Everything or Nothing.
Long Island Civic Center, NY.
July 28th 2002.

“We swallow the spit
Steal acceptance lend denial
Telling me that my life is free and boundless
Then I'm forced to stay between the lines
They construct death to demolish life
Plant the seeds to harvest loss
Found empty truth is full of lies

We're hoping for despair
Starvation's gluttony
Subtle chaotic peace 
War divided unity
Pro life, pro choice
Blinded insight
Left wing, right wing 
Black, white
Leaders following

I am everything I am nothing

Stop fuckin' with me
I'm the accused I'm not the enemy 
You're so confused no way you could enlighten me,
No freedom trapped in slavery
Deceitful honesty mother fuckin' human not a machine 

Lay your hands upon me
In search for answers inviting
Constant struggle inside me
Guide me through this nothing that's everything

I am everything I am nothing.”  
“Everything and Nothing” by Mudvayne

Dirty Deal.

“So here we are.” 

The cold and emotionless voice of Joe Campbell broke a silent room within the deep dark recesses of the Long Island Civic center in New York. 

Somewhere deep within the building, a horrible flower was coming into blossom… and unfortunately, once fully bloomed… nobody would be able to stop it. 

“I never thought you and I would be able to sit in the same room like this, and I’ve got to admit… I don’t feel the least bit comfortable in divulging this information to you.” Joe went on, leaning back in his chair. 

“Easy big man.” An equally cold voice sneered back. 

“Whatever happened between us is in the past, I’ve come to learn that sometimes you need to give a little to get a little in return, you and I… we aren’t that different at all.” The voice went on, Joe stirring uncomfortably in his seat. 

“Well, maybe I see that now…” Joe began “You seem to have seen the error of your ways, had I no malevolent memories of one or two confrontations between you and I… I might even be able to view you as a business man right up on the same level as I… you do without question, strike a good deal.” Joe said with a sly grin. 

“And you Joe, drive a hard bargain.” The voice replied. 

“So, do you have what I need?” Joe questioned. 

“Its all right here…” The voice replied, sliding a briefcase across the desk. 

“Thirty thousand dollars… it takes a mean feat for even I to be surprised, I’ll give you that… but out of curiosity, Mr. Williams… just how did you acquire this money?” Joe said curiously. 

“Now Campbell… a good business man never discusses the tricks of his trade, I can assure you though… even a man such as myself, has his ways and means.” 

The shot panned up, to reveal a head of golden blonde hair with streaks of blue. 

Token Weed. 

“Oh I bet you do Token, I bet you do.” Joe said with a sinister grin, sliding a document across the desk into Token’s hand… Token picked it up and smirked. 

“A pleasure doing business with you.” Token said as he left the room, giving a quick flash of the black embossed lettering on the document. 

I N M A T E. 

“Likewise.” Joe said, a smirk on his face that could tell a thousand tales. 

As Token Weed exited Joe Campbell’s office, he examined the briefcase… which somewhat oddly, had a large red stain accompanied by a dangling length of chain upon its side. 

Somewhere in downtown New York, a bank security guard lay dead… face down in his own blood with a bullet in the back of his head. 

Blood. Crimson. Flowing.

Elbow.  

Jab.  

Headbutt.  

And so on.  

Gwen stood in the locker room, using a locker to warm up for her match. Her knuckles had already started to flow with energy, a red energy. Crimson. Delightful crimson river forming in the crevices which lay between her knuckles. A moat of blood.  

Her head was already split open.  

People would think Gwen had gone over the edge, they would think she’d lost her head perhaps. She’s still perfectly sane...just not waiting for the match to begin to let her blood flow.

As far as she was concerned, she was already one step ahead of Dawn Van Dammage.  

Ending the PHUN!

“Bootylicious” by Destinys Child plays loudly as red carpet is finishing being unrolled by the stagehands. Booty Brown walks out from behind the curtain in new clothing attire, no longer clad in 70’s style clothing… bell-bottoms, ruffle shirts, crazy looking shoes. It is all gone; finally, he has out grown the clothing people made fun of him for. Dressed in a lime green suit & black snake skin loafers Booty Brown makes his way to the fighting area right down the red carpet.  

He grabs a few of the ladies hands on the way down to the fighting area. As he gets in, he pulled out a microphone from the inside of his suit. He looks around the arena for a brief second as his music dies out; it gets extremely quite fast.  

“After 33 years in the wrestling ring, I’ve finally realized that I’m past my prime. Last week against Providence, the “extreme” champion, I was beaten and battered… nearly dead. I realized that Booty Brown no longer has the mojo that he once had.” Some of the fans boo him he ignores them and continues. “I was once a great competitor in the square circle, I wrestled people like the Great Monsaka and “Legend” Alex Herr back in the 80’s. I no longer can keep up with the children of these days.”  

Some of the fans look around, wondering why he is out here. “Steroid taking son bitches done taken me out of my business. This was my business, but it no longer can be. I have better things to do… I have watched and looked around and a I see future “legends” needing guidance towards that light. I feel by the grace of the lord himself it IS MY duty to put them down the right path to the “legendary” status one seeks.”  

“I know, I know… yall miss me. Do not worry baby, Booty aint gone for good. Tonight, I have a surprise for all my adoring fans, I know you cannot live without me… after all I am the ratings. Tonight, I officially announce my retirement from the squared circle.” The fans erupt into cheers, glad that he will not be around so much anymore. Booty Brown takes it as they are sad for him though.  

“Don’t cry… don’t cry. I can still rock the cradle; do the dipody-do-da if you know what I mean. You haven’t seen the last of Booty Brown… trust me on that.” The fans quite down again as Booty Brown looks up into the arena rafters.  

He whispers into the microphone, not realizing everyone can hear him, “Shut up cusimario!” He pauses, “I’m trying not to lust my smilez…” The fans look at him, then up in the rafters. He shakes his head as if nothing happened.  

“Anyway, as I was…” He was interrupted by a loud thunderous voice echoing throughout the arena, “YOU R IN AH SLUMPPPPP BOOT-AY. LOLLZZZZZZ………. I HAVE CAPTURD UR SMILEZ FOR ATERNITY!!!” Booty Brown screams into his microphone, “NOOOOOO!”  

The fans look at him like he’s nuts, “You can’t take my smilez… baby I as all in it for the PHUN!” Booty Brown looks around as the fans just watch him in astonishment, a few security guards come down to the fighting area and grab Booty Brown, he drops the microphone as they force him out of the fighting area.  

Quinn Morgan Vs Hate
Blindfold Match

The crowd groaned in despair as "Underdose" by InMe started to play. This of course meant the arrival of the neighborhood crazy bitch and every single face in the crowd loathed this. A large group of them started to wish they hadn't heard her song and that they didn't have to see her here tonight, when they are supposed to be enjoying themselves at the pay per view… But this was diaphanous hope.  

There she stood looking as pale as a ghost with her dark rouge lips and noir-tinted fingernails.  

In her hands was a black piece of cloth. It was her blindfold.  

She walked down and into the Asylum. Hate got just that from the fans. Must not be goth fans.  

Rolodex Propaganda by At The Drive In. Boos turn to cheers. And you fans gave a mild (BUT GOOD) pop for the pretty yet raw Quinn Abbigal Morgan. She is your face. A blind fold in her hand, she walked to the mesh. In her usual attire, she barely gave the crowd a second thought.  

She had business.  

And before she knew it, she was standing within the confines of Hell itself. The Asylum “Pit”, as she called it. Morgan looked into the pale, dead face of former friend and “war” buddy Kate Novak. No. That wasn’t Novak.  

It was Malignant Melanoma.  

It was Hate.  

Hate wrapped the black cloth of her blindfold around her eyes. Morgan wanted to strike right then and there. However, this was her foot in the door.  

Don’t do Joe Campbell wrong, or .desolate was just the tip of the iceberg she would have thrown at her. Before going into a world of blackness, she saw the rabid fans of the Asylum cheering. They were like pit fighter fans. Crazy bastards.  

Morgan tied the blindfold on. The bell rang. However, Hate took off immediately, and went directly at Morgan, who was trying to adjust. The fans dulled Morgan’s senses.  

Now, I could say Hate was cheating since she is blind anyway. But whatever. So, yeah. A forearm to the face sent a message to Morgan rather quickly.  

You’re in for a long night.  

Morgan hit the Asylum floor. She would have let her mind win. She would have laid down. However, something wouldn’t let her be a reject anymore. She flipped up, and swung her left leg as hard as she could. Morgan felt her shoe connect with the jaw of Hate, from the slight stoppage of motion and the gurgle and grunt.  

Hate tumbled to the Asylum floor. She spit out crimson. Grabbing her jaw, she just was shocked. Morgan went to the Asylum floor, and crawled to Hate.  

He locked her two hands around Hate’s neck and began choking. After five seconds, she began to repeatedly slam Hate’s head to the ground, causing dark crimson to come out of the back of Hate’s skull. She slowly was changing blue, and the blue loss was causing her to lose her grip on reality.  

Morgan pinned Hate’s head down and began punching with her right fist. She kept punching. And punching. AND PUNCH~! This lasted an entire two minutes, turning Hate’s left temple to a cut up and tattered mess. Morgan stood up.  

Morgan rose her hands in victory.  

And Hate was out. She had just crushed Hate.  

1  

2  

3  

4  

5  

6  

7  

8  

9  

10~!  

10…  

10?  

Hell fucking no. Hate was not about to die. Not to this weakling. She used her left leg and kicked Morgan from behind. A great shot at a pair of exposed ribs. Morgan couldn’t be more shocked.  

She went to one knee, as Hate grabbed her in a rear chin lock, and started slowly choking the life out of Quinn. Hate began using her open left arm to punch Morgan. And the blindfolded gal’s super powers were sapped.  

Morgan was now on the other end of a serial ass kicking.  

Hate took Morgan down; choking and punching until blood and blue, dying flesh were seen before all. And right before slipping into the dream world, Hate let go, allowing the lungs of Quinn to gasp for air. It burned so much.  

She hated being choked.  

Hate used this moment to reach to the outside of the mesh. Perfectly placed was a black steel chair. Wow, wrestling was present at an Asylum event. Nobody gave a fuck if it was stolen from wrestling though. Morgan was going to be smashed by that twit with the chair.  

As Morgan stood up, hunched over, she was greeted by one of the great products in the American steel industry. And she just blacked out.  

1  

2  

3  

4  

5  

6  

7  

8  

The counting stopped, and Morgan was now to her feet, wobbly as all hell.  

Didn’t fucking matter.  

BAM~! 

Again, bloody Quinn Morgan stained the Asylum floor again. Bad Quinn. No lollipop for you.  

Not like she was able to react.  

1 

2  

3  

4  

5  

6  

7  

Morgan was up again.  

CRUNCH~!  

DIE YOU FUCKING SLUT 

Hate, now extremely agitated by the fight put up to stop the knockout, again used the chair, and yet again the now bloody and blindfolded Morgan hit the floor.  

1  

2  

3  

4  

5  

Morgan slipped the blindfold off.  

Advantage: Morgan  

6  

7  

She was on one knee  

8  

9  

And there we go. Morgan stood up. Another wild swing came at Quinn, but that she ducked it.  

The chair now in a close proximity to her skull, Quinn roundhouse kicked that son of a bitch into the skull of Hate. And it flung out of her hands.  

Morgan mounted the now began punching.  

This lasted about two minutes.  

REDUDANT~!  

Hate lay out in a pool of her own blood, happily sleeping from blood loss.  

1  

2  

3  

4  

5  

6  

Sleeping Beauty awoke and was pissed.  

So pissed that she charged Quinn Morgan and began hitting her with jabs, punches, and all that stuff. It worked fine until Morgan sunk her teeth into the cheek of Hate, causing a primal scream and more blood to flow from one of the two combatants.  

An elbow to the exposed rib cage of Quinn Morgan put an end to the biting. And allowed them both to fall back on the floor.  

They were both exhausted, having this fight degenerate into its current blood lust self.  

As is custom, the count began.  

1  

2  

3  

4  

Hate began to stir.  

5  

Morgan was on her knees.  

6  

7  

Hate was on her knees.  

8  

9  

They both stood up. However, Hate was the worse of the two. The blood loss was getting to her. Morgan sensed an ending.  

She charged at Hate and was ready to gore her.  

And she did just that. Into the Asylum mesh. It caused Hate to whimper, but the pain wasn’t important.  

You see, Morgan was lifted up for a suplex, and was dropped outside of the ring. Her “finishing touch” failed.

And Hate was successful.  

Winner: Hate via Ringout

Meetings the Rents.

"I'm so glad you guys could make it here tonight!” Avo said with a smile on his face. 

"Aren't you happy Kusi The Rambling Mario?"  Avo looked around for his friend, but he was nowhere to be found.  

"Hmph interesting"  

"Yo son I don't see who you be talking to. There aint anybody else around here expect for yo mama and myself" Avo's dad explained to Avo.  

"Dad you don't see Kusi The Rambling Mario?"  

"Who in da hell is Quzy A Rambling Rio?"  

Avo's mouth dropped as he couldn't believe his dads mouth.  

"DAD! Its KUSI THE rambling MARIO!"  

"Yeah whatever son. I fo sho ain't seeing this Rambling Mario character." Avo and his mom and dad walked past an Asylum fighter who will be unknown just for legal reasons as he was smoking a bong and was wearing various items of clothing with drugs tattooed all over it.  

"Son I don't think I like you working here. This is an unsafe environment for my little pumpkin" Said Avo's mother with a concerned look on her face. Avo's dad quickly replied.  

"Oh don't be such a girl baby" Just then another Asylum fighter walked by but this time it was a friend of Avo's, but again will be kept unknown for he doesn't want to be known as a friend of Avo's.  

"Oh hey, I want you to meet my parents. This is my mother Linda and my father Andre. Mom, dad, this is...." 

"Uh hi nice to meet you two." He then bent over to Avo and whispered in his ear. 

"Whys your mom white and your dad black?"  

Avo Chavez Vs Eddie Scott Poser

Everything or Nothing has been a crazy night so far, and it was just about to pick up another notch. There was not only one Chavez in the house but 3 in the arena tonight. And the whole world was still wondering why Avo's dad was black, and Avo's mom was white and Avo was Mexican??? Rumours were also flying that Eddie Scott Poser would be fighting in his first match EVER in the asylum, even though not under Joe Campbell's contract Poser would still fight. Hell this is the asylum <I>anything can happen</I> in the Asylum. With that said Avo's theme music was heard through out the arena for the first time in the Asylum. Cake's "Short Skirt Long Jacket" played while Avo pranced his way down the ramp attempting to slap some fans hands but no one was really interested in seeing Avo. Just as Avo was entering the asylum cage a white lady ran out from the crowd somehow breaking through security.........shows how good Asylum security is. The lady stormed into the cage and tackled Avo to the ground, the lady had to be well over 6'0" at least 6'8". All of the sudden Avo let out a loud bellow.  

"Argh MOM! Leave me alone you are embarrassing me."  

"I am not going to let my son step foot into this.....this....this unholy like object with another man and engage in such activities as fighting!"  

"But mom!"  

"No buts here Mr. We are going home!"  

"Back to Mexico City?"  

Avo questioned her.  

"We never lived in Mexico City, let alone Mexico. Now that I think about it we never left Mobile, Alabama"  

The fans mouth dropped as everyone thought that Avo came from Mexico. Just then when things couldn't have gotten worse for Avo a short little black man appeared from the back he had to be around 2 foot 8. He ran down the ramp as the black man had a huge afro. The fans went crazy as the small black character ran down the ramp. Avo spotted the black man and yelled at him.  

"Dad! Save me! Please"  

Avo's mom turned and yelled . 

"Andre go back to the car"  

"NO!"  

Avo's mouth dropped as did his moms. 

"What did you say?"  

Linda (Avo's mom) let Avo go as he slammed his head on the mat as Avo screamed. Avo wasn't use to this kind of action.  

"Women I said no"  

"Andre do you know who I am?"  

"Oh fo sho I know who you be! You be my bit......"  

"Oh my god you did not just try and cuss in the lords house!"  

Avo's mom started to cry in the middle of the cage as Avo was holding his head in pain. 

"You always be trippin out, you need to chill out yo, BOO-YAH!  

Just then Eddie Scott Poser's theme music struck the arena, or as Avo's mom likes to call it "The lords house." Eddie walked out on the ramp and was amazed as the fans were staring at him. Avo's parents were yelling at each other back and forth and Avo was in the ring crying.  

Eddie decided to take his sweet time making his way down the ramp. Poser was looking around amazed by the crowd when out of nowhere came the security of the Asylum and started to beat Poser with their night sticks. Each of them took turns beating Eddie with their night sticks, some of them started to kick Avo to the ground. Avo's mom spotted this beating.  

"Look Andre that could be our child!"  

Andre looked over to where Eddie was getting beaten up.  

"Holy hooligans! Baby that could happen to any of us at anytime don't worry about it, plus our son is strong. I taught him well!"  

The camera switched to where Avo was curled up in a ball moaning and holding his head.  

"Aw fuck this"  

Winner: No Contest

Lights... Camera... And Action!?

"Too fat, fat, you must cut clean, you gotta take the elevator to the mezzanine, chump, change, and it's on, super bon bon..." 

"Super Bon Bon" by Soul Coughing.  

Out came...  

Oh fuck.  

No.  

No no no no no no no no no no no...  

Beef in a Reed Young wig.  

"RATINGS, BABY, RATINGS!" Beef shouted happilly as he walked into the Asylum cage. He entered the Asylum cage and looked toward the crowd.  

"Hello.... Bangkok!"  

The fans booed, as Beef just kind of chuckled to himself. "Heeheehee... Bangkok. What a funny name for a city!"  

"Welcome to the... seventh PPV of the year for Asylum! I just bought this company from Joe, isn't that sweet?" Beef said. He was, of course, lying. "Imagine the things one can do with a lottery ticket."  

Who did this guy think he was... Jim Johnson?  

"Now, under the Beef Young administration of the Asylum, we're going to have things that other fighting promotions don't have."  

"Good shows!"  

"KILLAH PAY-PER-VIEWS LIKE THIS ONE~!"  

"Your mom at my house for some loving!"  

Booing.  

"Oh, and... um. Fighters."  

And then, "Run Away" by Real McCoy hit, bringing about the one person that could probably bring about Beef Young's attention to the point of ejaculatory ecstasy. That man. Is.  

MLB.  

"Hi!" MLB said, as he entered the cage.  

"ML! ML! ML!" Beef chanted.  

"OBJECTION!" MLB said. This was quickly followed up with the fans(and Young) yelling "ERECTION!" in retortment.  

MLB looked at Young questioningly.  

"Since when did you become Christopher Fox?"  

"It's for the RATINGS, baby! The RATINGS!" Beef responded.  

"Geez. This is as bad as the average LLB segment. Why did we go and do this, anyway?" MLB asked, throwing down his baseball cap. "I mean, this is like the third time I've been MLB in the last year."  

"But, the fans love MLB. They chant 'MLB! MLB!' whenever you come out as him!" Beef said, to the sounds of silence.  

"They do?"  

"No, not really."  

"Oh."  

Just then, Steve the Rambling Communist entered the ring with a Pikachu doll.  

"PIKA." he said.  

"No, no no no. The parody's a bust. We can't parody Reed Young because he's not cool enough. Or something."  

There would have been comments about the times that Mega Job parodied jOlt, Onslaught, Epic, and what have you, but something hit that got Mega Job's undivided attention. Well, except for Steve, he was thinking about throwing the Pikachu doll as hard as he can out of the cage, but nevermind that.  

Dear Lord! Stop the freakin' presses!

The crowd stood in shock, some probably even soiled themselves. For all they knew the Asylum as they knew it was crashing down. Armageddon was upon them. Never in their lives would they expect this. Joe may have been a drinker, but no amount of alcohol could ever lead someone to make a blatantly bad decision of this magnitude. This was like the when the Red Sox sold off Babe Ruth, it was just that stupid.

So there they stood, in all their glory. cHEESE and egg NOG:

the Legion of Dairy.

The fans didn't know whether to cheer, cry or head for the doors; they were just dumbfounded. NOG and cHEESE posed for the fans, hoping to spark some sort of reaction. Nothing. The LoD were becoming nervous, Joe wasn't going to like this, not at all. They could see the money flying away as they stood there, wondering if the crowd was dead or alive. Finally, egg NOG spoke.

"Uh, hello?"

The crowd roared. cHEESE and egg NOG were taken aback with surprise, quickly regaining their composure they looked to the two men they had just interrupted.

Beef the Slightly Annoyed and El Janito the Mexican Sterotype: Mega Job: The Epic Tag Team.

They stood in the Asylum, confused by the two men standing under the Asylum's screen of viewing goodness. Their jaws dropped and their eye widened, they didn't know what to say. It was just... odd. Not since well... Mega Job, had someone with such ridiculous names dared to step foot on Asylum programming.

Maybe Joe didn't know. Yeah, maybe they somehow managed to slip by security and this was a one time thing... yeah, that was it. This was a passing phase.

egg NOG looked over the stoic crowd as he raised the microphone to his lips "Ladies and gentlemen, what you see in the ring...err, cage before you is an example of a gross injustice. Those two are lucky that we don't march backstage and demand that LLB represent us in his 'court of law'... which we have reason to believe might be some backroad 'bar', but the 'jury' is still out on that one."

NOG laughed a loud laugh as no one really got his joke, except maybe cHEESE who punched him in the arm and pointed to Mega Job.

"Right, so... what was I saying again?"

cHEESE sighed as he snatched the microphone from egg NOG's hand. Pointing a very imposing point, cHEESE spoke.

"You made fun of us."

Silence, just dead silence. The crowd quieted and Beef and El Janito's expression still hadn't changed from when the two first walked out. Drool began to slowly slide down Beef's face as images of a nude Kate Novak probably ran rampant through his mind.

Personify: Fan, section 4 row 86 seat 14
Is this ever going anywhere? I really have to go to the bathroom, man! This is probably an intermission and no one bothered to tell me... the assholes!

Personify: egg NOG
Wow. There are a lot of fine ladies in the audience to-night... I wonder how many I can get to show me their
boobies?

Personify: El Janito
"London Bridge is falling down, falling down... London Bridge is falling down mmmyyyy faaaairrrr laaaaaa-dy."

cHEESE coughed.

"I said 'you made fun of us'."

Beef snapped from his spell, "Oh. We did? Say, Janito, when did we make fun of these guys? Because, I think we would've made fun of them a lot sooner if I had known that they had those haircuts."

egg NOG quickly produced a mirror from his pocket and examined his hair. "Hey, my hair isn't that bad."

cHEESE's eyebrow arched up, "Um, well I never said you could make fun of us...."

cHEESE glanced over at egg NOG, who had his tights pulled forward and looked to be inspecting his "boys".

cHEESE's head fell forward as he rubbed his forehead.

"Just forget I ever said anything. Let's just drop the whole skit-mocking thing."

Beef nodded a valiant hero's nod, as cHEESE raised his index finger in continuation.

"But then there's the copyright infringement."

At this point the crowd was itching for some violence, as they made their wishes vocal as chants of "fight!" sprung up. Beef and Janito looked lost once more as cHEESE continued his rant.

"Recently -just this past week, actually- a little ditty featuring a one Beef the Slightly Annoyed aired on Asylum Television -featured on The 'new' TNN, sucka- playing with his action figures. Hey, it was funny crap I must admit IF WASN'T FOR THE FACT YOU STOLE THE IDEA FROM US!"

Again, the chants of "fucking fight!" continued as cHEESE seemed hell bent on his reaming. But cHEESE ignored the fans cries and continued.

"You so broke the IWO code or interviewing and that is so not cool! We did the whole action figure thing first, now we want you to say you're sorry!"

Beef shook his head "no" as cHEESE became furious. "You will apologize! RIGHT NOW!"

Again, "no", and then Beef looked at him. "Dude, if you came up with the action figure thing, then we might as well be ignoring Action League Now! Remember that show?"

egg NOG snickered. "Oh, yes, I do. That female action figure was *so* hot."

Mega Job Vs The Legion of Dairy

The bell rang. 

Both members of Mega Job immediately began to pound away at the LoD's fists with their faces in an attempt to wear out their fists.  

That plan backfired pretty damned quickly.  

As their plan began to fail dismally, the LoD began to simply dismantle Mega Job with clubbing forearms and random kicks. The fans, oddly enough, were starting dueling "LoD!" and "Mega Job!" chants for the four idiots in the cage.  

Beef finally got smart and aimed his face at cHEESE's kneeca- whoops, that plan didn't work either. Huh.  

As Janito reeled from his own failure at trying to injure egg NOG's elbow by destroying it with his own skull, he stumbled back against the cage, and made the first actual good move of the match by avoiding a vicious running stomp into the cage wall. Janito rolled to his feet and whipped out a Jobberang in one fluid motion.  

"Hey, you bloody wanker!" he yelled, apparently becoming British, again, all of a sudden.  

"Dodge THIS!"  

He tossed it.  

It missed by approximately 1.32947129874 miles.  

We here in the Asylum believe in accuracy, after all.  

"Bugger!" Janito said, before having to dodge from another attack. And running right into the returning Jobberang.  

egg NOG just kind of looked at the Jobberang and picked it up. "Hey, you actually use these? Sheesh, no wonder you completely suck."  

Beef shoved cHEESE away and looked at egg NOG. "Hey, don't diss the equipment, biotch~!"  

egg NOG looked at Beef. "Oh yeah? Why don't you MAKE ME not diss your equipment, then!?" he said, smirking at Beef.  

Big mistake.  

KICK WHAM STUNNER.  

egg NOG fell to the mat, the victim of what is generally considered to be the worst Stunner in wrestling or fighting history. egg NOG went back to his feet quickly, but Beef was up.  

Via the Ricearooni.  

egg NOG looked at the Spinnarooni That Makes The Coach's Look Damned Good with a look of "WTFMF?!", but it was wiped off of his face with a Pork Rind Infinity, which sent egg NOG to the mat.  

As El Janito got back to his feet and dealt with cHEESE, Beef looked down at egg NOG and looked over toward the cage walls. He then ripped his kneepad off and tossed it into the crowd to a surprisingly decent pop, as the fans knew what Beef was looking for.  

He ran off of the cage. He did the four hops. He...  

KICK WHAM SHUT UP JUICE 

...got wasted by cHEESE.  

The "God of Wrestling(Fighting?)" took down Beef, and he and egg NOG got back in control of the match. That is, until Beef and Janito, in a rare moment of offensive intelligence, both landed syncronized kicks in the nads of both members of the Legion of Dairy. As both members of the LoD went down, Janito stumbled into the path of Beef, who shoved him.  

"JANIIITOOO~!"  

"Bloody hell, why did you have to go and sho-" Janito asked, before he was interrupted by Beef, he pointed in both directions.  

"GET THE OVERUSED, YET OBVIOUSLY DESTRUCTIVE WOODEN FURNITURE OF DEATH~!"  

"Erm, if we did that, wouldn't we, like, lose the match?" Janito asked. Beef slapped his head and called out to Steve to do the deed.  

Steve came back with a table, and got it up and over the Asylum cage somehow. Beef took it and set it up against the Asylum cage, then Steve tossed the Pikachu doll in as well. Beef shrugged and picked it up, looking to cause damage. He turned to egg NOG.  

Van Dairynator.  

egg NOG's foot just kind of bounced off of the Pikachu doll, and Beef just stood there, holding the Pikachu doll out in front of him like a coward. The doll said "PIKA PIKA!" and its red lights on its cheeks began to flash a bit. Frightened, Beef tossed it to Janito. Janito was startled, so he tossed it to cHEESE. cHEESE looked at the doll with a look of "WTFMF?!"  

"Pika...chu!?"  

He tossed it to egg NOG as he got up.  

"PIKA PIKA!"  

"Pika this, you stupid doll!" egg NOG yelled, tossing it back to Beef. It hit him in the face and knocked him right down. Janito got back up and went for the Latino Spice Driver on cHEESE for the first time in his illustrious Asylum history, and then he realized why he never used it, as cHEESE flipped him up and over in front of him. Before Janito could react, both members of the LoD had him.  

*CRASH!*  

The Sellout. 

Through the table.  

Janito was about as good as done, as the crowd was going batshit upon the impact of the Legion's double-team finishing maneuver. The mandatory ten count was being made.  

One. Two.  

Three. Four.  

Five. Six.  

Seven. Eight.  

Nine.  

Ten.  

LoD 1, Mega Job 0.  

The bell rang and the Legion were announced the winners. As the "LoD!" chants were heard throughout the building, they left the Asylum cage, victorious against Mega Job in their debut, all while "Sellout" played.  

Winner: Legion of Dairy via Knockout

 

Contessa Vs Lotus

I’m not myself…
Nor will I try to be again…
I’m just out here to prove that I am still a mere shadow of what I use to be…

“This is for me and I know everyone knows” by Blonde Redhead played as it signaled the start of Women’s Championship match. A hard fought tournament and many detours led to one final victor for a shot at the title and it was none other then the Bitch Slayer, Contessa. 

She stepped out of the back to the fan’s appreciation and she smiled to the reaction she received. It was pure respect for a woman who made it so far and they wanted a new champion…  

One deserving.  

“Triumph” played and the boos set in quickly. Lotus stepped out with a mindset to win, concentration was the key, a game plan had to be taken one step at a time. She climbed into the Asylum cage that excluded her from everyone and everything except one woman who stood opposite of her.  

Contessa had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

Lotus had everything to prove, and everything to lose.  

The bell sounded.  

Tempers to a minimal and mental preparation were key to the beginning, the first few swings that connected would be the person who had first control and would dictate the match. Both women dashed towards the center, Contessa throwing the first punch while grabbing Lotus’ neck with her free hand.  

Lotus blocked with her left hand and uppercutted Contessa in the jaw twice. Contessa grabs hold on Lotus’ shirt and pulled her down kneeing her in the gut only to have Lotus kick behind upwards catching Contessa in the jaw.  

As Contessa released, Lotus backed up. Both women paced left and right not releasing their eyes off each other. With a scream from Lotus she jumped in with a spinning heel kick that Contessa quickly dodged, as Lotus dropped to the ground on her feet Contessa rolled around her knocking an elbow to her temple and wrapping her around the waist lifting her back for a suplex.  

Lotus struggled to open her eyes, everything was spinning. She could feel the pain at the back of her head, and the roar of the fans’ acceptance.  

She opened her eyes and got on her knees.

OMG!

Lotus fell back as the roundhouse kick connected hard against her skull. Contessa pulled up Lotus and tossed her against the rail where she threw elbows and punches keeping Lotus dazed. She locked her up and lifted her high off up with a suplex-  

However Lotus started kicking and fell on her feet and as Contessa turned around Lotus kicked the side of Contessa’s knee making her collapse downwards and-

CRACK! 

With a rising knee Lotus caught Contessa in the nose and then Lotus finished her off by knocking her with a kick, which connected, flipping her sideways. With Contessa's stomach exposed Lotus smiled as she blatantly went for a kick to Contessa's stomach...Contessa crossed her forearms and blocked the kick. Contessa struggled to get to her feet but only caught more fists to the head...  

She stood dazed with her arms wobbly.  

"She is pregnant!" she thought as she dropped her stance. Lotus dropped back ready to kick Contessa in the head again however as the lightning quick kick shot up Contessa dropped down while kicking Lotus' leg, sweeping her underneath herself.  

Lotus fell on top of Contessa but she pushed her off. Contessa walks over to Lotus and pulls her hair up but Lotus kicks sideways and hits her in the side. Contessa stumbles back holding her stomach, feeling no pain but obviously worried about the damage to her baby. Lotus smiled wickedly at Contessa and winks...gritting her teeth Contessa charges into Lotus only for Lotus to counter her charge with a kick to Contessa face.  

Lotus swung her foot out for another roundhouse that Contessa blocked. Lotus, taking advantage of the lower defense...winds up and nails Contessa head in the chest with a punch to the sterum. Lotus rear back for the another punch, but swings too far and wide and Contessa easily ducks it rushing in and lodging a couple of knees into between Lotus's breast.  

Contessa fakes a left punch...Lotus goes to block...  

WHAM!  

Uppercut from Contessa. The Bitch Slayer now gaining momentum hotshots Lotus with jabs and body blows. Contessa give Lotus a kick in the stomach and follows up by busting Lotus face on her knee. The crowd goes wild as they anticipate the closing of the match. Contessa drops Lotus with a scissor kick and doesn't stop the music as she grabs Lotus's legs takes her down, flipping her over and locking her in the common Boston Crab.  

Lotus screamed in the pain but refused to tap out to a wrestling move. The agile Lotus twisted herself as much as possible grabbing at Contessa shirt...trying to rip it off. "What the fuck?" Contessa thought as she turned her head over her back and looked into Lotus's face. Lotus smiled, yet again. If Lotus removed that shirt and revealed that little bump in her stomach...The ref would stop the match and these people...would probably boo her for putting her baby at risk....  

Contessa had no choice to release Lotus....but the moment she did Lotus kicked Contessa in the back sending her stumbling forward. Lotus flip up on her toes and without giving Contessa a chance to turn around she leapt into the air and nailed her with a jump kick to the back of the head sending Contessa flying into wire mesh. No time wasted...Lotus charge into Contessa and drop kicked her in the back causing her chest and collarbone to ram into the rim of the Asylum.  

Lotus laughed and pressed her foot to the back of Contessa's head. Slapping it sparingly and pulling her hair.  

After a few quick kicks to the side of Contessa’s head she picked her up.

CRACK!  

CRACK!  

WHAM!

Two sidekicks and a spinning heel kick sends Contessa flying across the Asylum mat rotating clockwise, falling hard on her back.  

Lotus was crazed.  

As Contessa slowly got back up she knocked her back on her knees and she aimed her leg towards her stomach. Lotus swung-

MISS! 

Contessa rolled out of the way soon enough to protect her baby. Lotus clenched her fist tightly in anger. She picked up Contessa and threw three wing chun punches in her neck then clotheslined her on her back against the railing where she started kicking her.  

Lotus just kept stomping away at her lower back, her arms, the back of her neck. Contessa couldn't take much more of this. The axe kicks could paralyze her. The stomp would ruin her back for life. But, she had to protect her baby. Contessa would have to quit....  

I can't  

She repeated this to herself over and over, but really...they were just words...she needed actions....  

The next axe kick did not land.  

As quick as a cat and just as it looked like all was lost. Contessa grabbed Lotus's heel and stood up much to Lotus's surprise. Lotus tried to nail her with a kick from the other leg...  

Leg caught.  

Lotus's neck slammed down to the mat from Contessa's spine buster. Contessa went for the kill.  

Seconds before Lotus reared her fist back for a stomach shot. Contessa grabbed her neck with her right hand. Choking her...lifting her up....  

Contessa bicep buckled and tore, but she bit her lip through the pain lifting Lotus up...and amazingly chokeslamming her to the outside for the win....  

The bell rang, the crowd cheered and the ref entered the ring awarding her with the Woman's Championship.

 Contessa was in tears. But, she could exit the ring...not yet...he waved one of the officials for a microphone...  

Breathing heavily she attempted to speak....  

"Thank you. I can't express enough how much this means to me. But...  

But...I can't...  

I can't. I've been lying to a lot of people...for the last two months I've been pregnant. But, I had to do this...before I left. I'm leaving the Asylum. This isn't a place for me anymore. I can't be the Asylum Contessa while I'm raising my child. I don't want him to grow with a person that...would...."  

She looked at Lotus.  

"..."  

Contessa throws the title back to Lotus.  

"Good Match."  

Winner and NEW Women's Champion: Lotus via Forfeit

Miles Blunder Vs Desolate

He wasn't anyone anymore, he wasn't Azrael Ravenell… he wasn't Shadowfire, or Caleb… he was simple desolate, bleak and uninhabited… a void where a once great man had stood.

Since the transformation, he'd seemed to wander without a purpose… an empty shell with no motives other than to crush and cripple anything living that stepped in his path. And unfortunately… something living was about to step there, like it or not.

Miles Blunder.

Despite Desolate's illusion of motiveless gliding… it was still debatable as to whether or not he was without a mission, perhaps it was merely on a higher level, one which every man simply couldn't comprehend.

Fortunately for every man, violence was simple enough to understand… and as Desolate made his way down the aisle, they gasped in his presence… because he was quite possible about to end another career.

How ironic, that if anything… Miles Blunder's life from this point forth would be the epitome of what his opponent stood for… isolated, bleak… barren… he simply couldn't see anything positive from this stage forth, it would be nothing short of a miracle if Miles could survive his first night as an Asylum fighter.

As "Not a Hit" died down… Desolate clambered into the Asylum and awaited his foe… sure enough, "The Other Man" by Sloan kicked up, and it appeared as though Miles Blunder would make his debut in the Asylum…

Wouldn't he?

Several moments passed… moments that became minutes, the crowd stirred in their seats… awaiting the arrival of what was considered to be simple cannon fodder for Desolate… the theme died down, and then started again, before there was a sudden flurry of activity in the crowd.

Miles Blunder.

Bursting through a curtain in one of the stands.

The crowd were shocked, but not as shocked as he… evidently, he'd been given some incorrect directions to the entry way… as he circled around confused, he finally caught his bearings and focused on the Asylum, making his way slowly down the steps as the harrowing Desolate stood emotionless in the center.

Blunder finally plucked up the courage… letting out a battle cry he leapt over the guard rail; almost tripping… rushed up the steps; almost tripping again… and finally leapt over the Asylum rim.

Almost tripping.

BAM.

Tripped.

Though not of his own accord… Blunder tumbled face first to the canvas, Desolate had snared the running Blunder's legs with a drop toe hold… furious, Blunder popped straight back up… now flooded with adrenaline, he rushed at Desolate once again.

Only to have his own momentum used against him.

One fling later, Blunder was clinging onto the Asylum rim for dear life… Desolate didn't rush in and toss him out of the Asylum, he evidently wanted to show Blunder the real nature of the Asylum… and as Miles skinned the cat back to the inside, he found out just what the Asylum was all about.

SMASH!

Miles Blunder's face… straight into solid steel, suffice to say the blood started to flow immediately, the newcomer falling square onto his back in a near unconscious state, bleeding profusely from the mouth… he tried to roll over but fell victim to a ruthless Desolate attack, finding himself the victim of several hard kicks and punches.

Blunder tried to scramble up… and to the shock of the crowd, was quickly hooked into a reverse DDT position, it appeared as though the bout was going to end quick afterall… Desolate looking for a Graceless Descent.

Not, so, fast.

Amazed… the reaction of the crowd as - in mid air, Blunder managed to spin and turn the reverse DDT of Desolate into a front face DDT in his own favour, the "J-Cloth DDT" as he aptly named it, shocked… the crowd gave a small rise for Blunder, as Desolate staggered back somewhat shocked from such a heavy early blow… Blunder saw his chance, running in at full speed, this time however it would be Desolate taking advantage with a DDT, running backwards and driving Blunder's skull into the Asylum mesh, busting the top of his head wide open to accompany his already bleeding mouth.

BAM!

Desolate struck again, this time a simple kick to the guts… it was now without question, Blunder was on the boot end of a severe ass kicking, as Desolate sent several more stiff natured kicks into Blunders ribs, finally pushing his head up against the mesh and crushing it beneath his boot.

The crowd sighed with relief for a moment… as Desolate appeared to back away.

Only to use it as a run up, sending a devastating knee into the head of Miles Blunder.

Blunder slumped to the canvas as the referee administered a count.

1

2

3

4

5

6

And he was up.

It had to be handed to him, if Miles Blunder had anything… it was guts, he'd stepped into the structure in the first place after all… but no sooner had he gotten to his feet, than he was back down on his ass again, this time falling victim of a simple elbow strike to the face.

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

Again, Blunder was up… in somewhat jack in the box fashion… this time he took one last desperate swing at hope, glancing the top of Desolate's head and stumbling past him into SMACK a vicious right hand from Desolate on the turn, again… Blunder collapsed, but this time no count was made, for Desolate had stepped across Blunder's back and placed a straight forward arm bar upon him.

Straight forward… disregarding the fact that he was using his free hand to pummel Blunder in the temple. Blunder struggled, shifting from side to sidee trying to pry his arm away from Desolate, Blunder's attempts returned only more force applied. Desolate continued applying the pressure, as Miles began screaming in the refferee's face, his answer to a question.

"Do you submit?" the ref shouted at Miles, who looked up at him. This was his chance to get out of this hell with Desolate, this was his chance to get away from the fight, to sit in the back and lick his wounds. Miles looked around, all the people screaming for more bloodshead, screaming for more fight. Miles couldn't let them down, he just couldn't.

"No, no, no, no, I'm not giving up so get the hell away from me!" Miles shouted as the ref backed off, letting Miles slowly begin to drag himself and Desolate across the Asylum floor, towards the cage wall. He reached out, wrapping his hands around the cold mesh. He pulled his body closer and closer, until finaly he began to pull himself literally up the cage wall. Finaly Desolate dropped the hold on Miles' arm, letting Miles fall to his knees.

Desolate was quick to charge trying for a knee strike, Miles flipped Desolate over. Miles quickly spread Desolate's legs apart, dropping an elbow into Desolate's crotch. Miles quickly rolled to his feet, as he watched Desolate slowly pry himself up off the canvas, staying beant over holding his jewels. Miles took a step back, and ran forward sending a thunderous kick into Desolate's face, sending Desolate flying back into the Asylum wall. Miles ran forward, delivering a sharp diving drop kick to Desolate's face, Desolate slumped to the side against the wall of the Asylum. Miles turned around stunned he looked up at the crowd and grinned, he was so close to a win.

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

Miles turned and looked at the crowd, lifting his arms up into the air. The crowd's first reaction was to chear, but quickly that turned to a murmur of "oh shit," Miles looked around at the crowd wondering what was wrong, he continued looking until he bumped into some one in the Asylum cage... Desolate stood and looked at Miles and grinned, kicking him in the stomach.

Desolate ran over jumping onto the rim of the cage, then leaping off grabbing Miles' head and driving it to the canvas with the 'Graceless' Decent. Desolate stood over top of Miles as the ref counted the 10, Desolate smiled looking down at Miles, as "Not A Hit" by Margaret Heater began blaring as Desolate exited the Asylum and left through the curtain, leaving Miles to come to a minute or two later.

Winner: Desolate via Knockout

Through the Gorilla.

Gwen walked slowly, no fear in her step, no hurry either. People backstage stared at her. The blood was flowing freely now, and her hanging hands dripped a trail. 

Dawn’s music was playing loud, it was festering in Gwen’s eardrums.  

Gwen passed a staff member.  

 
DVD Vs Gwen O'Reily

Dawn and Nord stepped out from the back as “Bullets” by Creed played. The fans were giving off quite a loud decibel of cheers for her. Nord gave her a pat on the back before she set foot into the Asylum and awaited Gwen. 

Even before “Good Rats” hit the sound system, Gwen had stepped out of the Gorilla Position and onto the ramp. She stood at the apex of it for a few moments, eyeing her battlegrounds.  

The fans stared at her bloody face, and watched her dangling hands leak the red liquid. Still, they cheered. She made a beeline for Dawn, and the bell rang.  

The two women clashed in the center of the Asylum, trading brutal blows to the face. With every punch that Gwen threw, blood flew off her knuckles and painted itself onto Dawn’s face.  

With every blow that Dawn connected with, Gwen’s head would whip backwards, and blood would go airborn and stain the mat behind her.  

Dawn finally got the upper hand after blocking a swing from Gwen and coming back with a headbutt that landed square on Gwen’s chin. Dawn followed up by savagely driving her knee into Gwen’s stomach numerous times until Gwen fell to one knee. Dawn took one step back, spun while extending her leg, and felt her foot connect with Gwen’s cheekbone.  

Gwen fell to the mat, with hardly enough strength to keep herself from choking on the piece of her tongue she had bit off upon receiving the kick. She spit it out, and watched it bounce inches away from her. Before she knew it, Dawn had grabbed her left leg.  

Dawn dragged Gwen to the wall of the Asylum, and placed her foot in front of it. She ran to the other side of the ring and calculated the precise point she wanted to connect with. She ran back towards Gwen, slid with her foot extended, and intended to break Gwen’s ankle with a baseball slide.  

Unfortunate for Dawn, Gwen pulled her foot out of the way, and Dawn connected with the cage instead.  

The painful tingling that surged through her body caused Dawn to shriek in pain. Upon hearing the shriek, the fans shifted in their seats uncomfortably. They wouldn’t be surprised to read later that discs in Dawn’s back had been traumatized due to the force.  

Both women laid on the ground. Dawn was in pain, Gwen was trying to catch her breath.  

1  

2  

3  

4  

5  

Gwen slowly began to  

6  

7  

get to her  

8  

feet.  

She stood, a bit wobbily…but quickly gaining her composure.  

Gwen walked over to Dawn’s fallen body, and jumped in the air. She came down with no velocity to spare, and she landed knee-first into Dawn’s stomach.  

Dawn felt all the air go out of her, and she seriously wondered if it would ever return to her lungs. Finally it did. She saw Gwen coming down again for the same move, and Dawn mustered all of her strength and pulled her knees up.  

Now it was Gwen’s turn to be without oxygen. Gwen stumbled backwards, and by the time she had regained her breath, Dawn was standing.  

The two women took this moment to stare each other down. The crowd began to clap with a rhythm. This act seemingly got the adrenaline of both women going.  

They rushed towards each other. Gwen went for a clothesline, but Dawn dove low and managed to get behind Gwen. She pulled Gwen’s legs out from under her and applied an ankle-lock.  

Gwen screamed in agony.  

Dawn twisted the ankle and pushed forward.  

What did Gwen do? She screamed more.  

She was going to ta—  

No, she couldn’t tap out. That wasn’t how Gwen O’Reilly was.  

She was the Irish Enema. She was the Redheaded Rage.  

She was not going to tap out. Not now. Not Ever.  

Gwen began kicking Dawn with her free foot, this caused Dawn to reluctantly relinquish the hold and move in for another one.  

Dawn went for Gwen’s leg again, but Gwen pulled it back and used it to sweep Dawn’s legs out from under her.  

Gwen quickly gets to her feet and stomps on Dawn a bit, then she hovers over Dawn’s head. 

EMERALD SYNTHESIS!  

Gwen steps back, and listens to the count.  

1.  

2.  

3.  

4.  

5.  

Dawn begins to show movement. Gwen lifts her leg again.  

EMERALD SYNTHESIS!  

Once again, Gwen watches Dawn as the count is administered.  

1.  

2.  

3.  

4.  

Dawn was in another world, but she could see the door back to reality. In her mind, she was fighting hard to make it to that door.  

5.  

6.  

7.  

inches away.  

8.  

Dawn began to move again.  

Gwen screamed in frustration and lifted her foot once more, high above Dawn’s head. She brought it down with furious speed…  

But Dawn caught it. She shoved Gwen’s foot which sent Gwen to the ground.  

Dawn had her second wind, and there was going to be no stopping her.  

She grabbed Gwen by her nappy, bloody hair and pulled her to her feet. Keeping grasp, she began pummeling Gwen with her free hand.  

Punch after  

Punch after  

Punch.  

Relentless.  

Some might say heartless…but in this federation, there was one rule to surviving…and that was to win.  

Dawn gave Gwen one final blow and then moved behind her.  

Almost out of nowhere it happened…  

HEAVEN OPENER!  

That was it. Gwen was absolutely motionless.  

The official announced Dawn the winner by Knockout.  

Dawn stayed in the ring for a few minutes, catching her breath, and letting her wounds flow freely. Also, she was waiting for Gwen to rise out of her painful sleep.  

Finally, Gwen came to. She was relatively fine…in the same shape as Dawn almost. Gwen got to her feet, and at first she was angry. Then, she heard the admiration of the fans…the cheering.  

She looked at Dawn, smiled with good sportsmanship and mouthed the words:  

“Next Time”  

Gwen left. Soon after, Dawn left with Nord.  

Dawn-1  

Winner: DVD via Knockout

Answer?

The sounds of Maynard James Keenan and the rest of Tool fill the arena as "Forty-Six and Two" signal the entrance of the Extreme Champion Providence. With a microphone in hand, Providence slowly walks down towards the cage, glaring coldly at the nearby fans who are yelling insults and flashing hand gestures his way. Providence merely takes it all in and continues walking, not acknowledging any of the people around him.

 As he reaches the cage and climbs inside, Providence holds the Extreme Title high into the air and smirks, knowing that the fans were wishing someone else had that belt. After a few moments of basking in the boos, Providence slapped the title back over his shoulder and raised the microphone to his lips. 

"I came out here last week and said that I wanted an opponent for this pay-per-view tonight," he said with a bit of contempt in his voice. "Unfortunately...it appears that the rest of the members of the Asylum are a bunch of chickenshits, because no one has stepped forward to accept my challenge. Because of that, I am now forced to head to the back and find some opponents for tonight. Don't say you weren't warned."  

With a cold look on his face, Providence simply dropped the microphone to the floor and started to step forward to leave the cage. Just as he was about to step out, the buzzing noise was heard once again. The sound pierced through Providence's ears and those of the audience members. Fans reached up with their hands to cover their ears, but Providence stood strangely still as he looked towards the entranceway.

 Suddenly, the lights went out and the arena was dark. Officials and crew members scrambled to find out the problem. In the cage, Providence stood ready to anything.  

"haveiyournowextremeyouopponenthaveyourtitlehavepainyouan"  

The whisper began again, its softness contrasting with the painful buzzing noise. Providence remained in the dark, looking around to see if he could find out what was happening.  

"youextremehavepainyouopponenthaveiyournowantitleyourhave"  

The words were becoming clearer, and Providence was becoming more calm as he stood in the cage. The crowd remained confused, still holding their ears in pain from the buzzing.  

Finally, the buzzing ended.  

The lights came back on.  

And a figure dressed in black stood in the ring.  

Providence(c) Vs ???

Seeing the man standing before him, Providence waited for a moment and then lunged forward to attack. The man sidestepped Providence and took him down with a drop toehold, then leaped onto his back and started raining down punches to the back of his head. 

Providence's face slammed repeatedly against the floor, as the man seemed intent on knocking him out. As the punches continued, Providence managed to reach forward and grab the Extreme Title, then smacked the man in the side of the head with it. The man fell backwards off of Providence, allowing the Extreme Champion a moment to recover before going on the attack. Once on his feet, Providence charged forward and speared the man back against the side of the cage. He repeatedly drove himself forward, slamming his shoulder into the man's ribs and driving him back against the cage. After stopping for a moment, Providence lifted the man - who appeared to be smaller than Providence - up on his shoulders and then dropped him throat-first across the barricade. As the man lay across the barricade in pain, Providence grabbed a chair that was leaning against the cage and swung for the man's head.  

He missed.  

The sound of the chair smacking against the barricade rang through the arena, as the crowd gasped. Before Providence could take another swing, the man in black leaped into the air and knocked Providence back against the barricade with a back heel kick. After taking a step back, the man charged forward and dove forward with a clothesline, flying out of the cage and taking Providence over and out with him. The crowd started to cheer the man, partly for his fighting spirit and partly because of how much they hated Providence. As Providence slowly got back to his feet, the man grabbed a steel pipe from the pile of equipment next to the cage and struck Providence hard in the shoulder. Providence clutched the shoulder in pain, and the assault continued.  

WHACK!  

WHACK!  

WHACK!  

WHACK!  

WHACK!  

The sound of the pipe slamming against Providence was heard five more times, each time followed by a grunt of pain from Providence. The Extreme Champion's right arm was hanging almost limp to his side, and the man didn't appear to be letting up. After a final swing of the pipe to the ribs to double over Providence, the man took Providence down to the floor and hooked him into a crossface submission hold. The man pulled back hard on the move, shooting pain throughout Providence's body but especially in the already injured shoulder.  

The official kept asking Providence about whether he wanted to submit, but he kept saying "No." The crowd cheered, calling for the end of the match, but Providence would still not give up. Finally, just as it appeared he was about to black out from the pain, Providence's advantage in size and strength took over, as he used all of his remaining strength to power out of the move by pulling the man's arms loose. The man tried to lock the move back in, but Providence hit a back elbow to the chest that stopped the man long enough for Providence to steady himself and slam the man's head back against the cage. 

Providence then got up and pulled the man back next to him before slamming him back once more against the cage with a russian legsweep. Still feeling the pain in his right arm, Providence tried to shake it off as he reached for some cable wire that lay next to the cage. After climbing back into the cage, Providence leaned over the side and hooked the cable around the man's throat and then pulled back on it, literally trying to choke the life out of the man. The man in black struggled mightily, flailing about as he was basically being hung by the cable. The hooded mask combined with the cable wire to increase the loss of oxygen, and the man could feel his time running out. He kept reaching and grabbing, trying to find something but getting nothing.  

Then, finally, he once again found the pipe.  

The man felt his fingertips brush against the pipe and then inched his hand forward until he was able to pull it closer. After finally grabbing hold of the pipe, he swung it blindly upwards towards Providence. Fortunately for him, the pipe found the already injured shoulder of Providence and caused the Extreme Champion to release the wire involuntarily from the pain.  

Before Providence could attempt to regain the advantage, the man blasted him across the shoulder again with the pipe and looked around for something else to use. As Providence stumbled back in pain, the man grabbed a wrench from next to the cage and quickly climbed onto the cage wall. Just when Providence turned around to get back on the attack, the mystery man leaped from the barricade and caught him square in the face with the wrench.  

Providence fell to the mat immediately, lying there almost motionless. The official came in to check on him, but he was able to make some movements before the count was up. The man looked down at Providence, and you could almost see a slight smile forming under the mask, as if he were happy to see the match continue. Providence managed to groggily look up at the man while he smiled and his expression became one of rage. The man slowly backed up and just stood there waiting for Providence to pull himself back up.

 As Providence got to his feet, the man bent down and picked up two items: the steel pipe and the steel chair. In his right hand, he held the chair. In his left hand, he held the pipe. Slowly, he extended both arms and spoke softly so that Providence was probably the only person to hear him.  

"Choose."  

Providence chose the pipe.  

Again, the man smiled.  

Both fighters stood with their weapons in hand, slowly circling each other in attack position. Finally, Providence attacked first, swinging the pipe wildly in the man's direction. The mystery man ducked the swing and then hit Providence in the ribs with the edge of the chair.  

Providence swung wildly once more, grimacing at the pain in his shoulder. However, the man ducked the swing again and cracked the chair against Providence's knee this time.  

Providence screamed out in frustration, obviously upset at his misses. The man slowly stepped forward again, this time taking Providence offguard as it seemed he was about to swing for the third time. As the two men stood only one or two feet apart, the mystery man looked into Providence's eyes and simply tossed the chair to the side. He put his arms down to his sides and closed his eyes, almost daring Providence to take a swing. Some conscience seemed to click inside Providence, as he slowly knelt to set down the pipe.  

Then, the evil inside clicked in.  

Providence raised back up and wasted no time in swinging as hard as he could, cracking the pipe into the man's skull. The mystery man staggered to the side, clutching the side of his head in pain. Providence pounced on him, landing shot after shot to various points of the man's head and neck. After landing what seemed like dozens of shots, Providence dropped the pipe to the floor and looked down at the man, where a small pool of blood was forming at the side of his head. The official came in to check on him, but just as the man appeared to move his arm, Providence bent down and pulled him back up. Bringing the man closer to the center of the cage, Providence had a look in his eye that can only be described as "crazed."  

Providence set the ma up and then executed "The Schism," dropping the man down across the cage's barricade. Once more, the man lay unconscious on the floor, and this time Providence allowed the official to count.  

1...  

2...  

3...  

4...  

5...  

6...  

7...  

8...  

Before the official could reach nine, the mystery man lifted an arm up and pulled himself up with the aid of the cage. Blood dripped from the side of his head, and he steadied himself, looking over in Providence's direction. Providence breathed deeply and stared forward, narrowing his eyes at his opponent. The man simply looked into Providence's eyes, slowly staggering back over to where Providence stood. Not about to let up, Providence picked up the steel chair and bashed the man in the head with it, hitting him over and over until the man slumped back against the barricade.  

Providence angrily slammed the chair to the floor and then walked over to the man. Then, Providence pulled the man back over and set him up then slammed the mystery man down to the floor with "The Fall," landing hard on the steel chair with the move as well. The official came back in one more time and counted as the man lay on his back.  

1...  

2...  

3...  

4...  

5...  

6...  

7...  

8...  

9...  

Just as the official prepares to hit ten, the mystery man is able to prop himself up and makes eye contact with Providence again. As he does so, you can once again see the same smile spread across his face under the mask as he peers over at Providence. Finally, Providence just snaps.  

CRACK!  

CRACK!  

CRACK!  

CRACK!  

CRACK!  

The steel chair comes crashing down on the man's skull again and again and again. Anyone trying to count along would have probably been lost around #17. As Providence finally stopped and looked down at the virtually destroyed chair, the mystery man slumped back against the cage, his body still up but his consciousness having left a long time ago.  

Providence looked over at the man's face and realized he was out. The chair fell out of his hand, clanking down on the floor as Providence pushed the man face forward onto the floor of the cage. Still not through, Providence dropped down to the floor as well and locked on "The Cleansing." The mystery man was clearly out, but Providence wanted more. He pulled back hard on the full nelson submission, and the official finally saw that the mystery man was out and signalled that the fight was over. 

After keeping the hold on for a for almost a minute, Providence finally let go and grabbed the Extreme Title once more and held it close to his chest. As "Forty-Six and Two" played again, Providence stood in the center of the cage and held the title high, as a couple of officials helped the mystery man from the ring. Providence was basking in his victory, having once again successfully defended the Extreme Title not only for himself but for Joe as well.  

Winner and STILL Extreme Champion: Providence via Referee Decision

The Aftermath.

...Providence's music abruptly ended. The crowd began to murmur, perhaps wondering if the mysterious buzzing noise would be heard once again. Instead, they got something much, much different. 

FLASH.  

The blinding light spewed from the entranceway, and Providence raised the Extreme Title belt to his face to try and shield himself from The Light. As he did so, a familiar tune was heard.  

"Heresy" by Nine Inch Nails...the crowd exploded. The cheers became even louder after their hero's voice was heard.  

"The Third Coming....has resurrected.  

You motherfuckers are in for it now!"  

The eruption was deafening, as seemingly every single person in the arena rose to their feet and cheered loudly for the only man who could be behind such an entrance...  

Steve Christ.  

"The Third Coming" was not about to disappoint either, as he came barreling down to the ring at full speed. Providence remained shielding his eyes with the belt and was unaware of Christ's presence. Once inside the cage, Christ quickly grabbed the steel chair and lifted it up before blasting the belt and Providence's face at the same time. As Providence staggered back and dropped the belt, Christ continued assaulting him with the chair, nailing three shots in rapid-fire succession. With Providence dazed, Christ drops the chair and then nods his head with a wild look on his face. The time had come for...  

"The Christening."  

More than war?

“Smack My Bitch Up” by Prodigy. 

The crowd rose to their feet as Asylum owner, Joe Campbell… popped through the curtain with a microphone in his hand.  Joe stopped for a moment or two to bask in his newly found favouritie role, raising his arms in the air and beckoning on the cheers of the attending crowd. 

Smirking to himself, he paced down the aisle and clambered up into the Asylum… circling it once to take in more of the crowds expected but nonetheless surprising cheers. 

“Alright wankers, quiet down” Joe began, clearing his throat. 

“I suppose you might be wondering why I’m out here? Well to be honest… its perfectly simple, about an hour ago… I received a fax transmission from some pompous wanker called Mark Knight, suffice to say… I wasn’t pleased.” Joe continued, the crowd booing at the mention of Knight’s name. 

“So after much consideration… I decided not to wipe my arse on it, but instead give it a read… in fact, I have it right here in my hand.” Joe went on, holding a few pieces of paper in the air. 

“So now I’m going to read to you exactly what it says.” Joe said with a little smirk, before clearing his throat. 

“BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH, I AM A FUCKING WANKER CALLED MARK KNIGHT, I RUN A SHIT HALF ARSED WRESTLING PROMOTION THAT NEARLY CLOSED BECAUSE JOE CAMPBELL WANTED IT TO. BOO HOO, YOU HAVE DECLARED WAR AND I HAVE JUST SHIT MY PANTS… I’M TOTALLY UNCONSOLABLE… AND DESPITE THE FACT THAT I LOOK LIKE THE FLYING FRENCHIE, I MIGHT AS WELL TRY AND SAY SOMETHING HARSH TO JOE, TO MASK MY OTHERWISE HOMOSEXUAL DEMEANOUR. 

P.S. Please engage a satellite linkup sometime tonight.” Joe said, scowling. 

“Well… you asked for it you French faggot… so here I am.” Joe roared, the big screen suddenly flickering into action as Mark Knight’s face appeared on it to the intense boos of the attending Asylum fans, Joe looked up at him and waved. 

“Hey dickface, you wanted something?” Joe said with an arrogant smile. 

Intense boos, in a surreal moment… both arena’s filled up with boos, Asylum fans were booing Knight, 21w fans Campbell. 

And so… Mark Knight begins. 

“Did someone just interrupt me?...” Knight stopped for a moment to look sarcastically around. “Oh, look! They did!...And it's Joe Campbell. Joe...I would say it's a pleasure, but seeing your face really isn't. The only reason I got you to link up with us here, is because I want to wipe that smug look off your face after I make a REAL challenge in just a few moments. And I want to hear your response, as soon as I demand it. Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth, Joe?” 

Joe stopped for a moment and arrogantly yawned, getting a rise out of the Asylum fans. 

“No, sorry… I don’t think I do comprehend, you see I don’t speak in faggot you little anal warrior… I can hear that you’re saying something but its in such a girly little voice… I just can’t be arsed to listen. 

Now then, Pierre… did you have something important to say? Because if so… get to the fucking point.” Joe said, folding his arms. 

The Asylum fans cheered once again, but across in Madison Square Garden, the booing and 'CAMPBELL SUCKS' chants were fighting back the cheers in Long Island, considerably. It was starting to become a war between the fans, as much as it was a war between Campbell and Knight. 

“Remind me never to go to Manchester...ANYWAY.” Knight said, pausing for a moment. 

The booing and derogatory Campbell chants continued. Campbell and all the tA fans over at Everything or Nothing heard them loud and clear. But Knight just laughed... 

“Sorry, Joe...I'm wanting to get to the point here, but, I'm not sure if you can hear or not...We got about 20,000 people calling you an asshole, a jackass, a fool and an all round general prick. I'm gonna have to wait until they stop, sorry.” 

Joe tried to keep his look of confidence, although he was fuming inside. Eventually, the berating died down and Knight was allowed to speak. 

“ Splendid....Now, Campbell....You made a challenge of your best vs our best a few weeks ago. Champ versus Champ. September. I accepted, but since I did that, I've been thinking...Thinking how great it's gonna be to see our champ beat the CRAP out of your's AGAIN...But then I thought, once that's happened, I can see myself wanting more. You know? I mean, Campbell, it's just ONE MATCH...One match where we get to completely annihilate and embarrass your arses again, but then everybody has to go home and the fun's over? I just....want more. I want to destroy you, Campbell. I want to put every-single-aspect of your promotion.....TO SHAME.” 

A booming pop took 'The Garden' hostage as Knight chuckled... 

“So I'm proposing this, Joe................Yeah, it'll be champ v champ.....yeah, it'll be 21w vs the Asylum......But I say we expand this, BIG TIME....I say we take this to a full blown, three, maybe even four hour.....PAY PER VIEW!!” 

The crowd… in both arenas went absolutely ballistic. 

And somewhat oddly, Campbell smiled. 

“ Wadda ya say, CAMPBELL?! I'm talking the full friggin monty! I'm talking...EVERYTHING. Fourteen, fifteen, maybe even sixteen matches, CAMPBELL!! You want a war?! YOU REALLY WANT A WAR WITH 21W?!...THEN YOU GOT ITT!!! I SAY SEPTEMBER'S 21W INSINITY 2 IS CANCELLED. I SAY YOU CANCEL WHATEVER TWO BIT, PIECE OF CRAP PAY PER VIEW YOU HAVE PLANNED FOR SEPTEMBER AND I SAY IT'S YOUR LOT...VERUS OUR LOT! NO HIDING! NO MORE GAMES! NOW WE TAKE THIS TO THE LIMIT!” 

The crowds both explode once again… Joe pacing the Asylum for a moment or two. 

“ Wadda ya saaaay....MATE?!” Knight roared, Madison Square Garden can barely containing itself as the frenzy ensued and Joe Campbell was left to ponder, now with a more serious expression on his face. 

“Oh… I bet you want the full monty alright.” Joe said, lifting his wrist in the air and allowing it to go limp tauntingly, a few laughs broke out in the crowd but there was more a buzz of excitement… Joe was about to make a decision that would change the course of Asylum, and 21wrestling for that matter, history. 

“Just like Al Pacino as Scarface, beret boy… I asked you if you wanted to go to war, you took me up on the declaration and now here we are… live broadcast, thousands attending… millions and millions watching at home… and you’ve turned it around, now its you asking the question… do I want to go to war? 

Do I want to go to PPV? 

The answer?” Joe stopped for a moment, smiling devilishly as the crowd buzzed, and buzzed and buzzed in both arenas, he paced the Asylum for a moment, raising the mic to his mouth once or twice tauntingly… before finally unleashing a roar. 

“FUCK YEAH I WANNA GO TO WAR, FUCK YEAH I WANNA GO TO PPV… AND FUCK YOU… BECAUSE WHEN ALL IS SAID AND DONE, I AM GOING TO CRUSH THE LIFE, THE HEART… AND THE MOTHER. FUCKING. SOUL OUT OF TWENTY ONE WRESTLING.” Joe said, breathing heavily… he stared hard into the eyes of Mark Knight. 

“Just remember motherfucker… just remember, in three months time… when you’re sitting in your shitty one bedroom apartment, with nothing but shattered hopes… and broken dreams, a promotion that only exists of memories… and bad ones at that… just remember Knight. 

You asked for this.” Joe said with a snarl, thrusting the microphone to the ground as “Smack my Bitch Up” blasted out across the speakers, he stood staring intensely at Knight. 

Mark Knight nodded, whilst commendably maintaining his cool. 

“Got a little worked up there, Joey, didn't we?…But I have to admit, you've just made my day, my fellow Englishman. And you've just made the days of every single 21st Century Wrestling stakeholder because Joe, when all is said and done, 21w will have reaped its revenge on your hell bound promotion. And it's an opportunity I've been waiting almost a year for, Joe. But you see, now I've fashioned that chance for 21w. That chance for revenge. I didn't attack you when you had your back turned, when you were unsuspecting. I've made a challenge to you, man to man, to step in a ring, or a cage, or HELL, BOTH!…And I've made that challenge with the foresight of establishing one thing and one thing only, outside of revenge…And that is the fact that wrestling is superior to fighting.” 

The crowd continued to cheer, unable to digest an announcement of huge proportions just yet. 

“ And I want this to be about that, Joe. We're gonna do this, not only for 21w, but for WRESTLING. For every single wrestling federation out there. And I have the perfect name for this event, Campbell…..I want to call it…21w/tA…..IMMORTALS.” 

Knight paused for a moment as the crowd exploded, the PPV officially had a name. 

“We're witnessing history right here. An inter-promotional extravaganza between WRESTLING….and FIGHTING. 

 ….Immortals, Campbell.” Knight said… smiling just as Joe did. 

“Immortals?” Joe finished. 

“Maybe we are Knight… but in two months time… I’ll beg to differ, and Knight… before I go… 

Karmyn[Angel](c) Vs Eddie Cheno Vs Nicole Carson

This isn't a war. It's not a battle waged on personal differences or on a political agenda.  

It's just for a title.  

A simple gold plated sheet metal piece of trash that Joe Campbell uses to pawn off to people to make them feel special.  

And every now and then, you need to feel special.  

"The Blood, the Sweat, and the Tears" by Machinehead caught the pa system into a flurry of boos and a few mixed reactions. Out from the back walked Nicole Carson, dressed in a police uniform, and all the normal supplies of crime fighting on her body. See, the difference between her and Beef is, well, she's competent, she has actual crime fighting tools, and she's not a complete idiot.  

Carson made her way to the Asylum cage, cracking her knuckles and shaking her head back and forth, waiting for whatever next to walk out of the Asylum Entrance.  

"Smoke two Joints" by Sublime.  

Her guardian Angel.  

Walking up from the back and carrying a flag of his own, Eddie Cheno arrived into the arena, bong in hand, and cheers catching him from behind as he made the slow stroll to the Asylum cage. Eddie gave a few high fives to some fans at cage side, before climbing in over the top of the cage, raising his bong even higher when he reached it's apex. Eddie jumped off the cage wall, starred at Carson, as they both awaited the reason they were here.  

"Testure" by Skinny Puppy with a rise from the crowd walked the champion. Karmyn[Angel] slowly walked out of the entranceway, title in hand, and stopped at the top. She looked down at her opponents, and all that was left was them.  

She quickly ran to the ring, dropping the title on the outside of the cage, before she quickly climbed up and over the cage, and the bout was started.  

Karmyn[Angel] quickly got to her feet, and stunned Carson and Cheno, who had made their way over to attack her prematurely. Karmyn[Angel] reached up and low blowed the oncoming Cheno, before raising her left leg into a midsection savate kick. Both fighters were doubled over, as Karmyn hooked them both in three quarter face locks. She ran towards a cage wall, and flipped over Carson and Cheno quickly before they could recover. On her way down, she locked both combatants in the confounds of a Dragon Sleeper.  

She wrenched back as people watched on for what would definitely have been one of the quickest tap outs in Asylum history, before, Carson and Cheno reached over to each other.  

They grabbed each other's hands, dropped down to their knees, and used their now added balance to flip Karmyn[Angel] onto their shoulders. Karmyn[Angel] wriggled to get free, before they quickly threw her into the Asylum cage wall, face first, like a battering ram.  

Karmyn[Angel] rolled over, bleeding from the forehead, as both Cheno and Carson went back in for the kill. It seemed like they had a strategy, take out the champion, and then deal with each other if they have to. Maybe just one fall to a finish? Who really knew the rules anymore?  

Karmyn[Angel] shielded her eyes from the blood, wiping it off her forehead as Cheno and Carson moved in. Karmyn[Angel] raised her feet and booted them in the midsection, sending them back far enough for her to recover to her feet. Eddie was the first of the two to get to his feet when Karmyn[Angel] caught him with a vicious roundhouse kick that dazed his lights. The referee started his ten count, as Carson came over and tackled Karmyn[Angel] into the mat.  

Fist a flying as Carson laid into Karmyn[Angel]. With each blow, she could sense being that much closer to the championship. She felt a power, standing overtop of her fallen combatant, not backing down. Unlike on the force, she was supposed to continue the slaught from all angles, and she did. Until she went a little wild with a right hand, missing it's mark.  

Karmyn[Angel] rolled out from underneath Carson, and locker her in a Fujiwara arm bar.  

Carson let out a shrill cry of pain as Karmyn[Angel] put her weight on Carson's shoulder, and used her hands to pull her elbow into a position it shouldn't twist to.  

Cheno got to his feet, clutching his skull from the blow at a five count. He looked over and saw Karmyn[Angel] wrenching Carson with their backs to the now recovered Cheno. Eddie was going to think of the best plan of attack, but that's when he saw Carson raise her hands.  

Eddie dove and broke up the hold before Carson's hand hit the mat twice... not enough for the three time tap out.  

Eddie landed face down on the mat, which isn't exactly the best position to be in a fighting promotion such as the Asylum. He struggled to turn over, but Karmyn[Angel] landed, luckily, on top of Eddie. She however, wasn't going to give Eddie the same lucky streak, insisting Eddie falls victim to the position he threw himself into. Karmyn[Angel] grabbed a stronger Eddie by his arm before forearming him in the back of his head. His head vibrated from the impact as it slammed down to the mat. Karmyn[Angel] looked to lock Cheno into a full nelson, but Cheno was able to break the hold with his hundred pound weight advantage. When he recovered from the couple elbow shots that Karmyn[Angel] threw, he started to get back to his feet. Karmyn[Angel] locked her arms around Cheno's neck in a sleeper type hold, attempting to put the big man, down, but Eddie kept getting up to a complete standing position.  

Karmyn[Angel] dropped off, as Cheno let out a gasp for breath. Cheno turned around, right into a Rana from Karmyn[Angel]. Cheno landed face up on the canvas, as the count was started.  

Karmyn[Angel] admired her handy work until Carson clipped her knee out. Karmyn[Angel] fell like a ton of bricks, before Carson locker her in an Indian death lock. Carson, standing with Karmyn[Angel]'s legs hooked, threw her upper body back, wrenching at the knee she just clipped. Karmyn[Angel] let out a few screams in succession with Carson's couple wrenches.  

On the fifth one, Carson locked in a side inverted headlock, wrenching Karmyn[Angel]'s skull back up to the sky. Carson bridged both their bodies into an upward fashion, letting out a few cat calls.  

Karmyn[Angel] did the only thing she thought she could do, starting to rock her body back and forth. She swayed like a sea boat, before rolling Carson off of an on top position, and onto her sides. Nicole let go of the hold to capitalize, but this allowed Karmyn[Angel] to hook Carson from behind, and deliver a back hip throw in a suplex fashion. Carson landed on her neck, rolled over to a face down position, and clutched the back of her head.  

Karmyn[Angel] held her knee in pain, hobbling a bit inside the cage, before turning around to a recovered Eddie Cheno.  

And getting caught square in the jaw with the Needle Jab(Vicious front side kick). Karmyn[Angel] fell like a ton of bricks, her hand clattering against the steel cage wall, as the referee started his ten count on her.  

Cheno looked around the ring at the wreckage, and went back over to check on Nicole. He wanted to make sure she was okay, make sure the fight was fair, make sure she had a shot at the gold. He didn't want to cheat her out of something that would have made her so happy...  

But that's when a spray of fumes came from Carson's belt. Cheno got to his feet, his eyes wedged shut and tears streaming down his face. He opened them for a small bit to see if he could get a visual, but everything was blurry and bloodshot...  

Well, moreso than usual.  

Cheno clutched at his eyes, unaware that the fight was still going on, and Nicole Carson had got to her feet. Carson looked down to the mat and shook her head. A small tear ran down her check, before she locked the stumbling Eddie Cheno into a three quarter nelson. Cheno tried to fight it, and almost did, until Carson front leg tripped him down to the asylum cage. They both landed on the cage floor with a thud, as Carson was still positioned on top, and the hold loosely still in place. Locking it in, Carson used her position and sensory advantage to keep Cheno on the mat.  

And he tapped, almost at the same juncture that Karmyn[Angel]'s ten count had just finished, ruling her unconscious. Nicole broke the hold as soon as the bell was rang, and walked over to the referee to pick up her newly won United Kingdom Championship. Carson quickly dropped down to Eddie's side, and tried to help him get to his feet. Eddie was still blind and confused from the pepper spray, and reached the cage wall. Instinctively climbing out, he made he way to the back alone, feeling his way along the ringside barrier.

He didn't know it now, but in a few hours, he'd realize that Nicole screwed him out of the UK title.  

And then only God can imagine what Eddie will do.  

Until then, Nicole held title high in the air to a chorus of boos. She didn't have a smile on her face, she didn't have a look of joy and happiness, only concern.  

Winner and NEW U.K. Champion: Nicole Carson via Submission

LLB Vs Hypnosis
Asylum Championship #1 Contendership

The Fans grew into a type of panic as the Asylum Announcer entered the steel structure and began to speak upon the next Match. 

For the Number One Contendership.  

For LLB and Hypnosis.  

“Brutality” by Urban Voodoo surfaced as Hypnosis walked out to a big reaction from the crowd in attendance. He entered the cage, as he eyed the Referee in a disrespectable fashion, before “Black and White” cued up next and LLB came down. Getting almost the same amount of cheers, the lawyer rushed himself into the Asylum as he, too, eyed the Referee... trying to get across the point of wanting this Match to be called right down the middle... and to make sure nothing would get in its way between a winner, and a loser.  

Hypnosis yelled at the lawyer, while he just stayed calm, stretching his arms back, warming himself up for the testify at hand.  

Ding. Ding. Ding.  

Hypnosis chucked LLB into the side of the Asylum mesh as he bounced off and ducked a clothesline attempt. LLB quickly turned around, catching Ty in the side of the face with a superkick that put him on the mat, only to stand and rase his hands... as the Fans went wild for him.  

The lawyer kicked away at Hypnosis on the canvas, getting an even louder response. He then took Ty by the head, and rushed him to the side of the Asylum.  

Nearly falling off, Ty hooked his hands back and drove LLB to the mat with a back drop. The lawyer twisted on the floor as Hughes latched for the leg... pulling it into his body and hurling it down on the mat with great force.  

He did it again.  

And again.  

And again.  

‘The Law’ cried out, sitting up as he jammed his index finger into the eye of Hypnosis, forcing him to backtrack against the mesh. LLB threw his arm back... clubbing his opponent in the cheekbone. Hughes flew in the air again, almost out of the Asylum cage this time as LLB drew back his hard fist once more.  

Throwing it forward...  

Going directly at the nose...  

Ty rolled on the mat, turning LLB around and smacking him across the face with a blow. ‘The Law’ collapsed to the canvas, as Hypnosis hammered away with boots to the gut. He lifted "Roland" up, only to snap suplex him down... and hold on.  

Another snap suplex.  

The Crowd boomed out of their seats as Hypnosis threw at fit at the Referee, telling him to count the limp body of the lawyer below.

The white stripe obeyed his commands.  

One.  

Two.  

Three.  

Four.  

Five.  

LLB shot up like lightening, mocking Ty Hughes forward as he did. Hypnosis shrugged, taking forth, only to be tripped by LLB’s leg and Russian leg swept to the ground.  

The lawyer hurled himself directly at the cage, gaining room to run at Hypnosis while he rose. 

And he did.  

LLB went for the glory... hoping to take the Number One Contendership Crown along with him.  

‘Erroneous Conclusion’?  

No.  

Smack.  

LLB rushed himself dead into the side of the mesh, against the bars, as Hypnosis’ sidestep allowed him to regain his composure and rush directly at the lawyer... with a clothesline from hell.  

LLB doubled over, grasping his neck as he longed for some air. Hughes just stood above, though... beginning to smile.  

He dragged ‘The Law’ into what looked to be a piledriver. But as Ty pulled him forward, he didn’t abide by the rules... objecting to the move as he pushed himself up... causing Hypnosis to sail across the cage and land on his back.  

LLB drove forward... resting on the ropes as he did. He was beat. He was tired. The Match wasn’t that long... but the month past made it seem like it was.  

How much longer would he be able to hold on?  

Looking down at his right ankle, feeling it tense up just a small little bit... he knew he had to end this Bout quickly.  

He knew the case had to be closed soon.  

And he knew... if he did... Inmate would be proven guilty this time.  

No. Matter. What.  

“The errors will be fixed.” He said, as the lawyer charged in with all his might, smacking Hypnosis on the canvas with a cross body block. And for a second... thinking the cage was a ring, he stayed down for the cover, only to realize his mistake, get up, and kick Hypnosis to bits.  

Stomp after stomp after stomp... this time the ‘Jury’ was behind ‘The Law’ 100% as he whacked his souls down on Ty Hughes’ body.  

“GUIL-TY! GUIL-TY!” They chanted, cranking LLB’s motor to shoot his feet down even harder than before, ala The Rock. The lawyer then bent down, taking Ty by his pained beard and attempted to rush him toward the edge of the Asylum once more.  

Hypnosis...  

Fell out?  

Stopping dead in his tracks, right before, Hughes elbowed LLB in the back of the head, leaping in the air and catching the lawyer under the chin with a dropkick. LLB flew directly to the side of the cage, before bouncing back into Hypnosis’s waiting arms.  

Belly to belly suplex.  

LLB almost landed on his head.  

Ty looked over, seeing his opponent in a bad state. He didn’t care though. For it was his turn to take the top slot... and he’d win.  

Hughes wrapped his arms around LLB’s body, before throwing him back into a belly to belly overhead suplex. ‘The Law’ ricocheted off the mat with dramatic force as he laid motionless below Hypnosis’ legs... wondering where he was inside his head.  

Hypnosis doubled himself over as he began to get down on one knee and smash the arm of LLB until it was red. The lawyer kicked forth, blasting himself to his feet as he turned to Ty and grappled with him. Hughes had more power during this night.  

He smacked LLB to the canvas with a head whack and picked his opponent back up, as Hughes planted LLB’s face to the ground with a DDT. Hypnosis kept his clutches held tight, taking the lawyer and DDT’ing him again, this time only to jump.  

LLB did not move...  

And Hypnosis told the Ref to count.  

One.  

Two.  

Three.  

Four.  

Five.  

Six.  

Seven.  

Eight.  

Nine.  

Ten.  

Objection.  

LLB lifted his feet and stood, just before the Ref was about to call the ten, and then scream for the bell.  

The Crowd now stood too... knowing that this was the time to finish what had dragged on throughout some countless shows... and countless Matches.  

Both fighters gave it their all each step of the way.  

And the results showed.  

They were pretty much tied either way you looked at it. They were even...  

However neither man could actually accept that.  

The book of law didn’t allow for ties... thus, there were still errors to fix. And Hypnosis... he just wanted what he wanted. Another Title shot.  

They, once again, grappled together.  

LLB pushed Hypnosis back a step, only for Hypnosis to do the same, and push the lawyer an inch. The two then stayed deadlocked in the center of the ring... as their faces turned red...  

trying to back the other one down... if not, just a bloody, fucking, inch.  

“Objection!” LLB cried as he continued to jam his arms around Ty Hughes’ shoulders.  

“fuUK?”  

LLB broke apart first, cracking Hughes over the head with his forearm. Ty flew back, grabbing his nose in shock as his opponent rushed in, nailing a spear.  

Nailing the spear.  

The ‘Erroneous Conclusion’.  

‘The Law’ asked the Referee to count.  

One.  

Two.  

Three.  

Four.  

Five.  

Six.  

Seven.  

Eight.  

Nine.  

Ten.  

fuUK?  

Hypnosis, this time, got up at the last second... while a shocked LLB just stood in disbelief. 

There was a major problem here.  

LLB waited, bending down ala The Rock again, as he longed for Ty Hughes to get to his feet... so another verdict could be smacked across his cold, pathetic... sinful face.  

Whack.  

LLB fell to the floor.  

Standing over him was the Inmate... with a steel chair. The Crowd booed, as Inmate made his way out of the Asylum cage again, unnoticed by the Referee whom was checking on Hypnosis the whole time through. Ty rose, seemingly in "awe" as he did, picking LLB up...  

and...  

Hitting his running DDT.  

The white stripe just counted.  

One.  

Two.  

Three.  

Four.  

Five.  

Six.  

Seven.  

Eight.  

Nine.  

Ten.  

“Objection!” LLB whooped as he barely got up, but did. Blood dripped down his head... his eyes were blurred and shaky... he was in a world of pain... but the law would have to die before he actually stayed right down... or at least be fully knocked out.  

Hypnosis’ eyes widened, just like LLB’s would when he was mad or didn’t quite understand what was going on.  

Ty shook his head... maybe even in respect for ‘The Law’ himself. But walking over, and connecting with one more running DDT, this time... it was academic.  

“TEN!” The Ref screamed as he came to the end of his count, with the bell sounding... and the Fans booing. They were happy Hypnosis had won... but weren’t happy about the Inmate.  

“Brutality” by Urban Voodoo played, as Hypnosis walked out of the cage and up the ramp...  

while LLB hardly moved on the canvas.  

The trial was closed...  

Winner: Hypnosis via Knockout

Early Exit.

“Ah, I love the smell of money.” Joe Campbell chuckled to himself as he paced through the parking lot, the show had come to a close… and Joe had achieved it all. 

“What a night, first I pocket a cool thirty grand for pretty much nothing, then I get to berate that fucking French nancy boy Mark Knight on national television… THEN, I mastermind a huge Pay Per View that’ll turn in probably the most income, EVER.  

AND THEN, to sweeten things even more… I get the fuck out of here and completely avoid the shit that's gonna go down when the fans find out there's no main event.” Joe said with a sly grin, taking out his car keys. 

“I should leave three quarters of an hour early more often.” Joe chuckled to himself “I might even miss the traffic.” 

Unfortunately however… he wouldn’t. 

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECCCCCCCCH! 

THUD! 

Joe fell to the pavement with a thud… clipped by the front corner of a black limousine… he lies groaning and cursing. 

“What the fuck.” Joe said with a grimace… looking up as a door flung open and a pair of heavy boots clambered out of it. 

Joe crawled over to the boots. 

“Hey dickface… watch the fuck where you’re going, do you even know who I amERK!” Joe stopped grumbling, because a hand had clasped him firmly across the throat, Joe squirmed and gagged, before being brought face to face. 

With a black mask. 

“Whergh… whourhg… who the fuc…” Joe coughed and spluttered, being face to face with the individual, his feet were now hovering a few inches from the floor. 

He never finished his question… for a few seconds later, he was lifted… and slammed hard to the cold pavement with a thud, his head hiding the floor hard. 

THUD. 

THUD. 

SPLAT. 

Two solid kicks to the ribs, and a punt to the face later… Joe lay coughing and choking on blood, as the figure paced away and clambered into the limo from whence he had appeared. 

As Joe heard the door clunk shut… he saw one thing between bright tail lights as he faded into unconsciousness. 

Damning evidence. 

A number plate. 

The Stench of Fear.

“I Disappear” by Metallica. 

A mixed reaction for Tyler Burton, the Inmate… was nothing new, as his battered and bruised frame parted the curtains at the top of the ramp, one part of his remained flawless and undamaged, the solid silver Asylum championship which rested on his shoulder. 

Pacing down the aisle… Inmate still looked battle weary following his colossal war with Nerva many weeks ago, between then and Everything or Nothing… he’d had to defend his Asylum championship, and didn’t look in the greatest of shape. 

Physically, and mentally. 

Tyler clambered up the Asylum steps, and raised the belt high above his head… as camera’s flickered and flashed all around him.  He finally climbed into the Asylum and gestured for a microphone, seconds later… he spoke. 

“So this is what it feels like to be back on top.” Inmate began with a sneer, pacing around the Asylum a few times. 

“And I gotta admit… through the bruises, through the hemorrhaging, through the stitches and overall through the fuckin’ pain… it feels good.” Inmate said, a disturbing smirk appearing upon his face as he finished. 

“But despite feeling good… I got a lot of other problems right now that I just can’t seem to shake, the first… is just exactly who the fuck I am… I’ll be honest, I can’t even tell anymore… but more and more, day by day… Joe Campbell is showing me my true self, and you know something? 

I’m starting to like it.” Inmate said once again, the same sinister smile on his face. 

“I’m starting to like the fact that I’m a six time Asylum champion, I’m starting to like the fact that I destroyed 21wrestling, I tried to destroy the CWL, I burnt down fWo’s motherfucking screen… I’m starting to like it all, I’m starting to accept it all… who I am, one fucking son of a bitch that won’t stay down, I’ve been battered, shot… but nobody can stop me, even I can’t stop me…  

I’m a racist, I’m a woman beater… I’m a fucking asshole and there ain’t nothing anybody can do about it.” Inmate sneered, spitting as he spoke… the crowd now starting to boo him. 

“And now that I recognize all of those things… its about time some of you little fucks backstage did too… its Everything or Nothing, a Pay Per View… and I don’t even have a fucking match, I’m the Asylum champion and I don’t have a match… you know what that says? 

That says disrespect. 

But oh no, ain’t no way that any of you have the balls to disrespect me… so I’m guessing it’s the age old alternative… 

None of you have the BALLS.” Tyler roared, glaring to the top of the aisle. 

“That’s right… you all saw FightHell2, you all saw what I did to that little slagwhore Nerva, you saw me kick the shit out of her twice over and make her scream, make her tap in front of her home crowd while she almost drowned in her own blood.  And I’m willing to bet that none of you want that, none of you want to step into the Asylum with me because you know exactly what it entails. 

Blood. 

Sweat. 

DEFEAT!” Tyler roared… sweat now pouring down his face as he breathed heavily. 

“So here I am motherfuckers… I’m right her in my zone, this title right here… its on the line, if any of you little bitches has what it takes, then you’ll get the fuck out here… right now> and get what’s comin’ to ya.” Inmate roared, dropping the title on the canvas and pointing down at it, as he looked to the top of the aisle… it appeared as though nobody would take up the challenge… 

But they would. 

“The Shawshank Redemption” by Thomas Newman. 

Richard Williams and 2^nd, and his 6’9” 292lbs monster of a son, Ricky Wasp. 

Inmate’s eyes widened slighty. 

“So, what do we got here? Some big pile of Alabama trash? Looks like it to me… say son, where’s your trailer? Shouldn’t you be out eating squirrels or something? Fuck… don’t make me sick… in fact, what the hell… if your rookie ass has the brass balls to come out here and face the champion, which you obviously do… that or sheer stupidity but hey, probably the latter. 

Then bring it, the fuck. On.” Inmate growled… as Wasp began his march down to the Asylum. 

He hadn’t made if far down the aisle however… before his music was interrupted. 

“Black & White” by Static-X. 

LLB. 

The crowd exploded. 

“OBJECTION!” LLB roared… the crowd popping as he did. 

“So Tyler, your obviously feeling generous tonight? That’s good… because perhaps you can give me a little something as well… something that I’ve been waiting for, for a long time.” LLB said with a glint in his eye. 

“Hey… loser, didn’t you lose already tonight? Yep… that’s right, so get the fuck outta here.” Inmate sneered. 

“OBJECTION!” LLB roared again, this time fire in his eyes “This isn’t about what you want Tyler… this is about what the Jury wants, they want to see The Law involved in this match. 

Period.” LLB finished, tossing his microphone to the floor. 

“You know what?” Inmate began “I came out here asking for a challenge… and what do I get in exchange? A fucking hick pile of shit… and some deluded Lawyer that found his degree in a cereal box… fuck it, get your ass down here too, I feel like whipping the snot out of both of you.” Inmate grunted, throwing his mic down as Wasp reached the Asylum. 

And LLB followed close behind. 

 

Inmate(c) Vs Ricky Wasp Vs LLB

A turn up for the books. 

Several hours ago, when Everything or Nothing sprung to the airwaves… nobody could have predicted the awakening of such a colossal main event, furthermore… nobody could have predicted that standing before reigning Asylum champion; the Inmate Tyler Burton… would be the loser of a number one contendership match in LLB, and even more surprisingly… a debuting beast… in Ricky Wasp. 

It wasn’t often that an Asylum fighter had a good run in their first couple of months, let alone being thrust into a main event championship match in their first ever duel… but cut from stone, Ricky Wasp looked inch for inch, and pound for pound… worth his spot. 

And it appeared as though Tyler Burton, and Roland Miles Erman for that matter, felt much the same. 

As the three men stood in the Asylum prior to their altercation… a buzz rushed through the crowd, LLB and the Inmate glared at each other momentarily… but as they did, the 6’9” beast Ricky Wasp took a solitary step forward, in a shot… Inmate and LLB set their attentions straight back onto him, before making what appeared to be an executive decision. 

They rushed. 

A surefire tactic against a big fighter, get him off his feet… the two rushed in, lowering their heads for a joint take down, it appeared as though despite their differences, Inmate and LLB hadn’t forgotten their pre Mind Games relationship, despite it being forged with lies… the two had learned each other’s fighting skills… and were thinking on the same wavelength as they went to take down Ricky Wasp. 

Only to be surprised. 

The monster let out a harrowing roar, rushing forward like a bull which had previously been released from its paddock, he countered the two men who could only tumble shocked. 

Wasp hit them both in the midsection, forcing them back like a battering ram into the unforgiving steel rim of the Asylum structure, both LLB and Inmate roared in agony as Wasp backed away and lunged forth again, crushing them for a second… and later third time into the Asylum rim. 

As Wasp backed away and tensed up his massive frame… LLB and Inmate reeled from the blow, each man favouring their spines from the impact, regardless… they rushed in again with another attempt to take the huge man down, only to fail once more for their efforts. 

Wasp’s second reply was much more of a flash in the pan, instead of gaining a head of steam, he simply ducked, allowing each man to run into his shoulder, before standing… gathering up the two men over each shoulder… before slamming them back down brutally to the canvas… areas of the crowd popping in disbelief. 

A mixed and strange reaction for Ricky Wasp… one the one hand, he was a lower than life white racist supremasict… on the other hand, he’d just shown two sheer displays or raw power and aggression, that’d left two of the Asylum’s greatest competitors down on the canvas. 

However… in the Asylum, two manouvre’s was a long road from victory. 

As Wasp would soon discover. 

The giant suddenly felt his knee buckle, victim of a strategic clip from the Inmate who had rolled under and away from Wasp upon the impact of his devastating throw… LLB had also rolled away for a moment to recover… but it was Tyler Burton who had launched the attack. 

Stiff kicks to the thigh of Wasp seemed to agitate as opposed to injure… Wasp spun, and Inmate’s eyes widened as he ducked and evaded a bear like swipe, Wasp’s massive arm and hand missing the champion’s head narrowly, the momentum was so swift that Ricky spun full circle. 

SMACK. 

And caught a wicked right hand in the mouth from LLB, the lawyer had clearly been delving into the box of tricks in recent months, his wrestling style taking up more and more fighting attributes with every passing week… the punch to the mouth in fact, drawing first blood of the match… a trail of crimson flying from Wasp’s lip and spraying the canvas. 

THUD. 

Another stiff kick from Burton… this time Wasp felt the blow, his leg buckling slightly as it connected, smack! Another stunning shot from LLB reeled the big man back even further, suddenly… Inmate and LLB were both drawing back. 

CRUNCH! 

Both men plastered Wasp with shots of their own… sending the big man tumbling back into the mesh and Asylum rim, using it for support… he looked somewhat dazed, the shaking of his own head a telltale sign. 

So much for cooperation. 

No sooner had Wasp been temporarily disposed of, were Inmate and LLB at each others throats… exchanging rapid punches without mercy… neither man backing down to the challenge the other was setting… smack… smack… smack… knuckle upon flesh again and again, each man firing into the other all of the hate they’d build up over the past few months. 

CRUNCH~! 

Advantage Inmate, the way he knew best… a sharp, swift boot to the groin of LLB broke his momentum and doubled him over… before finally sending him down to the canvas with a solid elbow between the shoulder blades. 

Inmate stepped back, measuring a knee to the temple that would probably knock the Lawyer out cold, if not kill him where he lay. 

BAM. 

Denied. 

The Lawyer rose up, blocking the knee with both hands and gritting his teeth… seconds later, he would show the Inmate that playing dirty wasn’t a unique trait whatsoever. 

CRUNCH! 

Favour returned, a solid clenched fist from LLB caught Inmate square in the jewels… Tyler exhaled as his face grew bright red… LLB drawing back, and nailing him low with a second punch! As Inmate staggered back like a neutered dog… LLB rose to his feet, snapping Inmate across the face with a wicked right hand… presumably breaking his nose in the process, a stream of thick blood enough evidence to suggest so. 

Inmate fell against the Asylum rim… and LLB saw gold, measuring up… he rushed, for the Conclusion was near, and in a twist of irony… it would be anything but erroneous. 

LLB leapt, the final process of what would be a killer blow. 

He never, however… made the impact. 

LLB found himself floating above the canvas… held by a force which would only be identified as he turned his head. 

Ricky Wasp. 

Overlooked? Maybe… forgotten, not a chance… Wasp had caught LLB in full flight and in a display of raw power, was holding him by the back of the neck and tights in mid air, one vicious spin later… Wasp threw LLB like a ragdoll into the mesh, almost like he’d ran straight into it with his finishing move. 

LLB’s head and neck compacted, and in a disturbing moment, his entire body folded upon them, he fell to the canvas completely motionless… telltale signs of a broken neck echoed by the sentiments of the crowd who hushed to almost silence. 

Had LLB not forcefull struck the referee in his flight, a count would have been administered. 

The fallen referee however, would never see the beating that Rick Wasp was about to continue. 

SMACK! 

Blood showered the Asylum… Wasp drawing back and sending a nothing less than brutal elbow straight into the already broken nose of the Inmate… further putting him out of things, the newcomer however… wasn’t finished. 

Grabbing Inmate by the belt of his orange khakis, he lifted him high above his head… Inmate’s limp and dangling arms enough to suggest that he was unconscious… the roar he let out however upon being slammed rib first against the Asylum rim was more than enough to imply that the pain had woken him up. 

Wasp pulled Inmate up again, effortlessly… dropping him once more across the Asylum rim, rib first… Inmate’s torso was now quickly bruising… he’d probably broken more than a few ribs as Wasp picked him up and slammed him down for a third and final time… straight to the canvas. 

The champion had fallen… and was now trying to crawl like a wounded animal, however… the predator was stalking, the newcomer clearly hungry for what would be a first, and huge Asylum victory, Ricky Wasp reached down and wrapped his large hands around the throat of Tyler Burton… before lifting him effortlessly into a choke! 

Inmate kicked and struggled… the air and fight being slowly drained from him by the panther like grip, slowly… the veins in Tyler’s eyes began to bulge as the last breaths of oxygen drained away… but one again, lady luck played her role. 

Kicking wildly, Inmate got lucky… catching Wasp below the belt with a solid kick… Ricky immediately dropped Inmate to the canvas, but before he could even entertain doubling over… he was caught by an even more unexpected, wicked blow. 

Revenge, as it were. 

CRACK! 

The Erroneous Conclusion. 

The crowd totally, absolutely and completely exploded… LLB had risen from a worryingly motionless position to a now seemingly victorious one, he caught Ricky Wasp square on with the blow, the impact knocking Ricky to the canvas, from there he rolled over and clutched his ribs… it appeared as though for the first time in the bout, the big man had been hurt. 

LLB was quick to capitalise however… seeing the still down and out Inmate on the canvas, he didn’t hesitate for a second in wrapping up his legs, turning him over… and wrenching back hard… with the Testify. 

Inmate roared in agony, tapping the canvas repeatedly… unfortunately, there was no referee to register the decision, that however… was set to change. 

A referee burst through the curtain at the top of the aisle, as soon as he hit the Asylum, he’d legally be able to call the match… he was being outpace however, by a figure running through the crowd. 

A figure clutching a chair. 

Step. 

Leap. 

Stand. 

SMACK. 

Fluent motion, Hypnosis ran up the steps, leapt the Asylum rim, measured… and delivered a simply bone crunching chair shot to the side of LLB’s head… LLB slumped to the canvas as Ty Hughes threw down the chair and leapt out of the Asylum, pacing the ringside. 

The crowd booed Hypnosis as he continued to watch the match developments as they unfolded… slowly but surely, Ricky Wasp staggered to his feet, and pulled up a now bleeding from the head LLB, picking him up… at appeared as though he was now looking to kill things off as quickly as possible. 

Father’s eyes. 

Ricky’s father let out a resounding “Finish it!” cry from the side of the Asyum… as Ricky looked to hit a move dedicated by name to his father, he picked LLB up over his shoulder… the next step would be to simply toss him over and out of the Asylum for the win. 

But things were never that simple. 

The lawyer suddenly got a second win, despite bleeding profusely from the head… LLB reached down and snared Ricky Wasp around the throat with a front facelock… Wasp immediately began to struggly, and the two slumped ominously against the Asylum mesh and rim. 

As Hypnosis once again swooped in. 

Coming up the steps, Hypnosis grabbed LLB and started to pull at him, trying to drag him out of the Asylum… this would have been the end for the Lawyer… had the Inmate now somehow… someway, stumbled to his feet and grabbed one of Ricky Wasp’s tree trunk legs… forcing it into the air. 

One shift of weight later… a pissed off LLB and Ricky Wasp were both struggling up from the arena floor. 

Inmate, losing blood and broken to bits inside, collapsed to the ground as the referee passed him his Asylum championship… “I Disappear” was playing across the speakers… but the war didn’t seem to be over just yet… because Hypnosis and LLB were now exchanging massive blows outside the Asylum… and snarling, cursing Ricky Wasp… was making his way back up into the Asylum. 

The emphasis being on, was. 

In a match full of appearances, yet another came in the final moments… the telltale blue and blonde hair of Token Weed as he rushed down the aisle and leapt into the Asylum… not before completely acing Ricky Wasp from the steps with a Pump Kick, Wasp fell to the arena floor as his Father rushed over to him… but Token didn’t continue the assault… he merely picked up Tyler Burton… and helped him out of the Asylum and up the aisle. 

Winner and STILL Asylum Champion: Inmate via Ringout

You name it.

Inmate sat silently, looking up at Token Weed, a bit confused. Why did that crazy fucker help him? Why did he win the fight for Inmate, the only word Inmate could think of, was "Why?". 

"Borst, what happened out there man," Token said solemnly looking over at Inmate, who just looked up giving Token a crazy look.  

"Borst?" Inmate said, letting the name hang in the air.  

"Come on Pete, don't fuck with me, you didn't just find out your last name is Sukalotadik and we cant say the name 'Borst' on PPV now?" Token said a bit sarcastically. "What happened man, to many shots to the head lately, what's the matter Borst" Token said, emphasizing Borst every time he said the name.  

"I...I...I dunno man, by the way, what's your name again?" Inmate stammered out, looking up at Token.  

"Token Weed, but Pete...Boris...Borst...  or what ever the hell you want me to call you, you can call me Sean," Token said, as Inmate looked up at him his eyes a little glazed over.  

"Alright Sean, call me... Pete... I guess..." Inmate said looking at Token, Token just looked at him and grinned.  

"So Pete you want to hit a few bars up in town on Monday, we'll drink your confusion away," Token said handing Inmate a note.  

"See ya later Pete, and make sure your at the bar," Token said as he began to walk out of the room.  

"Oh yea, Sean, by the way, thanks for saving my ass out there. See ya Monday," Inmate said as Token looked back at him.  

"No problem, Pete, see ya Monday," Token said walking out the door, slamming it shut. Token looked down the hall way, spotting an exit and grinning. Inmate sat silently, looking down at the piece of paper.