... this was a chance to cement his spot as one of the Asylum's leading combatants... should he defeat Lotus, he would go on to not only compete for the Asylum championship and possibly the Immortal title later in the night, but he would also find himself cast into the straight Asylum and 21w war, the Iliad... as a member of team Asylum.

A gleaming oppertunity for a man who felt wrong done by Mark Knight's promotion, he had always been the black sheep... the outcast, perhaps at Immortals he could pledge his allegiance once and for all.

For Lotus however, the window of oppertunity was very much open... as the Women's champion, she not only had the chance to defeat the number one contender for the Asylum championship, but she also had a chance to cement her place as possibly the only female competitor in the Iliad, women main eventing wrestling shows were few and far between, but maybe just maybe... Lotus would have her chance to shine.

"Triumph" by Wutang hit the speakers, and the women's champion parted the curtain with the championship gold gleaming around her waist... she made her way down the aisle and clambered up into the Asylum, preparing for what would surely be a battle ahead.

"Brutality" by Urban Voodoo... and with it, and number one contender...

... the number one contender...

... the number one contender?

The track continued to blast through the arena but Ty Hughes was nowhere to be seen... the crowd started to become unsettles as Lotus paced about the Asylum, stretching and awaiting her...

SMACK!

The crowd erupted as Hypnosis appeared from nowhere... presumably via the crowd, clasping a steel chair he leapt into the Asylum and hesitated none whatsoever in swinging a mighty blow across the spine of the female champion, Lotus staggered to the canvas as Hypnosis dropped the chair and kicked at her mercilessly, the crowd stood shocked and stunned as he took a handfull of her hair and proceeded to bitch slap her across the face.

Demon? Maybe not before... but certainly now.

He grabbed her by the belt... and using that and her hair, propelled her cranium first into the Asylum mesh with a sickening smack.

Hypnosis picked up the chair, tapping it menacingly on the canvas as Lotus tried to get to her feet, had it been the fans Wrestling organization... the explanation for this would have an attempt to create a flaming chair, not here however... Hypnosis was simply tapping out of thinning patience, as Lotus staggered to her feet, he took a mighty swing.

And missed.

The sheer momentum spun the number one contender around in circles... completely out of sorts and dazed, he fell subject to several stunning kicks from the women's champion, striking out furiously with several stiff kicks to Hypnosis' knee... as Hypnosis staggered, Lotus vaulted, catching him with a massive spin kick and knocking him to the canvas with a thud...

But not for long.

The Demon rose furiously, swinging wild punches at Lotus as she ducked and evaded with everything she could, suddenly... he caught her, a stiff kick to the ribs doubling her over for just long enough to let the proffessional wrestler in... in a split second, she'd been hoisted and powerbombed to the canvas with a solid thud.

As Hypnosis brought her up for a second powerbomb however... Lotus brought the chair which she'd managed to grab with her.

CRACK!

Hypnosis staggered around, victim of a stunning chair shot, Lotus dropped the chair and fell back, looking to take Hypnosis down with a hurricanranna, unfortunately however... Hypnosis' counter for this proved to be a devastating one.

Hypnosis I aka the Hypnotiser.

Call it what you will, Hypnosis locked in the elevated texas cloverleaf and locked it in hard... Lotus writhed in agony, desperately trying to get to the mesh and complicate the hold... to no avail however, Hypnosis dragged her to the center of the Asylum and sat the hold in... with no escape, Lotus was fading fast... and tapped out to evade any further injury.

Hypnosis was going to Immortals, not only to face the Inmate, but to face 21wrestling head on as well.

As "Brutality" by Urban Voodoo kicked up once again, Hypnosis disrespectfully booted Lotus' women's championship across the Asylum and left her laying in the center of the Asylum, a beaten woman.

She got up from her knelt position, slowly taking a walk over towards the bathroom door. She opened it slowly, before calling out.

**

Eddie Cheno laid in bed, his shirt undressed and presumably completely naked under the covers. He seemed to be a wreck even during a complete peaceful state such as sleep. He tossed and turned, his hair down from his normal afro size, and the water under his eyes had continued to collect.

He heard a small creak and immediatly got to a sitting position in the bed. "Dis ain't be my funken house mang..."

"Eddie!" It was a voice calling to him. "Eddie, I drew the bath, you want to come in now?"

Nerva nodded. “I know. Let’s do this.”

Providence’s music came over the speakers. Nerva couldn’t use her music anymore; Joe owned it. Technically, she couldn’t call herself Nerva anymore. Joe owned it all.

The crowd gave a big cheer for Providence as he pushed through the curtains with the TV Title in his hand. Nerva followed closely behind. They walked down the aisle and entered the cage, Nerva looking at the ground with her hands on her hips. She took the microphone from the ring announcer as the music faded out. Providence rested his forearms on the steel rim and focused his attention towards the entrance.

“Joe,” said Nerva. “I’ve had enough.”

Cheers.

“For a good two months, I lived through your shit. It all goes back to when I lost the Asylum Title. You had The Movement out of the way. You won.

“But winning is never enough. You didn’t just want me to lose the game. You wanted to kill my spirit. And I’ll be the first to admit, Joe, you did a good number on me.” She took off her tank top to reveal all of the scars on her back, breasts, stomach, and shoulders. “I don’t know how long these scars are going to stay on my body, but they’ll stay in my mind for a long time.

“Joe, Zoe, I don’t want to be controlled anymore. All I want is my freedom. I want my life. Give me back my life, damn it! If you don’t give it back, I will fight. I’m not afraid to fight anymore.”
Joe pushed past the curtains, followed closely by Zoe. He already had a microphone. “Slag, I already own your ass. So why don’t you march it up here. I’ve got a dog beating ready for you.”

“You don’t want me to come up there, Joe,” said Nerva, “because it won’t look pretty for you.”
Joe raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Oh? What’s this? Standing up to me, Nerva? Ah, you must be stupid. You’re not going to be fighting for your freedom anytime soon, slag, because you simply can’t make me. I own you, don’t you remember? So you’ll come here, oh yes you will, you’ll bend over, and yes, you’ll scream when I shove this cane up your ass. Think about it, think about what’s best for Laura, your dead whore of a best friend’s accident child.”

Nerva began to show weakness. Her head went down. She took deep breaths. She wanted to kill Joe right there. Providence put a hand on her shoulder and took the microphone.

“There’s something called leverage, Joe,” said Providence. “I’m the TV Champion. Next to the Inmate, I’m your most important guy. What would happen if this important guy, say… oh, I don’t know, walked over to 21w and dropped the title to Knight’s feet? And yeah, I know, you’re probably thinking of stripping me of the title, but-”

Nerva took the microphone from Providence. “But remember back to June,” she said.

“Remember when you tried to strip me of the Asylum Championship? It didn’t quite work now, did it? You can’t strip Providence of the title. According to your rules, the only way he can be stripped of the TV Title is if he gives it up on his own accord.”

Joe began pacing on the stage. “You’re not going to 21w, Providence. You’re not! You’re under contract to the Asylum! You’re not going!”

Providence smiled and took the microphone back. “Watch me, Joe. I’m the TV Champion. This belt is mine. Just watch me walk.”

Joe held out his hand. “Okay, okay, wait one minute. Let’s just wait and talk this out. Let’s reason, yes, let’s reason. I am a reasonable man. Within reason, what do you two want?”
Providence gave the microphone to Nerva.

“What I want, Joe,” she said, “is what I told you already. I said I wanted my freedom and I said I would to fight for it. I know that you’re not a man to hand things over, Joe. I can understand that. In the Asylum, you fight for everything you’re worth. Well, I wanna do that.

And I know, Joe, you’re going to be a busy man at Immortals. Well, actually, you’re just a pussy, but that’s beyond the point.”

The crowd laughed, but Joe was not amused.

Nerva went on. “I want a match with that bitch beside you, the vindictive little woman who got me into all of this shit in the first place. Give her to me at Immortals and let me fight for everything I once had. I want it all back.”

Before Joe could reject the offer, Zoe put her hand over the microphone and spoke with him.
“Zoe,” said Nerva, “you’re a cunt. I wish you’d die. I did everything for you and you threw it all back in my face! You got half the job done, Zoe, but it wasn’t enough. Why don’t you finish the job at Immortals? You’ve got a chance to break me down once and for all. Fight me, bitch.”

Zoe patted Joe on the shoulder and assured him she knew what she was doing while she took the microphone. “You’re on, slag.”

The crowd cheered. Zoe and Joe disappeared behind the curtains.

Ricky Wasp Vs Eddie Cheno
(Iliad Qualifier)

But results aside, black and white was most certainly the issue at hand... in Ricky Wasp stood 6'9" and 292lbs worth of focused hatred, hatred for those that were different, hatred for those whom in the eyes of his father, were inferior.

On another night... Ricky Wasp versus Eddie Cheno would have been an epic tale of triumph in the face of adversity, each man fought his own personal battle... and standing before him was his personal demon.

Unfortunately however, on this night... Eddie Cheno was already a broken man.

As the harrowing sound of "The Shawshank Redemption" by Thomas Newman echoed through the arena, Richard Williams, II and III respectively, parted the curtain... the Father standing in the eerie shadow cast by his monsterous son, the two paced down the aisle... recieving a mixed reaction as they went, while Wasp's beliefs were far from favourable, his talent in the Asylum went without question.

The two reached the Asylum just as "Smoke Two Joints" by Sublime hit the speakers, and a somewhat indifferent Eddie Cheno walked down the aisle, on other nights... the mere presence of a racist biggot would've been enough to provoke him into battle, tonight however... too much water had already passed beneath the bridge, and Cheno's mind was definately elsewhere.

Which proved to be very, very unfortunate.

SMACK!

The juggernaut Wasp didn't wait, storming out of the Asylum and completely levelling Cheno with a right hand in the aisle, as Eddie staggered to to his feet, he became the victim once again, as Wasp opened up his body and sent several crushing knee's into his abdominal region, as Cheno gasped for air, he was promptly whipped with agression to the steel ring steps, hitting them with a clang and falling to the arena floor with a thud, the crowd already murmuring in a somewhat worried manor.

This continued, as Wasp lifted Eddie Cheno above his head like a ragdoll, and tossed him clean over the Asylum rim, from the outside... to the inside.

The crowd started to stir as Wasp paced up the steps, his father barking commands and concealing inner delight as Wasp reached the Asylum and send several hard kicks into the ribs of Cheno as he tried to struggle to his feet, each one elevating Cheno from the canvas before sending him back down to it with a thud... as Cheno backed into the mesh to lean and rest, he quickly found the huge boot of Ricky Wasp jammed sternly in his throat, choking the air from within.

Suddenly however, Cheno was free and able to breath, filling the arena however... silent worry.

Cheno looked up just in time to see all 292lbs of Wasp rushing across the Asylum full steam ahead, Cheno's eyes widened... but luckily, he managed to take evasive measures... quickly rolling our of the way as the massive Wasp crashed legs first into the Asylum rim, almost toppling over headfirst.

Richard Williams II hollared with discontent as Wasp grimaced and hobbled about, Cheno was now on his feet... and like a shark with the scent of blood, was biting away... kicking into Wasp's knees menacingly, before finally rushing in and catching Wasp with a chop block.

To no avail.

The crowd gasped as the big man refused to go down, Cheno rushed in again... but this time, shockingly... was caught by Wasp and raised high into the air with an inverted military press, the crowd gasped in shock as they witnessed Ricky wasp bring Eddie Cheno down from well over seven feet in the air, across his massive knee.

The crowd were silent once again.

Cheno was limp, bent awkwardly across the knee of a man who on a better day, he would have fought to the death, today however... Wasp, although he should have been... was not the issue at hand.

And as Wasp astonished the crowd by raising Cheno up into "Purity"... a wicked choke, Cheno felt himself gradually slip into unconsciousness... usually, Wasp would hurl his opponent to the ground, but on this night, he'd been the hunted that had slain the prey... arrogantly, he lifted Cheno up and down with a few suggestive reps, the referee checked Cheno's arm and quickly called for the bell... as he did... Wasp finally hurled his limp body to the canvas, breathing heavily... his eyes bulging, he turned to his Father, who for the first time in weeks... nodded in approval.

"The Shawshank Redemption" by Thomas Newman qued up again, as father and son made their way up the aisle victorious, Eddie Cheno lay limp in the Asylum... defeated on this night, but surely not prepared to allow the encounted with Wasp to be their last.

And so, with Hypnosis, Steve Christ and now Ricky Wasp... the Iliad team started to take shape.

Marauder Vs ???

Marauder stepped out into the arena, and his eyes widened as he noticed tens of thousands of ven spitting fans packed into this arena. He walked toward the ring perplexed at why a group of people would come and watch two people beat each other to a bloody pulp, and the crowd in return cursed and booed Marauder not entirely because they were familiar with him, but the fact that they could smell that he was a wrestler who's days are starting in the Asylum, this was the beginning of the rest of his life.

Marauder jumped up the steel steps and stepped over the rim and entered into the ring. He jumped around and began to shake all the kinks out of his system, he went back to bounce off the ropes, but he stopped as he noticed.. no ropes. As his music slowly faded out, he watched the mass of humanity in front of him, a bunch of heathens, and in his normal voice Marauder said words that no one else could hear, "Where's Osama when you need him?" The crowd chanted, and screamed and were the only source of noise in the arena, as Marauder was forced to wait minutes without seeing who his opponent was it finally wore on him, as he walked to the edge of the ring and demanded a mic, and soon after his wish was granted.

"What the fuck is this?" Marauder stood there as the crowd slowly calmed down, "Isn't this supposed to be a place where you fight? Where these guys are supposed to be so hardcore, that they kill each other. So fucking tough, they get shot, are believed dead.. and come back to fight. So if that was the case, why isn't there a motherfucker out here to fight me?!" The crowd began to boo Marauder as he walked and faced the crowd and pointed out a woman in the crowd, "Yeah, you got it right you fat sack of shit, that's because they fear me. They fear the fucking Conquistador, even your champ, whoever the hell he is. Because they all know that I am..."

Marauder's train of thought was broke, as the crowd began to chant "Who the fuck are you?!"

"I am.."

"Who the fuck are you?!"

"I AM.."

"Who the fuck are you?!"

"I AM.."

"Who the fuck are you?!"

"I AM..!..."

"Adrenaline Rush" by Twista, everyone in the arena goes crazy as one of Asylum's favorite sons, made his way out into the arena, ready to put a beat down to another non Asylum wrestler. And as Cornelius got near the ring, Marauder turned around he squinted his eyes, and when he saw who it was he began to hold his stomach in a hard laugh. He was right, Joe was going to send a crackhead fighter against him, too bad that crackhead fighter just happened to be his little brother. Corteia Family Reunion 2002, but there wasn't going to be any hugs in this one. Carnage's theme faded and Marauder and Carnage stood in a faceoff, but Marauder had a problem keeping a straight face while looking at his brother. The crowd took the opportunity to use an adapted ECW chant, "Carnage is gonna kill you! Carnage is gonna kill you!" Marauder shook his head and raised the mic back to his mouth..

"Long time, no see Corny." Marauder raised his left hand and violently tussled Carnage's hair, "I suggest you go back to the back, and get the real opponent for me. Mom wouldn't be too happy to see me beat you to a bloody pulp again. You know what? Fuck mom, fuck you too.. if this is the competition Joe's got for me, I'm out of here." The crowd booed as Marauder began towards the cage wall, but Carnage burning with anger at the words Marcus had for their mother, he grabbed Marauder's arm turning him around, and nailing him with a vicious uppercut putting Marauder on his back.

"Don't talk about Mom like that," Cornelius stood above his brother and signalled for him to get up to his feet, slowly Marauder took him up on the offer. The bell rang, so this was an official Asylum fight, and it was only the second time ever the two brothers competed against one another in a match, last time Marauder bumped the booking walking out causing a no contest between he and his brother in TW2k.

As Marauder was back on his feet he slowly circled around the ring, finally taking his younger sibling seriously, and the two got into an arm and collar tie up, showing his advantage in strength Marauder threw Carnage down to the mat. Carnage was back on all fours and charged forward with a tackle to Marauder's right knee, but the older brother leapfrogged the attempt. He grabbed Cornelius by the shirt yanking him to his feet and viciously sending him face first into the cage. Marauder began to send violent stomps to the back of Carnage, finally bringing him to his feet and right into a DDT! Marauder hooks Carnage's leg..

1..

2..

3...?

Marauder looked up at the referree confused at why he wasn't counting, this match should be over now. But it was broken to Marauder that there's no pinfalls in the Asylum, "FUCK!" Marauder brought Carnage to his feet, and sent his younger brother in for an Irish whip, but it's reversed by Carnage, who locks a rear waistlock and sends Marauder flying with a release German suplex!

And in the fly by Marauder's right knee smacked against the steel rim of the Asylum, bouncing off with amazing velocity as the big man fell to his back. Carnage was back to his feet, ready to pounce on his brother, but as he looked down he watched Marauder whimper as he held his knee rolling around the mat in pain. Carnage yanked the pained knee from beneath Marauder, he stepped over and locked a single leg crab on his brother who screamed in pain trying to fight. Finally he dug deep reaching down somewhere in the depths of his soul to fend off the pain, as he scratched away at the mat, reaching forward, and finally he grabbed the cage.. he grabbed the cage! He grabbed the cage!

And as Carnage continued to arch back further on the wounded leg, Marauder felt the pain not only of his knee, but the pain of not knowing the rules in a foreign enviornment. Finally Carnage relinquished the hold, and jumped back to his feet, and he pulled the knife from his pocket. Pushing the knife into the pant leg of Marauder, cutting it off above the injured knee. With a stomp of the boot Marauder was sent skirting across the ring crawling in pain. As he got to the wall, he pulled himself up to his feet holding his mouth taut, trying to fight off the pain in his knee.

Carnage watched him with a smile, he went and called for two chairs, and a ring attendant threw them both in the ring. Carnage put the knife back, and then reached down grabbing both chairs holding them, and then he put one back down and kicked it over to his brother.

As Marauder eyed it curiously, Carnage told him to get it, and the moment he bent down to pick up the chair, Cornelius Corteia charged at his brother with a vengeance hit Marauder with a disgusting chairshot to his brother's head. Carnage was on top of him, and began to nail Marauder with constant crossface shots to Marauder busting open the Conquistador's nose.

Carnage stopped and picked his chair up again, and stepped across the ring. "Pick it up, I won't hit you first this time." Slowly the heap of a man that was Marauder pulled himself to his feet, grimacing, and this time he was standing with the chair. "You never loved our parents, you always bullied me.. I just want you to feel what it felt like." Carnage slammed his chair down, only for it to be blocked by Marauder's shot, he tried again, and the limping Marauder valiantly blocked the second attempt. But the third time Marauder was faster as he jammed the chair into Carnage's gut doubling him over, then in a wild shot with the chair he smacked Carnage in the ear knocking him off balance. Marauder pulled his fist back, and eyed Carnage up, and slammed his fist into his face bloodying Cornelius' mouth up.

He swung the chair again, but it was deflected by a chair uppercut from Carnage nailing Marauder right in the chin while sending a tooth flying. A dizzy Carnage dropped his chair, grabbed onto Marauder and nailed a double arm DDT on the chair!

After the manuever Carnage stumbles back to his feet, he touched his ear again this time feeling blood running down the side of his face. He grabbed one chair, and unfolded it sliding it around Marauder's knee, the other he snapped up in his hands. And using his best balancing act he climbed up on the rim, it felt as if wind gust were going through the arena, as he struggled staying up, on the cage. But finally holding the chair to his chest, he jumped off and hit a chair-on-chair-on-knee splash!

The kinetic energy pulsing through the collision sent Carnage flying off holding his chest in pain, and Marauder woken up screaming in pain of his own as he bounced over the mat, holding his right knee. Cornelius grabbed onto Marauder, pulling him close to the cage and immediatley bashed his face repeatedly against the steel mesh. Carnage grabbed the chair and again and went on a rampage smacking the chair into Marauder's knee, Marauder rolled trying to fight against all the pain, but Carnage would stop he was enjoying it too much.

Finally he thrusted the chair in the air as he screamed and the crowd went wild.

Carnage brought Marauder to his feet, and hooked a rear waistlock and hit the snap German suplex! He was up top and finished it off with a flying elbow drop! As Carnage got his way to his feet, the ref began to count it was over. Carnage won, and just exorcised a demon.

And maybe in the process... robbed wrestling, be it 21w... X-W... or A! of one of its greatest talents.