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"I
will see your rise and fall
Knock knock, Joe. Joe was filing the final papers for Fight Hell 3. With these papers, everything and anything on this night would be as legal as prostitution in Amsterdam. But, before that moment could come -- he felt the shadow on his back. He lowered his head. Somehow, he knew who was behind him. He could smell the leather of the man's coat, could feel fan-generated wind lightly whipping the man's tattered ends of his jeans. Could hear the jangling sounds of tens of zippers moving about. Could see the black -- utter, total black -- of the man's knee-high boots. He could sense the hate. This would usually have been where one of Joe's many watchers would've stepped in but Thanh Vactor, Osyrus and Dez Aragon all had matches to prepare for. "It's the son of Saccaro... isn't it? Little cunt." "I'm not so little anymore, Joe. No smaller than your soul is." Joe raised his head. He still didn't turn to ensure that this was the right person he had identified. "What do you want? I heard from... little birdies... that you were in the neighborhood." "That's right. Your robins and blue jays and all those damned fowls that you have packed into your wallet... they gave you good info. Congrats." "Just shut the fuck up with the bird shit and tell me what you're doing here." "You know why I'm here. Your goddamned uncle." "He wasn't my uncle, asswipe." "I don't give half a fuck, Campbell. Shut up. Your... legal guardian, whatever you want to call him. Ronnie Massaro. You know, the guy whom you tarnished to make this media machine. He got my dad fired. And I know... he got my dad killed." "Gimme proof." "I only have to believe... and you've got to believe it, too, down in your heart. You know the facts as well as I do, Campbell. And you know, down deep, there is legitimate proof... the only question is, do I have it yet?" "Well, good to know, but I haven't got a heart, or a soul... or any clue of what you're talking about. Now get your fuckwit ass out of here." "I will, Campbell... but I came here because I don't plan on leaving." The door to the office opened. "My name is Michael Saccaro... and you just filed my contract into legality, Joe. I'm here to make your life sore... because I'm gonna take and rip this promotion out from under you, like Kinkade is doing. Like Universal couldn't do. I'm going in, on the inside, and I'm gonna eat you alive from there. See you next Sunday, Joe." The door slammed shut. And Joe thought a simple thought. I've really got to fucking read these papers.
The psychology of man. A dark room stank like sweat... A single light swayed back and forth in the darkness of the room... "Psychiatry.. It's a funny thing... You pay money and I fuck with your life..." The voice trailed off as a slight snicker escaped... "What does it mean to you? It means you pay someone 325 dollars an hour to listen to your words... Why pay that much? I know why they pay that much.... If they didn't No one would listen.." The light slowly stopped swaying as graphic images of murder, rape and other violent acts began to play on the wall cast from a projector somewhere out of view. "Such acts are usually blamed on a psyco-traumatic experience during childhood... But honestly in my opinion that is just a scapegoat for cowards who can't admit that humans are barbaric." A man slowly stepped in front of the projected images. Tattoos covering his body like graffiti scrawled in anger... Slowly as he lowered his glasses slightly as the images changed from atrocities to snippets of matches from the Asylum... "At least these people stand up and prepare for execution like men... And I, I go to make sure their heads hit the basket below the chopping block..." The man slowly turned his back and watched the brutality of the Asylum... "There is much more to learn but... That can wait until next session" The man reached up and grabbed hold of the light above unscrewing the bulb from it's socket and dropping the bulb as the projector image faded out.
Deal with the Devil. "So where the fuck have you been? Kyrpton Vactor and Osy not being in the same room with one another I can understand but you should've been here to put a fist through that sneaky Italian cunts face... Saccaro? I'll fucking kick him in his Saccaro if he comes in here making threats again, speaking of Italian cunts." Joe's last words were mumbled as a certain individual walked into the room. Dez Aragon's eyes sat dead set on Frank Minio. Not because he had anything personal against him, but because it was his job, his habit. Plus, Frank Minio was slowly showing to be just as crazy as the rest of the vagrants around the Asylum locker rooms. Frank had just arrived into the room as Joe finished his rant and sipped on his liquor, here at Fighthell. He grinned, happy to be this close to finally ridding himself of the Asylum, and at the small event he was about to orchestrate. "Frankie! I have a small offer for ya." Joe muttered, the alcohol on his breath riding the oxygen to give a bitter musk into Frank's nostrils. Frank nodded for Joe to continue, interesting, slightly. "I have a man employed, sad to say, by my wonderful crumbling empire here. Calling himself Lucifer. I want you to send that loon home in a damn meat wagon, ya follow mate?" Joe grinned deeply, all to comfortable in his chair. "I follow." Frank said solemnly. He was deep in his own thoughts, probably of some wild goose chase of pipe dreams of lives past, present, and non-existent. "If ya do this for me, I'll find more work for you, and I'll find work for all of your little friends that you called me about. Considering there is still a a lot of trash to take around here.!" Joe broke into a rigid laughter, pointing to the door. Frank took his cue and walked quickly out, to prepare for a quick beat down.
"Blood" by El-P. Everyone in the Qualcomm Stadium rose to their feet and roared supportively as Frank Minio parted the curtains and marked the beginning of Asylum's FIGHTH3LL. Usually the Nevada native would've acknowledged such a rapturous chorus of cheering on his way down to the Asylum but tonight he'd been given a task to complete that left him in a less than appreciative mood. He would have to quickly adjust to his new surroundings and doing what he was about do would surely be a regular thing as long as he was obligated to act upon the will of Joe Campbell. Tonight he'd been told to hurt his opponent so that was what he would do. Minio stepped into the Asylum and immediately made his way over to the opposing side, turning his back on the entranceway as his music slowly faded out. BOOM. The entire video wall and top of the aisle way went up in a burst of huge flames that slowly died down to let "The Hell Song" by Sum 41 hit the speakers and Lucifer himself to appear on the ramp with a microphone in hand. It was a spectacular entrance that left Minio's arrival looking somewhat pale in comparison, Lucifer's explosion of flames and bravado wouldn't have been out of place at a wrestling event. "AHAHAHA! I HAVE RETURNED AND WHAT A FITTING TIME IT IS TO DO SO, IN HELL!" Lucifer screamed into the microphone "I SEE THAT TONIGHT WE HAVE SOME ITALIAN DUDE LOOKING TO MAKE A NAME FOR HIMSELF, WELL THIS MAY JUST BE YOUR LUCKY NIGHT MARIO BECAUSE YOU WILL FOREVER BE REMEMBERED AS HE WHO WAS BURNED AT THE HANDS OF LUCIFER!" It was the typical Lucifer arrival... a huge introduction and a lot of mocking and insults, but there was something different about tonight. Frank Minio just continued to stand with his back turned as though he'd completely zoned out anything that was going on behind him, concentrating not on what was happening before the match but what would happen during it. "INSOLENT FOOL!" Lucifer screamed "YOUR DEFIANCE WILL BE GREETED ONLY WITH THE RAGE OF ONE THOUSAND RAGING, RAGEFUL, RAGERS." Giving up on riling up his opponent, Lucifer made charge toward the Asylum as the crowd stayed on their feet in anticipation of what was to come. Lucifer was by no means even in the same class as Minio in fighting terms but he was renowned for being able to take incredible punishment... perhaps tonight would be his lucky night. Lucifer charged into the Asylum but was greeted by a turning Minio who caught him with a snapping right jab. Lucky night? Maybe not. Lucifer hit the deck... a man who'd been hit in the head with sledge hammers and recovered had just gone down to a simple right hand. Confused more than anything Lucifer rose to his feet and staggered about the canvas as Minio circled slowly around him. Furious and a little embarrassed by the Asylum newcomer a man who'd been in the promotion since it's first event rushed forth looking to make amends, throwing himself toward Minio with a flying kick only to hear the crowd's delight as Minio caught him by the leg and swung him viciously around into the Asylum rim. Clutching his back in agony Lucifer didn't even realize that he was letting down his guard further, where other fighters would've stepped back for a moment to taunt Minio shot in ruthlessly by sending a tremendously fast right, left, right and left again combo of fists into Lucifer's ribs. The man who claimed that hell was his home was finding out fast that he needed to relocate. Lucifer vomited across the canvas, such was the punishing extent of the shots to his ribs as a "Holy Shit! Holy Shit!" chant broke out. In almost four years of competition there had been a lot of sights in the Asylum but not many matches had involved blows so stunning that they'd induced vomiting. "YOU WILL NOT SHAME SATAN IN HIS HOME TOWN!" Lucifer screamed as he almost slipped through his own vomit upon getting to his feet. He turned to Minio who was waiting for him to make a move... where caution would've proved to be the more sensible approach Lucifer steamed in with a right hand that was caught by Minio... ...who dragged Lucifer using his own momentum to deliver a stunning punch to the back of his skull. He called it the Flatliner and while Lucifer wasn't dead he was likely out for the count, not even throwing up his hands to cushion his fall he'd merely fell face first to the canvas with a hefty smack. As the official started to count, Minio remembered his conversation with Campbell earlier in the night and let out a regretful sigh because of what he had to do next. Instead of letting the official make a count on the downed Lucifer he took him by the arm and applied a rather simple looking armbar. Until he snapped back and clear as day, broke Lucifer's arm at the joint. "Ohhhhhhhhhh!" The crowd exclaimed in shock as they looked at the video wall for a second glimpse of Lucifer's arm bending horribly far back. Minio released the hold immediately as the barely conscious Lucifer tapped the canvas with his healthy arm. "Blood" by El-P hit up again as Minio clambered out of the Asylum as quickly as he arrived, the huge ovation from the crowd wouldn't erase the partial guilt for what he'd just accomplished. As EMT's rushed the Asylum to tend to Lucifer and arena staff mopped up the vomit from the canvas. FIGHTH3LL moved on from what had possibly been the most brutal opening to an event in Asylum history. Winner: Frank Minio via Submission
Subject to terms and conditions. "Halo" by Soil. Enter Asylum's only hope of bringing Kinkade to FIGHTH3LL to defend the Asylum championship. Reports for the night thus far had been foggy, some arena staff had speculated that The Jersey Devil had already arrived while security had claimed that he definitely hadn't passed through the doors. Having asked more than enough people if they'd seen his newfound nemesis Token opted to go back to the usual way that he solved a problem, the quickest and move abrasive way. "Alright you fuck, I know you're here somewhere." Token barked as he paced out onto the steel rampway with Kinkade's Immortal title clasped in one hand "Now I'm not the fucking Freak, you ain't getting any of that slow and methodical shit from me. Either you come out here and agree to take part in the main event later tonight or I'm gonna take a fucking shit on this belt... before I bust it into about eight thousand pieces!" Token continued furiously down the aisle as the crowd roared with approval, one hefty toss later the shiny gold Immortal title landed with a hefty thud in the middle of the Asylum. "Come on faggot!" Token roared again as he clambered into the Asylum, snatching a sledge hammer as he went before spitting a thick mouthful of phlegm onto the belt "I'll do it!" He shouted as he drew back the hammer. Still nothing occurred at the top of the aisle. SMACK. People in the arena almost dropped silent as Token once again showed his lack of patience when it came to waiting for something, he brought down the hammer right on the center plate of the belt and cracked it. "Not gonna be much left of this if you aren't quick, fuck." Token snarled, drawing back furiously again... ...until the lights went out. "In my
eyes, indisposed "Black Hole Sun" by Soundgarden came accompanied with Kellen Kinkade at the top of the aisleway and an incredible amount of booing and jeering. "Last time I was here someone tricked into digging a pretty deep hole." Kinkade snarled "If you bring that hammer down again you won't need tricks my friend, because I'll dig a hole and bury you in it without a second thought." The crowd continued to boo before looking to Token for retort. "You'll need to grow a set before you can live up to that promise." Token said with a smile "But here you are... looks like you're half way there, gonna come down here and take this belt back, tough guy?" Kinkade didn't reply, he simply made his way down the aisle and up the steps as the crowd roared with anticipation for what was to come. Kinkade clambered over the Asylum rim and made his way directly over to Token who stood in front of the belt with the sledge hammer. "Are you going to get out of my way or shall I move y-" Kinkade began only to be swiftly cut off. "Smack My Bitch Up" by Prodigy. Joe Campbell appeared on the ramp to a reaction only slightly better than the awful one that Kinkade had received upon his arrival. With a broad smile on his face Joe spoke up "Nice to see you made it Kinkade, shall I fetch some handbags for you guys or are you going to produce your own?" A smart remark that wasn't appreciated by most of the crowd, who didn't quite get the joke. "Nice to see you accepted my offer Kink-" "SHUT THE FUCK UP." Kinkade screamed, getting a huge ovation from he crowd despite their contempt for him "You think I'm here because of some bullshit gamble that you've come up with? I'm here because this piece of shit standing in front of me." Kinkade scowled over at Token "Keeps turning up at fWo events and getting in the way of important things, I'm here to finish things with this asshole... it has nothing to do you you so walk your ass back through the curtains and drink something you sad little alky fuck." Token smirked to himself "Gonna have to agree with him for once Campbell, fuck off and do something productive like reenact the Kenny Rock suicide." The crowd laughed and jibed at Campbell insanely as he scowled at the top of the aisle, humiliated on Asylum's biggest annual event he skulked to the back like a scolded dog. "Now that prick is out of the way, you gonna give me a reason to hit you in the face with this?" Token sneered at Kinkade as he held the sledge hammer menacingly. "Not before I tell you that I'm prepared to defend the Asylum championship tonight in the match that was proposed, but I have terms." Kinkade shot back as Token added in "Shoot." "First of all I want it to be a ladder match, both belts suspended above the ring... whichever one you grab you get to walk away with." Token smirked to himself "Ladders... you haven't seen me fight often have you?" "Never stayed awake for a full match." Kinkade sniped back "And secondly I'm not down with four Asylum guys and just me... I want to bring in someone from the fWo to compete as well." Token displayed another satisfied smile "All pussies anyway, bring whoever the fuck you like." "So we've got a deal?" Kinkade said as Token nodded with a "Yep." "Good." Kinkade said as he stepped a little closer "By the way Sean, you can keep ahold of the belt until later but do you know what's going to happen if you hit it with that hammer again?" "Surpr-" Token began to speak but was promptly cut off. CRUNCH. A firm kick below the belt from Kinkade sent him down to his knees... it only took him a couple of seconds to recover and be ready to pummel The Jersey Devil with the sledge but Kinkade had already made a quick exit from the Asylum. "You get one for every scratch I find on it when I take it back later tonight." Kinkade laughed maniacally as he exited up the aisleway... giving Token time to scream a line similar to that he'd screamed at Kinkade not seven days ago. "YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD!"
Wrestling Rules “So You Wanna Be A Champion?” Champion by Grinspoon played as “The Original” Jeff Garvin walked down to a make-shift ring to the side of the ramp. Garvin had an ever noticeable smirk on his face and a microphone in hand; it was going to be a long night for fans in San Diego. “I stand here, in this very ring, for the first ever Jeff Garvin Invitational Wrestling Challenge at Fighth3ll. Now even you in the third row with no teeth know that wrestling is superior to fighting, so I decided to entertain you all if for just one match. Now any one fuck from the back can come down here and wrestle me, Jeff Garvin.” Just then the banjo and the drums played signifying the beginning of “Eastbound and Down” and the crowd half groaned and half cheered when they saw who was walking out onto the ramp. Hank Earl Hoskins. Hank Earl Hoskins who was carrying a fifth of Jack Daniels and noticeably plastered by the expression of disgust from his breath that reached to the second row. And by god, he had a microphone. “Hank Earl’s gonna rassle yew boy. Yew thank thayt yew can cume down haire wit yew’s faggot rasslin an’ wunt sume fighta? Well Hank Earl’s gonna beat tha holy shit outta ya.” The crowd cheered, well sorta. “Hold up there Tex. Seeing that your whole offense is punching, we are going by wrestling rules. No closed fists, no eye gouging, straight up rules. Got that?” H e H nodded and took a swig of his JD bottle and stumbled down to the ring. He let a horrid belch and set down the bottle on the ring steps and then dove into the ring, hat firmly on his head. The referee reluctantly rung the bell and the match was underway. Garvin started off by flipping off Hoskins, who immediately charged at Garvin. Being impaired, Hoskins stumbled and went shoulder first into a turnbuckle. Garvin, taking advantage of this, put H e H on the second turnbuckle and hit a Russian leg sweep off the second rope. Hank Earl went down hard and Garvin nonchalantly placed his boot on the chest of the fallen “Hammer”. One… Two… “Get ya fuckin’ shues offa Hank Earl” Hoskins then kicked Garvin square in the “Garvinator.” Garvin groaned and fell down in heap in the middle of the ring. Hoskins, remembering something from watching the old WCCW and signals for something. Garvin stumbles to his feet and locks Garvin in the Iron Claw ala Kevin Von Erich. Garvin no sold it and then booted him in the stomach and suddenly hit the Original Slam and Hank Earl’s hat went flying onto the top of a turnbuckle. This time Garvin did a full pin. One… Two… “Get ya queer ass offa Hank Earl” Hank Earl Hoskins flipped over Jeff Garvin. Both men got to their feet as the referee removed the hat from the ring and Garvin saw the whiskey bottle. Garvin grabbed the bottle and smashed it over H e H’s head and tossed the neck aside and caught Hoskins in the Memphis Death Certificate. The referee turns around to see a bloody Hank Earl Hoskins being covered by Jeff Garvin and a puddle of glass and whiskey nearby, so he did what came naturally. He counted the pin as the crowd booed. One… Two… Three. "Champion" by Grinspoon hit up again as Jeff Garvin made a swift exit before a furious H e H could get back to his feet and take revenge. The crowd booed The Original as he made his was up the aisle as though he'd just picked up a championship belt, throwing his arms into the air triumphantly. One week ago he said he'd finished with fighting, tonight his wrestling rules had backed up that statement. Winner: Jeff Garvin via Pinfall
What you didn't see last week I. "So, we did it!" Lucinda squealed, reiterating the same point for the umpteenth time. It was just too big a shock for her, and completely unpreceedented. Karen sat there, on the sofa, smiling thinly. It was good to be back in the confines of an arena that housed the weekly shennanigans of theAsylum, which rivalled the twist and turns of her own life. Of course, the last few weeks haven't been fun... but she was now learning to deal with everything, effectively. Or close to it. But at Turmoil, The Lassie did something even she didn't foresee herself doing. Ripping out the mask of Mercy. One of the big secrets of tA was finally exposed, but the fans didn't really feel fulfilled, after seeing the real Mercy. Maybe it was due to the fact that she fled seconds after being exposed, and most people didn't get too good a glance. In any case, Mercy was missing now. In hibernation. She'd been found out, but perhaps, there was still hope? "Aye. The mystery's been exposed, and the little game is over. Sad, though. I was bleeding looking forward to fighting her, just the two of us. Ye know, just to see who's better. Bloody hell, I didn't think the mask would mean so sodding much to her, that she'd disappear. Bah, doesn't matter now. We've got more pressing matters, I do believe. That twat, Poser, is still lurking around. And where the hell is McGarron? Wasn't he supposed to be here before us?" Lucinda got up from her seat and walked over to the mini-fridge, still smiling. She was more bubbly than usual, mainly because she'd started this crusade against Mercy a long time ago. Scott remembered how much the mask intrigued her, and if she had the chance to actually unmask the enigmatic Mercy... it would be rather exciting. Almost like a drug. "Don't you remember? Eddie & McGarron agreed to a pie-eating contest today. Winner takes all... the pies. Loser gets the hell out of tA. I don't know if it's even started or whatever, but I assume we'll get a call soon. Don't worry about it, I know Eddie. He can't beat Fatts in a pie-eating contest, that's for sure." Taking out a can of Ginger Ale from the fridge, Lucinda was pleased that she didn't have to waste any change on the vending machine. She'd made it a point to haggle the backstage officials, however stoned they were under the influence of Campbell's wondeful stash, that her locker-room would have a fridge. Opening the can, she noticed something on top of the fridge. Like... an envelope. "You know quite a bit about Eddie, don't ye? I suspect you might have a yearning for the boy. I just can't bloody imagine why, he's dumber than a brick..." Karen remarked, reaching over to her bag and pulling out a white t-shirt. Not that she was naked or anything. But the Lassie's dressing was far too exquisite for her to consider even marching down to the cage in, seeing how she had a fight with Hank Earl Hoskins later. But Pembridge was somewhat pertubed, as she stared at her t-shirt. She hadn't exactly been involved in fights over the last few weeks. Maybe she herself didn't feel like dishing out some pain... but now, Karen was wondering why she was in a rut, as far as her career was concerned. It probably had to do with the company she was involved with, she reckoned. Realising that Lucinda hadn't answered her question yet, Karen snapped herself out of her mini-trance and shot a glance at Lucy, who seemed to be rather stoned at the moment. Her can of Ginger Ale was on the floor, the contents of which had exploded and started to cover the floor... while Lucy stared at something. "What's wrong?" Lucinda turned around, no longer bubbly. Instead, she was concerned... and even appeared to be a little frightened. She passed the contents of the envelope she found, which was -- not surprisingly -- a letter. Addressed to both Lucinda & The Lassie, no less. "Karen, Mercy, how are you two doing? Blah blah, you did something you shouldn't have by touching the mask. Blah blah, FIGHTH3LL will be the night on which I slaughter the two of you, blah blah blah. The fat friend of yours, as you're reading this, is lying in an alley somewhere in downtown, having gotten the shit beaten out of him. Blah blah, if you want to see him survive, you'd better hurry. Blah blah, Eddie's eager to slaughter someone as well. Blah blah. Blah blah. Blah blah blah. If you're up for it, we could end it at FIGHTH3LL. Tag-Team Fight, under Tornado Rules. Blah blah." Karen stared at the paper she'd just read from, stunned. She crushed it and looked up at Lucinda, who'd already grabbed her jacket and her car-keys. The girl from Manchester sighed as she shot up from the sofa and begrudingly, unknown to Lucy, followed suit. The situation was spinning completely out of control.
The sad goodbye. It didn't get much bigger than Fight Hell. No, this was Asylum's grand stage, it's sensational show that everyone looked forward to. For the last eleven months, even cHEESE and egg NOG, the infamous Legion of Dairy, had this date marked on their calendar. It was the one show everyone wanted to be a part of. If you were only going to have one incredible match in your Asylum career, this was the show you would have it at. This would make careers and it would break them. Tonight would be no different. With cHEESE and egg NOG slowly regaining "pop" status back on the wrestling circuit, all focus with the Asylum slowly faded away. It finally boiled to the point that the Legion had officially decided they wanted nothing to do with the Asylum. Ever again. With all focus back on wrestling, the two never really put much thought into officially quitting the Asylum. Until they caught wind of the third-annual Fight Hell and decided that would be their chance. With Campbell being drawn into his asinine wadger with Kellen Kinkade, it would be easy pickings to get their release from the company. So the two set in motion, ready to rid themselves of the Hell that was the Asylum. Joe sat quietly at his desk. His mind racing over a thousand thoughts, each more important than the last. He tapped a pen in his hand gently against his desk, the "plick" it made was the only thing that could be heard. Until the handle on the door began to stir, ripping Campbell from his trance and making him wonder who it could be. As the door flew open, his questions were answered, he sighed as egg NOG led cHEESE into the room. The two came to a step only a few feet into the room. "Boys!" Joe bellowed, his arms raised his side as a greeting of sorts. "I was wondering when you cunts were comin' back!" egg NOG's blank stare shifted to a cold frown. His right hand rubbing his left in a soothing motion. Campbell, somewhat surprised by the usually happy duo, motioned to a pair of chairs in front of his desk. "Sit the fuck down, boys." NOG shook his head. "No." He said with a mumble. Joe looked shocked, did he just tell Joe Campbell "No"? Did Joe just hear correctly? "I'm sorry, what the fuck was that?" Joe asked, his hand cupped behind his hear. "No." egg NOG repeated, this time louder than before. "No need. We won't be here long." "That so?" Joe dumbfoundedly asked. "What makes you say that, cunt? "We're out." egg NOG informed Mr. Campbell. "So you've finally come out, have ya? Fucking great to hear. I always thought you were a little too close for 'brothers'." Joe joked with a small chuckle. cHEESE snarled, "He means we're out of our contracts. We're done with the Asylum." "That so? And who the fuck told you this?" egg NOG tilted his head back, "I told myself this." "So, what, you're Dirty -fucking- Harry? You tryin' to make me shit my britches to let you go?" egg NOG glanced to cHEESE, it wasn't going like they'd planned. "Fack fucking chance." Joe continued, "You're done when I say you're done. Never before." "You may think that." cHEESE interrupted, drawing the attention of Campbell. "But you really think we'll show? Sure, you could send one of your goonies after us. All's grand, right? Wrong. Someone's bound to know we're gone. And I'm willing to be that even you couldn't cover your trails for that little mess." Joe smiled and nodded. "You're absolutely right. I couldn't." See, Joe was covering his ass. cHEESE made a valid point, someone would know. Rather than let them walk all over him, he was taking his own path. "Here's what I propose. I'm going to get one, last fight out of you. You win, you're free to go. You lose... and you will, you're stuck in the Asylum for as long as I fucking say, deal?" Joe leaned forward, resting his chin on clasped hands, and winked to the Legion. cHEESE looked to egg NOG and egg NOG to cHEESE. They turned back to Joe and nodded. "Good. Off with ya, then. I've got a fucking pay-per-view to run." cHEESE and egg NOG backed out of the office, one final fight to get ready for. Or was it?
Just a couple minutes ago, Inmate had been summoned by Campbell. Inmate figured he’d heard about his involvement with the BWF and was going to shoot him, or do some other crazy fucked up thing. But Joe hadn’t. In fact, he’d told Inmate that he was very fucking disappointed that Inmate’s been to much of a pussy of late to deal with what had happened with Nurse. So Joe told Inmate to go get his fucking gear on and get ready, because he was going to handle it, like only Campbell could. In a fight to take place next, that neither fighter knew about until now. Cue twenty minutes later, and cue... “Davidian” by Machine Head Tommy Gunn walked out to a response from the crowd that hadn’t pleased him at all. No wonder. They had no fucking idea why he was coming out here. This hadn’t been announced, and listening to an interview from Tommy Gunn, wasn’t exactly what they had come here for tonight. Like him or not, had nothing to do with it, they just didn‘t see the point in his entrance yet. Tommy Gunn thought. He a specific reason for being out here now. To fight. He stood, no doubt ready for the intensity that was to come. The intensity that only a pissed off Inmate could bring. From the unconcerned look in Gunns eyes though, he’s ready to give Inmate the same thing he gave Nurse a while back, whether Inmate’s feeling pissed off or not, and that thing is... The Glasgow Kiss. Only this time, he plans on picking a target before delivering the move, because tonight, he plans on making his return to Asylum as of late, a lot more credible than it has been. But will he even come close to getting that chance. ...and I’m a
black rainbow "Disposable Teens" by Marilyn Manson, and ‘the Inmate’ Tyler Burton. Both bringing the crowd to cheers. The prospect of Gunn on the mic had the fans waiting for more. The sound of this music, delivered it. Burton on the hunt for revenge seemed always present during his time in Asylum. but tonight it wasn’t revenge for himself.. it was on behalf of Nurse, and the fans knew it. As he walked to the cage, pulled off his shirt, and stepped through the door, even the fans could see he had his target set just like Gunn did. Only his target, wasn’t a move to be delivered. It was several. All full of rage. The music stopped and the fighting was on. Both men tearing into each other. Vicious attempts at blows from each fighter, landed as hoped. And it was only seconds before Gunn was on his back against the steel mesh, trying to fight Inmate from a very weak position. The more he tried though, the more Inmate took advantage. Gunn blocked the left side of his face, and Inmate punched him hard in the ribs. Gunn dropped his upper body down to block those, and Inmate planted an elbow directly onto the top of Gunns head. This was going to end quick. It was nearly over as the fans saw it. But this was the Asylum. And Inmate obviously hadn’t planned Gunns pain to end this quick. He pushed back onto his knees, and delivered a blow to the right forearm of Gunn. A dumb move maybe, but judging by how quickly Gunns hand sprung open when his forearm had been hit, Inmate knew the damage intended had been done. Inmate backed off, just as the refs hand pulled him back by the shoulder. No doubt the ref was willing to start the count as Gunn lay gasping for air, and grasping at him right arm and head. But the ref should’ve seen what his actions would bring, as Inmate instinctively grabbed the refs wrist and back elbowed him in the face. Just like that the ref had been eliminated from the game. And not in some fuckin’ Earl Hebner fashion either. This guys head snapped back so fast, the backstage crew were already getting the reply set up, to show to the viewers at home. Inmate then waited as Gunn turned on his side, then to his hands and knees, and then he delivered a kick to the nuts from behind. Gunn wants to hope he already had some bastard children running around, or else he’ll be growing old without any kids there to pay for his retirement home. IF he makes it that long. Crack. A punch to the face. Inmate grabbed his hair. Smack. Knee to the face. Blood from the side of Gunns mouth. Punch to the kidneys. Gunn couldn’t even get off the mat to defend himself. That quickly changed though. As Inmate showed why he’s the original suplex machine here in Asylum. Using a belly to back suplex, Inmate powered Gunn off the mat and over his head, through the air, and not quite out of the cage, but certainly into it. The mesh buckled outward, no doubt ready to let go. But unfortunately for Gunn it held. And that was it, Inmate was the only one left conscious in the ring. Inmate looked down at both, and smiled. He’d done what he come for. Gunn would probably come back to haunt him for this embarrassment, but he didn’t give a shit. He’d humiliated Gunn, and that’s all needed be done for now. In fact, his attention wasn’t even on Gunn or the ref now. It seemed to be on someone in the audience. Inmate seemed preoccupied, but preoccupied enough to miss the chance of spitting on Gunn before he jumped out of the cage, and with the fans cheering, headed into the crowd. Where was he going? Who had sparked his interest in the crowd? Keep reading and you’ll find out. Winner: Tommy Gunn via Ringout
The familiar
sounds of Biohazard's "Sellout" echoed from the speakers. The
Qualcomm crowd rose to their feet and did something no other soul had
done before to the Legion of Dairy. They booed them. It wasn't a mild,
unsure boo, it was the bellowed boos of hatred. Boos that pierced the
heart of a man and shattered it in a million pieces. The fans were angry
with the Legion's betrayal, and they were going to make sure that the
Duo from Dairytown knew this. cHEESE flipped Matthew off his body, sliding a few inches on the thick canvas before Karst kipped back to his feet. Before Karst could take advantage of the open cHEESE, he sprang to his feet and was ready for any attack from the youthful aggressor. Meanwhile, egg NOG and Banderas held back, amazed at the event unfolding before them. It was only a matter of seconds before Bandy and NOG began trading shots in the middle of the Asylum as their partners were circling each other off to the side. Karst jumped at cHEESE again, but the veteran was ready this time, he side-stepped the attack and placed an elbow in the back of Matthew's head as he passed. Karst feel to the canvas, his hands holding the back of his head. The rookie was quickly realizing that he would need to rethink his offensive strategy if he was going to one-up cHEESE. Meanwhile egg NOG and Bandy continued to exchange punches in the middle of the cage, the two already looked to be as tired as Lennox Lewis and Vitali Klitschko. Banderas threw a week right that egg NOG easily blocked, countering with a right uppercut. Bandy was phased by the blow, but only momentarily, he returned with a left this time. Blocked again and followed by a knee to the stomach that doubled the Columbian over. egg NOG was on top of his game as he drove Banderas' head into the mat with a stiff DDT, quickly rolling his body over and locking in an armbar. Banderas cried out in pain as a smug egg NOG did everything in his power to make the hold as painful as possible. Karst could easily come to the aid of his mentor, if not for the fact that he had problems of his own in the form of a five-foot-eleven-inch submission wrestler. Karst had already fallen victim to a succession of Japanese arm drags that had the fighting purist calling for the head of cHEESE. Chants of "PUS-SY! PUS-SY!" sprang up throughout the stadium, only to make cHEESE that much more hostile. As the inexperienced Karst charged at the God of Wrestling, cHEESE hooked his arm under Karst's and went for a hip toss. Matthew, on the other hand, had other ideas as he flipped over and landed flat on his feet, much to the astonishment of cHEESE. Karst was rather quick, driving his leg in the side of cHEESE's head with an impressive hook kick. cHEESE stumbled back, bumping into the rim of the Asylum and nearly falling. He used every ounce of strength he had to pull himself back into the Asylum, Karst raced up and leveled the God of Wrestling with a powerful clothesline that folded him up on the canvas. Bandy had managed to free himself from the armbar with a series of rolls that took all the tension off his arm. Matthew nodded to his mentor and the two set off with a plan, ready to prove that they were a true tag team and not to be taken lightly. As Bandy leveled a staggering egg NOG with another devastating clothesline, Karst was jumping on the rim of the Asylum. Banderas pulled NOG to his feet via his hair and turned his frame horizontal to the canvas, quickly dropping to a knee, and thusly, driving egg NOG's back into a raised knee. As the Columbian held NOGgers over his knee, Matthew measured his victim, jumping from the fence and onto the exposed throat of egg NOG with a leg drop. NOG's head hit hard against the canvas and Banderas rolled him over and made a solid cover. However, this was the Asylum, such a thing did not exist in this world. The pinfall attempt was broken up as the God of Wrestling slash Fighting drove his boots into the face of Banderas. Bandy immediately rolled away, cringing in pain as cHEESE sprang to his feet and turn his attention to the rookie, Matthew Karst. The angry rookie attempted to steamroll the veteran, but cHEESE wrapped his arms around the charging Karst and drove him into the mat with a momentum-aided spinebuster. cHEESE rolled off the body of Karst, allowing the official to make the fist count of the match. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. That would be as far as the count would go, all four combatants were standing now. Each of them now engaged in a stare-down as they started to circle the cage. Fans' chants of "BOR-RING! BOR-RING!" seemed to fall on deaf ears, each team looking hell-bent on one-upping the other. Karst would be the first to attack, taking egg NOG out with a spinning heel kick. egg NOG was quickly back on his feet, but right back down as he fell prey to a well-placed elbow to the forehead. NOG would try to get up once again, but Karst had other plans, wrapping his arm around NOG's head and slamming it against the mat with a bulldog. cHEESE and Bandy had locked-up in the middle of the Asylum, each man trying to overpower the other. The Columbian's size played in his favor as he shoved cHEESE down to the canvas, it did little to keep cHEESE down as he raced back toward Banderas. *THWACK* And unknowingly right into the boot of Matthew Karst. cHEESE landed awkwardly on his neck, causing everyone viewing the match to gasp in horror. As cHEESE lay on his stomach, the team of The Enlightened looked to each other for answers. None came, but a right cross from egg NOG did, and down went Banderas. Karst was on the receiving end of a well-placed boot to the stomach and another DDT. egg NOG shoved the body of Matthew Karst away from him, shifting all his attention to the well-being of cHEESE. NOG kneeled over his brother's lifeless body as he leaned in next to his head, whispering into his ear. With all of egg NOG's attention away from the match, it was ample time for Bandy and Matthew to recover and attack the defenseless Legion of Dairy. Karst laid into egg NOG with a echoing kick to the ribs. egg NOG was sent airborne, twisting in midair and landing hard on the canvas. "FUCK!" He roared as he clutched his ribs, "I think you broke my FUCKING ribs!!" Karst was suddenly overwhelmed with concern. He'd unintentionally caused serious harm to the Legion, and now he didn't know what to do. Bandy hovered over cHEESE, scratching his head as his mind raced for an answer. He knelt down, gently tapping cHEESE on the back. He spoke softly, "Getting up, 'kay?" He bit his lip as he looked to Matthew, who could only shrug to his mentor. Bandy leaned in close, similar to what egg NOG had done moments before. "Please getting up?" Bandy could only see the back of cHEESE's head, had he been able to see the other side, he would have seen the twisted smile of the God of Wrestling slash Fighting. If Bandy wasn't so worried about cHEESE, he would have seen cHEESE's arm slowly inch off the canvas. If Bandy wasn't so worried about cHEESE, he would have see the elbow that slammed into his nose. No, I'm sorry, he did. Tears mixed with blood as Bandy fell back, screaming in pain as he held his nose. His legs flailed about in a panic as he tried to assess the damage to his nose. Not broken, but it sure wasn't going to tickle in the morning. As Bandy tried to stop the bleeding, cHEESE pushed himself up off the mat, egg NOG joined him as he regaining a vertical base. The two turned to Karst, who didn't know what to do. He tried a move that had found success early in the match. The clothesline. His attempted double clothesline fell very short as he was caught by the Duo from Dairytown. And ten points to the guy that saw the Sellout coming. Matthew was slammed into the canvas with great force, his body bouncing on impact. egg NOG pulled the rookie to his feet and walked him to the rim, tossing him over the top and out to the floor with ease. The crowd exploded with boos over the piss-poor match. The bell cried out with three dings as "Sellout" hit once again, only to be drowned out by fans screaming "YOU SUCK DICK! YOU SUCK DICK! YOU SUCK DICK!" The Legion of Dairy were now free from the Asylum. And not a moment too soon, it would seem. Winners: Legion of Dairy via Ringout
What you didn't see last week II. The screech of the car, before the sound of its engine going dead. Having parked, Lucinda & Karen exited the car, not caring how haphazard the former's parking was. There was little time to waste, and definitely none to spare. Lucy wanted to save Fatts, The British Lassie wished to not miss her match with Hank Earl Hoskins. Running down the block, Karen kept glancing at her watch, shaking her head. She didn't understand why they were rushing, neither Mercy nor Eddie were gonna risk killing Fatts. The reprecaussions that would arise were endless, and that would leave the newly-formed duo with a ton of problems. "Down here!" Lucy remarked in between pants, pointing at an alley they were approaching. With the Manchester girl leading the way, she surged forward, making a sharp right turn into the alley. Narrow and long, but it wasn't such a big deal for Karen. Sure, it might have been night time, but she could handle herself. Lucinda, on the other hand, was starting to feel that something was amiss. Progressing down the alley, and getting themselves wet courtesy of a few puddles, it was Lucy who first spotted Fatts. Sprawled out on the ground, lifeless. Evidence to suggest that the aforementioned pie-eating contest did materialise, in the form of cream all over McGarron's face. However, it was mixed with blood, supporting Mercy's claim that Fatts had been taken out. Approaching the body of their slave, however, Karen & Lucy found themselves in rear chokeholds. "Hello, ladies." The distinctive voice of Mercy, who was the one choking Karen. Eddie, on the other hand, had Lucinda in his grip. This was exactly what it looked to be; a sneaky set-up. Lucy's cursed under her breath, while the Lassie played it cool, not wanting to struggle and cause herself to choke. "You see, playing with my mask did nothing. Except to infuritate me. Now, it has come down to this. Unless, of course, you ladies are so kind as to accept my offer for a fight at FIGHTH3LL? You love to fight, don't you, Karen? You were looking to fight tonight, weren't you? Don't worry about Hank, he's been informed of you having prior engagements. He's happily gone off to drink himself silly. But the matter in question now is us, and FIGHTH3LL. I want payback, and doing it in this alley isn't quite the most honourable thing to do. So, do you accept?" Karen shot Lucy a glance, before nodding, to indicate she did. Mercy smiled, before motioning to the King Of Poland to release Lucinda. Frowning slightly, to imply his reluctance, Eddie relinquised his grip on Scott... before ramming his forearm over her head, instantly knocking Lucinda out. "Bloody faggot," Karen muttered, aiming it at Poser. But that would be the last word she would say for the night, as Mercy rammed her left forearm into the back of the Lassie's head, bringing about another instant knockout. Karen & Lucinda now lay on the ground, face down, unconscious, with their slave/bodyguard too lifeless. The job done, Mercy & the King Of Poland walked away. FIGHTH3LL beckoned.
“Bury Me” by (hed)
P.E. hit the PA system to a rousing score of jeers from the crowd. August Monday
stepped through the curtains wielding a Singapore cane and a scowl on his face.
The people hated him for even attempting to work with Joe Campbell to screw
Token Weed out of the finals of the Fight H3ll qualifier. He was a dirty ass
kisser who would do anything to get to the top of the business, and tonight they
wanted to see him have his ass handed to him.
August Monday walked into
the Asylum and glared out at the jeering crowd before laughing to himself and
awaiting the arrival of the man whom claimed he could rarely, if ever, feel
pain.
The two had begun their
argument at tA’s last Pay Per View, Turmoil, when August Monday heard Trevor
Calver AKA The Bizarre Kid, brag about how little pain he felt. Monday broke a
beer bottle over his head and it led to this match in which August had promised
to “research” the topic for tA’s benefit.
“Hate Me Now” by Nas
and P. Diddy hit the PA system as one of the newest acquisitions on tA’s
roster, The Bizarre Kid, stepped through the curtains with a huge grin on his
face. He spun around in a circle, showing his chiselled physique, before
standing in the middle of the aisle way and reaching into his back pocket and
pulling out a microphone.
“Let me tell you mental
midgets something,” he began to some cheap heat from the crowd. “I’m not
out here to beat this uneducated piece of trailer trash into oblivion, oh no,
I’m out here to pick up my first victory in tA, and it’s NOT for the
crowd’s enjoyment, this is for my own.”
The crowd began to jeer
The Bizarre Kid rather loudly as he laughed to himself.
“Now it’s time to
bring out my loyal servant, butler, and confidant. He’s ten times better than
any old illegal immigrant you can get to work for you after they just hopped a
border, or fit their entire family into the back of a truck to get here. This
man is from a place that’s posh, and a place that’s dignified. Please
welcome, JEFFERY DUNCAN!”
“Hate Me Now” hit over
the PA system for a second time in the evening as Jeffery Duncan, a middle-aged
white male in a black butler’s suit appeared. He pushed a cart full of
weaponry that would make the American military blush. Steel chairs, Singapore
canes, rolls of barb wire, trash cans, and cookie sheets were just some of many
things in the cart.
The Bizarre Kid walked
back towards Jeffery and snatched a Singapore cane out of the cart before
allowing his butler to continue pushing the thing.
When the Bizarre Kid and
Jeffery Duncan reached the cage side area, the Bizarre Kid told Jeffery to stop.
When Jeffery did, the Bizarre Kid stepped through the cage door as it was
slammed behind him.
The Bizarre Kid looked
across the ring to August Monday, who also held a Singapore cane. The bell rang
and the two of them began to circle one another.
The Bizarre Kid was the
first to swing his Singapore cane. He swung wildly, narrowly missing the head of
August Monday. The Bizarre Kid laughed at August Monday’s dodging being hit
before “the Raging Fear” lifted his middle finger to show the Bizarre Kid
what he thought of him.
After a few more seconds
of circling with neither deciding to make a serious first move, August Monday
threw his Singapore cane down and screamed at the Bizarre Kid, “LET’S FIGHT
LIKE REAL MEN!”
The crowd popped at this
action, not because they liked August Monday, but because they were finally
going to see some action as opposed to the pussyfooting the two had been doing
for a few minutes now.
The Bizarre Kid looked
around at the crowd, listening to their reaction. When he turned around, he
swung his Singapore cane and nailed a surprised August Monday square in the
forehead. The crowd jeered the cheap shot as August Monday stumbled backwards
towards the mesh fencing. The Bizarre Kid went on the offensive again, wielding
his cane like a sword and nailing August Monday in the face with a baseball bat
like swing.
August Monday held his
face in pain, leaving his midsection wide open to another shot from the Bizarre
Kid. As Monday groaned in pain and held his ribs, the Bizarre Kid smiled and
showboated for a few seconds before bringing the cane down hard across
Monday’s back.
With Monday on his back,
and the cane in his hands nearly shattered to pieces, the Bizarre Kid screamed
at Jeffery Duncan to toss him a new weapon. Duncan reached into the cart of
weapons and pulled out a steel chair. Jeffery dropped the chair over the top of
the cage as the Bizarre Kid chucked the Singapore cane to the ground and pursued
his new weapon of choice.
As the Bizarre Kid bent
down to pick up the chair, he received a brutal cane shot to his back by August
Monday. Monday had picked up the nearly destroyed cane and hit the Kid with it.
The Bizarre Kid lay on the
mat, holding his back as August Monday mounted him and began to rain down the
right hands onto his face. The crowd didn’t really know how to react to the
sheer and utter mayhem going on in the ring as August Monday continued his
assault with alternating left and right hooks to the face.
When he was tired from
punching, August Monday let up and got to his feet. He felt a trickle of blood
drop down his forehead as the Bizarre Kid used the cage to help himself to his
feet. When the Bizarre Kid faced August Monday, he looked like Tina Turner on
her wedding night. His face was bloodied and battered and he looked disoriented.
August Monday ran at the
Bizarre Kid and took him down with a vicious lariat that caused the Kid to hit
the mat with a thud. As soon as the Bizarre Kid hit the canvas, August Monday
walked over and picked up the steel chair that the Bizarre Kid had handed to him
earlier by his butler.
August Monday waited as
the referee counted the Bizarre Kid out.
1!
2!
3!
4!
5!
6...
The Bizarre Kid was on his
knees his face awash in crimson.
August Monday smiled
before rearing back and absolutely baptizing The Bizarre Kid with a chairshot.
He got down on his knees and leant into the Bizarre Kid's face and he
whispered...
"Scream for me!"
August wrapped his hands
around the throat of the Bizarre Kid and got up onto his feet, raising the
Bizarre Kid high into the air, letting his feet dangle above the ground. August
shook him.
"FEAR ME!" he
roared at the top of his voice.
The fans popped. They
didn't really care for the Portland Powerhouse, he was fun to boo. But his was
better to cheer at when he was getting violent.
August threw him to the
canvas and lifted one of Calver's legs into the air, he began to punch him in
the thigh, trying to seize it up and make it cramp. Duncan was watching and
grimacing as the Raging Fear pounded his fist hard into the fleshy muscle of
Trevor Calver thigh.
He let the leg drop and he
made his way to the chair he dropped to the ground earlier. Monday placed the
chair over the face of the Bizarre Kid and stood over his face. He jumped into
the air and landed on the chair with both knees!
A standing Rage from
Above.
The fans cheered as August
got up off his knees, the chair still over the Bizarre Kid's face. August lifted
it up to see the mess he made. He cringed as he looked at the crimson masked
Bizarre Kid.
August grabbed a chunk of
his hair and lifted him to his feet. August drove a knee into his midsection and
tucked his head between his legs. It was time for a wrestling move.
And CRUNCH!
The fans shuddered as the
Portland Powerhouse drove the Bizarre Kid into the canvas with a pulling sitdown
piledriver. The Kid was laying there for a while as Augie just sat there looking
around at the fans who were half-booing and half-cheering.
August stomped on the
spine of Bizarre Kid as he made his way across the Asylum to get himself a chair
to end this thing finally.
He stands there, just
prowling his opponent as he staggers onto his feet. The Bizarre Kid staggered
around the ring for a while as the suspense of Augie driving that chair into the
head of him was getting to the fans. They grew louder and louder as he stood
back with the chair ready to strike.
Calver had his back turned
to August and he slowly turned around, but he was well ahead of August. As Augie
brought the chair down hard...
CRACK!
SUPERKICK TO THE CHAIR!
The chair shot off the end
of Bizarre Kid's foot and into August's head. It cracked him hard in the face,
knocking him back onto the canvas. Bizarre Kid swung into action.
He gave a whistle to
Jeffery Duncan and the weapons began to flow.
A steel chair.
CRACK!
Stop sign.
CRACK!
Weapon after weapon, the
Bizarre Kid was smashing August Monday up with them. Busting everything he could
get his hands over Augie's body. August just covered his face, more clutched it
from Calver's superkick, as he was taking the brutality.
He had no choice but take
it.
The Bizarre Kid had a
trash can thrown into him. He got Augie to his feet, driving his knee hard into
his midsection before he slammed the can over August's head. He grabbed himself
a steel chair and he wound up for a big shot to the Portland Powerhouse.
CLANG!
He hit the trash can with
the chair, August staggered backward. He lost his balance and began to pick up
speed. The Bizarre Kid charged up and with the slightest bit of power and using
all of August's momentum, he simply tossed him out of the Asylum.
August fell to the ground
beside the Asylum and the landed presumably face first.
Staying down within the
crumpled trash can for the ten count August lay motionless. The Bizarre Kid had won
this battle.
August Monday was left
with his sorrows and his second loss in the Asylum. Winner: Bizarre Kid via Knockout
Last minute rule change. Michael D’Alessandro for once in his life strode with a step with a dash that showed some type of joy. For some reason he was Siamese twined with John C. Willis with all his adventures, and a certain amount of stupidity began to wear him down, but now not, not today, nothing would change that. He just had to make one thing clear with Campbell. He opened the office door of Joe Campbell, and as the two locked eyes, and immediately Joe sighed.. “What the fuck do you want?” In his custom made two piece suit, Michael D’Alessandro strode up to Joe’s desk and put his hand down on it, and leaned, “Campbell.. I want one thing. I know you don’t like us, but we don’t want anything to happen like last time. No ring-outs Joe, that’s what we want for this. And you bloody know we deserve it.” “Fine, I don’t sodding care, I have more on my fucken plate than two fucks who don’t draw, and you’re fucken bollocks strutting in here asking for my damned self to fucken make rules. You’re shite, get out my of my office.” Michael D’Alessandro grumbled as his hand clamped, his joy sucked from him. As he glared angrily at Campbell, he shoved his hands back into his pockets. He was ready to tell him what happened to Sebastian, but he assumed that that would just have to wait and see for himself.
They were supposed to be a team. They were supposed to get along well. The two men were expected to be thrown together and immediately attach to one another like Velcro on children’s sneakers. Joe Campbell would look like a genius for taking two guys and spontaneously forming a powerhouse of a team out of them, when the idea jumped into his head from the long neck of his bottle of Guinness he patted himself on the back as he said quietly to himself.. “Sebastian Thompson and John C. Willis, will be the Asylum team champs.” With the next swill of the alcoholic beverage, the statement was scrubbed from his mind, and apparently the case that followed took away the chance of it working. Just like the majority of drunken statements made, but unlike most, the thought stuck with Campbell and he ran through with the process. And like when dirt touches pool chemicals, things exploded.. Within seconds Willis was at Thompson’s throat and vice versa, and to follow that they had to team. Willis screwed Thompson, then the next event, Thompson flipped the script while inversing the prior scenario. Twice Willis and friend Michael D’Alessandro invaded Sebastian’s private domain, each time stealing something of his, only once did what they steal get to Campbell. But for that one successful theft went through, there was also the one time they lost to Sebastian via ring out. Now with Thompson no longer affiliated with Carnage, Willis and D’Alessandro did the only thing left for them to do, sneak attacked Thompson. They heard rumors creeping through the pores of the locker room, as if by osmosis, about the reformation of Campbell’s personal guild, D’Alessandro knew in an instant that the only way to find themselves in the inner sanctum, of the rumored party, was through Phoenix.. Through Sebastian Thompson. “Here Comes the Pain,” by Slayer blared over the PA system, with the highlight reel of Willis playing over the Asylumtron, the strobe lights flashed around the entrance way, but there was no John C. headed down the ramp, no nothing, and the music concluded. The crowd booed loudly as no one emerged through the entrance way… “Here Comes the Pain,” by Slayer struck again as if it was the impatient pitter patter of a mother’s foot waiting for a child to do as they call, as well as warning the impending punishment for failure to follow. The crowd’s boos drained out the Slayer song, until Michael D’Alessandro emerged from the backstage, he began walking down the ramp, but the Wise Guy turned around half way around and made his way back the crowds boos multiplied. But before the song concluded for the second time, D’Alessandro emerge yet again from the back this time walking down to the ring with a Cheshire cat grin, and slowly the crowd understood why, as John C. Willis walked up following Michael D’s lead.. Dragging a bloody body behind him. Instantly the word passed around the crowd from those with ramp-side seats, the bloody man was Sebastian Thompson. And once that thought got through to the crowd, they cheered loudly. Willis lifted Thompson’s bloody body over his head and tossed him into the cage, and followed in himself. No introductions were needed Thompson wasn’t moving, the ref did the one thing he could… he counted.. 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10..?! The quickest match in the Asylum history?! Thompson broke the infamous El Janito record?!~ No! Sebastian sat up holding his ribcage, as he coughed out blood violently, as he inhaled, it felt like his ribs were individual fingers that danced over the harp that was his internal organs. He groaned as he slowly yanked himself to his feet. Willis looked over to the screaming D’Alessandro, “You fucking louse, you said the sodding bastard was dead!” All Willis could do was shrug as he returned his focus to Thompson. Who was still violently coughing as he clung to the cage wall to hold himself up, as he leaned his upper body against the rim. Painfully questioning himself whether or not this was somehow tied to his ring out victory over Willis two months prior. Willis went up and nailed a right cross to the face of the unsuspecting Thompson knocking him out of his grasp of the wall, causing him to stumble backwards, stopping Willis stood still and charged forward.. SPEAR~! Claret showered through the air as Sebastian was sent crashing down to the ground. The ref made a count, but this time before he could reach one, Thompson got back to his feet, gritting his teeth violently, loosening the molars in the back of his mouth. As his vision slowly cleared, he swung a wild fist that missed badly, John C. grasped Thompson’s head and head butted the Phoenix knocking him back a few steps, Willis followed up with a devastating boot to the midsection of Thompson doubling him over. John C. lifted him up and charged and landed a runner power slam that caused the ring to shake. The ref was back up and made his count.. 1... 2... Thompson pushed back up to his face easier this time than the last, and watched as Willis charged with a clothesline, grimacing, Thompson ducked under and dropkicked John C. Willis in the back sending him abdomen first hard into the rim. Thompson pushed himself slowly back to his feet and charged towards Willis, but by the time he got there he was nailed with a boot to the face leveling him. Willis brought Thompson back up to his feet, slowly lifting him in the air, John C’s attempt was stopped as he was hit in the face with a bloody glob of mucus. He stumbled back trying to scrape the slimy substance from his eye, as Thompson landed on his feet, and quickly dropped to his knees landing a harsh low blow! The crowd booed the move, as Willis a man who was already not the most available bachelor, had his percentage of having children lessened. Thompson screamed in pain as he forced himself up to his feet, he hooked onto John C. Willis’ head and fell back violently with a DDT! Only to take the brunt of the force down on his ribcage. Sebastian screamed out in pain, as he tried to get up to his feet, but before he could Willis was up on his feet first. John C. Willis Irish whipped Sebastian over as he hit the rim and spilled out to the arena floor! The crowd cheered and went crazy, while Michael D’Alessandro cursed loudly. He knew at that moment the match wasn’t over, he asked for it to be no ring-outs in case there was a fluke by Thompson to somehow win it, but some how the best laid plans fuck themselves hard in the ass. The well dressed D’Alessandro, went and grasped up a chair ready to finish things on his own, he charged with the chair, and swung down on Thompson, but received a boot upwards that sent the chair out of D’s hands. The feisty yet, dressed to the nines, D’Alessandro gripped Thompson’s brunet hair and yanked him upwards.. One Winged Angel Kiss! The crowd hissed in disgust, the same time Thompson hissed in agony stumbling back holding his chest. He spat out more blood, as he grasped D’Alessandro’s raven color hair, ruffling it’s neat style, and tossed him into the crowd… and followed him in! In one moment it felt as if the entire crowd became swollen around the one spot, they were the infection.. No Sebastian was the infection, and the white blood cells were attempting to kill it. A large fan grabbed him by the waist and began to focus pressure on him with a bear hug, but it, along with his nose was broken as Sebastian swung his head backwards. A skinny fan with wire rimmed glasses charged forward, but met filth as Thompson leveled him with a right punch to the face. He took short sharp breaths, as he tried to evaluate the situation behind him as he was shoved hard into the back and right into a clothesline from D’Alessandro. The mob that surrounded the two began to chant.. SEBASTIAN SUCKS! Repeatedly as Michael D’Alessandro pilled up a substantial amount of punches to the face of Sebastian, but it was cut off as Thompson began to choke the made man. Using his advantage in strength Thompson shoved D’Alessandro off. As he was on his feet, Thompson rocketed a violent boot to the side of D’Alessandro.. Right before he felt a pair of huge hands grab onto his shoulders, and toss him through the increasing gap between the fans. Apparently John C. Willis just figured out he hadn’t won the match. John C. gripped Thompson by the back of his jeans and hoisted him onto his shoulder, he walked through and now they were on the main concourse. A large group of people were standing waiting to be served at a fast food post, Willis forced his way through the crowd bumping into a fan who was leaving with two beers in his hand, but now both beers collapsed to the ground. “What the fuck?! You fucking bastard, you made me drop my beers..” Slowly the balding man looked up, and his brow wrinkled as his jaw dropped as he looked at John C. Willis, his tune changed immediately, “Uh.. Don’t worry about it buddy, I was just going to watch the match.. Nice seeing yah.” Darting off into the arena. Willis looked at the line in front of him, and felt Thompson fighting his grasp, Willis did the one thing a person who has a mass community of brain cells with halos could do.. Roar loudly. The crowd looked and ran as Willis charged forward and threw Thompson forward, right into the soft drink dispenser causing it to explode into fireworks of Hawaiian punch, Pepsi, 7-Up, and Dr. Pepper, as Sebastian’s body slumped to the growing pool of caffeine filled beverages. Painfully he was forcing himself up to his feet to see Willis running around through the door towards him, Sebastian jumped forward and wrapped his arms around Willis’ body using all his strength he pushed forward taking him hard to the ground. Pushing off of Willis body Thompson stood only to climb up onto the counter, he jumped off with a knee drop.. *CRASH/SPLASH* Pain and burning at the same time, as Thompson’s knee slammed hard onto the concrete floor splashing carbonated drink into the wounds he accumulated earlier. Willis brought Thompson up, and went to slam his head into the top of range, but Thompson fought it with all his might, but with all the strength Willis had he won out, Thompson slowly turned his head as he cringed and then he.. “AHHHH!!!” Screamed as his face was burning, as he looked across he watched as burgers burnt, the pain was so immense that he was almost ready to pass out, that was until mule kick! Willis was doubled over as Thompson pushed with all his might to free the burning side of his face, finally with a massive shove.. *RRRRIIIIPPP!!* He snapped the skin off of his face, he went to touch the wound, but automatically his hand jumped back as he cringed, he turned his head and watched as the piece of his facial skin sizzled on the range top. Blood poured over his exposed jaw muscle as he turned back to Willis who was now standing up completely, Thompson charged forward and with a primal scream landed a right to the face of Willis, then a left cross to the body. As Willis went to grab forward, Sebastian moved towards the beast of a man, and sunk his teeth down into his opponent’s flesh. The Indianan Idiot screamed in pain as he tried to force Thompson off, but the Phoenix didn’t stop until he tasted iron in his throat, as it washed down.. Reaching up Thompson grabbed onto Willis head and hit him hard with a jawbreaker! Thompson was back on his feet and had a handful of dirty dreadlocks and he shoved him onto and then off of the serving counter.. “Out of all the billions served, I bet that’s the first one like that,” Sebastian said as he jumped down off the counter. Thompson yanked Willis back to his feet and Irish Whipped the Indiana native hard into a beer stand sending the contents flying all over the place as the stand flopped sideways. Sebastian stood on the collapsed stand and grabbed onto Willis’ head and threw it between his legs, he went to lift, backbody drop by Willis. But the dumbfounded former tFZ champ never heard the splatter of Thompson hitting the ground, because the Phoenix tightly grasped Willis waist. John C. felt his enemy grabbing onto him, and he charged backwards to the fast food area they rampaged but at the last second Sebastian dropped down and tripped Willis sending the goliath falling to the floor. Sebastian was up and ready to slam a fist into Willis face, in an attempt to make him more attractive.. *CRACK~!!* Michael D’Alessandro wasn’t satisfied, as he swung down again and again and again into the injured ribs of Thompson. He yelled towards Willis ordering him to do a better job, and the beast obliged, sending his massive hand around the throat of Thompson, he lifted him and slammed his spine hard against the brick wall. After stalling, Willis yanked Thompson off the wall and choke slammed him hard through the already damaged beer stand. The ref stood behind and began to make the count.. 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... Sebastian was up, and the arena groaned, it was mind numbing to watch this plodding match. Willis grabbed and lead Thompson back into the arena, as they stepped foot in the arena Sebastian landed a back elbow to the midsection of Willis and for some unknown reason he took all his energy and hightailed it for the Asylum. The crowd was parted as Thompson jumped over the rim and back into the ring. He stood in the ring catching his breath as John C. Willis found his way back into the ring together, both men stood and faced each other and began to circle the ring, Willis still in almost perfect condition, while Thompson was only doing partly better than he was doing prior to the match. Thompson charged forward and nailed a right punch, only for Willis to reply with a right of his own. Thompson retorted with a left, Willis went with an overhand right which was ducked by Sebastian who nailed a violent uppercut to the jaw stagger the big man. Thompson charged back and jumped grabbing a hold of Willis’ head and went for a bulldog but Willis lifted and nailed a hefty side suplex! Thompson rolled up in the fetal position as a result of the manuever, was lying prone for another Willis attack, but instead of attacking the prone body Willis yanked up Sebastian and Pumphandle slam! *STAB!* “ARRRGGGHHH!!” Blood rushed down John C’s leg as he grasped at the shank that was stabbed into his inner thigh. Thompson got back to his feet, and rotated one full time.. CINDERS~! The crowd booed as he nailed the 360 Elbow Smash. Knocking the Zone member down onto his back, surely ending his hopes of the inner sanctum of Campbell employees. The count began, as Thompson leaned against the cage wall watching as for the first time in the match, Willis was down for the count.. 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... Eight?! Nope. Sebastian got smacked in the back of the head causing him to stumble forward into Willis’ grasp. Willis was setting up for a power bomb, but the bloody fool didn’t remove the shank, and Thompson grabbed and twisted with all his might, as he stabbed it further into the flesh of Willis the big man was brought down to half his size. Seb jumped through Willis’ legs and watched as D’Alessandro swung… But he caught it much to the crowd’s dismay and he yanked it out of D’Alessandro’s hand, grasped it tightly and swung it down hard as Ike hit Tina! Sebastian grabbed the chair by the middle sides and turned to Willis and jabbed the chair relentlessly up into the jaw of Willis repeatedly. Sebastian stopped, jumped and.. *SMACK!~* The crater of a dent bulged through the chair as Thompson yanked back. As Willis’ body dropped down to the mat. The official began to count… 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... Willis showed signs of getting up, but in a quick move, Thompson yanked the shank from Willis’ leg and began to press it into his throat, he talked silently in his ear, as the ref halted his count. Sebastian backed his head away from his opponent and looked deep into his eyes, “If you have anything to live for, I suggest you stay the fuck down.. I don’t have the time to waste to fuck with you. And if I kill you I’ll find all your relatives, last but not least.. I’ll find your Mother, and I’ll leave her heart on your grave site. Is that what you want?” Sebastian looked up at the ref, and ordered him to make the count, and slowly but surely it hit ten. “Jerk-off” blared over the speaker system as Sebastian slowly back his way up to the crowd, after getting another cheap victory over his nemesis. Willis lied on the ground stunned, he had never known his mother, only image he held of her was simply a picture, but even the thought of her being murdered was too much. So much that he sacrificed his chances for progressing in the Asylum, to save a person who he doesn’t even know is still alive. Winner: Sebastian Thompson via Knockout
Tornado Team Fight The war started months ago, in the most innocent manner. Well, it started in early April, when Karen Pembridge was approached by Lucinda Scott, regarding the formation of a group that would run the show. An army, to be more precise. To be built up over the months, and strengthened in all aspects as the days flew by. Eddie was the first 'recruit', but he was simply used a bellboy. Karen, however, would be the weapon of destruction. The first victim? Someone Lucinda found very interesting, during her months of carefully following the organisation. Researching. An enigma, she was labelled by most. Lucy simply figured she'd be the guinea pig to experiment upon. Mercy. So, at Conflict, Karen -- filled to the brim with propaganda regarding Mercy -- decided to test the waters. The main mystery at the heart of the interest was Mercy's mask. What was it hiding? Was Mercy scarred? Or hiding something? Was it even Mercy behind the mask? Nobody knew. Even Lucinda Scott, who knew a hell of a lot about Mercy, didn't know. Hence the experiment. And from there, the situation snowballed into something quite uncontrollable. Week after week, Karen & Mercy would get on each other's nerves, with Eddie Scott Poser & Fatts McGarron the two other factors in the equation. Finally, at Turmoil, it all climaxed. In the best way possible, if you were the British Lassie. She'd managed to do it. Karen ripped Mercy's mask off. It all added to the build-up of Freak/Kinkade, later on Turmoil. And it ended in theAsylum facing certain death. Joe Campbell crumbled when Kinkade won, and his beloved Asylum collapsed along with it. What ensued was two weeks of no activity, until Token Weed decided to resurrect theAsylum. A parallel was drawn, and Mercy decided that instead of pondering over the happenings of Turmoil, it was time to take things up a notch. She'd gotten soft, she felt. And that wasn't the Mercy the world had gotten to know. Some newbie by the name of Karen Pembridge was treading on her toes... and it spelled out one simple thing. Eradication. Hence, the reason we're at this juncture now. Tornado Team Fight. The rules of which, are fairly simple. All four fighters in the ring, ring-out rules exist at first. Once one fighter from each team has been eliminated, if that is indeed the case, knockout and submission rules will be able to be utilised as well. And with that, cue "Faultline" by Saliva, and the crowd's instantenuous jeering. Seconds later, Karen Pembridge and Fatts McGarron appeared from the back, walking down to the cage with vengeance of their own on the agenda. Especially for Fatts. This was the biggest stage he'd ever graced, and he wasn't about to fuck it up. Like he'd fucked up over the past couple of months. Karen too was determined to make an impact. Ever since the re-emergence of the Lassie in IOW, she'd been hailed as something truly extraordinary. But the battles in the IOW had worn her out, and by the time she'd actually found herself in theAsylum, her body was fatigued. She wasn't capable of giving a 110%, and the after-effects still existed. What she needed was a month of solid rest. But this was FIGHTH3LL. An event of massive proportions. Wearing a white t-shirt with short sleeves and white taekwondo pants made out of silk, Karen looked down at her bare feet. Bare, sans the white tape she'd just wrapped around each of her foot moments earlier. It made for easier execution of kicks, which would make 'em more effective. Fatts, on the other hand, was dressed to eat -- a black t-shirt, blue jeans, and sneakers. Not exactly fighting attire, but it didn't diminish the occasion. Lucinda Scott, however, was nowhere to be seen. Entering the cage, Karen & Fatts quickly had a discussion over how the fight would unfold, possibly, and what each of their roles entailed. The crowd already knew how it was going to go down -- Eddie & Fatts would fight in one corner, while Karen & Mercy battled each other for the main prize. It wasn't money, and no longer was it truly about ultimate revenge. Simply put, the prize was gaining the victory. "Bullets" by Creed blared over the speakers, seconds after Karen's theme was faded out. Following which, a loud round of cheers rang out in the arena, for the tandem that had first shown their true prowress at Turmoil. They were underhanded and sneaky. And despite the clash in styles, they could hold their own inside the cage. Eddie Scott Poser and Mercy. And yes, Mercy was wearing her mask, despite popular belief and desire. Poser, only wearing black jeans and boots, raced down the ramp with his arms in the air. He'd been through this before, and the occasion didn't really overawe him. He was simply delighted that the crowd were supporting him once again, which made him feel loved. Aiming to impress them, he pulled out a deck of cards from his pocket and threw it into the crowd. But as was the case at Conflict, he had forgotten to remove the cards from its casing, and the deck hit an old lady in the head. Vince McMahon, hidden right in front, stood up and shook his fist angrily, as the arena showed concern for the old lady Eddie had wiped out. "I'M VINCE MCMAHON, DAMMIT~! ARREST HIM! IF I GOT SUED BY SOME WHORE FOR THROWING MY CANE AT HER, THIS IDIOT SHOULD BE KILLED! HANG HIM! CRUSH HIM LIKE A COCKROACH! COME ONE! I'M VINCE MCMAHON, DAMMIT~! ARREST HIM, NOW, BEFORE I RIP OFF MY SHIRT AND SHOW OFF MY PYTHONS!" ... Needless to say, security moved in quickly and clocked McMahon with their batons, as the crowd returned their attention towards Mercy & Eddie Scott Poser. Mercy donned a black sleevless tanktop, black pants, and was also barefoot. A little psychology on the masked enigma's part, which seemed to work, as Karen Pembridge frowned. A large section of the crowd, with Mercy & Poser approaching the cage, were now chanting... urging Mercy to remove her mask. Probably, they had wanted a better look at Mercy, despite having seen her unmasked at Turmoil. But the masked enigma wasn't about to bother herself with the chants. There was the little matter of Karen Pembridge to take care of. And the second Mercy & the King Of Poland stepped into the cage, all hell broke loose. Fatts McGarron ran at Eddie and knocked him down to the mat with a clothesline, but Poser -- possibly having learnt a thing or two from Mercy -- kicked McGarron in the ankle, bringing the True Fat One down to the canvas. Eddie then rolled to his side and pushed himself up, allowing him to smother McGarron's back... and drive punches into his spine at the same time. Meanwhile, Karen had lunged at Mercy, aiming to score with a wild right swing. Mercy ducked, and nearly connected with a right jab of her own. Pembridge sidestepped to her right and looked to ram her left forearm into the face of the Masked Enigma. Mercy, however, blocked it with her own forearm. Before she unleashed a series of cross punches, with alternating hands, rocking Karen backwards. But as Mercy leaned back and let loose with a sidekick, Karen leaned back and ducked, and as she fall to the canvas, the girl from Manchester managed to connect with a tremendous uppercut, sending Mercy staggering backwards. A loud echo of jeers followed, but none could deny the skill involved in that. Pembridge swirled her way back up to her feet and smiled, advancing on Mercy, who charged forward with a clothesline in mind. Yet again, Karen evaded it, and quickly hooked her left arm with the falling right arm of Mercy's, before mustering all the strength in her body to lift Mercy in the air and slam her down to the canvas face-first, in a cross between a hiptoss and an armdrag. That wasn't the end of it, though; The British Lassie now used her left hand to grab a handful of Mercy's red hair, and expertly sent her flying into the steel-mesh of the cage. With one hand, it has to be emphasised. Over on the other side of the cage, Eddie had pulled Fatts up, and had began ramming forearms into the lower spine area. With each strike, McGarron cursed... before he finally lashed out with an reverse-elbow shot, stunning the King Of Poland. More was to come from the True Fat One, as he executed a discus punch, sending Poser stumbling back even more. Now, with momentum on his side, Fatts decided to put everything behind the knockout blow. He managed to get himself onto the rim of the cage... and showing great character, balanced himself expertly. Before taking flight, with some sort of reverse moonsault. Yes, you read correctly. He sommersaulted in the air and looked to land the moonsault. Somehow, Eddie Scott Poser caught him and managed to hold him up. The intention wasn't to show how strong the King Of Poland really was. Rather, it was to make some adjustments to the grip and such. For, Poser went on to drill McGarron with a vicious inverted piledriver! "HOLY
SHIT!" Back on the other side, Mercy was slowly rising up to her feet, her ribs having taken most of the damage from the crash into the mesh of the cage. She stumbled forward, gasping for air, as Karen Pembridge watched. Smiling. Waiting. Eager to inflict immense punishment upon the Masked Enigma. So, a knife-edged chop to her neck followed. Windpipe Smash, it was called. Then, a series of knee-smashes into Mercy's abdominals. The latter doubled over in pain. Giving the Lassie the perfect opportunity to score with a crunching side DDT. The crowd were enthralled thus far by the battle that was unfolding in the cage, but something that now caught their eyes was the fact that Eddie Scott Poser was trying to throw McGarron over the rim and out of the cage. An act that would eliminate the True Fat One from the fight. The King Of Poland -- a crazed X-Men & Buffy fan, it has to be added -- was finding it hard to eliminate McGarron, however. So, what happened next? Fatts scored big-time with a desperation mule kick, before he turned around and tossed Eddie out of the cage. Simple as that. What, you thought the two of them were gonna remain that way forever? ELIMINATED: Eddie Scott Poser Fatts raised his arms in the air, delighted at the good work he had done. Finally, some progress in his career. And this definitely did not look good for Mercy. Of course, if the True Fat One was to be eliminated by the man he had *just* eliminated, everything woulda been in vain, innit? Now, why do you think I mentioned that? Maybe because Poser reached back into the cage and tugged at McGarron's shirt, thus pulling him over the rim and crashing down to the concrete, out of the cage... and more importantly, out of the fight? ELIMINATED: Fatts McGarron The King Of Poland celebrated, admist the mammoth cheers that had broken out, and danced to the back. Not worried that Mercy was now all alone in the cage, because Karen herself was alone. Fatts cursed furiously as he stumbled back up, and came face-to-face with Lucinda Scott, who'd stormed out following the abysmal way McGarron was eliminated. "Get your ass out of the arena!" Fatts bit his lower lip and charged to the back, tons of emotions & thoughts running through his head. Lucy wasn't too bothered with that; now, she focused her attention on Karen, who'd been trying her hardest to weaken the left shoulder of Mercy for the last minute or so. Knee drops, kicks, punches -- you name it, she was doing it. Finally, Lucy got her attention as she rushed over to the other side. The Lassie frowned, wondering why Lucinda was out there. Until, of course, Lucy got the word out that Fatts was out of the fight. Turning around, Karen understood. And scowled. Turning back, the scowl was wiped off her face, courtesy of a swirling uppercut from Mercy. "MERCY
ROCKS!" Mercy was now determined to change the shape of the fight, as she raced forward and executed a brilliant spinning backheel kick with her left foot, completely knocking the air out of Karen. Reeling, the girl from Manchester had little time to think of a way to evade the incoming roundhouse kick from the Masked Enigma. But somehow, her fast reflexes saved her, and she managed to use her left hand to swat the kick away effortlessly, before attempting to level Mercy with a jab. The latter ducked, and sent a knife-edged chop into the side of Karen's neck. Lucinda flinched as much as Karen did, because she knew. She knew, especially when Pembridge fell to the mat, that the neck injury had arisen again. The Masked Enigma wasn't sticking around to find out if that really was the case, as she took a step back and launched a spinning heel kick at Karen Pembridge, who really looked in pain. Maybe that was simply an act, however? How else, then, did the Lassie somehow jerk back to life at the correct time? Catching Vertigo in a pump-handle and going on to execute a pump-handle spinning slam? The crowd... was stunned. The former IOW Cruiserweight, Tag-Team, and North American Champion was firing on all cylinders at the moment, but the Manchester girl wasn't going to let the referee start the count, which was certainly able to be utilised now, following the eliminations of Poser & Fatts. No, that would have been too easy for Karen. Instead, with her eyes glinting and the audience concerned, Karen Pembridge locked in a double whammy. A Kimura shoulder lock with a lot of emphasis placing on hyperextending the neck. Truly a deadly move. Mercy was in immediate pain, and her cries for help could be heard all around the arena, even above the noise generated. The massive cheering had died down but there was still a lot of indecisiveness from the crowd. Did they all want to cheer or jeer or suck each other's huge dongs? Nobody knew. All that was known that there was concern for Mercy. The Masked Enigma struggled about again, desperately looking for an escape. This time, there really wasn't such an outlet. The only option Triple V had, it seemed, was to tap out. But she wasn't going to. She had thought of something else. Something that nobody else would have probably contemplated. She raised her left leg in the air and rammed her knee into the head of her adversary. "HOLY
SHIT!" Sacrificing her own knee, Mercy got herself out of that sticky situation, and kept her hopes of winning the fight still alive. Karen, on the other hand, was experiencing one hell of a headache... and found it hard to stand as she returned to her feet. Mercy noticed this, and realised that this could be the opening she need to take control of the fight, firmly. So, she ran towards the cage, jumped onto the rim, flipped sides, and jumped off looking to hit some sort of hurricaranna variation... Karen, however, easily caught her in mid-air and slammed her down to the mat in a sitdown powerbomb. The execution was brilliant, and the power behind the move seemed to suggest that maybe Mercy was done as dinner. Karen grinned as she got back up, and the count was started up, much to the crowd's dismay; 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9 would go here. And 10 would go here. But Mercy got up at 8, so... yeah. Karen fumed, and turned to Lucinda, motioning for something. Lucy nodded her head, before crouching down and retrieving a chair from the ground. Quickly, she stood up and threw the chair at Karen. However, the twist was that Mercy raced ahead of Karen and grabbed the chair, before slamming her elbow into the face of the Lassie. Startled, Karen had no time to defend herself or object or do anything, for that matter. She was in for a sharp turn in the road, that she could have never expected. *CRACK* She staggered back. *CRACK* Karen now dropped to one knee, blood pouring out of the cut on her temple. *CRACK* *CRACK* Out on the ground now, with Lucinda looking on, horrified. *CRACK* *CRACK* *CRACK* *CRACK* *CRACK* Karen was dead. Mercy wasn't done. *CRACK* "Stop it!" Lucinda screamed. Mercy turned around and rushed to the cage, in a flash. *CRACK* And cracked the chair over Lucy's head. The referee, obviously, had to start the count... with Karen laying absolutely motionless on the ground; 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. NO FUCKING WAY. The girl from Manchester, somehow, rose to her feet... and smiled at Mercy, indicating that the fun was only starting. The race was on. The two women approached each other, and Karen was the first to get the ball rolling, throwing a punch at Mercy. Who, however, blocked the hook attempt and almost floored Karen with a hook of her own. Followed by three more vicious rights, but as she went for the fourth one, Karen snapped out of her stupor and fired back with a powerful punch of her own. Going for another one, Pembridge was shocked to see Mercy block it again. The Lassie had one last trick up her sleeve, however, as she ducked a return punch from Triple V and at the same time, connected with a brilliant northern-lights suplex slam, which almost snapped Mercy's spine into two. With Lucinda recovering on the outside, Karen leaned against the mesh, as the count was administered again; 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. So close, yet so far. Mercy gathered every last drop of energy she had to lift herself off the canvas. Karen cursed, typically enough, and forced herself to walk towards her enemy, who had already regained her footing. Karen waited for the Masked Enigma to face her, before unleashing a wild, maniacal swing at her. Mercy ducked, wrapped her arms around Karen's waist and connected with a powerful back-suplex. One that seemed to take all the sting out of The British Lassie, as she lay on the canvas, out cold. Mercy, influenced by the increasingly loud roars of the crowd, quickly scrambled to her feet and jumped onto the top of the rim of the cage, eyes gleaming with anticipation. She had to hit this move. It would ensure her the victory, she felt. And then... she jumped. "HOLY
SHIT!" A knee-drop, into the face of the Manchester girl! Karen simply had nothing in her that would compel her to move out of the way, and Mercy connected spot on! The reveberated from the noise generated, and Mercy punched the air as the count got underway; 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. Wait. She got up. "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!" Karen Pembridge hadn't gotten this far in her life by quitting that easily, and Mercy was undeniably frustrated. What would it take to beat Karen, she wondered. What move would put her away, for good? A piledriver, maybe, to put more pressure on her weakened neck? You bet your hairy ass. However, as Mercy pulled Pembridge up and placed her head between her thighs, setting her up for a piledriver... The British Lassie mustered up enough strength to force her adversary over her head, in a back body-drop. The fans exploded in another chorus of jeers... especially when they saw Karen Pembridge measuring Vertigo up. For what specific move? Nobody knew. All they could assume was that this was gonna be the knockout blow. Mercy scrambled to her feet, her body aching all over. It was about to get worse, for when she turned around, Karen Pembridge delivered one of the most scintillating sweeping roundhouse kicks ever seen. Spittle flew out of Vertigo's mouth; such was the impact of the kick. Mercy crashed down to the mat, seeing her own dreams crash in the process. Karen didn't care. She stood there, defiantly, admist the deafening roars of approval, with the count being registered; 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. ... OH HELL YEAH. "MERCY
ROCKS!" Somehow, some way... Mercy pulled herself up. Despite the pain burning her body, the Masked Enigma growled and brought her aching anatomy back to its vertical base, with Karen Pembridge groaning agitatedly. Lucinda, who'd completely recovered by now, was actually somewhat stunned to see the fight still ongoing. And it seemed her recovering proved to be the jinx. Mercy & Karen ran at each other again, with Mercy ducking a left swing and kicking Karen in the ribs. Grabbing her by the arm, Mercy whipped her stomach-first into the rim on the other side, nearly ringing her out. Karen winced and staggered back into Mercy's grasp, allowing her to connect with a reverse DDT. Not caring for the cheers, the Masked Enigma immediately positioned herself so she was headlocking Pembridge and began raining down the right hands. Fist after fist dug into the Lassie’s forehead until blood began to spill out from the temple, again. As if Karen's face wasn't covered in blood enough. And still, Mercy wasn’t stopping. This is exactly what it took to put an end to the hired gun of one Lucinda Scott. There was no room for fighting nice against Karen. The Lassie was now kicking her legs up and down, trying to escape the headlock, but Mercy’s weight was positioned well. Mercy then decided to bring her her up in the headlock position, before bulldoggin' her halfway across the cage. The crowd roared with gusto, but somehow, Karen got up almost immediately, throwing a right hand at Mercy who was catching her breath. She anticipated the punch, however and dodged it, scoring with a side-to-back suplex. The Masked Enigma was going old-school now. Karen was fighting through the pain. But when she got up, Mercy ran at her and delivered a reverse elbow, sending her flying into the mesh of the cage. There, Mercy followed up by grabbing Karen's hair and punching away once again. The British Lassie fought back, however, with a front snap kick between the legs. Now, Karen had the tables turned and that didn’t spell good news for Mercy. The girl from Manchester somehow managed to axekick her opponent right in the shoulder, the impact of which sent her to one knee. Karen then immediately lashed out with a backheel kick to the face. Mercy was about to fall to the mat, but Karen had to finish him off with a roundhouse kick to the head. The Masked Enigma fell to the ground, having just been through a a clinic of three vicious kicks. And now, Karen was certain that she'd won; 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. The crowd were going nuts, not able to contain their excitement. "Sodding hell." Karen spat, and stormed towards Mercy, who stunned the Lassie with a spinning backfist. Now, Karen's nose was broken, and she staggered backwards, fatigue really draining her. This all allowed Mercy to recover and sneak up behind the Lassie, with the crowd sensing what was to come. Backdrop driver. And they call it... Mercy Killing. The end of the road for Karen Pembridge; 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. What the fuck? No, Karen didn't get up. Instead, Mercy dropped to the canvas. Why? Maybe because a 6'3", 400 lbs monster slammed his arm into the back of her neck? Yeah, that's it. Who, you ask? He's been nicknamed The Reaper, The Gravelord... amongst other things. He was in the fWo. He was the bodyguard to the current fWo Heavyweight Champion, Kodiak Vic Creed. WAS, being the operative word. Not the case anymore, following some communication problems. ... Fine, I'll cut to the chase. 'Nasty' Nick Brandish, ladies and gentlemen. And as he pulled Karen Pembridge up, Lucinda Scott grinned. The crowd exploded with a round of jeers, hissing and screaming. This wasn't the finish they were looking forward to, and paid for. The official didn't know what to make of the situation, as Lucy got into the cage and shook hands with Nick Brandish. Clearly, this had been planned, following the attack last week in the alleyway by Mercy & Eddie Scott Poser. Brandish had been bought, and to play the role of a bodyguard. However, this little interruption punctuated one fact. Highlighted by the retreat of The Lassie & Lucy & Nick Brandish from the scene of the crime, leaving Mercy to writhe on the canvas, furious and vengeful. The war wasn't over. Far from it. And the great battle between the two women was left without a conclusive victor. Karen & Mercy would have to fight one more time, to finish things. Once and for all. Winners: Undetermined
Falling from the heavens. The lights went dim. Almost all the arena was in virtual darkness. Then the arena was filled with the light tinkling of a piano it was a repetitive tinkle, beating like an axe trying to chop down a tree. Then a light white light lit up in the rafters of the roof. A figure was distinguishable balanced on the scaffolding and beams holding the arena up. "What the fuck is he doing there?" was the first reaction of the audience then "Who the fuck is he?" The piano notes continued to play like water trickling down a gentle waterfall. But. With a marching like repetitiveness. It got louder. And louder. But still they were the same notes. The man then walked along the beam directly above The Asylum. You can see the man looking down upon the octagon. "REP YO’ CIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITEEEEEEH!" Thundered out of the speakers in the arena. As if by cue the lights flashed on like lighting. Then a rain of silver confetti fell from the ceiling of the structure flooding the whole arena. The man that prowled the rafters then became visible. He had cappuccino splashed skin, short jet black, stubby, dreadlocks and all sorts of piercing around his body. He had a rather muscular build that was displayed obviously by his tight lime green T-shirt that pressed against his muscles. He was also bright attention grabbing brown denim jeans and lime green wrestling boots. The man had some sort of back pack strapped to him as he dived from the rafters to the centre of the asylum. He was aided by strings attached to his back pack. Never-the-less he pretended he was flying or jumping by doing a praying mantis pose all the way down. "Rep Your City" by E-40 continued to pound out of the speakers system like someone trying to break down a door. The man stood in the centre of the Asylum. Slap bang in the middle. Dead in the centre. He took his back pack off and it was zipped up by the workers in the rafters. Slowly the music started to fade. Someone threw a microphone to him which he caught with one hand. Our first impression is he is a showman. The music stopped. The man of mixed race just glared at the audience making sure he had their attention. You know how. Like that dickhead History teacher would do at the start of a lesson if one kid was talking. Fuck the forty odd other students in the class, he’d stand there glaring at everyone else making sure he had their attention. Prick. Eventually everyone was quiet. He was the centre of attention - which is what he wanted. "I am here in the Asylum. I am Reggie Harrison-Willis and I am the best thing that has happened to this fed in a long time." He greeted the world in what seems to be a wining dragging voice. "I’m not going to make this speech a long drawn out patch of piss which you probably wont remember tomorrow. Even though I can’t. I’m very entertaining. Which you’ll find out about me in the upcoming weeks." There’s a lot of "I"s and "Me"s. This guy is obviously full of himself. "Now I’d say I had an normal life. But I wont. As that’d mean I’d be like you fucking lot. And let’s face it, you’re probably all nice people. But there’s a reason why I’m in here and you’re not. I’m a bit a special." He brags. The crowd started getting restless - another Egomaniac - big deal they thought. A few whispers started. "SHUT UP!" He screamed. Like a toddler having a tantrum. "SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" His moaning voice groaned. "JUST FUCKING SHUT UP! I’M FUCKING TALKING! DON’T YOU FUCKERS HAVE ANY MANNERS." The people were shocked. That grown man was having a temper tantrum in front of their eyes. "Fina-fucking-ly." He grunted at the eventual silence. "Now I’m here to--" "FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU!" the audience started to chant. Reggie’s jaw dropped. "Why are you fuckers being so insolent? I told you to fucking shut up!" "FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU!" "I SAID FUCKING SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! I’M FUCKING TALKING!" He barked like a bulldog trying to get at his food. "FUCK YOU!" "DO YOU FUCKERS NOT KNOW WHEN TO SHUT UP!?" Him screaming was obviously encouraging them. RHW started to jump up and down whilst screaming "SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" over-and-over again. "FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU!" they replied. "That’s it." He just threw the microphone down and hopped over the four foot wall and walked off to the backstage area. He had enough. He threw his tantrum. He didn’t get what he wanted so he went. What a baby.
Bodyguard Battle | Enclosed Asylum “It’s time to
prove yourself tonight mate. You gotta go out there and prove why I
should make you my bodyguard.. and then I’ll get rid of Dez.” The
Asylum owner chuckled to himself as he walked side by side with Thanh in
the noisy backstage corridors. Dez followed close behind Campbell;
angered glare on his face while Joe and Vactor turned the corner. The trio approached the black curtain; the opening bars from “Smack my bitch up” by Prodigy could be heard blaring in the distance. Campbell was about to step through the entrance way, when Thanh extended his right arm in front of Campbell.. Dez put his fists up in attack mode but Joe signaled him to stand down. ”I’m ready.” The small assassin quietly spoke up; then Campbell nodded his approval. ”That’s what I wanted to hear.” The scene changed from backstage to inside the venue as the audience waited impatiently for Campbell and crew to make their appearance.. which they did seconds later to unanimous reaction… jeers. Campbell wasted no time killing the crowd noise as he signaled the production staff to kill his music by moving his right hand, across the front of his throat. And if that didn’t work.. there was one thing that Campbell knew to do that had never failed him in the past… ”SHUT THE FUCK UP!” ”Okay yanks. In a matter of seconds…” Joe was interrupted by a small crowd of San Diego fans near the ramp way, but Campbell silenced their chatter when he flashed his revolver in their direction.. preparing to pull the trigger. He walked to the far end the stage, continuing his tirade. ”Now, as soon as that bloody Osyrus gets out here.. we are going to see one of these men ‘win’ the opportunity to become my new bodyguard. Seeing how some people have made too many mistakes these last couple of weeks…” Joe looked right at Dez and shook his head in disgust. “…The search for new employment has begun and it will not end until I feel that I have competent men by my side. And since this match is so important, I have decided that I need to see this action first hand. But enough of the chit chat; let ‘s get this shite started.” Campbell directed Vactor toward the steel dome; extending his right arm, which pointed down the ramp way. “Needles” by Seether blared over the P.A system as the cruiserweight attacker headed to the ring, wearing his traditional Japanese or Vietnamese black gown. Vactor slowly walked down the ramp; eyes focused forward as he stepped up onto the platform.. entering the large dome. In the center of spherical fighting stage… Thanh started to remove the jacket portion of his attire; muscles rippled down both of his arms and across his stomach. He slowly moved his arms and legs side to side in a stretching fashion; resembling a modern day Bruce Lee. Thanh Vactor stopped his stretching as he stood in the dome peacefully; eyes closed.. thousands of spiritual miles away from where he was going to physically do combat. But the calm before the storm was over when the lights dimmed… and the royal, trumpet fanfare began. Vactor quickly opened his eyes as even Joe Campbell and Dez looked toward the entrance way, waiting for Thanh’s opponent to make his arrival… ”I’ve been
patiently waiting for a track to explode on. If it feels like my flows been hot for so long… If ya thinking I’m fucking fall off, ya so wrong! “Patiently Waiting” by 50 cent roared into the arena, but not as loud as the fans’ negative reaction when the warrior known as Osyrus stepped onto the stage. His trademark black hoodie with his own logo on the front, covered his face as he rose both arms into the air triumphantly as if the battle had all ready been won. Osyrus put his arms down; then looked over in Campbell’s direction as the owner of tA smirked evilly, before the hybrid competitor continued down the aisle way. Vactor didn’t look intimidated, never taking his eyes off of his much larger opponent.. that out weighed him by eighty pounds of muscles; towered over him by a foot while the strobe lights flickered and flashed inside the venue. When Osyrus reached the base of the dome; he removed the hood from his face. He glared menacingly at his new adversary with his silver, pierced right eyebrow and stone face expression… before breaking character with a slight smirk that started from the right corner of his mouth. Osyrus stepped into the cage, extending his arms outward to their sides, slightly covering the door as the official closed the gate... locking it with a large thick chain and bolt lock. ”Now… there’s nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.” Osyrus said in a cocky fashion. Taking off his hoodie and throwing it on the ground… The people in attendance were surprised as the official walked away from the door. This must have been the surprise he had meant earlier in the evening. The official waved his arm toward the time keeper.. seconds later the bell chimed and the match was underway. Vactor started to bounce rhythmically, side to side while Osyrus mirrored his movements.. as the two circled each other. Vactor kicked his right leg out toward Osyrus, but he moved out of the way easily as he shot a smirk at Thanh.. as he continued to move around the dome. ”Is that the best thing they taught you, in those sweat shops that you used to work at?” Osyrus laughed out loud while Thanh tried to connect with various kicks.. which were blocked easily by Osyrus’ triangulate blocking style. “… Let me show you how it’s done, son.” Osyrus snarled as Thanh swung his leg toward Osyrus’ face like a bat at a baseball, to silence his cheap talk. But this time… Osyrus didn’t block it, rather he caught Vactor’s leg in his hands as he now hopped on one leg, seemingly defenseless. Osyrus flipped Vactor off with his right hand; left hand still held Thanh’s right leg.. before he dropped to a knee; swinging the momentum of his body toward the inside of the leg that he held… as Osy tried to twist Vactor’s leg off at the knee cap with a sickening dragon screw leg whip, that made some fans cringe. “How did you like that wrestling, you dumb ass fighter?” Osyrus said, never short on words. Vactor screamed out in pain, before slowly composing himself as Joe Campbell watched from a few feet away. Osyrus reached down; pulling V up by the back of his neck… before he drove his right quadriceps muscle into Vactor’s chest several times. Osyrus finished up the flurry with a right, opened hand palm strike to the bridge of the V’s nose… which rocked the smaller of the two men back to the canvas. Osyrus shook the numbness out his hand as the official started to count the foreign fighter down. 1 2 3 4 5 Thanh Vactor was back to one knee; supporting all his weight on that right leg… when Osy started to advance on him quickly; not letting his prey get any breathing room. ‘The Personification of Talent’ leaned down to pull Vactor back up to his feet with both of his hands around V’s throat… but was stopped in his tracks by a flurry of left sided mid kicks to his rib cage. When Osyrus tried to block them, raising his knee against his rib cage; Vactor spun to his right.. sweeping Osyrus’ other leg out from underneath him. The crowd applauded the fast exchange as Vactor popped onto his feet; back stepping when Osy got to his feet seemingly effortlessly; the leg sweep seemed to have no affect on the tough wrester. But the china man was well prepared; he crouched down… sprung into the air as he launched his right foot into the center of Osyrus’ chest with his patented Pump Kick… sending Mr. Christensen tumbling around on the canvas. Again; the self proclaimed ‘Savior’ of the Asylum was back up from the ground, kneeling to his right side. Thanh charged, jumped off of Osyrus’ right knee.. then blasted Osy in the back of his head with a Shining Wizard! This time the so called wrestler was down… And out. The official ready to do the job he was intended to do, as the fans counted along. 1 2 3 4 5 Standing straight up; feeling the back of his head for blood, as he also wiped the saliva from his mouth… Osyrus was back to his feet again for the third time. “You son of a bitch.. you’re going to pay!” Osyrus snarled. He charged full speed toward Vactor; whipping his arm at incredible speed for a hooking clothesline… but Vactor ducked as Osyrus went back for a second try while both men were in the center of the ring, going toe to toe… move for move. Campbell’s newest slave boy swung his leg at Osyrus again like before; his leg had round house kick written all over it, but Osyrus ducked at the last second before he got behind V… where he wrapped his massive arms around Mr. Thanh’s tiny waist. Osyrus pulled upward as he tossed Vactor through the air with a release German suplex into the Asylum steel mesh. OW! The live audience spouted out as Vactor landed on his neck after colliding into the dome. “How did that feel you little martial arts fuck? A little wrestling know how… goes a long way.” He wiped the sweat from under his pierced eyebrow; taking a second to look up to where Campbell stood on the stage… as he drug his right thumb across his throat. That was not a good sign for Vactor, who wiped the blood from under his nose.. crawling away from Osyrus, but didn’t get far enough away. Osy grabbed V’s ankle first; before he began a full out assault on Thanh. Smashing him with his right bicep into the neck region before alternating between using his arm or his feet.. repeatedly stomping onto V’s skull with the heel of his foot, before he brought Vactor back up. Joe Campbell started to clap loudly, which made the California fans he called demons earlier in the week, to boo and hiss with contempt for him and anything he enjoyed. The action in the Asylum dome ceased to slow down one bit because of what was going on outside the cage. Osyrus slowly lifted Vactor stirring body up by his waist again… He hooked Thanh in a front face lock, pulling Vactor up by his pants to gain leverage… as spiked him back into the earth with a stiff vertical suplex brain buster. While both men laid on the canvas; Osyrus still held on, he twisted his hips as he lifted Vactor back into the air… another vicious and unforgiving brainbuster split Vactor’s head open. “It’s no where near over yet bitch.. I am just getting warmed up.” Osyrus leaned down in front of Thanh’s face; as he slapped the warm, stale taste out of his V’s mouth. The former ACW world champion hoisted his opponent’s dead weighted body up onto his shoulder… a few second delay; with Vactor’s feet being tossed up first, before his vertebrae connected with the mat… Death Valley Driver well executed, might have spelled the end. 1 2 3 Campbell made his way down the ramp way, getting much closer to the action. 4 5 6 ”It’s not going to end that easy for you my fine Chinese friend, and I use that word ‘friend’ loosely…” Osy pulled V off of the canvas, before tossing him into the Asylum mesh. “… I have to make an example out of you for all the non believers.” People that had watched Fight H3LL from the start, knew that the event would be filled with the evil intentions of men… Their thoughts brewed and stirred in the deepest of their subconscious mind; and that disease even spread to the newly debuted competitors, that had never fought in an Asylum arena… Where Osy spat on Vactor first; in a disrespectful manner before he locked his hands under Vactor’s right shoulder blade and across his neck. The highly technically sound competitor pulled back on V’s upper torso with a Dragon Sleeper/Camel Clutch combination that Osyrus dubbed ‘The Dragon Clutch’. And as Vactor laid on the canvas, writhing in pain… he never gave up; even though Osy had pulled his torso so far back.. that Thanh could reach the small of his back. ”Tap out, you son of a bitch!” Osyrus bellowed loudly as the crowd boo’d when he increased his intensity. But Vactor would never say die…. Fighting to straighten his body out amidst the pain. ”Fuck it then.” He released the hold; clobbering V on the back with stiff forearm shivers… as he rose to his feet then stomped on the back Vactor’s neck. Osy leaned over; he grasped the back of Thanh’s neck like a rag dog… yanking him upward, but Vactor had other plans indeed. YEAHHH! The audience roared in admiration, for what happened next. Mr. Thanh Vactor connected several times in the blink of a naked fan’s eye. He struck the would be fighter in the groin three times with alternating jabs… RIGHT LEFT RIGHT And once in the side of Osyrus’ face with a swinging kick. But Vactor showed his resilience once more with a solid boot that was firmly ingrained into Osyrus’ chest… a modified Thrust kick from the ground up… Where Vactor was used to employing an attack, when came to larger opponents. Thanh had backed Osy up long enough so he could get back to his feet; slowing inhaling quick breaths of air. Osyrus began to grow more enraged with every step he stomped toward V… rubbing the middle of his chest, where Vactor made his mark. Again; the large muscular, and hot tempered competitor rushed toward his small adversary… fire in his eyes and rage in his black heart. Vactor stood poised and ready; arms in front of him in a Praying Mantis fashion…Osyrus drew nearer and nearer with every passing second while Joe looked on as well. OH!!!! Mr. Christensen was not known for his speed, but Vactor was. Osy completely missed his target when Vactor parried Osyrus’ charge… wrapping his feet around Osyrus’ ankle… which sent Christensen into the mesh, face first. V rolled up on the ankle he held; now he had Osyrus in an ankle lock… while simultaneously he rubbed the warrior’s face across the Asylum mesh. Joe Campbell was right in front of the action; he knew that no matter who would win… he would be the ultimate winner. Osyrus fought to pull himself from off of the cage; Vactor slapped him in the back of his head in a taunting manner while crowd laughed and cheered their approval. Holding the back of his head while Vactor smirked… Osy slowed down V’s momentum as he pondered his next move. You could never count the tricky wrestler out as he slowly walked toward the center of the dome; where Thanh could be found. Dez was now at Joe’s side when the two conversed, their voices were not audible. ”You know what little Asian man, I don’t want to fight you anymore. I don’t care this much to be Joe Campbell’s lackey.. when I can go on my own and win championship after championship with out being held down. You know what, you little fuckhead… I am going to let you get a knock out shot…” Osyrus paused to spit the salty blood out of his mouth before he continued. ”… Don’t you want to win your debut match over the wrestling industry’s best fucking wrestler alive today? Don’t you want to be Campbell’s bodyguard.. so your rice eating ass isn’t sent back to the sweat shops? And I am not even going to attempt to block your weak ass kick. So if you’re not scarred… fire away little man. Fire away.” Osyrus stood in front of Vactor urging him to bring it; he smirked as did Joe. No one knew what was going to happen next while Thanh kicked his leg out a few times in front of Osy. But he didn’t move as promised. V backed up a few steps; he bounced into the air as he did earlier in the bout… flying toward Osy with a Jumping Front Kick, but Osyrus was nowhere to be found. He ducked low as he tried to take out Thanh Vactor’s leg with a front style, chop block… but the tiny terror avoided the shoulder to knee cap collision. Osyrus hated to be shown up or out done; and he was going to let it twice against the same opponent… He rolled back around, striking the back of Thanh’s leg with a rising chop block that dropped Vactor on the back of his neck, while Osyrus tore through his thigh muscle. ”Enough of this fighting bullshit…” Osy snarled. Lifting V’s right leg off of the mat, alternating his attacks between the groin and the quadriceps muscle when he struck with his right bicep. Vactor tried to fight off the lower body break down; he kicked Osy in the chest, but it did no damage.. when Osyrus decided he wanted to end it with one last manuever. The spreading of Vactor’s leg; Osyrus stepping through as he pivoted his body onto his left foot… and the crossing of the leg’s Osy held; pulling back as he sat down. That series of moves signified that the wrestler locked in one of his most infamous moves… The Industry’s Best. Also known as the best sharpshooter in the business. Inside the Asylum dome; Thanh Vactor continued to scratch and claw his finger tips into the canvas to escape. Each movement more desperate than the last while Osyrus yelled out loud.. he knew that victory was only mere moments away… as V’s energy level faded. Campbell applauded what he witnessed thus far; pointing to Dez to take notes as the men in the ring battled for supremacy. Now Vactor laid on the Asylum fighting platform motionless. Osy looked back over his right shoulder to check and see if it was true what he heard. ”That’s it… it’s over. Count him out ref.” Osyrus released the hold as Vactor’s legs hit the canvas with a thump. “… What a pathetic end, an assassin my ass…” Osy reached down to turn Thanh over on his back but was unpleasantly surprised when the self appointed body guard/slave and contract killer sprung to life.. grabbing Osyrus by the throat, taking him to the ground. Playing dead. How un fair was that? But in any event, it was highly effective as Vactor took over on Osyrus; striking him in the face with lighting fast opened palm strikes to the fast.. that seemed to daze the gangster rap wrestler as he swung his arms in the air wildly to block the punches. Thanh hopped onto his toes; slide his right foot across the solid ground surface, where both men’s DNA samples could be found. He reared it forward again, blasting Osyrus in the temple with his ankle. Osy’s head bounced off of the mesh, landing face first into the mat. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 ”I’ll make sure to do just that.” Vactor spoke softly… and in seconds was in Osyrus’ face as he grabbed him by the back of his neck. BOOM! V drove his right knee into Osyrus’ rib cage. Osy doubled over in pain. BLAM! Even the fans felt the last shot, Thanh driving his left knee into Osy’s kidneys.. back stepping as he spun… His Spinning Back Fist crashed into Osyrus’ face. Again; Mr. Christensen found himself on the canvas in the worst position he thought possible… On his hands and knees, being counted down again. 1 2 3 4 5 6 “Nice shot coming from a twelve year old looking motherfucker…” Osy spat out blood ridden insults from the ground as he slowly rose up. The official still counted. 7 8 9 Finally back to his feet at the last second; Osyrus wiped the blood from his swelling fat lip. He ripped the black wife beater from his chest… as Osy sucked in and snorted out loud breaths of air like a wild animal. “… I don’t think you were listening,” He paused to catch his breath as he smirked at Thanh, who was in utter amazement that his adversary had risen from the dead again. ”I told you that this issue isn’t over quite yet boy.” Osy slowly stalked forward. Vactor wasn’t going to waste anytime.. He needed to finish or he could be in big trouble. Osyrus was approaching fast; killer instinct look glazed over his crazed eyes… Thanh let Osy take another step forward and only one step before he leaped into the air like a cat; swinging his leg at Osyrus’ cranium at lighting speed… But Thanh should
have learned by now. And he did. Osyrus blocked and caught the kick in mid air… latching onto his leg; turning slightly to toss Thanh toward the gated Asylum door with a T-Bone suplex as Vactor slammed into it with authority. OH! The crowd in attendance bellowed after the replay showed. The chain rattled continually after the impact, as it was apparent that the climax to this ending was only moments away as Osyrus knelt down like a caged animal. Preparing to ram himself and Vactor through the cage door… Thanh had finally gotten to both feet when Osyrus took off like a rocket; crouched low and aimed straight at Vactor’s rib cage. A wicked and deadly spear was coming… another thing that Osyrus stole from Kellen Kinkade in a way; the Killing Spree… but much, much better. Nowhere to Run, Nowhere to Hide was seconds away from ending all the speculation of who would become Mr. Joe Campbell’s new bodyguard… That is, if it would have connected. Vactor dove out of the way as Osy’s shoulder collided with the gated door… blasting it open. It smacked against the mesh while it swung on it’s hinge. Osyrus turned for a second attempt but V was in his face; knocking his skull back with right and left knee lifts to the face, while his face was held tightly by Vactor’s arms. Osyrus staggered back after a final rising blow.. he got closer to the door when Vactor followed in hot pursuit.. jumping and connecting with a round house that completed Thanh’s signature move; The Black Out…sent Osy flying through the door way; where he landed firmly on both feet… outside of the structure! The crowd erupted as a victor was finally crowned. Joe sarcastically clapped while “Needles” by Seether exploded into Qualcomm Stadium. At the bottom of the ramp way; was where Osyrus stood calling for the official to pass him a microphone. ”You may have won the battle, but it’s far from over between us. Like I continually said during this whole bout…” He walked over to the steel chain that laid on the ground, placing it in his hands before wrapping it around his right fist. “..It’s not over till one of us doesn’t walk away!” Osyrus sprinted into the Asylum dome; the noise level escalated as the two ducked punches that were thrown at one other. Thanh started to get the upper hand; kicking Osy in his already injured ribs… but Osyrus knew how to kick a man, where it counted as well. Low blow. Followed by an un blocked shot with the chain around the fist. Thanh was down as Joe Campbell slowly made his way into the Asylum; as Osyrus lifted Vactor up in a rotating reverse fireman’s carry.. wrenching the cruiserweight’s neck and back as Osy continued to stretch him. ”Here’s your new body guard Joe… or what’s left.” Osy dipped his shoulder; releasing V’s legs first, but held onto his neck.. the second before he wanted to drive him face first into the ground with a reverse Death Valley Driver that he aptly named Oblivion. Thanh was out cold while Osyrus stood over him, now making his way to the chain again… slowly pulling Vactor’s head up; at the same time, sliding the chain around his neck like a choker necklace. And that was definitely what he had in mind. ”Wait one bloody fucking second.” Joe stopped the carnage from happening further. “I have come to a new decision that I think that you will agree with, but first you have to come to my office so we can discuss it.. not in front of this sun tanned fucks.” The audience started to boo, as Osyrus threw the chain down as he exited with Joe. ”…Oh and by the way Dez, grab Thanh while your at it.. this involves him too.” Dez scoped Thanh up onto his shoulder, as he exited the Asylum and followed behind Campbell and Osyrus. The four men disappeared behind the curtain while “Smack my bitch up” by Prodigy faded out. What thoughts swan around in Joe’s cesspool head were never known until it became a reality… Could this be the beginning of an evil partnership? Winner: Thanh Vactor via Ringout
Where'd that truck come from? Silence fell upon the arena as the tA team champions - that's Splink if you didn't know - walked to the cage. There was no music, the official reason being Joe wanted to save on the arena hire costs and the venue offered a 10% discount if he cut the musics of some fighters. Splink were top of the list. TMM, Slapnutz, Mr Pink and Wincy Willis walked into the cage, Mr Pink started clapping his arms in an attempt to get the crowd to at least clap the tune of their music but nothing happened. Slapnutz had a swearing match with Wincy Willis... like he'd ever stand a chance of winning! TMM picked up a microphone and threw it into the air in an attempt to show off by catching it in the style of tom cruise in that awful film, Cocktail. Hand-Eye coordination ain't on form tonight as TMM not only dropped it but stubbed his finger as he did. That's gotta hurt! Slappy got on the mic, his tag team championship bet being Polished from behind by Wincy Willis. She slowly moved down his body to rub something but he pushed her away and kicked her in the head. Wincy crawled into the corner of the cage, crying. Instant heat for Slap! "I've had enough of this, cut my music" shouted Slap, forgetting the music wasn't playing. Slapnutz turned red with embarrassment at this mistake "Why didn't you change the auto cue, arsehole!" he shouted up to the executive producer of Splink Entertainment. The entire crowd turned around to see some Jerry Miguire lookalike sat on his arse in a room with a script and a big red button. "This is bullshit, we've come to see fighting not some sissy ass production" shouted someone from the crowd. "Lets kill them!" shouted another person. A big fat smelly man jumped up "No, let's all masturbate in a protest against this scripted sham!" All the men in the audience stood up and shouted "aye". One fatter man added "But men only!", the entire male gathering let out another "aye" before taking their pants off. "Oh fucking hell, look what you've fucking done you stupid Scotch prick!" Screamed Mr Pink at Slapnutz. Slapnutz dropped the microphone and ran out of the cage and to the back. TMM and Mr Pink made a run for it too, "He's caused a fucking riot. This reminds me of that shite film Godzilla where all those Chyna look alikes take over Madison Square Garden. Then like a angel sent from above a really large breasted woman, long blonde hair and an ass to die for climbed onto the cage and called for calm. "Oh men, please don't get your cocks out, it's not nice. Instead how about me and all the other good looking women in the arena get inside the cage and have a long session of lesbian loving for you!" Most of the men screamed their approval, this being fighting there were obviously a few arse bandits in the crowd. "Oh how fortunate, the international page 3 girls convention is here tonight". Over on the far side of the arena were 47 beautiful page 3 girls. They all rushed to the cage to be with the angel. Wincy was thrown out, One final announcement came from the voice of the angel "We need one man though" Shouts of ME ME ME ME came from the crowd. "There is only one serious candidate though, this person is pure sex, a real mans man, and he's hung like a horse. Give it up from SLAPNUTZ!" Slapnutz raced into the cage, not believing his luck. He was jumped on by all the girls and... well, this is where you had to pay $30 to watch on... ... ... ... ... ...so the massive orgy was over, everyone was shagged out and TMM, Mr Pink and Wincy Willis went back to the cage to join the blushing Slapnutz. TMM shook his head in disgust. "You're an embarrassment!". The girls booed and chanted "Slappy". "Ah shut your gobs and worry about how badly your tits are going to sag when you're older" TMM shouted back to the girls. A short pause for thought by them before they booed him again and checked each others tits for sagging. "Fuck this, we're not here to promote pornography or put Slapnutz over as a ladies lover. No we're fucking here because we are the TAG FUCKING TEAM CHAMPIONS" TMM, turning red and with steam coming out of his nose threw the Microphone against the cage, the girls meanwhile continued their chants "Slapnutz is a sex god", "We want your Slap-Nutz" and "You are our god, you make us cream in our dreams, Slapnutz shag us til' we're blind" During all this Slapnutz was standing tall and lapping it all up. TMM went over and picked up the microphone, he launched it at Slap but Slap - with the reflexes of Bruce Grobbler in his prime - caught the Microphone, did Tom Cruise better than Tom Cruise could, threw it high into the air and then headed it back to TMM - With snow on it. Cue more shouting for Slapnutz from the girls. "Fe, Fi, Fo Thumb, I smell the shit of a challenger man. Be they alive or be they dead, we'll grind their bones to earn our bread" TMM tried playing the giant out of Jack & The Beanstalk. "So come out you mother fuckers, Be you alive, or be you dead, we'll break your bones and make you... bled. Well you get the idea, so anyone want to crack at these shiny titles then come down here and meet the force that is... err... Splink" Slapnutz coolly walked over to TMM, the girls screaming at his every step, he took the Microphone off TMM and did some juggling. "Hello Ladies......" Mr Pink and TMM shook their head is disgust and general embarrassment. The page 3 girls and some camp men loved it though. "I'm Slapnutz" (Girly screams) "and I'm a feature of Gang Splink, you could call me the intense DRIVE (Abdominal Thrusts) behind Splink" (More screams) "Being the DRIVE and being in the mood for getting down to some fighting action then I'm not going to wriggle (wiggles his arse) out of a challenge and therefore anyone, in the back, come down here now and you can have these championships from us if we fail to beat you in a 10 minute time limit!" TMM and Mr Pink raced to Slapnutz telling him to shut up, he continued "A draw, no contest or time over result and we'll drop the titles to you! How's that for a challenge. So Fe, Fi, Fo ... and all the shit TMM said. Come and take this shiny object from above my crotch - Owwww!" (Another thrust and a moon walk followed by a spin.) The girls screamed as TMM and Mr Pink raced to Slapnutz to bollock him.... A cold chill came over the arena, TMM and the rest of Splink shivered, The page 3 girls pushed out their chests to show off their nipples and any cats and dogs in the crowd started licking their arses. Music played in the arena "What, they got fucking music!" shouted Slapnutz. It was no wine bar music, it's not a 'One true voice' tune either. No, this one was 98% Hoobastank and 98% "Remember Me". Not 100% because it might have turned out to be "The drugs don't work" by the Verve. Why were they playing Kenny Rocks old music? Slapnutz walked over to TMM and whisperd "Have you hired some gypos to dress up as Kenny Rock and we can beat them up?". TMM turned and shook his head at Slapnutz. It was a mystery! The music stopped... but no other tune started playing, an announcement came over the PA. "No music to listen to here, cutting back on costs, I'd tell you what music should be playing but that would constitutes actually playing the music which would then defy the point in not playing it. For full terms and conditions go to www.hogansbriefs.com". Everyone in the arena shook their heads. TMM just farted and Slapnutz puckered up to the camera like 'The Model' Rick Martell might. WOW! A huge flash and a sharp cold snap which freezed together the lips of that annoying twat in Row Y with the air horn. Stood in the middle of the ring... Is it a bird? Is it a plane? Is it the Ultimate Warrior? NO it was Kenny Rock and .desolate. Where'd that truck come from???? TMM started to cry, Mr Pink did too but Slapnutz hulked up in front of them and challenged them to a pose down. Not surprisingly he got told to fuck off.
Slapnutz went face to face with Kenny Rock. Oh the ultimate cheap shot as Slapnutz poked Kenny in the... hole in his head. Not surprisingly it had no effect at all. Slapnutz looked on in amazement as Kenny Rock himself, started poking the hole in his head. Slapnutz looked for too long and got a right elbow to the throat. He fell into a pathetic hump on the floor as he rolled about struggling for air. .desolate approached TMM, TMM took a look at the hole in his stomach. Now should he punch it because he too might end up rolling on the floor struggling for air like Slapnutz. Do you see? Your first attack in any fight has to connect and if it has no effect on .desolate then TMM is up Slack Alley. After a few moments of deliberating with himself TMM got an elbow to the throat, I guess we'll never find out if a Punch into the stomach wound would have been a good thing. Kenny Rock gave it 'large' to Slapnutz on the other side of the cage, Slapnutz was basically the dog shit on the end of his stick. Ah yes, Kenny Rock and .desolate can't really fight like they used to so they've got to use weapons most of the time. Dunno why, perhaps when they died they got lazy? TMM got off the floor and thought about where to hit .desolate. He'd fallen into this trap once before and got an elbow to the throat for his troubles so he had to get the decision right this time and if that meant taking his time thinking then so be it... WHACK... .desolate made contact with another elbow but this time to the face. They said the elbow is one of the strongest parts of the body, and TMM could probably back that theory up. Kenny Rock mocked Mr Pink, The phrase "dog shit on the end of his stick" was used to describe the way Kenny Rock was treating Slapnutz. Of course Splink Fan(s) will all know that Mr Pink is famous for his "dog muck on a stick" finisher. If it wasn't for Kenny being dead he may just have a legal case on his hands. Slapnutz took more punishment badly, the stick was really doing some damage. The several hundred female Slapnutz fans (They were broadcasting it live on a big TV in Tokyo where hundreds of women were watching) were cringing at this punishment. "Don't hurt his pecker" shouted out one of the Page 3 girls. The sheer pain in Slapnutz' eyes was there for all to be seen as Kenny Rock realised he could take a shot at the old family jewels (Not the tag team) In slow motion he pulled his stick back, time stopped around the world, every woman on gods green earth dreams of sleeping with Sexnutz (He changed his name) and the stick to the pecker might just put him out of action, just when he's at his peak. Remember the film Independence Day when they showed news flashes all around the world talking about the possible destruction of planet earth? Well news stations around the world were cutting live to the feed of perhaps the first and last sex god of the male species being brought down to the standard of mere sex mortals like Tom Jones and Bill Clinton. If the stick connected then it could be all over, the man most likely to serve life for bigamy was about to be cut short. The world held it's breath... down comes the stick... WHAP!!!! Kenny Rock was knocked off his feet, someone had thrown something from the crowd. After a world wide sigh of relief a woman, with only one tit jumped up and down screaming "It was me!". Covered in blood and hysterical she pointed to her chest " I just ripped it open from the bottom and threw an implant at his head". Can you believe it, a women who can actually throw! A security guard picked up what he believed was her implant and took it over to refit it/get a quick feel. He actually picked up Kenny Rock's head but in the sheer exuberance of the moment no one realised, not even the girl who now had Kenny Rock's head as her left tit. It's was a good fit too. Ah, so that's why they can't fight without weapons for the big stuff, they'll fall apart. That's was understandable seeing as they were both dead. Slapnutz... sorry Sexnutz got to his feet and flipped the manly sex sweat off his brow, he flicked his hair back in slow motion as half the female population - all watching this on their televisions - creamed themselves... yes even female tennis players too! TMM went over to Slapnutz "Wow you're so good, I'm glad Splink have you or else we'd always lose, me and Mr Pink suck!" Slapnutz... sorry Sexnutz nodded in agreement and tapped TMM on the back, Slap turned around and attacked .desolate with a flying superkick and piledriver with perfect-plex combo. Just as Slapnutz.. sorry Sexnutz turned around TMM tried to put the lips on him for some reason. Ropey! Tick Tock, watch the clock.... Just 3 minutes remained - that went quick, was the slow motion moment probably. TMM watches on and applauds as Sexnutz - ha, got it right that time - destroys Kenny Rock and .desolate. Sexnutz is just so fucking hot, hang on, need to get a tissue myself... ... ... ..... back, well it looked like there was 90 seconds left (Need to call that help line I think) Slapnutz was now tiring and the Page 3 girls had broken out of their private enclosure and were now around the cage, posing suggestively as they would in their page 3 shoots, it was quite off putting to the fighters - apart from Sexnutz because he issssss sexxxxx- ugggh- ahhhhh. ahem, he is sex. WTF? Twice in a minute! .desolate had taken control of TMM now, Slapnutz was too busy having his photo taken with the girls on the outside. WHACK!!!! Illegal object as Kenny Rock threw his hip at Sexnutz's pecker. A world was broken, Riots broke out across the globe, just as well for Kenny Rock that he was dead. Could they put a dead man on death row? Kenny Rock was loved by tA fans across the world. But when it came down to a straight battle between him and Sexnutz, he didn't have a hip to stand on. Was a pretty good aim for a dead man with no head either. On the subject of Kenny Rock's head, it was still sitting happily down the woman's top, it worked well as a replacement breast if you ignore the teeth. Time ticked on, this was getting pretty urgent now. Mr Pink came in to help, he jumped from the cage onto Kenny Rock, knocking his body from his legs. Mr Pink got a leg and threw it out of the cage, TMM got the other and did the same. Finally TMM picked up his arms and body and threw them out. Mr Pink noticing a finger fell off threw that out too. 1 down, 1 to go... in 40 seconds. They'd never do it unless Sexnutz could stop looking so darn sexy and get on with fighting... man he looked sexy doing that too. Was there anything this talented figther/wrestler/sex god can't do? It was 3-on-1 as TMM, Mr Pink and Sexnutz crowded around .desolate. It shouldn't have taken two men and a sex monster to beat a dead man but no mercy is a phrase that best describes Splink... I mean Sexnutz, TMM, Mr Pink and the rest just do as they are told. Half a minute remained as .desolate whipped out a hammer and twatted the hell out of Mr Pink. TMM and Sexnutz took a step back, where'd that come from? .desolate, knowing he'd nothing to lose, put some shelves up on Mr Pink. Sexnutz pushed TMM onto .desolate - Oh how brave of Sexnutz! - TMM took a hammer shot to the foot before managing to kick it from him with his other foot. TMM punched .desolate once in the head and grabbed his arms. Sexnutz did a little 'booty wiggle' and grabbed his legs. The crowd knew what was coming... actually that was most of them when Sexnutz bent over but never mind that, It's a leg and a wing! With 19 seconds on the clock "A leg and a wing to see the king a 1... 2....3!" Sexnutz and TMM threw .desolate... Oh the ultimate swerve! His arms and legs fell off and his body crashed against the wall of the cage and broke into a thousand pieces. "OH SHIT" screamed Sexnutz. They looked at up at the clock, it read 14 seconds. TMM and Sexnutz quickly threw the arms and legs they were holding out of the cage but they had to get the rest of him out before the time runs out or else we had new team champions! They raced to the side and started throwing pieces out but the more they tried the more he broke up. 10... 9... 8... Sexnutz had an idea... 7... It was a shit one so he carried on thinking.... 6... 5... TMM had an idea but it'd be shit because Sexnutz was the god here so they carried on.... 4... Sexnutz got another idea. He jumped up and in 1 second put over a message for everyone around the world to suck in the direction of the arena as if they were giving him a blow job. Errr. 3... Storms rocked the world, mountains fell, seas parted, buildings collapsed, it was the end of the world as we know it. 2... The roof was sucked off the arena but thankfully the walls remained, with the pressure all on .desolate bodily parts flew out of the cage.. apart from one! 1... His ear is stuck
in the cage!!! .desolate and Kenny Rock were the new team champions! So Asia, Australia, Africa, South America, Canada and France were all underwater, Ireland was where Greece used to be and Greece was where Malta used to be, mountains were no more, millions were dead. Big fucking deal because the real disaster was Splink losing their tag titles to dead people! Good old Sexnutz, He'd find a way to repair the world no doubt. The people in the arena crowned him their new god and the woman with Kenny Rock's head for a breast was the first to jump into Sexnutz' manly grasp. Oh Sexnutz you are our saviour... but the fact remains we have NEW tag team champions, Sexnutz was the winner in the peoples eyes and .desolate and Kenny Rock couldn't celebrate their win because they were in thousands of pieces and dead... Oh what a mess. Can't wait for the rematch! The chant starts... SEXNUTZ SEXNUTZ SEXNUTZ "No, his arm fell off, sorry lady you're a munter and I don't do super models, I don't care if you're Kelly Brook, you can just Fook off" - Wake Up Slap, you've been dreaming. "No, we lost, no... no... eh?" Slapnutz opened his eyes to the vista of Mr Pink slapping him across the face and TMM recording his embarrassing moment of waking up on a camcorder. "Slappy, you fell asleep during the new 'Best of TMM' DVD. You've been having a dream" Mr Pink said, his face close to Slapnutz. "Did you just slap me, shouldn't you be showing more respect to Sexnutz? But we lost our tag titles to .desolate and Kenny Rock, it was all your fault TMM". TMM did some wonderful panning shots of Slapnutz talking bollocks as Mr Pink laughs "Oh no, you've dreamt it all up". Slapnutz woke up properly, "What a horrible dream, we almost lost the tag titles to Kenny Rock and .desolate after I said if we can't beat them in 10 mins they can have the titles and they all fell apart and we couldn't find all the bits to throw out and then I got the world, who love me to suck me off and they sucked the bits out of the cage but his ear..." TMM was laughing in the background as Mr Pink reassured Slappy "Calm down Slapnutz, It's only a dream, you're really still tag champions" "Oh thank god, it was so bad Mr Pink, there was body parts everywhere and we looked and looked for an ear but we couldn't fine it ANYWHERE and when we did it was too late" "Calm Down!" TMM got closer with the camera, a perfect mocking opportunity to use as blackmail in the future. Slapnutz picked himself up and washed his face before going out to get some fresh air. In the room next door was the Lesbian dance act '2Dyke'. They were stood outside their room, basically practicing the splits and putting their legs over their heads. Slapnutz winked at one, he just got a shrug back. Slapnutz being ultra confident went up to one who had her right leg over her head and left arm tangled in that. "Hey Lesbo, you're in a bit of a tangle, you know a sex god like me could straighten you out in no time!" The woman brought down her leg to do an axe kick on Slaps head as he went to get a mouth full of muff. "Loser" she shouted as she left with her fellow lesbians and Slapnutz lay on the floor with a bloody nose. "Ah fuck, I dreamed all that up too. Dreams suck". Winner: Good Question
Is it back? "Well, I have gathered you all here to discuss some business of sorts.." Joe Campbell paused to take a swig from his Jose Cuervo bottle; placing it back onto the floor. Osyrus was in one corner of the office; Dez was near Joe's side in the dark corner, where he always loomed... And Thanh Vactor stood behind one of the chairs in front of Joe's desk... rubbing his head. "What a wuss. Still rubbing on your head after I fucked you up? Take it like a man damnit.. and try to pay attention." Osyrus snarled as he smirked at Campbell, who loved the hatred exchange. Thanh broke character, glaring evilly at the man he battle earlier in the night. "Enough. I have brought you here to tell you what my decision is for the outcome of the Bodyguard match... I was very impressed with what I saw out there. Both of you; Osyrus and Vactor. You showed me that you would decapitate any man just to prove your superiority... And will to fight." Campbell paused as he rose out of his seat, he walked around to the front of the desk.. He stood in front of both competitors as he put his arms on each of their shoulders. "... I have decided to keep you both on as my new bodyguards. Hell, we need some etra muscle around here, and with the two of you.. I don't think anyone would be stupid enough to fucking cross me. Especially Kinkade!" Joe shuttered with the mere mentioning of that name. "You want to keep HIM as your body guard too? After such a lame performance.. you want to keep china man? Why?!!" Hysteria evident in Osyrus' voice as he ran over to Thanh .. Joe Campbell stood between the two trying to separate them, before he reached for his trusty pistol. First Thanh, then Osyrus.. they both slowly stepped back. Osy smirked as if he wasn't afraid by the mere gun that Campbell held, but he didn't want to take his chances as well. "A lame performance, didn't he beat you out there?" Dez chimed in, as he shot a smirk at Osyrus who didn't like to be reminded when he lost. Vactor smiled in a cocky fashion as he leaned against the wall that Dez was near. Joe had walked back around, taking another drink as he placed the large tequila bottle on the desk... "All that matter boys is the team is back together. The team is back together!" Throwing his arms into the air triumphantly. The three body looked at one another; no man thought that he could trust the other... but what had Campbell reformed? Was he bringing back an all new alliance to defend the Asylum? Only time would tell.
Cornelius Corteia had a goal, he wanted to take down the Asylum along with Joe Campbell. Many times during his three year tenure, he was screwed manipulated, and everything in between, by Campbell. He worked without a contract, he lost a finger to Campbell. Things hit a point where he wanted to change things, he had a kindred spirit in Eddie Cheno, he knew that Cheno hated Campbell, so he went and told Eddie Cheno the whole premise of getting rid of Campbell. What he didn’t know, stabbed him in the back, with his own knife.. As Cheno turned around and told Campbell, Carnage found himself kicked out of the Asylum until he returned and beat Eddie Cheno for the Television Title. The two had a resentment towards each other for the months in between, and finally Cheno stepped up like a man hoping to squash beef, only moments after the lights in Carnage’s locker room blacked out the TV champion was brutalized…. And his title was gone, and he hasn’t seen it since. In his search for suspects it lead him to one person.. The person he won the title from, the person who last saw him with the title.. Eddie Cheno.. “Smoke Two Joints” by Sublime blared over the PA system and the crowd went absolutely bananas as Eddie Cheno marched out to the ring playing to the loving crowd. He was their everyman Superman, they could relate to him, and he could fit along with the rest of them. Cheno made mistakes, big mistakes in the world of Asylum and yet here he was fighting for the chance to be a two-time Television champion. He was always a fan-favorite and he knew that most likely his last day in the Asylum, he’d be one. “Adrenaline Rush” by Twista, and out ran Carnage no title at his waist by he was announced as the champion. The crowd like Carnage not for him being the victim on many occasions, but instead for one reason.. His lack of sanity. Carnage leapt over the cage, and at once met Cheno in the ring and the crowd went nuts as the two traded blows in the center of the ring. Carnage went for a right hook but Cheno, jumped back dodging it and instead nailed a left cross to the body, followed by a right to the face, and then a left uppercut! Carnage was rocked backwards and he crashed into the cage. Cheno charged in for a clothesline but Carnage sprung forward ducking, and went behind and nailed Cheno with a ring shaking German suplex! Carnage jumped to his feet, but simultaneously Cheno was up and he scooped Carnage’s legs from under him, causing the champ to fall down to the mat. Cheno hooked onto Carnage’s legs, and fell back catapulting Carnage up sending him crashing into the rim! Cheno charged in for a splash.. *CRASH!* But no one was home, as Carnage moved out of the way. Carnage locked onto Cheno’s waist for a second time in the match, and lifted for another German suplex, but this time Cheno blocked. Carnage tried again, only to receive a harsh mule kick! Reaching back Cheno grabbed onto Carnage’s head and went for a bulldog.. But instead Carnage lifted him up, Cheno nailed a back elbow, and then another. Carnage hoists Cheno up on his shoulders, but the former champ slides right down Carnage’s back. Edward reaches his hand deep into the hair of Carnage and charges forward slamming his head into the cage rim. Cheno picked up the head of Carnage which was now dripping blood from his nose, and he sat it under his armpit.. Inverted DDT! Carnage was down and the ref began his count.. 1... 2... 3... And the champion without a title, stood back up, the two charged to the middle of the ring and grappled showing a strength he never had Carnage shoved Cheno across the ring and into the cage. The Crazy Corteia charged in only to be met with a boot to jaw busting the champ’s mouth open. Corteia’s head came back down and he looked right at Cheno, opening his mouth allowing the blood to drip, and he charged.. Clothesline by Cheno!.. No Carnage ducked under, and reached behind and nailed a Hangman’s neck breaker! Carnage mounted himself onto Cheno’s face, and began tearing into Cheno with a fury of fists to the face, each blow was echoed by the blue haired former champion’s head pounding off the mat, busting open the nose of Cheno. Carnage stood to his feet and charged to the cage wall, spring boarded off the rim.. But missed the Asai moonsault! Slowly Cheno pulled himself to his feet, and watched as Carnage was getting up with one pull back, Cheno sent a boot so hard into the side of Cornelius Corteia, it seemed like he was trying to get the black off of him. But Cheno didn’t stop, as the blue haired man, continued with a boot, then another and another, each blow causing the champion to slither away. Edward yanked Carnage to his feet, and nailed the DDT! 1.. 2.. 3.. And once again after three Carnage was back up on his feet, Cheno charged forward with a clothesline but it was ducked by Carnage. Cheno charged back around, and this time he ran right into a drop toehold! Carnage stood and quickly spun the opportunity into a web known by wrestling fans around the world as the Figure Four. The problem was, as Carnage wrenched harder and harder leaving Cheno in agony, this isn’t what the fans wanted. They wanted a brawl, they wanted Asylum action, especially when it came to this war between two of their favorite fighters. Cheno tried using all his force to flip the hold over, but as soon as he tried to counter, Carnage countered the counter. The moment Carnage broke the hold, the crowd began to cheer, he lifted his boot and jumped down on Cheno’s right knee! Cheno bounced on the mat as he held his knee in agony. Carnage gripped a handful of blue as he brought Cheno to his feet, gripping him by the side he lifted him and slammed Cheno hard by the knees on the rim, hanging him in the Tree of Woe. Carnage went to the side and demanded a chair, as soon as he asked he received. See how easy things come when you’re kind? Carnage grabbed the chair and rounded the ring charging towards Cheno screaming.. BASEBALL SLIDE WITH THE CHAIR… … Hits the cage wall? Using his leg strength, the former boxer pulled himself to a sit on the rim, Carnage was back on his feet, and he held the chair hard and swung.. But barely missed Cheno as Edward jumped down to the apron, the chair clattered off of the rim, Cheno took the opening and nailed Carnage with a hard right to the face. Carnage wouldn’t release the chair, and Cheno again had the advantage, as he narrowly held his balance on the apron, by grabbing Carnage’s head and slamming it hard into the rim sending the champion of TV sets tuned to the Asylum stumbling backwards. Cheno climbed up onto the rim, wincing in slight pain, and leapt in the air.. CLOTHESLINE… *CRACK~!* Cheno fell down to the mat after a horrendous facial shot by Carnage with the chair. But the champion wasn’t done as he lifted the chair, and repeatedly put his original act on a loop, as he pounded the chair into the head of Cheno. Carnage flipped the Cheno over and unfolded the chair placing it on Cheno’s back. Carnage sat down on the seat with the back touching his stomach, the crowd watched curious on what he was doing, and they watch Carnage reach to the side and grab Cheno’s right leg. Carnage hyper extends the knee over the blunt end of the chair as he leans back forcing it across the rounded part of the top, Cheno screamed so loudly in pain, the ref was forced to ask if he submitted. Cheno’s face grew red as he shook his head no, while he struggled to breathe with the 225 pounds of Carnage on his back, and his knee going through pain. “NO! I AIN’T BE FUNKEN QUITTIN MANG!~” Cheno pushed down with both hands, and in perhaps the most important pushup in his time in tA, Cheno caused a landslide which sent Carnage and the chair to fall off of him. Corteia was right back on his feet, as he looked down on Cheno who struggled to get up.. 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... The ref halted his count before it could reach seven, Cheno felt like he had one true leg, his left leg, the right leg was phantom he couldn’t put any pressure on or he’d fall, he could feel it but he couldn’t use it. This would be fun. Carnage snapped the chair shut, and threw it down towards the mat. Cheno eyed him as he stood in the center of the ring, Carnage began to circle around the ring eyeing his prey. Carnage flew forward and swung a haymaker left towards the head of Cheno, the challenger ducked his head right into the way of a head turning right from Carnage! He stumbled back almost losing his balance as he stepped back, his fall only broken by the cage wall that remained behind him. Carnage stood across the ring and did something no one thought he was capable of.. Handspring elbow.. Only the move wasn’t completed as Cheno locked onto his waist before the elbow could connect. Lacking strength in his right knee, Cheno sat Carnage’s feet on the mat to get more force from the suplex attempted. But as he lifted Carnage nailed him with a head butt to the face blurring his vision. Carnage then followed by ripping his way through the grasp of Cheno, and in one move.. *SLASH~!* Cheno’s shirt fell from his body, as a huge cut appeared in his skin from his shoulder in the abdomen. The crowd screamed in blood lust at the moment. Cheno cringed at the pain, but as Carnage neared for a stabbing, Cheno geared both hands up and shoved Carnage in the chest backing him.. Carnage charged back.. CLEARIN‘ DA FUNKEN TABLE~! The roundhouse uppercut sent the champ flying backwards, as Cheno staggered in heavy pain as he watched Carnage drop to the mat. 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... Eight?! Nope, this time Carnage was up slower than before, as he held his head trying to steady his little spinning world that rested in his head. This his right hand slid down and touched the monsoon of blood that was exiting his mouth, he breathed calmly and spat a tooth out onto the mat, Carnage’s eyes focused as he stared at Cheno who was slowly making his way towards him. Like a gunshot, Carnage quickly popped up and charged forward with an attack for Cheno’s knee, but Cheno barely avoided the shoulder block to the knee. Carnage wrapped his hands around the waist of Cheno and attempted to backdrop the challenger, but with a grab of the nearby Asylum rim, Cheno vetoed the attempt. Clenching his hands tight together Cheno began to slam repeated double axe handles onto the back on Carnage, each one breaking his resistance. Carnage unknowingly released his grasp, and was shoved back by Cheno, Cheno went for a roundhouse right but Carnage ducked and nailed Cheno with a powerful side suplex! The crowd roared in approval as Carnage snatched up the steel chair, and propped himself up onto the rim, the crowd rose to their feet in excitement to see what was going to happen next.. 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... Cheno was up to his feet, and a portion of the crowd was up cheering in support of their hero as he crouched pushing himself up on his raw right knee. Carnage began to run on the rim, gaining momentum, he jumped showing a balance and gracefulness he never had in his life, as he stopped on a dime and leaped landing on another portion of the rim, only to springboard off… *CRRRAAAAAAACCCKKK~!! 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7.. 8... 9... 10!~ Ah damn sorry, jumped the gun on that one. Cheno got back to his feet slowly as the Cheno diehards in the crowd who supported him his whole time here, roared in approval. Cheno pounded the mat as he got to his feet, and he watched as Carnage broke towards him again, but Cheno sidestepped the potential attack grabbing Carnage by the head and bulldogging him onto the chair! Cheno sat up and looked across the ring and saw Carnage’s knife sitting there, sparkling in the ring lights, like a great treasure. He tried pushing the thought back, but his eyes kept going back to it, and slowly Cheno crawled, and then he stumbled and finally he yanked the knife up from the mat. But as soon as he attained the treasure, he dropped it as he was gripped up by Carnage into a Cobra Clutch. But the hold was halted by a sharp mule kick from the contender. Cheno reversed positions lifted and slammed Carnage with a Wheelbarrow Powerbomb! Cheno darted as fast as he could across the ring, and he gripped up the chair, but by the time he was back over to Carnage he was nailed with a Spear!~ Carnage stood up to his feet snatching the chair from Cheno and jabbed the chair like malpractice practicing surgeon into the knee of Cheno. Carnage tossed the chair to the side, and gripped up his knife and stopped as he stared the blade in it’s “eye”. He wiped his arm across his head clearing a bloody downpour. He reached into his pocket and grabbed some electrical tape and began to tape the knife to his elbow, so it pointed down, passing the point of his elbow. Carnage grabbed a hold of the almost fluorescent afro of Cheno, and pulled him to his feet.. SNAP GERMAN SUPLEX! AND ANOTHER.. AND ANOTHER… AND ANOTHER… AND ANOTHER… And on the final German suplex Carnage released sending Cheno flying towards the middle of the ring. The ref ran to start to make the count, but he halted the moment Carnage mounted the Asylum rim, and just they saw the thought pattern of Carnage. He wanted his title back, and he knew there was one way he was going to get it back, he had to beat Cheno because Cheno had it. He patted the black tape on his elbow, and as soon as he got up, he was flying off with the second half of Maximum Carnage…~! Fans covered their eyes as Carnage floated in the air.. *POP!* Many members of the crowd uncovered their eyes as they looked to see what the sound came from, but as they looked they saw Carnage screaming as he attempted to yank his elbow from the ring, and Eddie Cheno using the cage wall as a crutch to hold him up. Cheno gingerly strolled up and sent a boot to the face of Carnage rocking the crouching fighter back, as he attempted to yank the knife out of it’s prison. Knee to the face by Cheno, and just like that Carnage was freed. Carnage rocked backwards as he struggled to stand, he geared up and went for a 360 elbow with his knife, but Cheno dodged and grabbed the Crazy Corteia by the waist.. BACKDROP DRIVER~! Cheno using the mesh of the cage, brought himself up to his feet breathed heavily as he looked at the body of Cornelius Corteia, he was out, he had to be finished, but Cheno knew logic never prevailed with Carnage. The count started again, but Cheno suddenly had a rush of reason come through him, he had to end this off the right way, he couldn’t let Carnage rest for nine seconds on something that wouldn’t finish him off. Cheno grabbed Carnage by the back of the head and thrust him towards the cage wall, slamming him into it! Cheno was now up on the rim fumbling his steps as he gripped onto Carnage’s head to lift him up.. SUCKS TO BE YOU~! But Cheno lost his footing as he tried to put added pressure on his right leg, crotching himself on the rim and sending Carnage crashing down on the mat head first! Yes, it still sucked, but now it sucked for both of them. 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10?! Not again! Carnage was in a drunken mode as he grasped the rim lifting himself up onto it. Cheno still feeling the pain below the equator, try to meet Carnage up. And both men stood in the tiny sliver of reality that rested between victory and defeat, between loser and champion, between making Fight Hell history, and being another footnote in the three year history of the brutal fighting history. As if evaluating the whole situation they stared at one another fists clenching In another reality both these two would be best friends, tA Team Champs, the two share more in common than most people on the roster, but simple moves on the Chess board of life dictated everything up to and including this match. There was no predetermined move order, they had to decide on their own. Carnage charged forward and nailed a right on Cheno, and Cheno retaliated with a left, overhand left by Carnage was barely avoided by Cheno who grabbed onto the smaller fighter’s body and threw him into the air and nailed… SUCKS TO BE YOU~! And this time he didn’t botch it, and the crowd went ballistic, as Carnage’s head was spiked off the cage rim! Everyone in attendance seemed to chant for Eddie, it wasn’t as if they cared who won, but they were going to throw their support behind the winner, Cheno hopped down into the ring listening to the count.. 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10..! Cheno clenched his fists and went towards Carnage, but the ref stopped him, he didn’t understand why. Until he heard the bell ringing, he won. The match was over. But instead of celebrating the victory of his title, Cheno would soon have other issues to deal with. Winner and NEW T.V. Champion: Eddie Cheno via Knockout
Finale. Cheno stumbled inside the cage wall, falling to his knees but raising his hands as if he were Rocky. The official had climbed into the cage but couldn't award him the actual title belt itself. Whatever the case, Cheno was champion, and Carnage wasn't. But the dispute couldn't be resolved without the former champion handing over his prize to the current champion, and both men knew this. They both climbed to their feet, broken, beaten, shattered… … and heard the melody of an all too familiar theme song. "Smack my Bitch up" by Prodigy, and if you couldn't guess who was exiting the backstage area, you haven't been watching enough Asylum. But what he carried in tow was what made the crowd gasp. Joe Campbell, the owner of the Asylum, the owner of everything that skull stands for, calmly walked out from the backstage area, carrying over his shoulders the Television Championship. He walked down to the ring with a cocky grin as this was all a formality. He was riding high right now, and he hoped that the entire day would go preciously like it has. Whatever the case, his boy, his fighter, his weapon had defeated Carnage. Joe climbed into the Asylum cage, microphone and television title in hand. He handed the belt to a confused Cheno, as Carnage took in the entire situation. He was still blaming Eddie, but when he saw the look in Cheno's eyes… "Come on Eddie! Fuck mang," Campbell said, mocking Eddie a small bit as he spoke. "I knew you could do it Eddie, I knew, but I had to KNOW." Cheno's eyes narrowed, his head jerked back a small bit as he dripped blood on the Asylum's canvas. "Eddie, this fucking belt should have been yours all along. He may have been called the fucking champion, but that sick sadistic LUNATIC fuck wasn't one. He may have represented the word, but you ARE the word. And you proved it tonight." Joe said, pointing down to the television title. "Congrat-u-fucking-lations." Eddie ripped the microphone out of Joe's hands, which shocked Joe a bit. Carnage stood there, waiting to pounce on both men if need be. Always prepared. "Funk…" Eddie said to a chorus of cheers as he threw the television title over his shoulder. "Wat yer funken sayin' mang, be dat ya made dis funken shiznit happen?" Eddie looked over to Carnage. "Wat, ya funken starded dat grudge yo 'gainst us? Ya funken stole his funken title?!?" he said, pointing to the title that now rested on his own shoulders. "It was just a test Eddie. Just a fucken test to see if I could fucken trust your ass." Joe's eyes narrowed. "We had a lot of fucken shit between us Eddie, and I had to fucking know that was fucking behind us." Eddie stood there, taking the television title off of his shoulders and holding it in his hands. He stood there for a moment, looking at his own reflection inside the glistening gold. The man that he had become. "Wat bout da files mang?" Eddie said, screaming at this point into Joe's face. "Eh mang? Wat da funk be dat shiznit. Ya send me ta some funken vacant locale mang, and dere be dis book dat be like it from me. How much of dat be true? How much ya funken know 'bout me mang?!" "Every word." Joe said. "Every fucking word." Cheno sighed, pulling away from Campbell. "Den, ya know," Cheno tossed the television title over to Carnage, who caught it on instincts. "I ain't like bein' FUCKED wit." Clearin' da funken table. Knocking Joe Campbell CLEAR out of the Asylum cage, over the top and crumpling him down on the ground outside. Cheno stared through the cold metallic bars, as Joe recovered to his feet slowly, holding his mouth in agony. He backed up quietly, the fans cheering Cheno on as Campbell simply returned backstage, a raging inferno inside. Cheno turned around, and there Carnage stood, holding the television title in his hand. There they stood, each with a scowl on their face as they stared hard into one another's eyes. That's when Carnage did something that shocked everyone. He calmly handed the title back to Eddie. Cheno told Carnage to grab one end and, they did, before raising it up between them to the cheering crowd. They may not be the best of friends, but they had finally found common ground.
Bah. "I fucking knew it was you." Tyler Burton paced towards Borst as the Englishman held a finger up to his lips and simply replied with "Shh." "So what's going on? I saw you in the crowd and thought we were gonna do the whole you try to shoot and or kill me thing again." The Inmate continued as Borst looked him in the eye this time. "SHH." Inmate took in Borst's request and whispered more quietly as the two peered out into the arena from behind the video wall area. "So what's going on?" Inmate whispered "Why are you here? And more importantly why are we whispering... you trying to lure some of Joe's roster away or something." "Yeah." Borst whispered back "But be quiet." Tyler shrugged "What for?" Borst turned to face The Inmate and held out his hand. "Pull my finger." He whispered. "That's why were being quiet!?" Inmate exclaimed breaking the quiet tone "Jesus man, so are you really going to tell me what you're doing or am I going to have to pull your finger first?" "Nah." Borst began "You've ruined the surprise now, not to worry... plenty of other thick yanks that I can try it on." "I'm Canadian, you've known me for how long?" Tyler replied with a sigh "So come on... why are you here?" "I'm in the main event... I'm the fWQuo bloke that gimp was on about earlier." Borst grunted back. "Gimp? Oh... Kinkade! So you're really gonna contribute to the downfall of this place afterall... kind of ironic don't you think." Borst remained silent. "Shouldn't you be out there? Match is about to start and I'm guessing it's going to quite literally be Kinkade versus the rest of the world when he gets out there... you'd better go and help him." Borst sighed "Nah... he's a cock."
And so it began. Immortal and
Asylum championships... both hoisted high above the Asylum in the match
with quite literally everything on the line. For Kellen Kinkade,
Steve Christ, Dez Aragon, Token Weed and Pete Borst was the opportunity
to walk away with whatever title they could lay their hands upon but as
if the title's weren't motivation enough... Joe Campbell had foolishly
implemented more. The greatest irony
was that regardless of Joe's efforts, Kellen Kinkade had not come back
to the Asylum with Campbell's gamble in mind. Instead he'd
returned to reclaim his Immortal title and hopefully put to an end the
constant interventions that Token Weed had been arriving on fWo
television to participate in. Thanks to Joe the
entire future of the Asylum was now hanging twenty feet above the ring,
if Kellen Kinkade could grab the Asylum championship he could close the
promotion for good. That was the extra incentive for the Asylum
fighters involved, they weren't just fighting for a belt... they were
fighting for their jobs. "You built
me up with your wishing hell Marilyn Manson's
"Antichrist Superstar" hit the the arena exploded as the first
of the six fighters made his way out from behind the curtain and down
the aisle. Steve Christ was just as ready as the others to take
part in a battle for the promotion to which he'd given more than his
fair share of blood, Christ had taken the recently abandoned Extreme
division to all new bloody levels in what'd been over a year with the
promotion. Now was the time if any to bring his resilience to the
big stage. As Christ reached
the Asylum and threw out his arms in a crucifix pose to another huge
roar from the crowd his music faded out to be replaced by that of the
second man to arrive on the scene. "It's the
darkest place "Fiend"
by Coal Chamber marked the arrival of a man to whom the music certainly
fitted in recent weeks. Dez Aragon had been largely blamed for
losing the Asylum championship to Kellen Kinkade at Turmoil, his poorly
aimed gunshot took the Freak out of the equation and allowed The Jersey
Devil to walk away with the big prize. Dez made his way
down to the Asylum with the sounds of uncertainty all around him...
whilst the crowd had grown to love him during the era where Campbell was
their hero both he and the Asylum owner were now the subject of very
little crowd support. Aragon made a
quick check on the ladder that stood in the aisleway before continuing
down to the Asylum as the next music kicked in. "Raised on
a strip called here brotha hill "4 Alarm
Blaze" by M.O.P hit and the crowd rose to their feet as Ty Hughes
made his way down the aisle, wasting no time in walking directly under
the ladder... perhaps to bring on any potential bad luck early in the
fight so that it wouldn't effect him trying to take the gold at the
end. He stared up almost enchanted by the Asylum championship... a
belt that'd evaded him for his entire career. Almost on purpose
the next song kicked in before Hughes could reach the Asylum. "I'm the
man "Halo"
by Soil had the crowd cheering insanely as Token Weed burst through the
curtain and ran down the aisle. Token swiftly climbed up the large
ladder that was erected in the aisle and sat atop of it as if to
illustrate just how quickly and easily he was going to climb to victory. As the rest of his
accomplices stood in the Asylum watched on he flashed them all the
double bird, as though to suggest that neither of them really deserved
to be in a match that he had done all the work to secure. But as Token
taunted his fellow Asylum members he failed to see a figure leap the
guard rail from behind and place two hands on the ladder... shoving it
over toward the Asylum. The crowd exploded with boos as Kellen
Kinkade toppled the ladder and sent Token flying over the Asylum rim and
into the rest of the fighters, knocking them all over. Furiously everyone
in the Asylum struggled to their feet as Token prepared to jump the rim
and beat the snot out of Kinkade who'd acquired a microphone and was now
holding out a delaying hand. "Easy
now." Kinkade said smugly "I know you all can't wait to get a
piece of me, especially after I just used pothead there as a bowling
ball on you." Kinkade pointed up
at Token who climbed half way out of the cage. "Wait!"
Kinkade cried "But as I was about to say, four against one seems a
little unfair to me so in league with something that Sean and I agreed
to earlier in the night... please give a warm welcome to the fWo
superstar that will also be taking part in this match... ...PETE BORST!"
The crowd exploded as Kinkade roared out the name of the former four
time Asylum champion and "Fuckin' In The Bushes" by Oasis
sparked up. Kinkade folded his
arms cockily at the bottom of the aisleway as the music continued to
blast through the speakers... but in the Asylum the four fighters
appeared to be holding some form of discussion. Token stepped
forward and smiled. "You might
want to double check on that, shitface." Token spoke down to
Kinkade who turned to see nothing... no Borst coming down the aisle to
help him. THWACK. Kinkade turned
back straight into the fist of Token Weed who'd jumped the Asylum rim
and finally taken the chance to do what he'd been bottling up for a long
time, crack Kinkade in the mouth when it really mattered. The bout
took an immediately grim shape for The Jersey Devil as Steve Christ, Ty
Hughes and Dez Aragon all followed suit and climbed out of the Asylum to
join the attack. A stunning blow
from Ty Hughes sent Kinkade reeling, back to the rampway Kinkade crawled
slowly backwards pleading with the Asylum quartet to give him a
chance. He quickly tried to roll over and run but was trippled by
Steve Christ as he attempted to do so. Christ, Hughes and
Token Weed continued to tear into Kinkade with damaging punches and
kicks as he tried to stand. Meanwhile Dez Aragon slowly folded the
large ladder shut and held it horizontally across his body. Kinkade managed to
shove the three fighters pounding away it him, before squirming through
them and getting to his feet in a dazed state to stagger back toward the
Asylum. Little did he realize that Dez Aragon had been measuring
him up for a good shot with the ladder, Aragon rushed at Kinkade but the
Immortal and Asylum champion ducked under the ladder. This didn't
stop the momentum however as Dez tried to slam on the breaks but ended
up sending the ladder right into the bodies of the oncoming Token,
Christ and Hughes! The big impact
knocked all three down before staggering Dez backwards and tripping him
to the floor. Kinkade reached the Asylum and clambered up the
steps before slumping over the Asylum rim to catch a breather.
Meanwhile in the aisle Dez Aragon recovered picking up the ladder and
flipping his hair out of his face... ...to reveal just
for a split second, an earpiece. Dez had some kind
of earpiece in place and was evidently being spoken to by someone, Joe
Campbell perhaps. "Quickly!"
The voice buzzed in Aragon's ear "Get that damned ladder into the
Asylum." Perhaps it was
Campbell, it seemed like the logical answer for Joe to survey the match
and give Dez tips and pointers on where Aragon could be getting tips
from. Dez arrived at the Asylum just as Kinkade slumped over the
rim and into it, Aragon dumped the ladder over and into the Asylum. "Now get a
chair, we need to make sure." The voice buzzed again in his ear
again as Dez made his way around to the announce area to snap up a steel
chair that'd surely put an end to Kinkade who was staggering back to a
vertical base in the Asylum. Dez made his way
back around to the Asylum door before the voice in his ear arrived once
again... this time with a more urgent "LOOK OUT!" SMACK. SMACK. The crowd sat in
silent shock, because Dez Aragon had just beheaded two of his Asylum
compatriots, Steve Christ and Ty Hughes as they came down the aisle and
back toward the Asylum. "Good!"
The voice said now excitedly "Now get in there and get Kinkade
up that ladder!" And then it all
began to make perfect sense, Dez Aragon wasn't a bad aim with a gun...
in fact he'd aimed perfectly when he shot The Freak in the leg at
Turmoil to guarantee that Kinkade would walk away with the Asylum
championship. Dez Aragon was
working for someone else. Aragon tossed his
chair up into the Asylum and grabbed the ladder... setting it
immediately in the middle of the structure right beneath the two belts
hanging high above. Dez grabbed the still dazed Kinkade and simply
dragged him over to the foot of the ladder, prompting the start of
Kinkade's climb. The crowd had
started to boo insanely at the huge screwjob unfolding before them as
the earpiece Dez was wearing crackled into action again. "Here comes
Token, take him out!" The voice warned. Dez lifted his
chair back up just in time to catch Token arriving in the Asylum, Weed
had held back from Christ and Hughes and had seen the entire situation
unfold. He now knew that Dez Aragon wasn't playing for the tA team
and it worked to his advantage as he ducked Aragon's huge chair swing! As Dez turned back
he was met by a stinging kick to the thigh from Token that immediately
had him limping one one leg, perfect to keep him in the same spot for... CRACK! A spinning
backhand punch from Token that cannoned the chair into Aragon's face and
sent him tumbling to the canvas with his earpiece crackling over and
over with "SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!" Token looked up to
see Kinkade almost reaching the top of the ladder, a problem that was
quickly ammended as Token gave the crowd another thing to cheer for as
he leapt into the air and hit the ladde with a solid Pump Kick...
toppling it over... ...causing Kinkade
to land rib first across the Asylum from at least ten feet in the air. "Holy Shit!
Holy Shit!" The crowed exclaimed as Kinkade landed hard on the rim
before falling over to the concrete floor outside. Token surveyed
his surroundings before picking up the ladder and planting it firmly in
the middle of the canvas. As he began his
climb the earpiece Dez was wearing continued to crackle. "Get up Dez...
GET UP!" The voice screamed "Token is going to win it!" Dazed... Aragon
pushed himself up with blood now trickling down his head from where
Token had knocked the chair into it. He took a grip on the ladder
and slowly started to persue Token up the same side. "Do
anything... grab his ankle, just don't let him grab that belt!" The
voice in his ear screamed as he grew nearer to Token and took a grab at
his ankle. "Shit!"
The voice in his ear exclaimed as Token replied by firmly kicking him
between the eyes, almost knocking Dez from the ladder. "Damn it Dez...
grab him! grab him! grab hi-" The voice continued before suddenly
being cut off. Dez finally caught
ahold of Token's leg and clung on for dear life, refusing to let him
climb any closer to the belts. "Hello Dez."
A new voice said through his earpiece as a look of concern suddenly came
over the face of Dez "I bet you weren't expecting to hear from me
this soon, but you know what they say. You can't keep a good man
down, especially if the bullet only clips him." Dez stared
frantically out into the crowd. "You won't
see me Dez... and it's too late for this guy to warn you about where I
am. I presume he's working for the fWo in a bid to close this
promotion down? It's sad really Dez... Joe trusted you and this is how
you repay him." "He treated
me like shit!" Dez screamed out furiously, something that confused
the crowd because he appeared to be talking to himself. "You should
be thankful for that." The new voice replied "Because I'm not
going to treat you that well, you're fWo friend here is unconscious and
now it's time to pay the price for your treachery." Suddenly Aragon's
earpiece went dead and the crowd started to erupt... at the sight of a
certain individual pushing his way to the front and clambering over the
guard rail. The Freak. For the first time
since Turmoil Brian Fenn-Grail clambered over the Asylum rim and into
the eyes of the thousands in attendance and the millions watching in
home. Not even carrying a limp from the gunshot wound he'd
received at the hands of Dez he marched over to the ladder where Dez and
Token were still struggling before giving it a huge shove... showing
little concern for either man atop of it. The ladder toppled
and soon "Holy Shit! Holy Shit!" echoed through the arena over
and over again. The ladder had fallen right over the Asylum rim,
sending Token Weed into the front row of the crowd with an absolutely
horrendous clatter and sending Dez Aragon crashing to the cold arena
floor with a sick thud. The Freak wasn't
going to give Dez any chance at recovery however, he quickly snatched
him up by the hair and tore out the earpiece that he was wearing.
Holding it high for everyone to see The Freak dragged the unconscious
Dez up the aisle before throwing the earpiece off the ramp... ...before shortly
sending Dez down after it. "Holy Shit!
Holy Shit!" Continued to echo as Dez Aragon crashed through the
broadcast tables and equipment with a huge smash, laying motionless
amongst the wreckage as The Freak simply looked down silently for a few
seconds before disappearing into the back. At ringside, Token
Weed remained down and out amongst the crowd whilst Kinkade, Steve
Christ and Ty Hughes were all recovering and making their way back into
the Asylum. Things had
suddenly become extremely interesting. The master plan that had
apparently been forged by Kinkade, Dez Aragon and someone in fWo
political power had all been torn to shreds in a matter of minutes,
where Kinkade and Dez had been taking advantage of their opponents and
putting forth a strong bid to win they now both seemed highly unlikely
to come anywhere close to victory. Dez was gone...
snatched from the match by a vengeful Freak who'd returned to Asylum
television for the first time since Turmoil and now Kinkade was feeling
the brunt of a two man Steve Christ and Ty Hughes pummeling. Perhaps the only
thing in favor of The Jersey Devil was the fact that the only ladder
available to clamber to the gold with was still laying atop of Token
Weed who was still motionless amongst the crowd following his huge fall
from the Asylum to the front row seats. Christ and Hughes
tore into Kinkade, they were the epitome of what the Asylum could do to
a man in that their time with the promotion had turned them from skilled
wrestlers to hardened brawlers. They'd worked together before
during the Mind Games match and seemed very much to be on the same page,
both with a handful of Kinkade's hair their took turns at driving knees
into his ribs. A second or two
later the two gave him a hefty shove that sent him staggering back into
the Asylum rim spine first... as he bumbled back toward them in a state
of agony they both sent a fist each driving into his face, knocking down
down to the canvas and backward into the mesh again. If Kinkade had a
backup plan it needed to surface immediately, which it did. "Fuckin' In
The Bushes" by Oasis. Everyone in the
Qualcomm Stadium was out of their seat as Borst burst through the
curtain and rushed toward the Asylum, the reaction was that of a group
of people torn between emotions. On one front Borst had turned his
back on them to chase the wrestling dream but on the other he was still
the former four time Asylum champion and legend. The mixed
reactions firmly became one sided negatives however, as Borst jumped the
Asylum rim and immediately send a solid right fist right into the back
of Steve Christ's skull... knocking him forward to the canvas. Ty
Hughes turned but was too late to block a typical Borst kick to the
nether regions. Several more
typically dirty Borst kicks rained down on Ty Hughes as Steve Christ
attempted to get to his feet only to be met by a similar fate, Kinkade
pulling no punches in catching Christ for a forearm below the belt and
taking a leaf out of Borst's book of unfair fighting. With both Hughes
and Christ down on the canvas the fWo company of Borst and Kinkade took
full advantage in continuing to send wicked kicks and punches into
them... Kinkade took grasp of Christ's hair and dragged him over to the
Asylum mesh where he proceeded to grate The Third Coming's head into a
bloody mess. Borst continued to
take the fight to all new lows as he delivered the aptly named From
Russia With Love, holding Hughes' legs apart whilst repeatedly stamping
on his groin. Suddenly Borst and Kinkade halted their violent
attacks, apparently to measure up more deadly and less cheap moves from
their arsenals. A furious Hughes
struggled to his feet with nothing but attack in his mind, it proved to
be his downfall as he put up little defense to Borst as he clasped him
in a tight bearhug. Borst squeezed the life out of Hughes as
Christ also staggered onto his feet across the Asylum... unaware of
Kellen Kinkade who was measuring him up. The crowd were
shocked into silence as their two Asylum heroes were put firmly in place
by the invading fWo stars... Borst lifted Hughes into the air and drove
him to the canvas, completing the Bearbuster right in harmonic timing
with Kinkade spearing Christ down to the canvas viciously with the
Killing Spree. Asylum's hopes of
victory and indeed survival had just lost their pulse. Borst and Kinkade
both yanked up Hughes and Christ and in one swift motion dumped them
both over the Asylum to the arena floor with a clatter. As Ty
Hughes and Steve Christ lay motionless on the arena floor a furious,
bloodied and beaten Kinkade turned to Borst. "About
time... where the fuck have you be-" SMACK. A roar went up in
the arena that possibly drowned out any cheer that had ever taken place
at any Asylum event. 71,000 people had all let out a massive cheer
in light of Borst rushing at Kinkade to break his sentence with the most
wicked Clothesline From Yankland of all time. "Take that
you cock!" Borst snarled as he got to his feet to berate the
convulsing Kinkade "Closing down the Asylum? You'll be pissing in
my swimming pool next... only I piss in my swimming pool, got
it?" With that Borst
flashed Kinkade the two finger salute and clambered out of the Asylum,
taking note to remove the ladder from atop of Token Weed so that he
could place it between Christ and Hughes and even the odds a bit.
Exiting through the crowd Borst was an Asylum hero once again. And so the fight
once again drifted into uncharted territory, the outcome still as
unpredictable as when the match had begun. Nobody appeared to be
showing any signs of life, Kinkade lay completely out of it on the
canvas, Ty Hughes and Steve Christ remained still on the arena floor and
Token Weed... ...was on his
feet! The crowd backed
their favorite as he struggled up from amongst them and dumped himself
over the guard rail... starting a tedious crawl back toward the Asylum
from whence he'd fallen so sickeningly not long ago. Token placed
his hands on the ladder, pausing for a moment to send a firm fist into
the temple of Ty Hughes as he tried to recover from the attack placed
upon him by Borst. Token struggled
onto his feet and hoisted the ladder up onto his shoulder. Making
his way back toward the Asylum he spotted Kinkade who'd also started to
show signs of life. CRACK. Not for long,
Token placed the ladder on the rim of the Asylum before putting his
weight behind it and sliding it into Kinkade's head with a sick crack
that had The Jersey Devil back in the realm of unconscious that he'd
only just left. Satisfied with the blow Token climbed into the
Asylum and picked up the ladder, this time setting it beneath the two
title belts that hung high above the fighting area. With the crowd
still on their feet in anticipation Token began his ascent, scaling
slowly up the ladder rung by rung. Each one taking a painstaking
amount of time due to the injuries Token had received from his huge fall
earlier in the night. Finally he was within reach and took a lunge
at the belts, the crowd continued to buzz with anticipation but also
agony as his lunge only knocked the belts around. Swinging from
side to side as he failed to take a steady grip on them. Token made another
snatch but this time he missed completely and wobbled around on the
ladder precariously this time prompting sounds of concern from the
ground, gradually he regained his balance but quickly found out that the
concern had not been for his near fall. But for the man
scaling up the ladder behind him representing a certain fall. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
The crowd said with grimaces upon their faces as Token prepared to reach
again but was left reaching not for the belts but for his groin, as the
bloody figure of Kinkade caught him in the crotch with a hard uppercut. Kinkade turned his
back to face away from the ladder before emerging between Token's legs
to deliver a second blow that almost certainly put Token out of the
picture for the night, which wasn't a bad thing considering that it
would've put most fighters out of the picture. Period. The Jersey Devil
powerbombed Token down from the ladder and still managed to hold on as
the man who'd plagued him in fWo ground ever since Turmoil fell to the
canvas and indeed... partially through it must to the shock and awe of
those in attendance. A wry smile crept
across Kinkade's face as he looked down at Token who lay in the dented
Asylum canvas completely still, he turned and made the couple of steps
further up the ladder before snatching out at the Immortal title. And grabbing it,
to pull it away and ensure that he'd be taking it back to the fWo with
him. Kinkade looked at the partially cracked belt with a glint in
his eye before looking up again at the Asylum championship that
continued to hang. He reached for it. Then stopped. Kinkade looked
back, down at Token Weed who despite the insane two falls was now
stirring about in the dented canvas. He looked outside the Asylum
at the battered Hughes and Christ who were still trying to get to their
feet and he looked across the crowd at the rabid fans, before coming to
a conclusion. "Fuck it,
they can keep it." Kinkade uttered to himself, withdrawing his
reach and making his way back down the ladder. The crowd couldn't
quite know what to make of The Jersey Devil's exit as he made his way up
the aisle with the Immortal title in hand, disappearing through the
curtain and not only confirming that the Asylum would continue as a
promotion but that there would also be a new champion by the end of the
night. Token Weed was
still out despite the odd movement to suggest that he was coming around,
he still lay amongst the broken canvas that his body had destroyed upon
impact whilst on the outside Ty Hughes and Steve Christ were finding
their feet. Both fighters put
together the pieces of the situation at the same pace, they both looked
up and realized that the Immortal championship was gone, they both
looked up and realized that the Asylum championship remained and they
both looked up to see the ladder standing and Token Weed out cold on the
canvas. It was every man
for himself now. Christ and Hughes
set upon one another with a wicked exchange of right and left punches,
like two pitbulls thrown reluctantly together in a fight to the death
they accepted that cooperation was no longer the issue and that there
could be only one champion. Hughes took
advantage as he put his boxing skills to use with the 1-2-3 combination
of a right straight, a left hook and a right uppercut.
Surprisingly however the defiant Christ refused to go down but that was
quickly to change as Hughes followed up with The London Welcome, a solid
boot between the legs followed by a middle finger and a right cross
punch that had Steve down on the arena floor motionless. Content with his
work, Hughes clambered steadily up into the Asylum before making his way
over to the ladder that remained in the center of the structure
following Kinkade's climb to Immortal championship gold. Hughes
placed a hand on it but then turned just in time to catch Token trying
to struggle out of the dented canvas, paying him back in the exact same
way that Token had caught him earlier... across the face with a wicked
punch. Hughes started to
climb as anticipation in the arena once again grew, closer and closer
toward the title that had always seemed to be just a little way out of
his grasp the feeling was never more true than as he reached up within a
foot of the Asylum championship. WHACK. And then just as
it had been so many times before the title was snatched from his almost
grasp, Steve Christ had recovered and snapped up a trusty chair with
which to nail Hughes in the back as he stood on the ladder reaching for
the belt. Ty slumped against the ladder as Christ drew back and
sent the chair snapping into Hughes' back a second and then third time. Hughes slumped
into the ladder and slipped down a few rungs as Christ slammed down the
chair and made his way around to the other side, starting his own scale
towards championship glory. Within a matter of seconds the tides
had turned and it was now Steve Christ reaching just a foot away from
becoming the new Asylum champion, his finger tips almost caressing the
belt as his grasp grew ever nearer... ...then ever
further away. Hughes reached
through the ladder from several rungs below, grasping Christ's ankle and
yanking him down to the same level. As Christ landed he drew back
at the exact same time as Hughes, Steve throwing a right fist through
the gap between the rungs and Hughes throwing a left. Both punches
connected and knocked each man off his side of the ladder, Christ fell
to the canvas with a hefty thud and Hughes landed with a sick crunch
right on top of the still down Token Weed. A few moments of
crowd support went on and then in what was a testament to the
determination of those involved to become the new champion of the
Asylum... all three individuals started to move. Hughes and
Christ were up first, both once again crawling their way back to the
ladder. Token however had dug himself out of the dent he'd made in
the canvas and was trying to pull himself up using the mesh of the
Asylum structure. Hughes and Christ
continued to scale in search of pole position in the title race, finally
both men reached the top of the ladder. "CHRIST!
CHRIST! CHRIST!" Echoed through the arena before swaying into
"HUGHES! HUGHES! HUGHES!" Christ made a
desperate snatch at the belt but only ended up knocking it a little
closer to Hughes, as Hughes reached for it he was met by the right hand
of Steve Christ who'd missed the belt and was now making sure that Ty
Hughes would miss it too. "TOKEN!
TOKEN! TOKEN!" Both men looked
down to see Token Weed look up and widen his eyes, he rushed suddenly
toward the ladder and charged into it with a hard shoulder lunge...
knocking it from beneath the two men standing at the top and to the
canvas with a thud. Token hit the mesh
at the other side of the Asylum and slumped as he and the crowd waited
for the hideous thud of both Christ and Hughes falling to the
canvas. But it didn't come as quickly as anticipated, screams of
shock and surprise filled the arena as Christ and Hughes swung about on
the cable suspending the title belt... both hanging in the air until. THHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHUD. They came crashing
back down to earth with a hefty thud. All eyes
immediately looked to the cable suspending the belt but to yet more
shocked ovations the title belt was no longer there. Back down on
the canvas Token Weed staggered to his feet before looking at Christ and
Hughes down on the canvas and spitting a mouthful of blood with rage. The Asylum logo
slowly appeared in the bottom corner of the screen as the final view of
FIGHTH3LL came into place... the Asylum championship laying between
Christ and Hughes. Each man still with a grip that only death
could loosen, latched firmly onto the title. No music hit...
just a huge ovation of cheers and clapping from the 71,000 strong crowd
that'd arrived at the Qualcomm stadium... ...to see the
newly crowned champions. Winner and STILL Immortal Champion: Kellen Kinkade Winner and NEW Asylum Champions: Ty Hughes & Steve Christ
Credits Craig: Where'd that truck come from? Splink© Vs Mystery Opponents. Jerel: Thanh Vactor Vs Osyrus, Is it back? Joe: Frank Minio Vs Lucifer, Subject to terms and conditions, Bah, Kellen Kinkade© Vs Steve Christ Vs Dez Aragon Vs Ty Hughes Vs Token Weed Vs Pete Borst. Justin & Jordan: Bizarre Kid Vs August Monday. Kamlesh: What you didn't see last week I, What you didn't see last week II, Mercy & Eddie Scott Poser Vs Lucinda Scott & Karen Pembridge. Kevin: Knock knock, Joe. Mani: The psychology of man. Mike: Jeff Garvin Vs Hank Earl Hoskins. Nick: The sad goodbye, Legion of Dairy Vs The Enlightened. Tim: Last minute rule change, Sebastian Thompson Vs John C. Willis, Carnage© Vs Eddie Cheno. Tom: Finale.
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