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"you
are enemy
Opening... To
the killing fields. The
battle grounds. The
dead zone. The
name wasn’t a coincidence; this was it. Conflict, a chance to
settle scored, to put right months of wrong, it was time, everyone had a
nemesis, and tonight, one way or another, that nemesis would pay. Impetigo
would face Khmer later in the show, a bitter rivalry stemming from the
permanent injury of “Yo Mama” Callous, the two weren’t strangers,
previous battles in the month ending with little, maybe tonight, would
be the night. The
oppressive Nerva would be in action too, her aim… to change the way of
thinking for the one known as Lotus, granted… it wouldn’t be easy,
but Nerva… and the rest of the Movement, had less conventional ways of
influencing others, and with the Women’s title on the line, things
were sure to get interesting. The
team titles had also sparked a bitter rivalry, events leading back to
the previous year coming around again, this time to play out another
chapter in the Dissident & Syndication chapter, thus far… the
scores were tied, could on team edge past the other? Rave
Caprino was also speculated to be in attendance, the mere thought
brought forth assumptions that he would have something to say, after
all… a show involving Rave Caprino, is rarely without controversy. Another
bitter rivalry had come around just in time for Conflict, they say that
opposites attract, and in a purely hate driven sense, this was true…
pure fighter Villam Ender singling out the man whom had strengthened his
wrestling ties recently by signing for 21st Century
wrestling; Hypnosis… the Television Champion, tonight… they’d
battle in a Hell in a Cell match, the winner; would walk out with not
one… but two Asylum titles. And
who could forget the main event… perhaps the most bitter rivalry of
all, Asylum champion Angel Dalton defending his title against Borst, the
irony was that the match could just as easily been completed via a
handshake, Dalton didn’t want the title and Borst did, but things in
the Asylum were never that simple. All
of this, and a bitter individual was set to return, who he was… would
be elementary in the end. Without an error in sight.
Unwelcome guest.
The
Cinergy Field was packed, without question, after a year of proving
their worth, the Asylum’s product was finally catching on, people were
beginning to take notice, and the Asylum was now regularly filling
arena’s well prior to making appearances. For
Joe Campbell, this was as good as it got, rolling in the cash, he’d
stolen someone else’s idea and made it his own; granted… there was
still the odd idiot who’d claim that Joe’s creation wasn’t
legitimate fighting at all, but that had never been Campbell’s
intention in the first place. Like
it or not, the world was filled with marks, idiots that couldn’t see
any further away than the end of their nose, unfortunately for planet
earth, there people were the majority, idiots who’d happily spend 25
dollars to be told what to think, and believe what they see. Joe
knew this, and in building the empire, he also knew that there was no
profit to be made by fighting it out in a cardboard box somewhere, take
it to television, make it the norm; make it profitable and more
importantly, marketable… exploit the blood, the sweat, the tears and
the emotion, and shove it on a fucking t-shirt for some idiot to buy,
this wasn’t fighting as the world knew it. This
was, for the marks… fighting as Joe told them it was. Suddenly,
the attending fans explodes, “Conflict” pyrotechnics exploding with
wild oranges, “Conflict” by Disturbed rocking the arena as
Asylum’s February PPV went live on TNN air, suddenly, things died down
to complete darkness, the crowd buzzing in anticipation, before
exploding again, sentences previously appearing on the Asylum website,
exploding onto the video wall. “An
error in conclusion This
was it! Whoever was returning, was doing so right now at the start of
the PPV, suddenly… an extremely familiar sound blasted through the
arena, the sounds of a song heard regularly on WWF T.V. The
theme… of WWF’s Maven!? The
crowd exploded! Maven? On Asylum T.V.!? Why? Suddenly however, a huge
sigh of anti climax turned into a cascading wall of boos, no Maven; just
Joe Campbell, walking onto the ramp with a microphone in hand. “Just
as I fucking suspected!” Joe snarled. “Another
crowd full of fucking wrestling marks! I can tell from the fucking pops
for this shit music, you’re all fucking marks… what!? Some big
eyebrow sporting, underpant wearing twat is coming out!? By god! Lets
cheer! This faggot is bound to get his arse kicked, but he has namby
pamby music anyway! Hoorah for the fucking loser!” Joe said, the crowd
hurling trash at him as the music continued to play in the background. “Fucking
pathetic.” Joe sneered, spitting on the ramp in disgust. “Listen
to this fucking shit? ‘I wanna take a flight around the stars’? What
the fuck is this hippie shit? No wonder the WWF only ever plays thirty
seconds of this pretentious bullshit, they want you to mark out, not
vomit up this mornings roast potatoes, what a load of crap!” Joe
continued, more shite from the crowd heavily pelting him. “Yep,
an arena full of fucking marks, I can’t remember seeing this much shit
in one place since we went to Hawaii and had that arena full of Kenny
Rock fans, makes me want to cry… you fucking people, why but tickets
for my fucking show? I don’t like you… the guys backstage don’t
like you… to just fuck off… if you want to cheer for guys like
Maven, go and watch fucking BodyCount, or some of the shit 21 wrestling
usually airs, cause’ I don’t want you, I’d rather hear the silent
reaction of 10,000 empty seats than you lot marking out for some fucking
music, feh.” Joe sneered. “Nyahaha,
saying that… how does it feel now that you realise all of that money
you earned at McDonalds is going straight into my pocket? Hmm… I
thought so, bit pissed off now, well lap it up, I’m gonna spend it on
booze and women, and I don’t think I’ll put any back into the
Asylum… so la dee da… enjoy the show.” Joe said, only to be
quickly cut off. “I
AM HATEEEEEEED!” The
crowd explodes, “I Am Hated” by Slipknot exploding over the
speakers, as Joe Campbell turns on the aisle to see Rave Caprino
exploding through the curtains, a microphone in hand and a pissed off
expression on his face. “Shut
the fuck up!” Rave roars at the crowd, who only pop louder, as he
fixes an icy glare on Joe Campbell. “What
the fuck do you want metal head? I suppose you’ve come to beat me
up… blah blah blah, just be aware that the boys ain’t too far away,
so any shit from you and you’ll get a sledge hammer up your arse…”
Joe remarks, Rave not looking to impressed. “Up
the ass, I would’ve thought that was you’re speciality, fuck.”
Rave fires back, Joe looking furious. “But
no, I didn’t come here to waste my time shit kicking you, bitch… I
came to ask, no… tell you, that I’m fighting whoever wins the
main event tonight, next Sunday.” Rave sneers, Joe laughing and
shaking his head as the crowd continues to support Caprino. “Timing
is off melon head.” Joe begins “April fools day is months away, and
if this is an attempt at humour, then I’d go back to cracking skulls,
considering that that’s all you seem to be capable of anyway, tell me
bigshot Caprino, why exactly
should I give you a title shot?” Joe retaliates. “Because
if you don’t, you can kiss your fucking Pay Per View good night,
I’ll start off by smashing the fuck out of this big screen, then
I’ll use you as a fucking missile to throw into the crowd, then I’ll
kill… one at a time, every last fucker that comes through that curtain
to stop me, how’s that sound?” “Grate.”
Joe replies, an attempt at sarcasm “But we don’t want you doing
that… do we, now seriously… why should I give you a match?” Joe
says, tapping his foot impatiently. “Because,
I’m the fucking blood, sweat and… well, not tears… of this
promotion, I embody all that this place should be, but isn’t…
I should be the fucking champion, these people don’t want to see some
nice guy faggot parading around with the belt, they want me… they want
violence, they want a glimpse of what society tells them they can’t
do, so what’s it gonna be? Title shot, or destroyed PPV?” Rave
sneers. “Hmm,
tough one.” Joe begins “I tell you what, prick… who don’t you
back up some of that spiel that just came out of your mouth, why don’t
you prove that you are what you say you are? Why not… earn
you’re shot? Why not… Rave Caprino, versus… the
Inmate! here
tonight?” Joe says, a sly grin on his face. “Deal.”
Caprino fires right back. Joe
struts up the aisle, walking past Rave but not breaking the icy stare. “Oh,
and Joe?” Rave says, Joe turning around. To
feel a swift boot the the testicles from Rave.
Despondency I.
Clayton Richler could hear once-familiar roars of the fans from the inside as he approached Cinergy Field. The chanting now represents something of nostalgia... a lost career, a lost life. Whether he would get the opportunity to experience those roars again, he was unsure. Most likely not. The chances of Drake actually showing up here were non existant. Clayton walked up the stairs of the lobby, in hopes of finding Joe Campbell's office to offer some sort explanation concerning this wayward search for Drake Kerrigan. Drake wasn't showing up... and Clayton was losing hope. His dreams were going to be shattered for a second straight time. Then, a man approached from the top of the stairs. "Well, you must be Clayton Richler. Mr. Campbell is busy right now... but, wait... where's Mr. Kerrigan?" Clayton glanced around behind his back before replying, just to make sure. "Not here. He could sh--" "What!? ... We made it very clear, Mr. Richler, that Mr. Kerrigan has to be here with you or the deal is nullified. Now if you will excuse me, I have business to attend to." The man turned around and walked into a large office. All Clayton could do was sigh, as he continued his way on up the stairs. The time was ticking, and the sand in the hour glass of hope was quickly running down.
Khmer and Impetigo were set to do battle in the Asylum cage this Saturday night. But things always change. “Know Your Enemy” signaled the entrance of Khmer, with microphone in hand. He stalked towards the cage, ready to gain redemption for his friend Callous. With his hands taped, and a cold stare plastered on his face he waited for Impetigo. Big D and the Kids Table’s “Conserve” blasted over the PA System sending the massive crowd into a series of chants and cheers. Impetigo and Wonder Hanna walked out hand in hand through the curtain. Before they could make it down the ramp, Khmer cut their entrance short. “Hold it right there, you stupid fucks.” Khmer shouted over the microphone. Impetigo and Hanna continued to walk towards cage side. Khmer started up again, “ Tonight I’m scheduled to settle the score with Impetigo. The man that put my friend Callous into a coma. But, was he really the one to fucking smash his brains in three times with a baseball bat? No, he wasn’t.” The fans in attendance and both Impetigo and Hanna looked confused. What was he trying to get at? “ That slut you call Hanna was the one that really sent Callous into the coma!” Khmer paused, allowing the crowd to shout profanities at him. “ So, I really don’t understand why the hell I’m out here fighting Impetigo… when I could be getting full redemption and kicking Wonder Hanna’s whore-ass all over the arena!” Impetigo jumped onto the steel steps leading into the cage, and proceeded over. He immediately got in the face of Khmer, grabbing the microphone from his hands which sent the crowd into a series of cheers. “Are you actually telling me you want to step into the ring with Hanna, a women?” Impetigo queried. Khmer nodded. “I can’t believe you.” Meanwhile Hanna grabs a steel chair, and makes her way around to the other side of the Asylum cage. She silently makes her way into the cage. Impetigo starts up again with a smile, “So, you definitely want the match with Hanna, huh?” Grabbing the microphone Khmer replies; “ I was sent here to do a job. And I’m going to finish it.” “Well… You’ve got it!” Impetigo shouts into the microphone, the crowd erupting in approval. SMACK~! Hanna drills Khmer in the back of the head with the steel chair! She then brings him to his feet, whips him towards Impetigo. And he connects with the Filth Drop! Both, Hanna and Impetigo hurled the lifeless coward out of the cage. The two embrace in the center of the cage, while “Conserve” plays over the PA System and the fans cheer in glee. The two took care of Khmer like real heroes, doing so they put a close to their past. Callous and Khmer would be forever out of their lives, and they were grateful. Now, it was time for bigger and better things. Winner: Impetigo via Knockout
Does the bar go lower?
"Weapon of Choice". A song synonymous in the wrestling world for a single tag team that epitomized stupidity, making fun of people, and the receiving ass-kickings. Mega Job: The Epic Tag Team. The fans were unsure how to react as Beef the Slightly Annoyed walked to the cage, dressed in a bad-looking brown business suit and a toupee that would make Howard Finkel very happy to not have hair. He entered the door of the cage and called for a microphone. So he's handed one, and as the fans continued their mixed reaction, Beef greets them with a wave before he begins to speak. "Hello, everyone!" Beef began. "I'm BoBo, and I'm the owner of jOint Wrestling." "For the past few weeks, there's been some backstage chaos in our locker room. I mean, I know that I'm a very busy man, and that I morally love every single one of the wrestlers in jOint Wrestling, but the fact remains that I've decided to close down jOint Wrestling." The fans shrug, and start booing. "Now now, I'm sure you all are upset about this decision, but I've decided to do something better! I'm going to form ULTRA FED 2000!" The fans are unsure how to react. "Yes. I will be forming it with the infamous beefØn the Randomness, Hotrod Rollins, and JC McPromise. We were going to have a guy named Kenny there, too, but he... uh... he died before we got together. Then Hotrod and JC made the obvious "oh my god, they killed Kenny" joke that you probably would've seen coming before I even opened my mouth." BoBo paused before he continued. "Er, wait, Hotrod was all like "AYE, LADDIE, I DON'WANNA WORK WITH THIS `ERE FEDDIE, YEAH?" before I walked out here, and, uh, Kenny died. Hmm. Okay, hold on a second, maybe this whole ULTRA FED 2000 thing was a mistake after all. Hmm. I guess I'll just keep jOint Wrestling open and pretend like nothing happened! YEAH!" He thought about it for a few seconds. "Okay, I quit. You all suck, so I'm quitting. Fuck you all." There was another pause. "Wait, no, I want to PROVE EVERYONE WRONG. I guess I'm NOT quitting!" "Run Away" by the Real McCoy hit. That noise you just heard was the simultaneous groan of the audience. A man walked toward the Asylum cage, also dressed in a business suit, but this man wasn't just any old man. He was the only half-baseball player, half-lawyer, and half-Hispanic in the world. He was also noticably wearing ice packs under his suit around his rectum region and walking as if he has his ass spanked many a time just a week ago. That man. Is. MLB. "Hi!" MLB said into the microphone he just happened to have. "BoBo, I am very displeased in you!" MLB said towards BoBo. "How dare you neglect the needs of your employees by circumventing jOint to make ULTRA FED 2000! You're stupid! How could you do that?!" Suddenly, without warning, a guy with a T-shirt that read "BORK" popped up. "You're a fucking idiot, BoBo!" he yelled, pointing at BoBo. Almost instantly, BoBo went on a Christian-like temper tantrum, complete with falling down on the canvas while jumping up and down and smashing his hands on the Asylum mat. He finally stood up at a vertical base, and picks up the microphone again. He pointed at Bork and yelled a single word. "FIRED!!!" Bork looked around, as if he didn't give a crap if BoBo gave a gallon of blood to help the needy children around the world, before he gave BoBo the finger and walked out of the Asylum. BoBo frowned. This wasn't proceeding well. MLB looked around, shrugged, and pressed on. "Now, look what you did! I expect a mass exodus of top talent any day now!" MLB tapped his foot and waited for said exodus. Finally, Steve the Rambling Communist comes out, wearing all black, and looking very depressed and whatever. He didn't enter the cage, instead, he chose to stay out on the aisleway. BoBo recognized who he was and raised the microphone to his lips. "AH! Not you, Caleb Ozzy Real Ramen Noodles!" "INDEED." Steve said, to a surprisingly loud pop from the crowd. Our guess is that there were a lot of Kaientai fans out in attendance. Steve paused for a second, before raising his left hand toward BoBo and giving him the finger. "RESIGNATION." And with that, Steve left, supposedly to go to the Asseyeloom, a new pillow fighting fed that's only for the extreme. "Well. That's that. I quit as well, but I should be able to rejoin your fed as Yards Blinder!" MLB said. "Er, that's not breaking kayfabe, is it? Well, anyway, there you go." "But, but..." "No buts! Bye bye!" MLB said, leaving the Asylum cage. BoBo watched MLB walk away and made a face like that Indian in all of those anti-littering commercials maake. This look occured for approximently five seconds before his ignorance kicked in and he was back to being BoBo. "Anyway! I shall prove you all wrong! Yes, jOint Wrestling will live on and I will give a HUGE middle finger to all that think otherwise! In fact, I've gotten the guy from RFIW(Really Fucking Innovative Wrestling) to help me!" BoBo said, to a chorus of more groans from the crowd, then BoBo started to sound like an announcer for the Tonight Show. "Ladies and gentlemen... Jaaaayyyy Seeeeeeee MCPROMISE!!!" he bellowed, throwing his head in the direction of the curtains. And out from the curtains came... Eddie Cheno. In a business suit. With a bong. Hey, he's not Cheno without the bong. Cheno kind of stumbled down to the cage in a daze, going through one of his "shiznit trips". He entered the cage and took a microphone that a helpful attendant gave to him. He faced BoBo, blinked, then spoke. "Yo, wassup, mang?" A few fans in attendance cheered Cheno. The rest don't really know what to make of him. BoBo decided to continue the talking for both of them. "Well, anyway, I had this idea. We have a guy named Derrick Wave and a guy named Cataclysm. They had this really deep and inner meaning feud, you see. They'd get themselves locked up in an insane asylum... not unlike where I'm standing at, and they would play mind games with one another until violence erupts and they want to hurt each other." BoBo said. "Well, I'm really stupid and I don't think it'll draw, so I'm just going to... forget they planned this!" The fans booed. "Instead, I'm hiring Bubbles the Clown to book for me. First, Derrick Wave and Cataclysm will fight in a Rubber Nose match, but VulturE will come out and nail them both with seltzer bottles. Then, Derrick and VulturE will reignite their feud and VulturE "accidently" bites the head off of a circus midget, sending him to jail. Meanwhile, Cataclysm will do a trapeze act and entertain the little kids throughout the world!" he said, excitedly. The fans were not impressed. "Aww, come on! Don't you like it?!" Whack. BoBo went down, thanks to a flying milkshake to the forehead. Cheno just shrugged and started talking again. "Yo, mang, I dunno why da funk I'm `ere. I was funkin' told I'd get some funkin' shiznit if I came out here in dis`ere funkin' monkey suit, and shiznityo. So... where's the funkin' shiznit?!" Cheno demanded, the crowd cheering for every "funk" said. Cheno, upset that there's no "shiznit" for him, drops the microphone and leaves the cage, presumedly to go find some shiznit. BoBo rises to his feet, not aware of what just happened. He shrugged and picked up the microphone that he had dropped. "Er, sorry. I passed out there. Must have been brain freezer or something." There was a pause. "Hmm... JC McPromise is gone. Oh well. I can always find someone to do all the work while I take all of the credit. Hmm, I might as well get that VulturE guy to do everything." Then, "Seek and Destroy" by Metallica hits, and VulturE, who is really just Steve the Rambling Communist looking like Sting, descends from the rafters, dressed in all black and wearing a white Sting mask. He lands in the center of the ring, right behind BoBo. BoBo turns and reels in shock. "Ahhh! DON'T DO THAT!" "APOLOGY." VulturE said. "Ahem. Anyway, VulturE, how would you like to do everything while I sit back and make a nonsensical angle about the mafia that I won't tell anyone about, not even the members of the fed?" "THINK." VulturE said. He paused for a few seconds, holding his hand up to his chin to indicate that he was thinking. This period of thinking lasted all of seven seconds, before VulturE answered. "OKAY." "Good! Now, as a part of the mafia, I will have the Nod as the jOint World champion, except that he quit, so I will take his place. So I am now the Nod. And I am the World champion! WOO! Backing me will be, of course, Hardcore Mike. Come on out, Mike!" An obscure goth song played as Hardcore Mike, who was really just El Janito on stilts and with sheets tucked under his bodysuit, came to the ring. As he walked to the ring, Steve took off his mask and tiny black trenchcoat, revealing a shirt that said "OILER". "And, of course, joining him will be CHRIS OILER! Say "hi" to the fans, Chris!" BoBo said, excitedly. "GREETINGS." "Okay, now, anyway, let's go do what we came here to do..." BoBo started to leave the cage, but Hardcore Mike stopped and questioned him "Uh, wait, what were we here for?" "You know." "No, I don't know." "Yes, you do." "BoBo, you haven't told us jack! I mean, dude, I was going to go on an interesting feud with Team ALGORE, but you pulled me into doing this!" "Er, what?" "Eh, fuck it. I quit." Hardcore Mike said, giving BoBo the finger and walking away. BoBo jumped up and down and stomped on the mat before he said "fuck it" and began to leave the Asylum cage. Steve, or Chris Oiler, shrugged and joined him. Meanwhile, Mike Malone and Jean Paul were apologizing to the fans for the brain cells that they had lost during this entire segment. And will do I.
The stage was now cleared for the women to fight. Nerva hadn't been Women's Champion since December 2001, and she was aching to get that title back, not only for herself, but also for The Movement. It had to be won by any means necessary because she had to lead by example. She couldn't let anybody - especially Lotus - stand in her way holding something that truly belonged to her. "Unified" by Biohazard hit the speakers, causing the crowd to erupt in boos. Nerva stormed out from behind the curtains donning a silver boxer's robe. As she neared the cage, a ringside fan proudly held
his sign up, which read: "MOVEMENT=TERRORISM"
Nerva didn't react to the fans as she approached
the cage. The hood covered most of her face, hiding any pre-match emotions. She
walked up the steps and threw a fist high in the air to more hatred from the
crowd. On the back of her robe was The Movement's logo: an M written overtop of
a pair of lips. Before she entered the cage, she saw Nayomi Dangsta sitting in
the front row, bound by a wheelchair. She smiled and went to her.
"Hi, Nayomi," she said. "Come to see the action
first-hand?"
Nayomi didn't say a word; she only looked straight
up at Nerva, who was motioning around her waist.
"The title is coming to me, Nayomi. You can send
that 'Lotus is my successor' bullshit down the toilet after this match." Nerva
pulled her Movement tank top up to show the kiss burn on her left breast. "This
is what you rejected, and this is what will take the night. Fuck you, Nayomi.
And fuck everyone else around you who thinks you're ever gonna come back.
Because you'll never be back as long as The Movement is running the
shit."
She walked away and stepped into the ring. She
slipped her robe off and threw it to a ringside attendant. "Triumph" suddenly
replaced Nerva's music. The fans got up on their feet to cheer, and Nayomi would
have if her body would allow her, but instead she could clap for her friend.
Lotus walked to the cage with the Women's Title buckled around her waist. Nerva
stood in the middle of the cage with her hands firmly on her hips. Lotus took
the title off and held it up high for the crowd, and then entered the
cage.
She handed the belt over to the referee, who held
it up and then signaled for the bell. It sounded. Lotus and Nerva circled each
other, Lotus being the crafty rookie and Nerva being the hard-as-rocks veteran.
The two were approximately the same size. Lotus opened the bout by back fisting
Nerva in the face.
Nerva shook her face off and then
roundhouse kicked Lotus in the
gut, followed by a lift-and-drop takedown. She
mounted atop Lotus and brought the right hands down hard. Lotus held her
forearms up to block most of the punches, and then whipped her hand around
Nerva's neck. She threw Nerva off of her and got up to a kneeling position to
punch Nerva in the jaw. Nerva fell back and kipped up, and then ducked under a
high spin kick from Lotus. She waited on the champion to turn around and then
smacked her with a standing sidekick.
Lotus staggered. Nerva kneed her in the gut and
held her in a headlock, punching her several times in the head. She then ran
forward with Lotus and drove her head hard into the ground with a bulldog. Lotus
rolled to the side of the cage and stood up on one knee, holding her forehead.
This allowed Nerva to roundhouse kick her in the back of the head and send her
down to the ground. The count was on. Nayomi screamed from her ringside seat for
Lotus to get up.
And she did, at five. Nerva wouldn't give Lotus a
breather; instead, she tackled her into the cage mesh and delivered stiff
uppercuts to the gut. Lotus fought back with an elbow to the jaw, a back fist,
and a straight-line punch with her other hand. Lotus moved behind Nerva in a
fluid, circular motion and then spin kicked her in the neck. Nerva's head
whipped as she stumbled forward. Nerva turned around and went crazy with low and
high roundhouse kicks, punches, elbows, and back fists - all of which Lotus
managed to dodge or block.
Taking deep breaths in and out, Nerva paused and
waited for Lotus to attack. When Lotus threw a roundhouse kick, Nerva turned
around immediately with a tornado
kick to the face. A
massive cut appeared right between Lotus's eyes, and it trickled down her nose.
Nerva repositioned her stance, and then went for a crescent 540 kick. Lotus
ducked under it and knocked Nerva out of the air and onto the ground with a
jumping spin kick. Nerva got up and spun around with a back fist, but Lotus
ducked it and came up with a powerful uppercut to the jaw that sent Nerva back
against the cage. Lotus held onto the cage rim with both her hands and delivered
rapid-fire roundhouse kicks to Nerva's gut. Nerva took all of the kicks and then
stumbled into a doubled-over position to the middle of the cage.
Lotus jumped onto the cage rim and twirled around
with a flying ax kick, but Nerva trapped her leg and whipped her down to the
mat. Nerva cinched in a Juji-Gatame armbar. Lotus
screamed from the pain, but she could hear Nayomi's voice urging her to escape.
Lotus kicked forward with her feet, trying to get to the cage. She finally
reached the cage, and then kicked off the mesh to roll out of the predicament.
But as she tended to her aching arm, Nerva came up from behind and locked in a
half-nelson choke-out. Lotus wouldn't let Nerva's deadly grip take charge, as
she immediately backed her into the cage wall and kept elbowing her in the
mid-section. Nerva held onto the choke-out until Lotus reached her tenth elbow
to the gut, at which time she released and fell to one knee.
Lotus unleashed a smacking roundhouse kick right to
Nerva's temple and then kept her pinned down with a single-handed chokehold. She
was pushing as hard as she could on the neck's artery as Nerva made struggling
grunting noises. Nerva broke the chokehold by bending Lotus's middle finger
back, but Lotus stayed on top with vicious right-handed punches while grabbing
at Nerva's shirt with her left hand. She was truly get her first real fix of an
Asylum fight - pure, unadulterated brawling. Nerva took three more punches to
the face with blood now coming out of the side of her mouth. She blocked the
last punch, and then rolled on top of Lotus in her guard.
Instead of fighting through it, Nerva spread both
of Lotus's legs apart and locked in what was to be considered the most painful
submission in her move arsenal:
The Vaginal Claw… right down Lotus's pants.
Once again, Lotus screamed out in pain from Nerva's
not-so-sensuous touch. Nerva cranked each of her digits inward, making Lotus
feel the full nine yards of pain. It was as if she was closing Lotus's vagina
from ever bearing children. Out of desperation, Lotus lunged both of her hands
forward and pulled Nerva forward by the hair. She head butted Nerva, but Nerva
still held onto her grip. Five head butts later, the grip was released. Lotus
tried kipping up, but Nerva sent her right back down with a stomp to the vagina.
Then, Nerva held Lotus's leg in one arm and pounded viciously away between
Lotus's legs with right fists.
She stopped and took a moment to slip her tank top
off. Clad in a black bra, Nerva stood with sweat pouring down her body. Lotus
crawled to the side of the cage for safety, but Nerva was on the attack yet
again with stomps to the back. Lotus fought back with an elbow to the gut, but
Nerva punched her in the head and then slammed it into the steel mesh. She
picked Lotus up by the hair and slammed her head repeatedly into the steel rim
until a huge mass of blood poured down her face. Nayomi cringed at the sight of
Lotus as Nerva painted the chain-link fence red with Lotus's blood.
"Here's your successor for ya, Nayomi! Here she
is!" Nerva brought Lotus back up and whipped her to the other side of the fence.
She stepped forward and threw a spin kick, but Lotus ducked under it and
responded with a back kick right to Nerva's eye. Nerva staggered, and then went
down after a full-force jumping roundhouse kick from Lotus. The referee began
his count.
But suddenly, Akha appeared at the entryway and
stalked down to the cage. Lotus stood in the middle of the circle, eyes wide
open and unsure. Akha was a 6'6 monster and there was very little she could do
if she came into the cage. "Ice Cold" Stephanie Connor made the save, coming
down and jumping on Akha's back. The crowd cheered wildly as the fearless
Stephanie Connor turned Akha around and pasted her with a right hand.
Stephanie continued her offensive advantage with
kicks to the gut and rights to the face. But from behind, Jessica smacked
Stephanie in the back with a baseball bat, sending her right into Akha's hands.
Akha grabbed Stephanie by the hair and kneed her right in the left breast.
Jessica took another sneak shot, this time to the knee, sending Stephanie down
in aisle.
Meanwhile, Nerva had gotten up, but Lotus was
attacking Nerva with ferocity, kicking her from all angles and out-quickening
her with her hands. She had Nerva near the cage's rim, ready to knock her out
and retain her Women's Title. But Akha saw this, and stormed into the cage. She
came from behind and delivered a sickeningly hard Thai roundhouse kick right to
the back of Lotus's head. Lotus went down like all others did to Akha's
show-ending kick.
Jessica slapped the bat into her hand a couple of
times, and then headed for the cage. But Stephanie Connor reached out and
grabbed her ankle, desperate to save Lotus's title and well being. Jessica
smiled, turned around, and drove the bat right into Stephanie's head. She then
choked Steph with the bat, forcing her to watch her student's demise.
Nayomi sat helpless ringside as The Movement
members wreaked havoc. Nerva picked Lotus's limp body by the hair, and slapped
her in the face to send her down. The referee began his count.
Everything was a blur for Lotus. All she could hear
were numbers, numbers, numbers… she was being counted out! She had four
seconds.
Three seconds.
Two seconds.
One second.
She got up before the ref reached ten, only to see
the smiling faces of Akha and Nerva. She threw a lazy swing at Nerva, but Akha
grabbed her by the hair before she could make impact. Akha lifted Lotus up off
her feet by the hair, and Nerva unleashed a piercing back kick right to Lotus's
face. Once again, Lotus was down on the mat being counted down. Her eye was
beginning to swell into a huge purple puff, and the blood was almost an accepted
part of her face.
Showing the will to fight, Lotus got up again
before the referee reached ten. She couldn't go down to Nerva this easily; she
couldn't let Nayomi or Stephanie down. Stephanie was being strangled to death by
Jessica, and it was all for her, because she had faith in Lotus. She was
staggering, hardly conscious, with both Nerva and Akha laughing at her. She
still wanted to fight.
Outside of the cage, Jessica released her chokehold
on Stephanie, but whacked her across the head to knock her out. She climbed onto
the top of the steel rim, and hit Lotus with a missile dropkick. Lotus fell to
the mat forward, unable to lift her weight up again.
But Nerva didn't want it to end like this; she
wanted to send a message. She barked instructions to Akha and Jessica. Akha
began with her part, lifting Lotus up in a double chokehold. Jessica crouched
down behind Akha. Nerva ran forward with a blood-curdling scream, jumped off of
Jessica, and hit the Double Touch across Lotus's face.
The referee couldn't do a damn thing but count. And
as he reached ten, the Women's Title was now in The Movement's grasp. The bell
sounded and the ref handed the title to Nerva. She snatched it from his hands
and held it high in the air as garbage pelted into the cage. She showed it to
each side of the crowd, and then lowered it so that Nayomi could get a good view
of it.
Nerva smiled and slung the title over her shoulder,
and stood over Lotus's beaten body with her fellow Movement
members.
In unison, they chanted: "Nolite te bastardes
carborundorum."
Winner and NEW Women's Champion: Nerva via Knockout
Despondency II.
"Pain and Suffering". Never before did the name have such a poignant meaning. Clayton's heart was sinking, and all he could do was stand there and gaze out through a third story window of Cinergy Field. The clouds of the Ohio night weren't looking very hopeful, either. More along the lines of ominous. Nothing that Clayton could do would save his career on this night. It was all up to his former best friend, and perhaps now enemy, Drake Kerrigan. The door suddenly swung open. As Clayton turned around, there stood the face of Joe Campbell's lackey, once again. "Hello, Mr. Richler." "What is it!?" Clayton was angry, knowing the fact that he came all the way out here for absolutely nothing. "I believe there's someone here that would like to meet you." "Wh--?" Clayton's sentence was cut off, as suddenly a very formidable figure walked in the doorway. But, this formidable figure took more of a familiar tone. Clayton wasn't sure... "Drake?" "Yeah." The tall man said as he stepped into the room. And with that one word, a monumental weight was lifted off the shoulders of Clayton Richler. A new beginning. Another journey to prosperity. "Well, look who decides to finally show up." Clayton's reply was of nothing but sheer gratitude. The business man steps forward, next to the towering Drake Kerrigan. "Look... you guys have yet to sign your contracts." All Drake and Clayton could do was grin, knowingly. The Asylum was going to be their new proving grounds, and clearly, both were more than ready to prove themselves once again.
The fans in attendance watched in awe as the top of the Asylum was covered by cage covering. Having been told of the rules by the ring announcer several minutes ago, they knew what the Sealed Hell Match entailed: There would be several weapons scattered in the Asylum, and the top sealed for Ringout reasons. Only way to win was Knockout, Submission or exiting through the Asylum door, which you had to break open by force, unlike wrestling promotion cage matches. Suddenly, the attention was turned to the rampway, as “Testify” by Rage Against The Machine hit the Arena PA system. The cheers from the crowd reached a fevered pitch as out stepped Mike Bear and Fear, known as ‘Dissident’. The Asylum Tag Team Champions walked down the rampway, clutching tightly to the belts slung over their shoulders. They knew one thing: Whoever won this match would go to hell and back… And they weren’t planning on losing. As the two men stepped into the ring, “Testify” ended and a new song hit the PA system: “Crush Em” by Megadeth. The fans in attendance knew who was to step out from behind the curtains, and walk down the rampway to the ring: Syndication. The boos that emanated from the arena were shocking, slowly coming closer to the level of Boris Borst or even the deceased Kenny Rock in his heyday. The despicable acts these two men committed, from waging war to Dissident to war on Rave Caprino made them shunned and beyond the line of common sense. Hans Krueger exited from behind the curtains first, being followed shortly after by his tag team partner, Adam Nowell. The fans received a rather unhappy welcome with garbage and other debris from the crowd, but they ignored it. Hans entered the Asylum, and was quickly grabbed by Bear, while Fear grabbed onto Adam. The fans cheered as Hans and Adam were bashed in the face by each other’s face, and then double Reverse DDTed to the ground. The fans cheered as the count was made. One. Two. Three. Four. Both men groggily got up, once again, both men were double Reverse DDTed to the ground. The ref counted them again: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Both men got up again, and Bear scooped up Hans, attempting to executed an Emerald Fusion on him. However, Hans managed to wiggle out, and planted Bear to the ground with a Reverse DDT of his own. The ref counted Bear out as Adam was forearmed into the mesh by Fear. One. Hans picked up a steal chair. Two. Hans went over to Fear. Three. Hans blasted Fear from behind with the chair. Four. Hans continued to attack Fear with the chair as the fans booed. Five. Bear got up, and stared at Hans and Adam. As Hans and Adam continued their assault on Fear, Bear grabbed Adam from behind, and executed a Backdrop Driver to the ground, landing him with a sickening thud. The ref counted him out as Hans turned around. One. Hans swung the chair… Two. Hans missed Bear, who ducked under. Three. Hans swung again… Four. Bear grabbed the chair. Five. Bear rammed the chair back into Hans’ face. Six. Hans fell the ground. Seven. Hans was hit by the chair in the face by Bear. Eight. Bear dropped the chair, and walked over. Nine. Bear grabbed Adam, and executed… UnBearable. Adam, too weak to even scream in pain, much less tap, decided to try and fight it out. After several seconds, however, he passed out. The referee checked him. He raised Adam’s arm once, and it fell. He raised it again, and it fell. He raised it a final time… And it was broken up by Hans. Bear stared at Hans, and stood at him, eye to eye. Meanwhile, the referee counted Adam out again. One. Bear swung at Hans… Two. Bear connected. Three. Bear stomped Hans as he was down. Four. Bear picked up a shitestick from the wall, and pointed it at Hans. Five. Bear began to hit Hans with the shitestick. Six. Bear continued the onslaught. Seven. Bear lifted up Hans… Eight. Bear kicked Hans in the gut… Nine. Bear flipped Hans into the air… Then dropped him, as he was hit in the face by Adam. Hans got up, and kicked Bear, as Hans picked up the shitestick, and began thrashing Bear with it. The two men hit Bear with the weapons, until Hans was grabbed from behind and Full Nelson Slammed by… Fear. Hans bounced off the ground as the fans cheered and the ref started the count again. One. Adam swung at Fear… Two. Adam connected. Three. Adam hit him again. Four. Adam hit him once more. Five. Adam hit him again. Six. Fear crumpled to the ground. Seven. Adam swung at the prone Fear… Eight. Bear grabbed him from behind… Nine. Bear Release German Suplexed him. But there was no ten. Bear, however, ignored that fact, and locked onto… UnBearable Almost immediately, Adam tapped, and the bell rang. “Here are your winners…Diss…” Suddenly, “Links 2 3 4” by Rammstein hit as Joe Campbell exited. “Wait, wait, wait! You see there?” asked Joe to the referee who nodded. “Well, Hans exited the Asylum first, so REVERSE THE DECISION OR YOUR FIRED!” screamed Joe. The referee nodded and ordered a reversal. “Here are your winners…and NEW Asylum Tag Team Champions…via exiting the Asylum…SYNDICATION!” The fans went insane. Garbage, cups, hell, even chairs from the arena itself were being tossed at Hans and Adam, who weakly accepted the titles, raised it into the air, and ran up the rampway, tailing Joe, while Dissident followed them in hot pursuit, angry they were screwed out of their titles. Darkness began to engulf the Asylum once more. Winner and NEW Team Champions: Syndication
Lowering the bar, one show at a time.
While he still thought that Mega Job sucked as fighters, despite only having one match in their entire fighting stint in the Asylum, he was pleased with this other quirk about them. They love making fun of people. So just apply this knowledge, whisper in their ears, give them the material they need, and presto! You've got a way to piss people off, and you're not even the one DOING it! That was obviously a good reason why Joe Campbell was the owner of a multi-million dollar fighting organization, and everyone else were just shmucks. El Janito, Beef, and Steve stood in front of Joe Campbell, who smiled like a maniac at what kind of low, mean antics the threesome were capable of doing. Joe was finding something funny that most people wouldn't have found funny. And that's why Mega Job was here. "Beautiful!" Joe said. He was about to continue that thought, but Janito interrupted him abruptly. "WOOHOO! JOE ACTUALLY LIKED SOMETHING WE DID!" Janito yelled at the top of his lungs, jumping up and down. Beef and Steve shrugged and joined him in the jumping. "YEAH! WOO! GO US! GO US! IT'S OUR BIRTHDAY!" Beef sang. "UNTRUE." Steve boomed. "Hmm, good point, it's not our birthday. Hmm. Well, let's go out and CELEBRATE!" Beef said. "YEAH!" Janito and Steve said in unison, before they all left Joe hanging in his office. Yes, for the first time, Mega Job actually manage to leave Joe Campbell's office without tripping or running into anyone. Congratulate them. Meanwhile, Joe Campbell sat there and thought about what just happened. He then just shrugged. "Feckin' wankers." he said. He said his next twelve words with utter disdain, but with an evil grin on his face as well. "I guess I'll just make them insult some other lowly WRESTLING show."
Team players: Failure.
Cheno wandered around backstage, trying to place himself where he should be. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do, where he was supposed to be, but he knew that it was somewhere. Somewhere he wasn't. And then, stumbling backstage, tag team titles in their hands were the Syndication. Krueger and Nowell were hurting physically, but emotionally were on at the top of the rollar coaster. They were victorious, and ready to celebrate. They stopped in their tracks, looking down at the drug addict. Not in a "I'm taller than you" way, but in disgust. "Mang! Ya funken did it!" Cheno shouted, excited moreso than either of the Syndication. Then again, they did just go through war. "Sorry I couldn't funken help mang. I got funken tied up..." Kreuger and Nowell pulled back in a state of shock, doing a double take at the thoughts expressed by Cheno. Then, smiles came across their faces before they pushed beyond Cheno. Walking down the hall, tag team championship belts in their hands, they laughed to themselves for a bit. A quiet laugh, but audible to Cheno. Eddie lowered his head in shame. He had failed, falling behind, unable to help those he cared for. He was too busy, too preoccupied to help the Syndication in their time of need... although they didn't have a time of need. "Funk mang..." Was it because of his failure? Or maybe he just felt just a bit useless...
“I
Disappear” by Metallica. The
crowd erupted in a hiss of boo’s, perhaps the strongest wall of hate
Tyler Burton had ever had to face, during his entire tenure in the
Asylum, his recent actions had made him a hated out man, and the fact
that he was all that stood between Rave Caprino and an Asylum
championship, only added further fuel to the fire. He
sneered to himself, hearing the reaction he was getting just through the
curtain, and knew; as it did… that the reaction would only get worse
as he parted it. Explosive
boo’s as he pushed through the curtain, pulling on one of his gloves,
he was ready to go to work, and unfortunately for Rave Caprino, he was
to be the focus of Inmate’s task. Rave
knew this, and wasn’t about to allow a few flashy pyrotechnic’s
delay him any further. THUD! Inmate
was shocked into action, Caprino appeared to the delight of the crowd
from behind the curtain, clubbing Burton across the back of the head
with a wicked fist, sending him stumbling to his knee’s, as “I
Disappear” continued, Rave grabbed Inmate partially by the ear and
hair, and suddenly pushed his face over a small tube, the center
ominously black. Inmate
struggled as the music went on, his struggle soon however increased, as
what rave Caprino was attempting to do clicked, Inmate listened to his
own music, and realised that if he couldn’t break free soon, he might
never leave the Cinergy field. WHACK! Inmate
jolted Rave away with a solid fist to the side of the head, this
however… was not the issue, Inmate struggling, and scrambling,
desperately inching away from the ominous tube. BOOM! The
blast knocked Inmate back, the light temporarily blinding him, Rave
Caprino had tried to kill the Inmate with his own pyro, and had he not
free’d himself, probably would have, Inmate lay clutching his eyes
from the blinding light that’d exploded mere feet away from him, and
wondered just what lengths Caprino would go to to be victorious. Soon,
he’d find out. SMACK,
SMACK, SMACK! Solid
kicks, each meeting Inmate’s ribs with authority, Caprino was now up
and vigorously assaulting Inmate, who was in big, big trouble… his
vision was slowly filtering back, but for now… all he could see was
the rough shape and coloring of Rave Caprino lunging at him. Bam,
Tyler was on his feet, but not in the way which he wanted to be, Rave
hooking him by the belt, and sending him head first into the metal
structure which held up the video wall, which shook upon impact! Inmate
stumbled back, but soon tried to focus, only to see a number of bright
moving colors flashing toward him. Little
did he know, that it was he moving toward them; one of the mini video
walls! SMMMMMMMASH! Straight
through it! Inmate explodes through the glass of the Asylum mini video
wall, emerging on the other side on a pile of thick and shattered glass,
Caprino simply stands, dusting his hands off, as a severely bleeding
Inmate twitched amongst the carnage. A
referee is soon on the scene, to make the count! 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 “Fuck
this.” Caprino growled, stepping through the sparking shattered
screen, and pulling Inmate up, revealing several serious lacerations all
over his body, Caprino sent Inmate stumbling back through the broken
video, a hard punch to the head aiding the motion, Rave struck again,
punch after punch rocking Inmate back towards the edge of the ramp, and
more worryingly, the fifteen feet drop to the live broadcast area
below! The
crowd picked up, Rave suddenly taking a few steps back to charge at
Inmate who stood on the brink of the end, charging, Rave picked up a
head of steam, swinging his fist at Inmate, and sending him over the
edge~! Not.
Quite. Head
and arm suplex! The
crowd exploded, screams… sounds of dismay, Inmate hurled Caprino like
a ragdoll, through the air, and off the edge of the stage, as if by slow
motion, Caprino plummeted down into the monitors and broadcast equipment
below. Black. And
it remained that way for a good minute, Rave’s fall completely cutting
the live feed. . . . . . . . . . And
back! The gruesome sight of Rave Caprino stirring amongst broken
monitors, desks and cable, struggling to get up, he rose to his feet on
legs which motion resembled that of a new born deer; extremely shaky…
he tried to find his footing, but somewhere, deep in the back of his
mind, he couldn’t shake the disturbing clattering of steel and wheels
in motion. He
soon found out what it was. By
the time Rave had looked up, it was too late… flying towards him,
right off the stage, a massive dumpster full of assorted items. THWACK! More
dismay and despair from the crowd, Caprino, perhaps killed by the impact
of an Inmate assisted dumped, which cascaded off the ramp and connected
full whack with the side body/shoulder of Rave, who was knocked several
feet through the air and to the ground, the dumpster’s momentum
rolling right over him where he lay with a sickening bump. If
this wasn’t game over, what would be? Inmate
was still bleeding heavily as he walked down the aisle, then started up
the side of it, a barrage of abuse from the close up fans simply
ignored, he turned the corner into a space where the broadcast area once
was, and looked in disbelief. Caprino
was up. He
looked extremely hurt, perhaps a dislocated shoulder, Burton thought to
himself… Rave resembled something that’d been hit by a car, but
hadn’t quite died. “Time
to put you out of your misery, bitch.” Inmate sneered through blood
which streamed down his face, reaching into the dumpster which now lay
on its side, before rolling some barbed wire around his arm, and picking
up a chair. CRACK! A
solid blow across Rave Caprino’s skull, he rocked back, but to
Inmate’s disbelief, didn’t go down, stumbling backwards into the
crowd! CRACK! Another shot by Inmate that shocked and offended, probably
hitting a few fans in the motion, he hit Rave again, a steady stream of
blood now flowing down rave’s face. CRACK!
CRACK! CRACK! Inmate
was now furious, three more stunning shots sending Rave stumbling
backwards through the crowd, but not down? Inmate couldn’t understand
it, as Rave tumbled through the fans and finally came to rest slumped
across the steel guard rail, gasping for air! CRACK! Right
across the spine, Inmate brought down the chair, crushing Rave’s upper
body against the rail, he took him by the ribs and flung him over, Rave
falling in a heap on the other side, as Inmate stepped over the rail,
and picked Rave up by the hair, suddenly picking up momentum, as the ran
him toward the steps! Brakes. The
momentum shifted in a second, rave moving downwards and whipping Inmate,
before falling flat on his face, he watched through crimson tinted eyes,
as Inmate flew knee’s first into the Asylum steps! Suddenly,
something in Rave’s brain clicked, he remembered watching an event
early last year, where Borst had severely injured one of Inmate’s
legs, which one it was… didn’t matter, that was why some idiot
invented the process of elimination. Rave
stumbled up, as did Inmate, clutching a certain knee with a degree of
agony. So
much for elimination. Crack!
Like a vicious dog, Rave honed in on the knee, rushing and clipping it
with all his might, Inmate fell to the ground, a blood curdling scream
echoing through the arena, one… which would be followed by
another. Rave
took Inmate’s leg, before picking up the heavy steps, and placing it
delicately between them, Inmate struggled to free himself, but the
weight combined with the leverage prevented him from getting free,
meanwhile, Rave was up on the rim of the Asylum, leaping, with both feet
pointing down. CRUNCH! “AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
Inmate roared, his leg completely crushed under Rave’s body weight and
that of the steps, he roared in complete agony several times, rolling
away and clutching his knee desperately, as Rave snatched a cup of
coffee from a fan in front row, before pouring it down on Inmate again,
who roared again, the searing heat burning his flesh! Inmate
crawled away, Rave stalking up behind him, suddenly, Inmate reached the
announce table, pulling a monitor free and tossing it backwards over his
head to Rave! Who
promptly caught it. Dropped
it so that it was hanging by the cord. And
swung. SMACK! “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
Inmate roared again, and steel monitor connecting with great momentum,
with Inmate’s knee! Inmate hopped, a sheer agony grimace on his face,
he scrambled up the side of the Asylum and tumbled in, Rave following
him up, not knowing that something inside Inmate was snapping to pieces,
Rave leapt into the Asylum to find an unexpected surprise. SNAP~! A
furious, snarling Inmate grabbed Rave by the leg, adrenaline powered, he
pulled rave to the canvas and locked in the single leg crab! “EAT
THAT MOTHERFUCKER, TAP… TAP YOU FUCKING BITCH OR SO HELP ME, I’LL
BREAK YOU’RE FUCKING LEG!” Inmate roared at the top of his voice,
twisting the pulling on a defiant Rave’s leg, who refused to submit,
finally, Inmate stepped over fully and sat down on Rave’s back, who
slipped slowly out of consciousness due to the pain, suddenly… Rave
felt the grip relinquish! Natalia! “Oh!?
You want some too you fucking here?” Inmate snarled, rushing towards
her, only to be presented with an unpleasant surprise. A
taser! Zzzzzzzap!
The crowd exploded, Inmate’s body shaking furiously as the volts
coursed through it, his teeth clenched, he somehow pulled himself free,
stumbling back in shock… literally, straight into Rave Caprino’s
waiting arms! Look!
I can FUCKING wrestle. Straight
over the rim of the Asylum, Rave hurled Inmate with a release german
suplex! CCCCCCRASH! Malone
and JP scattered, their announce table exploding as Inmate’s body flew
through it, a referee was swiftly on the scene. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10! Winner: Rave Caprino via Knockout
Battle Side || Villam Chris Credible...Carnage...KVC...Token Weed...Hypnosis. Hypnosis... Hypnosis... He's the worse of them all. A traitor. This isn't about me. This is about respect. This is about the honor of the Asylum. He can't do this to us. He can't do this to me. Tonight, I strike a blow for all loyalist. A Deathblow. My theme music blared over the speakers as I made my way down the ramp. I never get tired of this song..."I must've read a thousand faces!!". The crowd however, doesn't dig it. They never do. The fucking idiots. Why do they even boo? As I look around all I can see are faces fill with hatred. Do they think that fact that they hate me will ruin the pre-destined outcome of this match? A paper cup nearly grazes me as I step into the Asylum and look above at the "hell in a cell". The people here think that they are going to get the show of their lives...they couldn't be... more wrong? Gah.... Hypnosis. Battle Side || Hypnosis Chris Credible...Carnage...KVC...Token Weed...and ME!? Villam... Villam... What a full on wanker. Traitor? Who does he think he is? He doesn't own me, that fuckhead. This isn't about honor. This is his fucking ego trip and his big mouth. Tonight, I shut him up. With my fist in his mouth. I don't give Villam time to think as I charge into the arena and down the ramp. The crowd? They're eating it up! And the cheering? Oh, well...it does matter if they cheer me or not. I use the crowd response for fuel! And low and bloody behold there I am. Standing face to face with Villam. Villam doesn't look scared...but I know deep down he is. When I kick his ass tonight, all that "I hate wrestlers" talk is gonna be a fuckin' load of shit. Battle Side || Villam We stood "Face to face" just like in his shitty theme music. The crowd was restless with anticipation. Hypnosis mumbled something to me under his breath. It really pissed me off, so I just smiled. And then I spit in his fucking face. Without even bothering to wipe his cheek he connected with hard punch into my mouth. The crowd of course cheered this on as I fell back, the bottom of my mouth filling up with blood. The cheap fuck connected with a few more blows that grazed off of my head. The ones to the body were dead on though..... ...fuck. My head smashed into the mat. Gah! It's some wrestling move, the name escapes me at the moment. No time to think when some fuckhead is stomping craters into your spine. Surprise, surprise...the crowd loves it. Well, you fucking marks...cheer THIS!! Ahaha, low blow. Gets the crowd going every time. How do you like that, Mr. Penis Winkle? Eh? What's that...you all want another!? Good. HERE YOU GO. That's right...stagger around like a good little pussy and now...time to unload. Fist after fist after fist. Do I use suplexes? NO. Do I need suplexes? NO. Just fist after fist raining down on his meatball shaped head. Fucker, take THIS! A nice crisp kick to the bridge of the nose! Right Hook! Full Roundhou- !! Fucker! Duck under MY KICK will you? Duck under THIS!! Perfect sidekick! GET THE FUCK OUTSIDE!! Battle Side || Hypnosis I landed on the flooring with a thud. The rest of the air jumped out of chest upon impact. Bloody hell, I know I have to get up fast else Villam's gonna get my arse for sure...where the fuck is he? Not behind me...Not in front of me...must be....fuUK? I look up right into one of Villam's flying jump kicks that sends me back to the floor. Gah, he's fuckin' fast. Too fast. He's already on me with more punching and kicks. He picks me up by neck the yelling more of that yank nonsense about loyalty. That's right...keep talking...get me over to the little steel stairs... He tries to ram my face into 'em. But no such luck...I reverse that shit with a full on front Russian leg sweep into those steps. Oh, how I hope I've busted open that old scar down his pretty boy snotty twat face. Fuck, better keep him down this time. Some....KICKS...to the...RIBS...should DO IT. "How do you like that, Villam!?" I scream as the crowd cheers me on. I put a few more boots in his ribs and ask him again. "I said, how do you like that, VILLAM?" More cheering...then... "Thank you, sir.
May I have another?" "ONE. TWO. THREE. FOUR. FIVE. SIX. SEVEN. EIGHT. NINE. TEN" There! Oi, wait! Fuck...this isn't wrestling. "ELEVEN, TWLEVE, THIRTEEN, FOURTEEN, FIFTEEN, SIXTEEN, SEVENTEEN, EIGHTEEN, NINETEEN, TWENTY!!" The top of his head is good and bloody now. And I make sure not to get any of that blood on me as I warm his left arm around the back of my neck and lift him....twisting...and giving him a backdrop into those same steps! He rolls off of them like a barrel off a hill. Oh, no...he seems real hurt... Heh. I pick his little heap of a body up and lift him over my head in a military press...and I charge towards the cell sending his already beaten face into the wire mesh of the cell. Then, I do it again!...and AGAIN. and AGAIN busting open the cell door and throwing Villam to the out near the announce tables. Villam is out...the ref counts from the outside... 1... 2.. 3... 4... 5... 6... Come on...stay down...you fucking wan- 7~! and he's up... Ok. That's it. Tired of this shit already...let's go back in and see what's under the ring... feels like...steel chair... feels like...steel chair... feels like...trash can.... feels like...trash can lid... feels like...lead pipe... feels like...table... feels like...baseball bat... UGH fuck. I'll just pull everything out. The crowd gets really loud when I pull out the last and favorite item... the table. Villam gets to his feet trying to shake the star out of his head...so I arm myself with the trash can lid and walk out of the cell to sneak up behind him...he looks left...looks right...turns around....and...WHAM! gotcha~! The crowd loved that. That's right, laugh at this fuckhead. "Get up!" I scream before twatting him with another trashcan lid shot to the back of the skull. In a failed attempt to run away Villam stumbled back into the cell and into the other set of stairs and started to get back into the Asylum...but as he slowly tried to climb in...I twatted him again in the back with the trash can lid and send him crashing to the floor on the other side of the stairs....the severely dented trash can lid was now pretty fucking useless so I walked back over to the door and I threw it into the crowd Borst-style. Great reaction on that. Speaking of Borst...Villam is fighting just like him. Shitty. Battle Side || Villam This is not happening. This is not happening. This is not happening. This is not happening. FUCK. Yes, it is. Gotta think of something....wait...what the fuck is HE doing? Let's see... ....Climbing? Well, I'm be damned...look at that fucker go. And right on cue...the fucking blood marks cheer for the most "HaRdCoRe" puss in the match. Great, he's at the top...yelling something... "What?" I scream. "Come on, Villam. Get your chicken shit ass up here." He screams back. "Fuck you, man......FUCK YOU." I said as a picked up a steelchair...walked out of the cell and around to the front where Hypnosis made his climb...I look up at him...smiling...then I step right through the cell door... ...climb back into the Asylum... and sit the fuck down. Lot's booing then. Heh, yeah. Take that ya' fuckwits. You want a show...go to the WWF or 21W. This is fucking fighting. Yeah, yeah...keep booing fuckheads...I don't care. "I got all night" I tell him. He responds with "Coward" or "Fucker" something along those lines...don't really care...wasn't paying attention and I really can't hear over all of this...fucking....yelling...gah... "SHUT THE FUCK UP!!" BOOOOOOOOOOOooooooo "Boo yerselves." Now, where the fuck? Oh...climbing down, eh? I got the cure for that...one round for smashed fingers coming up. I think he was half way down, as I quick as cat climb up the side wall of the cell's interior. Hypnosis didn't like this one bit and he looked down...frozen in what I was doing...."What the fuck" he says as we stare face to face... He was going say something about me being a pussy... but there's really only room for yelling when someone is biting the shit out of your fingers. That's right fucker...let go...I'm just gonna keep BITING. COME ON...I bit down on his middle finger hard enough to crack an almond. He grimaced and I spit in his face...again...then I set to work on the other hand. gnawing away at his fingers...it was only a matter of time...so I just punched the wire mesh into his face and sent him flying and falling over the barrier and into the crowd. Pure fucking Magic. I climb down as the crowd just blows the roof off the place with booing. Fucking idiots...why all the big brass booing now? Because he fell? Well if he didn't want to fall I suppose the fucktard shouldn't have climbed his stupid ass up there in the first fucking place. I express this by sticking my tongue out at the crowd. Then, they pull the old "Boo and Throw Garbage" routine and....a paper cup...*GASP* actually touches me... .... .... .... Alright you plebian fuckheads you're gonna get something to really boo about.... I walk over to the announce table and Mike Malone's all..."Blah Blah - Evil - Blah Blah" and the French guy is all "Let's get out of here - ribbit" or something...and I reach under the table...and pull out.... ALMIGHTY~! RU-fucking-AHH~! BOOOOoooo/you fucker/you cheater you fucking suck/fuck you/Booooooo Blah. Blah. Too late for all that shit now. I've got Almighty and I don't fucking hear you. I walk over the side where I look over the barrier and Hypnosis is on his back breathing hard. "What the fuck?" I say..."Aren't you his friend? Why didn't you catch your hero? Fucking....infidels." Then *It* happens. Someone hits me the back of the head with a fucking bottle of beer. A....bottle...of....fucking....beer.... I HATE BEER~! I didn't really think when I turned around and jabbed whoever it was in the stomach with Almighty...she doubled over... wait....she? Meh. I punched her in the fucking the face. Yeah, she's a girl...but I don't give a fuck. It was Beer....FUCKING BEER. So, I hit here again....and her boyfriend tried to get involved so I put him on his ass too. Then the crowd...gah....it got out of control...then someone tapped me on the fucking shoulder from behind...I turned around..... WHAM!! Battle Side || Hypnosis Fucker. Fightin' the fucking crowd? This is between...YOU (SMACK!)...and....ugh....I (CRACK!) I cracked him a few more times across the head with the stealchair causing him to drop Almighty. Villam turned around and held up a hand for me to stop...HAH...yeah right. I hit him again and again...all to the cheering of the crowd. I was tired and hurt and TIRED...of this bullocks concerning Villam....and I know just how to end it. I hopped over the barrier and opened up the chair...then I hopped back over the barrier lifting Villam up into a Powerbomb position... I raised one fist in the air and the crowd cheered. Then I powerbombed twathead Villam into the chair. The ref counted... 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... He squirmed a bit and got up. Alright, Villam...You're just making this harder on yourself. I picked up the steel chair and hit him with again smashing his face into the floor. Then... I eyed the table. Then I looked up at the top of the Cell. Then I looked at the center of the Asylum. but...how would I get him to the top....? Then I looked at Almighty. Heh. I quickly entered the cell and grabbed the table and set up in the center of the Asylum just below the roof. Then I stalked about as the crowd cheered me on. I looked down and Villam and nailed him one more time with the steelchair. Then...I picked up Almighty and climbed to the top of cell. Fuck...the hammer was heavy...strong thing though...felt like it was almost carrying me up there....I stood up and raised Almighty to the air to the roar of the crowd and the snapping of camera's. Then I carefully walked over to the roof... standing over the table that was about 19 feet below. And I got to bloody work. I hammered and hammered and hammered until I burst a hole in the top of Asylum....It was just right. Just big enough for a body to be forced through.... You're dead Villam. Battle Side || Villam As soon as I woke up. I knew. I fucking knew. I got up rubbing my head...still being pelted with crap....then I looked up...and the crowd fucking laughed. Plebeians. That fucker had Almighty. FUCK. FUCK. SHIT. HELL. DAMN. ASS. FUCK. DAMN IT. I started to climb...I needed her. He should NOT be fucking touching her!!! The air swirled around me as I climbed to the wobbly roof of the Cell and stared down Hypnosis. "Give it back. It's MINE. MINE." I screamed. "Come and get it." He said. So fuck it...I did what he didn't think I'd do.... I charged him. He raised Almighty in order to strike me down but did so way too fucking late as I tackled him into the wire meshed roof and put my hand around the hilt of Almighty. We struggled like hell and that fucker wouldn't give it back...so... I did what came natural. I bit those swollen fingers again. He let go of her then. You're dead, Hypnosis. I tore Almighty away from him and got to my feet. He got to his...but again....a second too fucking late because I charged into him and rammed Almighty into his forehead nearly knocking both of us over the edge. Massive hatred swirling around me. I could reach up and touch the rafters. I was so high to the sensation of giving pain. I was so drunk on power. I must've laughed out loud...the crowd got immensely louder and I just laughed. On the top...the garbage couldn't reach me. Hypnosis had trouble getting up so I picked him up and...yes....YES. You fucking idiot. Thanks for creating your own fucking deathtrap. I dragged his near unconscious body over to the little makeshift portal he made. and lay him over it. Stupid fucking wrestler....probably was gonna try and forcibly powerbomb through and force me down through that fucking table.... Fucker. I stood over him and turned Almighty upside-down. And used it to stuff HIS stupid ass through that whole. JAB JAB JAB I kept drilling and drilling bringing Almighty down on him like a jackhammer. The crowd hated me for this... and for once... I loved the hatred. Raised Almighty high and brought it down one final time sending Hypnosis through the whole and through the table. The ref counted. 1. BOOOOOOOOooooooooooooo I let out a breath and sat down. I won. The loyalist - 1. Usurpers - Nothing. Winner and NEW T.V.&U.K. Champion: Villam Ender via Knockout
First to make his entrance... it's Borst. "Fuckin' in the Bushes" by Oasis plays, as the three time Asylum Champion makes his way down the aisle to a huge chorus of boos. His wife, Zoe Borst is by his side, and she takes her place at ringside while Borst enters the Asylum. As soon as he climbs into the ring he raises his right arm, but isn't greeted by anything resembling a positive reaction. Just more boos. Borst doesn't seem bothered though. He just shrugs his shoulders and looks over to Zoe at ringside, giving her a quick wink before "Voices" by Disturbed plays. The Asylum owner, Joe
Campbell steps out from behind the curtain and makes his way towards
the ring. He looks slightly uneasy, most definitely not happy that
he's been roped into the match. He seems nervous to get in the ring
with Borst, so instead he opts to wait at ringside until his
"poster boy" A.D. makes his way to the ring. Winner and NEW Asylum Champion: Borst via Knockout
Credits |
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Copyright
© the Asylum |
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