Persecution.
Madison Square Garden, New York.
January 26th 2002.

"Broken home, all alone
Broken home, all alone
I can't seem to fight these feelings
I'm caught in the middle of this
And my wounds are not healing
I'm stuck in between my parents
I wish I had someone to talk to
Someone I could confide in
I just want to know the truth
I just want to know the truth
Want to know the truth!

Broken home
All alone
I know my mother loves me
But does my father even care?
If I'm sad or angry
You were never ever there
When I needed you
I hope you regret what you did
I think I know the truth
Your father did the same to you
Did the same to you!

I'm crying day and night now
What is wrong with me?
I cannot fight now
I feel like a weak link

Crying day and night now
What is wrong with me?
I cannot fight now I feel like a weak link

A weak link Broken home, all alone
It feels bad to be alone
Crying by yourself living in a broken home
How could I tell it?
So all y'all could feel it
Depression strikes hard just like my old earth would tell it

To me, her son, she told me
I'm the one
Pain bottled up, 'bout to blow like a gun
Stories that I tell
Are nonfiction
And you can't take it back cuz it's already done

BROKEN HOME! BROKEN HOOOOME!

Can't seem to fight these feelings
Caught in the middle of this
My wounds are not healing
Stuck in between my parents
BROKEN HOME! BROKEN HOOOOME!"
"Broken Home" by Papa Roach

Opening...
"Happy new year.”

It was a redundant saying, often spoken in cliché, and for Joe Campbell and the Asylum in general, it hadn’t been a happy new year at all.  Joe could count the number of times someone had said “Happy new year.” To him, on one hand… this however only further infuriated him, how could people that watched the misery that was his life unfold on national television every week, still have the audacity to speak such contradiction through their clenched teeth?

“Happy funeral visit.”

“Happy trip to emergency room.”

“Happy birthday, I just stabbed you in the face… but all the same.”

People might as well have spoken “Happy new year.” In the same vain sentiment, the words didn’t mean anything… Asylum was going under.

Rave Caprino,  the cancer within the system, had casually been destroying that which Joe had created.

“Created.”

Joe couldn’t even lie about that anymore, Rave had washed Joe’s dirty linins in public, the world now knew that Joe Campbell’s empire had been built mercilessly upon sacred ground, he’d stolen the concept… he’d commercialised it, and now he was reaping the rewards?

“Rewards?”

Not quite, the rewards were very few these days… Rave Caprino was the cancer, but Joe Campbell’s own greed and stupidity were the brain tumour that would kill the Asylum in the end, half of his empire was now completely full with what he considered to be the lowest form of life in existence, the wrestler.

Not only this, but the Asylum no longer had any legs to stand on so to speak, for the past two weeks, the entire balance of the company had hung on its website, cut from TNN air following a riot which exploded, once again… due to the actions of Campbell, Asylum was in a bad way.

And as similar thoughts rushed through Joe Campbells head, he set his heart on fixing the problem, the Campbell way.

Contract Adjustments.

In two hours, Joe Campbell would attend Asylum’s January Pay Per View.

And in a turn of events, it would be fully televised, by TNN.

“Its funny how quickly the roles can be reversed.” Joe Campbell sneered, blowing a could of smoke into the face of an unknown entity.

“One minute, you’re the king of the hill… the next, someone bigger, better and badder, kicks yer’ arse off… I see it all the time, it happened to Borst; he faked his own death, it was going to happen to Kenny Rock; he killed himself before it could.

You have to face it, life’s always going to throw these little hurdles into your path, how you take them on however, all boils down to your demeanour I suppose.

See, you? You’re one of the good guys, you play it safe, you come up to these hurdles, and you slow down, you find it plausible to slow the pace and ensure a nice, safe leap over to the clear path ahead.

Not me though, oh no.

See, I prefer to run at these hurdles at full speed, never was one for slowing down and losing any ground, why jump the hurdles, when you can bash right fucking through them?

See, that’s where you and I are different mate, you make the rules.

I break them.

And that… is exactly why you are currently down on your knee’s.

And I am standing tall, sticking a Desert Eagle into your mouth.” Joe snarled, despite his lack in height, he towered over the well dressed man who was on his knees, his arms restricted by the power of Joe’s latest strike force, Hans Krueger and Adam Nowell, Eddie Cheno was notably absent… but given the current setting, his help probably wasn’t deemed help at all.

“You watch movies right?” Joe said, the well dressed man nodding his head as much as possible, the gun restricting his movement.

“Good, good… ever see anyone get shot in the head?” Joe said, the tone of the conversation suddenly becoming quite worrying for the man with a gun in his mouth.

Again, he nodded.

“Great, you’ll know what I’m talking about then… see, its funny, all these war films… all these real life depictions, but they never quite seem to get the headshot details spot on, I mean sure, you get a bit of blood, but the victim is question always lies there in a heroic state, saving the day.” Joe snarled, suddenly fixing an intense glare on the well dressed man.

“See, mate… if I pulled this trigger right now, it wouldn’t be much like the movies, you wouldn’t be the hero that saved the day, you be the fat fucking suit and tie bastard, with no head… and no open coffin funeral, they’d have to scoop the remains of your worthless head into a jar and bury it with you, you don’t want that to happen, right?” Joe said, his eyes red with rage.

The man nodded.

And suddenly, all became apparent.

“See, you people at TNN… I’m willing to give you a chance, first time offenders that you are, young and naïve in the ways of the business which I run, you see… if you fuck with the Asylum, we don’t take it in the ass with a smile, we will fuck you back, twice as hard, you took my show of the television, do you think that was funny? Do you know how much money you cost me? I should blow your head off just for that, but I don’t think that’d be a suitable repayment.” Joe sneered.

“Which is why, we’re going to make a few changes to this little contract of yours and mine… first of all, censoring, there’ll be none of it… blood, it’ll be there, it I want to say “Fuck fuck fuck, fuck fuck fuck your mother.” Then it’ll be right there on air for you to see, of my estranged pal Villam, wants to execute someone in front of the masses, then so be it.” Joe said, the glow back in his eye once more.

“So what do I want you to do, you must be wondering?” Joe asked the well dressed man.

“I just want you to sign this paper, that’s all… just once, nothing else, you will never hear from me, or anyone from the Asylum, again… sound like a fair deal?”

A slight pause.

Joe’s face twisted.

“OR DOES A BULLET IN THE FUCKING HEAD SOUND BETTER!?” Joe roared, grip tightening on the trigger.

The man shook his head vigorously.

“Then here, here’s a pen, sign it… and we’re gone.” Joe said, tossing him a pen and presumably what was a contract, Joe pulled the Desert Eagle handgun from the man’s mouth, and looked somewhat angry that he’d spat on it.

The man signed the paper, before sliding it across to the floor to Campbell, who snatched up and into his pocket.

“Right, come on lads… our work here is done.” Joe snorted, Krueger and Nowell dropping the man to the floor where he stayed, weeping… for the rest of the night.

Joe Campbell and the two Syndication members walked down a flight of stairs, before pushing through a pair of doors and into the cold night air, as the walked, a sign was visible in the distance.

“TNN.”

The river of dreams?

Joe Campbell sat quietly in his office.

With his gut feeling that Dissident or Caprino would foil his plans, though, Campbell was quietly trying to come up with a new plan to get rid of those wankers once and for all.

That's when *they* appeared.

Campbell didn't even look up, even when the sound of blowing wind filled the room and three figures appeared in the office. The first was a short Hispanic toothpick-passing-for-a-man in a yellow bodysuit and red cape. The second figure stood with his back leaned up against the first man's back, he had blonde hair that stood straight up, and he wore a blue bodysuit and a dark blue cape. The third figure, noticably shorter than the other two, was a Chinese midget who wore a brown bodysuit and a black cape.

Joe blinked.

"Who the fuck are you?" Campbell asked, irritated that a couple of silly-looking blokes barged into his office without even knocking.

"Who are we?" the Hispanic asked, preparing to launch into a rant of epic proportions.

"We are Mega Job: The Epic Tag Team!" the Hispanic said in his high-pitched voice. His taller partner with the bad hair day, Beef the Slightly Annoyed, pitched in with his own words.

"You see, Janito, Steve, and I, we climbed up the Mountain of the Faith to wipe out all that is unhappy and unshiny. We crossed the River of Dreams to meet with a guy named Billy Joel, and he said that his piano sounded like a carnival. Then Janito, here, well, he got real excited at the prospect of a carnival being in a piano, but Billy said that it was just an analogy. And then we were sad." Beef said in his gritty, hero-like voice.

"But then we looked up, and pushed forward! Through the Valley of Fear, where we saw things we feared. Things like... the Brian Setzer Orchestra, Vince Russo's booking, or in Janito's case, apples."

"Yeah, esse! And I nearly wet myself when I saw them!" Janito chimed in.

"We crossed the Rivers of Dreams again, and we got this immense feeling of Deja Vu, because we saw Billy again. Billy told us about an old man sitting next to him that was making love to his tonic and gin, and we got really scared. I mean, WHO MAKES LOVE TO ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES, ANYWAY?!" Beef continued, then Joe Campbell helpfully adds a name into the mix.

"Ric Chronos. And, wh-" Joe started, before Beef cuts him off.

"Wait a second! I'm not finished with my story! Anyway, after that disturbing issue, we pressed on. Through the Jungle of Doubt! As we crossed this jungle, we began to doubt ourselves. What were we doing in this jungle? I mean, it was like, big and green and dark and scary! But then we realized that it was just the jungle giving us these doubts, and we continued. Sure, there were bugs in this jungle bigger than your head, and that TOTALLY creeped Steve out."

"SCARY." the midget boomed with a voice that didn't even seem like something that would come out of his vocal chords.

"So then, we crossed the River of Dreams... AGAIN. And guess who we saw when we got there?" Beef asked, almost directing a question at Campbell.

"I don't give a shit. In fact, g-"

"Billy Joel, esse!" Janito interrupted in his squeaky voice.

"Yeah. Billy told us about how this Paul guy was a real estate guy who never had time for a wife. And he was talking with Davy from the navy, and probably would be for life. We thought about this for a moment. Then we realized that it rhymed! And thus, with that rhyme in our heads, we continued through the Desert of Truth." Beef continued in his deep, gritty, hero-like voice.

"And it was really hot and uncomfortable, esse!" Janito chimed in, yet again.

"Yes, I'm sure, now, would you m-" Campbell tried again, but Beef cut him off yet again.

"When we entered the Desert of Truth, we found out the truth about ourselves. Janito and Steve found out that I was a closet Pokemon addict, and they laughed at me. But then I got back at Janito because I found out that he was a applophobe! I mean, I didn't even know this until now! And Steve... well, we already knew that he liked hitting people in the crotch, so nothing funny could be done out of him." Beef sadly ranted, while Campbell just holds his jaw open in shock. Not because of finding out the truth about Mega Job, but because of the sheer stupidity of the three men that were standing in front of him.

"Then, we reached the River of Dreams again, and once again, we saw Billy Joel. Billy was still playing his piano when we got there, and he sang about a guy who could be a movie star if he could get out of this place. And that's when we saw it. It was a big dome! And it had the Asylum in it! So here we are!" Beef concluded.

Joe Campbell stood up.

And he blinked.

"I don't know who the fuck you are, but my IQ just dropped by ten points thanks to you two. GET OUT!" Campbell boomed, pointing at the exit of the door.

Mega Job's combined expressions turned from giddiness to sadness.

"Aw, but why, esse? We were becoming the best of friends!" Janito said, sadly.

"Man, Janito, how are we going to fight evil, now?" Beef asked his Hispanic friend.

Campbell paused. He suddenly had a brainstorm. A brainstorm that he may soon to learn to regret. He looked at Mega Job.

"Did you say that you fought evil?" Campbell asked, mock-innocently.

"Well..." Beef started. "...yeah."

Campbell's expression slowly turned to a grin.

"Good. We've been PLAGUED by evil, lately!" Campbell stated in his distinct accent.

"I mean, between those Dissident wankers and that Caprino prick, I don't know why you didn't come sooner!"

Beef's jaw dropped, Janito's expression turned to happiness, and Steve's expression remained the same.

"So, you'll hire us to take on evil?" Beef asked, expectedly.

And in the one moment that Joe Campbell might hate himself for later, he nodded.

"Woohoo!" Janito and Beef yell triumphantly in unison. They did a "white boy high five", which involved them trying to high five and missing completely. They turned back to Joe.

"You won't live to regret this! Just remember..." Janito said, before beginning something they've recited time and time again.

The Mantra of the Job.

"Whenever crime robs a bank, WE'LL BE THERE!" Janito said.

"Whenever crime takes candy from a baby, WE'LL BE THERE!" Beef added.

"Whenever crime kills somebody and leaves a nice rotting corpse, WE'LL BE THERE!" Janito continued.

"And whenever crime stops by City Hall on one fine Sunday morning and takes a leak on the Mayorial Statue of Good... well, they'll probably turn away so they don't see crime's two-and-a-half inch penis, but they assure you that when crime zips back up... WE'LL BE THERE!" Beef finished. Janito and Steve both cringe and look at Beef.

"Sorry, man. I forgot you hated that part." Beef said. Janito just shrugged and turn to Joe.

"Until next time... it has been our pleasure!" he said with a grin on his face.

"YOUR pleasure, Janito. If you're going to steal Slugger catchphrases, get them right." Beef corrected.

"Hey! I don't think you're supposed to say his name around here!" Janito said. Campbell just ignored them and tried to get back to his quiet time, but suddenly, another gust of wind catches his attention. He looks up...

...and Mega Job are gone, just like that.

Oh, wait, they just tripped over their capes and are lying on the ground.

"Dammit, esse! STEVE goes first, not you!"

"Shut up, Janito."

Fuck?

Suddenly backstage is shown, and two doors fly open.

"I'm back!" screamed Borst, as he stood in the door way with his bag in his right hand and a blow up sex doll under his left arm, only for the doors to bounce closed again into his face.

The doors opened again, this time more slowly, and Borst walked through the doors with a big grin on his face. He paused for a moment and thought deeply "Aha. Fuck count!" he bellowed, as he dropped his bag to the floor. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." Deep breath. "There you go guys!" he shouted. "There are 50 fucks, you only have to contribute about 20 between you all to keep up the average. Try censoring that you fucks. Ah shit, that's 52 now..."

Borst's fun was quickly interupted. "Where's the hell have you been for the past week and a half?!" an Asylum Official asked him as he ran out of a small office

Borst rubbed his chin, looking slighty embarassed. "Well..." he said. "I got lost in the desert, ran out of petrol. So I was kind of late. Sorry about missing the shows and all, and missing all those interview segment things, but hey... couldn't be helped fuckhead. And that's 53."

Quick wink, followed by a two finger salute that enrages the Asylum Official. So much so that the official refrained to comment and stormed off in the direction of Joe Campbell's office.

"Ah well." Borst muttered. "At least I can do some training now, ready for this HUGE comeback match." Borst looked at the blow up sex doll. "Boy do I feel sorry for you. You're gonna get a right pounding."

No, it's not what you think.

Seconds later, Borst's training had finished. He'd suceeded in kicking the doll in the crotch area several times, and the doll had burst. "Job done. Great stuff."

Impetigo Vs The Masked Man

“Conserve” by Big D and the Kids Table hit the PA system as the fans in attendance went nuts. They knew it could only mean one man; A man who had sought revenge for the comatose state of his friend, Superhero, and took out Callous. This man was:

Impetigo.

Impetigo stood at the top of the ramp way as the fans exploded into cheers. Impetigo smiled as he walked down the ramp way calmly, slapping some fans hands, and nodded off to the crowd as they continued to cheer him on, and he entered the Asylum.

He left Wonder Hanna back in safer confinements, the locker room. She had been paranoid at the latest attacks, and wanted this madness to stop. But, it wouldn’t.

As he entered the Asylum, an all too familiar song hit the PA system: “Know Your Enemy” by Rage Against The Machine. The fans exploded into boos, recognizing the theme song almost immediately. The figure stepped out from the shadows…and smiled.

The dark clad masked man walked down the ramp way, ignoring the cursing of the fans as well as the garbage thrown at his vicinity. He walked towards the Asylum, ready to destroy the man that stood in it, once and for all.

As the masked man entered the Asylum, the bell rang, and the fans went wild as Impetigo started off the match with an elbow to the throat. Impetigo then forearmed the man, who stumbled back, apparently caught off guard by the moves.

When Impetigo went for his ‘lucky’ third shot at the man, the man grabbed Impetigo’s arm, twisting it back as Impetigo gritted his teeth in pain. The fans booed as the man rammed Impetigo’s face into the mesh of the Asylum several times.

The masked man then lifted Impetigo, and quickly Military Press Slammed him to the mat as the boos reached a higher level, and the man merely sneered before locked Impetigo into a Boston Crab submission hold.

The referee check to see if Impetigo would tap, but he didn’t. The referee then check to see if Impetigo would lose consciousness, but yet again, he didn’t.

The fans went nuts as they saw Impetigo ramming one of his elbows into the neck of the masked man, making him release the submission hold as he got up, and stared down at Impetigo. He shook his head, and smiled beneath the mask.

The man reached down to lift up Impetigo, but Impetigo managed to kick him in the groin, and hit one of his trademark moves, the ‘Ouch times three’. The fans went wild as Impetigo then moved back for a second, before executing a Yakuza kick, sending the mystery man flying over the Asylum wall.

Impetigo asked the ref to open the door, which the ref obliged, and Impetigo walked over to the man, hitting him over the head with a Double Axe handle to the ground. The cheers grew louder as Impetigo locked the mystery man in a Cobra Clutch.

The mystery man, all the while attempted to break free of the submission hold, but Impetigo wouldn’t budge, making it very difficult to get free from the maneuver. However, he was slowly slipping into unconsciousness as time went on.

Eventually, the ref checked him out, and saw his eyes were closed.

The ref raised the arm once…

And it fell down.

The ref raised it once again…

And it fell down again.

The ref raised it a final time…

And it stayed up.

The fans booed as the mystery man got up, flipping Impetigo off him with all his might. The fans booed this as the man had in fact been playing possum along. The fans boo as the man continued to pummel Impetigo.

Suddenly, Impetigo tripped the masked man as the fans cheered him on. Impetigo then lifted the man up, and whipped him up the ramp way, backstage. Impetigo smiled as he headed towards the masked man, who was breathing heavily, yet weakly at him.

“Its time to finish you, …” but before Impetigo could finish the identification of the man, he fell to the ground as the fans booed. Out from behind stepped a man with a baseball bat, also masked, and grinning evilly.

As the two men were about to pummel Impetigo, a scream was heard:

“STOP!”

The two men turned around, and saw… Wonder Hanna.

Hanna walked towards the men, and pleading with them: “Please, stop it! Don’t hurt him…” yet her attempts were in vain, as the second man suddenly smacked her to the ground as the fans booed even louder. Wonder had overcame her fears, only to be destroyed by the two evil men, and showing the length one will go for their love.

The men continued hitting Impetigo with a barrage of hits as the fans continued to boo. Once they stopped, they ordered the ref to count the knock out, which he did with great speed to end the torture session. After ten quick seconds, the masked man was given the victory.

Winner: The Masked Man via Knockout

Aftermath.

The two masked men stood in the ring laying a beating to the senseless Impetigo while the crowd jeered and cursed the two. One of the two mystery men grabbed a microphone.

"I hope you remember what I told you Impetigo," he sneaked a kick to the man's face, "one man will lay in the hospital bed the rest of his life because of you." He paused for a second while the crowd calmed itself to hear what he was going to say next. "The other man you've wronged will also make you lay right next to Callous in a hospital bed, permanently!" The masked man turned to the crowd while the other kept punishing Impetigo. "That other man... is him.", he said while pointing his finger at the other masked man.

The other masked man slowly slid the mask off his face. A dark Asian man revealed himself. His face was expressionless and unfamiliar. His eyes were cold and penetrating. He was about 6'2" with a shaved head. With respect to the present Asylum roster, his stature was by no means intimidating, but his presence left a bone-chilling energy in the arena. As the crowd jeered this new arrival to the Asylum world, he cast deep probing glares at the people. As the jeers grew louder, you could see a smirk draw itself on the man's face. The remaining mystery man went on with his speech.

"Khmer!", said the mystery man, "remember the name motherfuckers!" The crowd disapproved. "One day he'll own the whole damn show.", he added.

Khmer didn't say a word. He simply picked up Impetigo and drove him down in a lighting quick DDT. The thunderous thud was heard all over the arena. Khmer did not let go of the hold. He converted the DDT into a front cross-face head lock. This is supposed to be a submission move, but the relentless beating followed by a DDT has knocked the consciousness out of Impetigo. Officials have come out from the back to escort Khmer and the masked man out of the arena, but they would have none of it.

"Do you think I'd simply get out of this ring?", said the maked man with anger in his voice. "You have NO IDEA!"

He took off his mask in a sudden motion and threw it down on the canvas. The crowd was stunned. The people in the arena couldn't believe it. The officials were twice as shocked.

"You're damn right!", said the man, "it was ME and HIM all along!"

It wasn't Callous. Far from that, the second masked man is none other than...



































SUPER HERO!!!

"I know what you're asking. You're probably saying 'What the fuck? Why Hero why?'", he paused, looked at the crowd that became now silent before he proceeded, "I'll tell you why. It's real simple."

The former Asylum fighter known as Super Hero walked toward the unconscious Impetigo that Khmer had just released from the hold. He stompped on his guts a few times and then swiftly kicked him in his face. The crowd knew not how to react.

In the heat of anger and madness, Hero managed to explain himself, "Because of this motherfucker... and that bitch sister of mine, I AM NO LONGER A FIGHTER!!!", he stompped on Impetigo again. "It's all because of you Impetigo. You, who I considered my brother... Because of your actions, I will no longer be able to do what I love for a living." He grabbed the lifeless Impetigo by his hair. "The only reason why Callous hit me with that baseball bat was because he wanted to get at you. But now he's gone to dreamland, so I hold you responsible for everything." He released him as his limp body fell to the floor.

Super Hero looked at the crowd. "You people cheer Impetigo because he's the 'good guy'. Well, I used to be a good guy too, but now he's the only one you'll ever remember.", he said with anger in his voice. "Because of him, I will never go down in history. I'm twice as good as him and many times as marketable. Is this my fate? To live the rest of my life not being able to do what I love for a living? Tell me Impetigo! IS THIS MY FATE!?!"

The officials tried to calm Hero. Khmer stood a few feets behind him.

Super Hero glanced at Khmer who was still expressionless. "I know you and that motherfucker Callous are real tight, and I hate him for ending my life in this business, but I need your hands to end his, so we can be even." Khmer understood, but he didn't answer. He simply went outside to pick up a chair and came back to the ring to hand it to Hero. Khmer proceeded to pick up Impetigo and held him still on his feet.

"Impetigo, this last shot will make us even." He dropped the microphone and swung the chair across to Impetigo's forehead, opening a gash. Blood flowed vividly out of the wound as he was left for dead on the canvas.

"Now...", Super Hero said with a sort of sadness in his voice, "we're even. From this day forward, our friendship is over. I don't owe you anything, and you don't owe me shit." He looked at the crowd who was still unwilling to react. "This is the last time you'll ever see or hear of Super Hero...

... I fucking QUIT!"

With that, Super Hero and Khmer made their way out of the arena. Officials rushed into the ring at once. As Hero marched alongside his new ally towards the backstage, a stretcher was rushed out of the curtains. With every end comes a new beginning. Everytime it comes back, it becomes twice as haunting and twice as miserable. Was this the price of popularity. What is stardom? Is it worth ending a friendship? Hero stopped before entering the curtains. There was a long pause before his next step.

He never turned around once and kept going until both men disappeared.

Nerva Vs Koji Tamura

For over a year, a fire burned between Nerva and Koji Tamura. That fire grew larger and larger as the months passed, with Koji so frustrated that Nerva didn’t love him. But one night, he grew the gall to get revenge of Nerva for rejecting him. He raped her. And that was how the fire grew to this point, where nothing could put it out. Not H2O. Not O2. Nothing.

The speakers began to play “Unified” by Biohazard. Nerva walked out to a warm ovation, not pausing or wasting a step. She walked up the steel steps and stopped right before the door and threw a fist in the air to prompt more cheers from the crowd. She swung the door open and entered the cage, circling around and thinking about the match. She’d only fought Koji one-on-one once. She won that fight, but that was well before it happened.

“You beat him before,” she whispered under her breath, “now beat him again.”

Her music faded out. “Devil With the King’s Card” by Machinehead replaced her music, and the jeers were heavy. Koji Tamura walked out, and Nerva could see the look in his eyes from 20 feet away. He wanted to punish her, and she knew it. He could feel it as he speed-walked to the cage and entered. What pleasured Koji was abnormal to the everyday man, for he found pleasure in hurting Nerva as much as he could. It made him feel powerful.

Nerva charged at him, put him in a headlock and pulled him over the rim down to the floor. Had the bell rung, it would have been a double ring-out, but the bell hadn’t rung yet. Nerva held onto the headlock, and Koji struggled, managing to slam Nerva against the cage wall to get out of the hold. He shook his head off, but Nerva delivered a stiff jab-cross punch combination, and then slammed his face into the cage.

The ref got involved and pleaded with both of them to get it back into the cage. Neither of them listened. Koji elbowed Nerva in the gut and choked her into the cage. She kneed him in the groin and head butted him right between the eyes. Koji staggered back to create distance, and then smacked Nerva in the jaw with a thrust kick. She fell back against the steel guardrail. Koji charged forward and threw a low-high round kick combo with the same leg, but Nerva blocked them both and then hook kicked him with her lead leg.

Koji stumbled back holding his jaw, and took two steps up the metal stairs. He looked at Nerva, and grinned. She horked and cocked her head. He waved her forward. She came, and Koji was well prepared, as he leapt into the cage and kicked the door into her. Nerva caught the door before it closed and then leapt in.

The bell finally sounded.

Nerva swung a right hook, missed, and then a back-fist, ducked by Koji. Koji came up with an uppercut and followed through until Nerva’s head rocked back. He punched her three times in the gut with alternating fists and then elbowed her right below the eye. Nerva shook her face off, and then fought back with a middle-section round kick that missed. She immediately turned around and sank a back kick into Koji’s gut, knocking the air out of him and doubling him over. She went to palm-strike him on the back of his neck, but Koji turned around quickly with a spinning kick right to the back of her skull.

Her knees buckled, and then she fell face-first to the ground.

“That’s right, Sharon,” he said. “Don’t even think about getting up, because it’ll only give you more pain and me more pleasure.”

The fans rallied together in support for Nerva and started chanting her two-syllable name. She was seeing stars all over, but they were stars of hope. And that hope was telling her that she had four seconds left to get up.

Three seconds.

Two seconds.

She got up.

Koji screamed in frustration and grabbed two handfuls of her hair. He picked her up off her feet and brought her down, but in the process Nerva grabbed both of his shoulders and brought him down as well. They both pulled themselves to their hands and knees at the same time, five feet away from each other. Koji waved Nerva forward, but Nerva raised her middle finger to him and then waved him forward. Koji crawled two steps and swung a right hook. Nerva flattened her chest to the mat to dodge the punch. She then grabbed Koji’s arm and locked him into a crippler crossface submission.

She roared as she cranked up on the neck. “I don’t care if you tap or not, you son of a bitch! I’m snapping your neck either way!”

Seeing himself in grave danger, Koji elbowed Nerva in the face and rolled out of the pressure. He kipped up, but by then Nerva was already up to deliver a high round kick to the back of his head. He turned around and rubbed his head hard to erase the pain. He looked Nerva straight in the eye, and brought his fists up, holding one at eye level and the other close to his mouth.

“Give it up, Nerva. There’s no way I’m going to let you win.”

Nerva assumed a similar fighting stance as his, except with her hands open. The personal issues between them were one thing. There was a time when Japan invaded Korea and banned the practice of all Korean martial arts. Now the symbol of Hwa Rang Do, an ancient Korean martial art, was etched on Nerva’s shirt, pants, face, body, and heart. Once suppressed by Koji’s people, but now used freely. However, Koji was a skilled Karate fighter and not afraid to show it. Both him and Nerva were experts in their craft.

But only one of them would be better on this night.

Koji lashed out a double hand thrust to Nerva’s neck and kneed her in the gut. He brought her face up and slapped her, causing her to turn around. He then push-kicked her into the steel rim and slammed her face against it. Nerva brought her face up, revealing a cut on the side of her face under her eye. She took a jumping round kick from Koji to the face, but decided enough was enough, and side kicked him in the chest to send him back. She brought him up by the chin and slapped him in the face.

Brought his chin back.

Backhanded him the other way.

Brought his chin back.

Slapped him again.

Nerva held her open palms out in front her in a fighting stance, but then closed them into fists and punched Koji with a jab-jab-cross combo. She grinned, and then turned around and kicked off of the cage’s rim. The camera bulbs went flashing as she spun around with a tornado kick right to Koji’s eye; the one that suffered the orbital injury last year at the hands of Graphic Violence.

“Did I hit your weak spot?” she said. He only screamed in pain. “No?” She snap kicked him in the groin. “Is that your weak spot?”

Koji was finding himself embarrassed, worst of all at the hands of a woman. He refused to be treated like this. Nerva lifted her foot up for an ax kick, but Koji grabbed it and flipped her back 360 degrees back onto her feet. She took the moment of silence to wipe the blood strolling down her cheek. “C’mon, bitch!” she said.

Koji charged forward with a jumping spin kick, but Nerva ducked it and side kicked him in the face. With Koji’s back against the steel, Nerva charged forward with one fist forward and the other chambered near her ear. As she lashed out with the chambered fist, however, Koji back flipped her…

But her feet landed on the announcer’s table. She was still in the match; her feet hadn’t touched the floor. Koji turned around in frustration, as he thought he’d had the match won. Only more pain for her, he thought. Nerva jumped onto the side of the cage and started climbing up. However, she knew that Koji would only knock her down, so she started climbing sideways around the cage to get to the door. That way, she’d have the stairs for support and wouldn’t lose the match. Koji stood; he waiting for her to come up within striking reach she could knock her down. She kept moving, left arm over right arm, across the cage until she was three feet from the door. Koji had realized her objective and immediately reached over the cage in desperation.

Big mistake. Nerva swung her right leg up and showed tremendous flexibility, kicking Koji square in the eye. She was drained from the fight, but flexed all of her biceps and triceps to pull into the cage. Blood started to trail down from beside his eye and dripped down to the canvas that was already stained with their sweat. It wasn’t sweat and semen staining the fabric this time. It was sweat and blood.

“I love you, Sharon,” he said.

She wiped the blood from under her eye with two fingers, and then flicked it into his eyes. “Bullshit.”

With his eyes blinded, she wrapped his legs and drove her shoulder into his stomach. She brought him down, but as she tried to mount him, he pushed her back toward the door with both of his feet. She rolled back up to one knee, and saw him coming at her with a flying sidekick. He was coming at her at 82 mph, but everything was suddenly in slow motion for her. She moved her head to the side, and grabbed a handful of his testicles. In fact, she managed to fit his whole package in her hand. Koji screamed as she stood close to him, holding his jewels.

“It can’t end like this,” said Koji. “You love me. We’re supposed to be together.”

“It ends,” she said, “the way I say it ends.”

She cranked up her grip on the testicular claw, and then grounded him with a drop-toe-hold. Koji raised his face from the mat, his eye purple with blood coming out from behind. Nerva kicked the cage door open. “Go,” she said. “You just got your ass kicked by a woman. If I were you, I’d take the honorable way out and walk away with whatever dignity you have left.”

Koji crawled forward, his head outside of the cage. He slumped for a moment, but then got some energy back and began to get up. But then…

Nerva slammed the door on his face. More precisely, on his eye.

“But I’m not gonna let you take that way out.”

She continued to slam the door on his eye, causing more and more blood to leak out and hang on the chain link. The ever-so-bloodthirsty Asylum fans cheered for more blood as Nerva kept slamming the door shut on his face, as if she didn’t know it was there and was simply trying to get the door shut.

“This. Is. For. Fucking. Up. My. Life,” she said with every slam. She then brought Koji’s lifeless body up, and rested it against the cage, hanging his arms over the rim. She walked to the middle of the circle, turned around toward Koji, and blew him a kiss. His good eye was open and could see her face, closing her smile into a frown. Her figure ran forward and leaped up to lash out her deadliest weapon – the Double Touch. The first spin kick ran across his jaw and the second one hit the bull’s eye, pun intended.

Koji slumped forward and fell before Nerva’s feet. She stood there looking down at him as the referee counted. He reached ten and called for the bell, and then raised her hand in victory as she continued to look down at him. “Unified” resurfaced over the speakers, but she couldn’t hear it. All she could her was the voice inside her head saying, “It’s over.” She walked out of the cage and down the steps, with EMTs brushing past her to tend to Koji Tamura. She disappeared behind the curtains without looking back.

Winner: Nerva via Knockout

Unfinished Business.

The Pay Per View was underway. Would it be a success, or was having Borst at the end of the show the definitive answer to needing an "anti-climatic" ending. Who knew the answers?

No one yet.

One thing that everyone did know though, and that everyone was even expecting, was that Joe Campbell had an idea scheming in his head. Actually this idea had been scheming since Sunday night. Six days ago. That’s how long Joe had to play out the next few moments in his head.

"Yeah so I can’t put him in the fight…" Joe said with a grin only seen when he receives the nights numbers on gate attendance. "There’s just no way, I’m gonna have to go against doctors orders and play it safe. Last thing I wanna do is give Rave a shot at your title when he already has a handicap going in." Joe had to try to be serious, you could tell.

"Are you sure that’s not what you want? I could do a lot worse than hit him with a chair." A voice came from the other side of his desk. It was Tyler Burton, the Inmate.

"You know," he said with a smirk, "I wouldn’t mind him getting hurt, but I wanna piss that wanker off, and this is the perfect way to do it Burton."

"Alright, you’re the boss."

"Don’t worry Tyler, I’ve got someone else to shove into that cage with you. You’ll still get your fight. It just won’t be who those stupid fans seem to want it to be."

And with that it seemed there ‘meeting’ was over. Tyler stood up and collected the barbwire covered title, and turned to walk out of Joe’s make shift office.

When Tyler was gone from the room, the camera focused in on Joe. He was still smiling. An awful long time for Joe Campbell to be wearing a smile if you ask me. He must have something else planned.

"That’s right Tyler… I’ve got someone else in mind for you to take care of."

Jessica Jenkins(c) Vs Brittany
Women's Title.

The Women’s Championship match was up next. Brittany stepped out of the Underground locker room and headed to the stage deck. Her music – “Cold” by Static-X – played over the speakers. It was her first PPV match in the Asylum and she was intent on winning. The fans greeted her with a warm reaction as she brushed past the curtains and headed to the ring. She walked up the steps and entered the cage. Her music faded out as she took off her leather jacket and threw it to a cage-side attendant.

“Crawling in the Dark” by Hoobastank blared, and Jessica Jenkins walked down the aisle with the Women’s Championship wrapped around her waist. She took off her belt as she entered the cage and handed it off to the referee. He held it up and called for the bell. Jessica walked right up to Brittany and slapped her in the face.

Brittany touched her face, and then laughed. “Is that all you’ve got?”

Jessica pulled her hand back to slap Brittany again, but Brittany floored her with a clothesline before she got the chance. She picked Jessica up by the hair, and smashed her with a head butt. Jessica shook her head and fired back with a knife-edge chop. Brittany slapped Jess back on the chest, leaving a red welt above her breasts. Angered, Jessica shot for Brittany’s left leg, but Brittany’s size advantage kept her on her feet.

Jessica kept persisting, trying to get Mrs. Bear down to the mat. Brittany clubbed her with a forearm, and then dropped her back with a gut-wrench suplex. Jessica kipped up and ducked under a jumping knee lift by Brittany. She leapt atop the rim, which was now made wider, and moonsaulted towards Brittany. Brittany caught her in mid-air, and dropped her to the mat with a huge power slam.

The ref backed Brittany away from Jessica, and then started his count. Jessica got up at four, holding her back in pain. Brittany beckoned her forward, but Jessica only flinched forward. This caused Brittany to reveal her plan of attack as she dropped down for a sweep. Jessica took advantage and dropped an elbow right into Brittany’s shoulder blade. She locked in an arm-bar, wrenching back as much as she could.

Brittany managed to escape, and jockeyed on top of Jessica. She brought Jess up in a waist lock, and then German suplexed her across the cage. Jessica got up, and as she saw Brittany charging, she kicked her in the gut and DDT’d her to the mat. She then mounted to the top of the cage, and flew off with a bull’s eye frogsplash that connected. The ref started his count on both women, but Jessica was up within the first few seconds. At seven, Brittany got up holding her stomach.

Immediately, Jessica charged Brittany and floored her with a dropkick. Brittany got up and received another one. When she got up a third time, she swatted Jessica’s dropkick away and went for a clothesline. Jessica ducked under and locked Brittany in a Kata Hajime. Because of Brittany’s height advantage, Jessica’s toes were off the mat as she choked her opponent. Brittany grabbed two handfuls of Jessica’s hair, slammed her down hard to the mat, and dropped a leg across her throat.

She then wrapped Jessica in a headlock on the ground and started hammering away at her head. She brought Jessica up, and delivered a stiff punch to the face. Jessica staggered back, and Brittany clotheslined her back first into the cage rim. She grabbed hold of Jessica’s arm, and whipped her onto the other side. Jessica bounced off the metal and staggered to the middle of the circle, where Brittany back body dropped her high in the air and onto the mat.

Jessica was getting up, and Brittany saw it out of the corner of her eye. She shot out a super kick, and smacked Jessica right in the jaw. Jessica shook her head off and charged towards Brittany, but was met with a knee to the gut. Brittany picked her up in a fireman’s carry and swung her around for the Whiplash, but Jessica countered with a swinging DDT. Jessica went to the steel rim again and flew off with a shooting star press. Brittany curled her knees up to counter. Jessica held her mid-section in pain and rolled about the mat. Brittany waited on her to get up, and then trapped her arm and head.

With great force, Brittany hit the suplex on Jessica across the cage. She charged towards her, but Jessica was well prepared with a drop-toe-hold. Brittany landed mouth-first, cutting her lip wide open. She turned around, and spat blood into Jessica’s face and speared her to the ground. She spread both of Jessica’s legs, and dropped her head onto Jess’s vagina. Jessica turned over and got up holding her lower extremities in pain. Brittany came from behind and hit a bulldog.

Sweat soaked through Jessica’s white top, and male fans ringside used their binoculars to get an up-close view of her breasts. Brittany grabbed Jessica by both legs from behind and dropped her back with a wheelbarrow suplex. She pulled Jessica up by the hair, and looked her in the eye. “That title’s mine,” she said.

“Over my small tits,” Jessica said and kicked Brittany between the legs. Jessica grabbed two handfuls of hair and dropped Brittany with a face jam. Brittany crawled towards the cage for support, but Jessica continued to stomp away at her. Brittany got up despite the stomps and throttled Jessica with both hands. She picked her up to dump her out of the cage, but Jessica stuck a thumb in her eye to escape.

Jessica got behind Brittany and locked her in a Kaja Hajime again, ready to throw her over the steel rim. Brittany however pulled Jessica towards the middle of the ring. Jessica got control back, and threw Brittany back, but Brittany landed her feet on the mat and locked Jessica in a cobra clutch. She threw her backwards and out of the Asylum cage to a loud ovation from the crowd. The bell sounded and Brittany was announced as the new Asylum Women’s Champion.

Her music kicked over the speakers again. The referee handed her the belt and raised her hand as she hoisted the belt high in the air. Suddenly, however, Jessica came from behind with a chair and whacked Brittany over the back. Nerva rushed to the cage before any further damage could be done. She threatened Jessica by lifting her leg up, and Jessica backed away without question, especially after what Nerva had done to Koji Tamura earlier in the night.

She helped Brittany up to her feet, holding her by the arm. Out of the corner of her eye, Nerva saw Jessica picking the chair up. Jessica had the chair poised and ready to hit. But then, Nerva did something that would change the course of her attitude forever.

She whipped Brittany into the chair shot.

Blood seeped out of the cut that the chair made in her forehead. Nerva looked down at the woman who tried to be her friend for the past month. She had nothing to say. Brittany rolled over onto her stomach and then pushed herself up, looking up at Nerva. Jessica walked beside Nerva and handed her the chair. Nerva lifted the chair high, and looked straight into Brittany’s hardly-conscious eyes.

Whack.

Nerva had put the knockout shot on Brittany. She slapped Jessica on the butt. “Let’s go.”

The ironically formed duo walked out of the cage and down the aisle, leaving Brittany in a bloody mess with the Women’s Championship.

Winner and NEW champion: Brittany via Ringout

Public Service Announcement.

“Ladies and gentlemen” Joe Campbell began, his face popping onto the Asylum video wall as the attending crowd spun their attentions in his directions.

“Rave Caprino… IS DEAD!” Joe cried, the crowd suddenly erupting in shock and confusion, Joe sported a san expression, bowing his head as the shocked crowd reflected.

“Nyahahahaha! Suckers, I always wanted to do that!” Joe laughed, the crowd exploding with boos, furious at the not so funny prank that Joe had tried to play.

“But alas, sadly, dead he is not… but thanks to a stroke of luck, Rave Caprino will not be here tonight!” More boos followed, not surprisingly.

“That’s right, Rave couldn’t get doctors clearance… apparently, he thinks his injure has healed fine, I beg to differ however, and so does his Doctor, its funny how injured you can look, with a bit of outside influence, I mean… last time I spoke to Rave’s doctor, he was convinced that the injury might even be career threatening, and that he’d never step into the Asylum again!” Joe said with a jovial expression on his face.

“But behold, we have a dilemma! My friend, Inmate… now has no opponent for the extreme title match later tonight? What do we do!? What do… we do?” Joe remarked, his face depicting that he was thinking, in actual fact, he was merely mocking the crowd… he’d had his plan etched in stone long ago.

“I guess we’ll have to pick him a random opponent, lets see… Mike Bear.” Joe followed, not so randomly, the crowd blew up at the mention of Bear’s name, but some also voiced concern, two matches in one night would be tricky.

“Yep, I’m sure Mike won’t mind a friendly warm up with the Inmate, after all… there guys are the best of friends, so yes… Inmate defending his title against Mike Bear, later tonight… splendid, goodbye!” Joe finished, his face disappearing as quickly as it had surfaced, a brief message, but one that could possibly change the outcome of several men’s future.

Hypnosis(c) Vs Sterling Silver
T.V. Title.

“Silver” by Moist hit as the Asylum momentarily transformed from the dingy shithole it was, into the glitz and glamour of Hollywood. Out walked Sterling Silver, and it was unclear which was shining the most, his silver trousers, his bleached white hair, his pearly white teeth, or maybe his giant ego. One thing was certain though… the crowd hated it. They hated everything about Silver, seemingly disregarding the fact that the man could fight.

The rain of hatred didn’t last long, however, as “Won’t Lie Down” (Kombat Mix) by Face-to-Face, and the boos disappeared… but not as much as before. Amidst the majority of the crowd who were on their feet cheering on The Hypnotic One, there were clearly audible boos. Hypnosis’ reputation had dropped when he joined RRW, and then lately his attention hadn’t been fighting, but more on survival. Hypnosis had held the TV title for over months now, but his grip on it was at its weakest, and unfortunately it was now he’d come up against one of his greatest tests. Could Hypnosis battle on, proving as he has claimed many times he is the greatest TV champion… or will Sterling Silver take a step up to greatness, winning his first asylum title.

Hypnosis was in no mood to sit back and find out as he jumped onto the cell wall and driving off with a shoulder block that knocked Silver stumbling backwards. Hypnosis capitalised by following up with a hard lariat as the back of Silver’s head smacked off the mat. Silver was quick to get up however, which enraged the crowd who started an early “HYP-NO-SIS” chant… but the boo’s were still there. Hypnosis went for a collar and elbow tie up, an effective move in wrestling, but one proved to be fruitless and just plain dumb in fighting as Silver butted Ty and swiftly followed it up with a kick to the gut. Hypnosis stepped backwards to avoid any follow up attack. Silver stalked forwards like a hunter, as he went to grab Ty by the hair, finding nothing but stubble, he gripped Ty by the ears, pulled him towards him and landed a straight right to the chin. Hypnosis apt blood out at Silver, blinding him temporarily, which Hypnosis used to kick at Silver’s knee… dropping him down to one leg, and Ty followed up with a football kick snapping Silver’s head back, and sending him back down to the mat.

Hypnosis walked slowly towards Silver, recovering from Silver’s attacks. He got to Silver’s head, and undid his chain, ready to execute “Breaking Point”. He grabbed handful of Sterling’s hair and was about to unload the assault of metal and knuckle when Silver rolled over, and forward rolled, sending the two into a jumble of body parts on the floor. The two unravelled each other and stared into each others eyes, the intensity could be felt all over the arena as the crowd cheered in anticipation. Hypnosis thought for a second, wondering what weapon he’d use next, and while he momentarily took his concentration off Silver, Sterling dropped to his knees and started punching Hypnosis’ quadriceps. Hypnosis felt his thighs knotting up almost instantaneously as he reacted as quickly as possible, raising a knee into Silvers face. Sterling however seemed determined, and brought his head back, and started punching once more. Hypnosis executed a roundhouse kick, and then a back kick, sending Silver down to the mat, bleeding from the mouth and the cheek.

Hypnosis mounted the cell wall and sprung off with the Trademark moonsault, landing it perfectly, but Sterling got an elbow to Hypnosis’ face. Both fighters were down and seemingly out.

ONE…

TWO…

THREE…

FOUR…

FIVE… Sterling staggered up to his feet, and after examining Hypnosis’ condition, decided that he would have to do more damage to beat him.

Silver grabbed Hypnosis legs and wrenched back with a Boston crab. Hypnosis screamed in pain, inching his way forwards, but only; reaching the centre of the cell, he knew he had to find some other way of breaking the hold. Hypnosis hooked his arms round the legs of Silver, as Silver put the hold on tighter, and with one burst of adrenaline, Hypnosis pulled Silver’s legs from underneath him, and rocked his own body back. As Sterling lie in a state of confusion, Hypnosis quickly got to his feet, still holding Silver’s legs, completely reversing the Boston crab, however Hypnosis added his own twist to the move, now planting his knees in the small of Sterling’s back. “Retaliation”. Hypnosis pulled back in the move, before removing his knees from Silver’s back to get a better centre of gravity. Silver, fortunately near the cage started to claw his way up it, removing the pressure from his lower back. When he got to the top, one last push sent Hypnosis tumbling forwards, and with Sterling landing on top of him, Silver got straight to work at trying to rearrange Hypnosis’ face.

Hypnosis pushed Sterling off of him and wiped the blood from his nose, before struggling to his feet. He knew this fight was going to be hard, but he thought he would have had the advantage for longer than a minute at a time. Hypnosis was running low on ideas, and Sterling Silver seemed to be relentless. Hypnosis had one more trick up his sleeve. He looked up to the ramp behind Silver. Sterling turned round preparing for another distraction by Synn… but there was noone there?

By the time Sterling turned round Hypnosis was already at full speed, and connecting with the “Sledgehammer”, a powerful running polish hammer. Sterling fell to the floor; all the wind had been pounded from his body. Hypnosis dragged his body up, and went for the ring out, with his patented overhead Belly-to-belly suplex, but Silver’s dead weight is too much for Hypnosis’ to lift up and launch. He drops Silver, and decides to try and finish it with The Hypnotiser, an elevated Texas Cloverleaf. Hypnosis grabs Silver’s legs, but is pushed away. Hypnosis teeters on the cell rim, before gripping on as hard as he can, to avoid the ring out. Silver gets up to one knee and sees Hypnosis running at him. Silver drops, sending Hypnosis running too far. Silver springs up as fast as he’s physically able, and grabs Hypnosis in a standing dragon sleeper. Silver drops to his knees, still holding the dragon sleeper as Hypnosis struggles… his limbs flailing wildly like a fish out of water. As Hypnosis struggles to breathe, Silver lifts Hypnosis back up… only to drop backwards with a devastating reverse DDT.

Sterling seems like he’s firmly in control of this fight, as he gets to his feet. E flicks his hair out of his eyes, as a stream of blood flies off his face, a mix of his own and that of Hypnosis’. Silver approaches the downed Hypnosis, and in an attempt to send a message to the TV champion, he plans on winning the title the same way Hypnosis defended it just one week ago… by dumping him out of the cell.

Sterling picks Hypnosis up, and carries the dead weight up, and props him up against the cell wall. Sterling prepares to clothesline Hypnosis over the top, when Hypnosis suddenly bursts to life, driving a knee into Silver’s midsection, then, grabbing Silver’s bleached blonde hair, Hypnosis drives Sterling’s face into the same knee. Hypnosis picks Silver up in a fireman’s carry and this match seems to be over. Ty spins Silver out, but when he drops to plant Silver with the Ace Crusher, he is the only one falling, as Silver manages to get his feet on the floor. Hypnosis drives himself into the mat, as he groggily turns round to see silver, waiting for him. He scoops Hypnosis up, and is ready to drive him headfirst into the floor with The Tarnisher, a jumping cradle piledriver, when out of the crowd comes some long haired man. He jumps into the cell and kicks Sterling in the back, causing him to drop Hypnosis. Sterling turns round looking Synn dead in the eye, but not for long. Synn kicks Silver in the gut, and lifts him up for a suplex, before executing The Hellbound, a jumping 180-degree turn brainbuster.

Sterling is out for the count as Synn goes over to check on Hypnosis. Hypnosis is getting back to his feet, as he looks Synn in the eyes.

“Get the fuck out of here. I didn’t want you to get involved in this shit… you’re only supposed to be dealing with Carnage.”

Synn just smiles as he walks out of the cell, and heads back into the crowd. Hypnosis looks down at Silver and shakes his head, as he almost regrettingly picks up Sterling Silver and throws him out of the cell.

Winner: Hypnosis via Ringout

Inmate(c) Vs Mike Bear
Extreme Title.

“I Disappear” by Metallica.

How times change.

Not long ago, the sounds blasting through the arena would have blown its proverbial roof off, crowds rising to their feet with an adrenaline rush of support, now… they sat nonchalantly in their seats, hissing the man they had once cheered, with contempt.

Tyler Burton didn’t understand, never once had he turned his back on the fans, he’d fought to rid the Asylum of the fakes, the wrestlers… he’d kept the company alive, he’d helped it prosper.

“Fuck them.” Inmate whispered to himself, before parting the curtain and entering hells kitchen, the Asylum Extreme title resting over his shoulder, and remaining there right up to the point where he clambered up the steps and into the Asylum, he’d snatched a microphone from the announcer, but whatever he was going to say would forever remain as thoughts in his head.

”Too late too tell me it's over now
Falling apart at the seams
No angel sits on my shoulders now
I hold my head and it screams
There's just no easy way out."

“Gets me through” by Ozzy.

The crowd exploded, anything which Inmate had to say was quickly drowned out to the massive ovation received by Mike Bear, who stepped through the curtain, raising his arms suggestively to the crowd, he lowered them and fixed a glare on the Inmate, in the Asylum… who staed back coldly, Bear didn’t hesitate, striding down to the Asylum and clambering half way up the steps, stopping momentarily to address the fans one last time.

Inmate, wasn’t hesitating either.

CRACK!

The crowd erupted, the brawl well and truly on, Inmate showing no regard for his own well being, and launching himself over the Asylum rim, his body clattering in to an unwary Bear, the two tumbling down the steps to the arena floor, Bear taking the vast proportion of the impact, Inmate snapped up to his feet, almost foaming at the mouth, he grabbed Bear by the collar of his leather jacket, and pulled him into several solidly placed punched to the face, Bear too dazed to put up his hands in defence, his nose and mouth quickly bloodied by the shots.

“So wrestler? You wanna to fuck with the Asylum? You wanna fuck with me? We’ll see about that…” Inmate snarled, dragging Bear’s jacket over his head, one of the dirtiest yet most efficient fighting tricks in the book, Bear was no blinded, as Inmate tightened the jacket and simply send several still knee’s into the region where Bear’s head would be, releasing it and allowing the stunned Bear to drop to the floor.

“Get the fuck up.” Inmate snarled, dragging the jacket from the head of the dazed Bear, and slamming his head into the steps, before swiftly sending him flying into the guard rail! Bear lay on the cold arena floor, dazed, everything a blur to him following Inmate’s swift and efficient attack,

Inmate grabbed Bear by the face, and dragged him back to the Asylum, just about managing to get him in, he pulled him up to his feet, and hooked him into a waistlock.

German Release Suplex.

A wrestlers dream.

For a compact and explosive character such as Mike Bear, this was the ticket to offensive, with relative ease, he allowed the momentum of the hold to flip him right over, landing right on his feet, and doing what instinctively had won him many a fight thus far.

UnBearable!

Inmate yelped like a wounded dog, he knew this pain all too well, and desperately threw his free hand up trying to catch Bear with anything that might get him free, and his luck was in, hitting Bear with an absolute stunner to the tempe, Bear’s legs turned to jelly, and he stumbled back into the Asylum rim, the hold still locked on, barely… as Inmate suddenly twisted, getting his arm under Bear’s legs.

Suplex.

A superb variation, almost a firemans carry plex, Inmate lifted Bear out of the Asylum, and down through an area which fate had played a huge part, in Bear landing in.

The announce table!

KABOOM!

Mike Bear’s massive frame shattered it, monitors and sparks flying as Jean Paul and Malone scurried to safety, bear laying motionless in the wreckage, as Inmate fell to the ground and gasped desperately for air.

Inmate struggled to his feet, surveying the situation, he hopped out of the Asylum and to the arena floor, picking up the limp Bear, and preparing to whip him to the guard rail again.

Bear slammed on the breaks.

So did Inmate, pulling Bear back in toward him.

Waistlock,

Spin…

… backdrop driver

  The crowd gasped in worry, Inmate hitting a spinning backdrop driver on bear, who landed on the announce table with a snap, his head and neck disappearing disturbingly under his body, as he lay completely motionless on the canvas.

The Backdrop Driver was notorious, it’d ended careers and been used to end careers, but that however, was wrestling… and “ended career” wasn’t always strictly so, this time however… the real world beckoned, and Bear had just been dumped sickeningly onto his head and neck, for a man with a previous injury, it didn’t look good.

Inmate got to his feet.

“See what happens Bear? See what happens when you walk straight into someone’s livelihood and start to fuck around with it? Bad things happen Bear… I happen.” Inmate growled, approaching Bear just in time to hear something he wasn’t expecting.

“Shit happens” Bear responded through clenched teeth, a miraculous recovering bringing forth a monitor, which Bear swung with all his might, connecting solidly with the side of Inmate’s face!

Inmate fell to the ground, a throbbing headace hitting him in a split second, the side of his face already turning purple to black in a bruise that he would surely be carrying for a while, Bear rose to his feet and rubbed his neck, before picking Inmate up by the throat, and tossing him into the crowd!

Bear pursued, as Inmate crawled through the fans, each and all trying to block his path so that he couldn’t escape Bear… Bear snapped up a nearbye chair, and slowly drew it back, Inmate in big trouble.

CRACK!

A huge shock reaction eclipsed the arena, a man from the crowd wearing a hooded “Fuck Off” sweater using another chair to propel that which Bear held, straight into his face! Bear fell flat out, as Inmate turned to see the commotion.

CRACK!

Another chair shot by the man in the hooded sweater, who slammed down the chair and pushed his way through the crowd, hopping the guard rail and clambering up into the Asylum, snatching a microphone and drawing back his hood, the crowd exploding with cheers.

Rave Caprino.

“Shut the fuck up.” Rave began, the crowd reacting with a cheer, Rave wasn’t best pleased… he’d just taken down one of their heroes and they were still cheering, it was like nails scratching against a blackboard, he hated fans.

“You think a fucking doctors note is going to stop me Campbell? Wrong… you’re gonna need to bring a lot more to the table than that, I’m the fucking cancer Campbell, I’m eating away at your little empire… and there is no cure, so…” Rave was cut off, a several security guards swarming him and snatching the microphone away before he could say anything more controversial, oddly… the security guards were being more than a little forceful, hitting rave with several hard, hard shots… as Joe Campell suddenly appeared on the big screen.

“Ah Rave… look what you’ve gone and done again, must you insist on messing around with my shows? Has history not told you that such actions get the nothing better than a severe injury, you’ve gone straight against doctors orders Mr. Caprino, so unfortunately… I shall have to ban you from next weeks show, for your own safety of course… you can come back the week later if you like, that’s if you behave!” Joe said, Rave carried away by the guards, his leaps clearly mouthing “Fuck yourself.” In the general direction of Campbell’s face, which disappeared from the screen abruptly.

Winner: No Contest

Token Weed(c) Vs Kodiak Vic Creed
U.K. Title.

Two Weeks of hell for Sarah Creid....

Two Weeks of hell for Victor Creid....

Two Weeks of raising hell for Token Weed....

All culminating now...

At PERSECUTION!

So much blood had been spilled across the Asylum mat. But now what could be the bloodiest match is ready to go. The barbwire glinted slightly off the cage, the ladder set up in the middle of the ring looked like a great tower of doom for either competitor. Hanging high from the top sat the UK title, on the side of the barbwire hell sat little Sarah Cried, and Ayano Mikobashi, both tied to the chairs they sat in. The crowd began to get restless, almost breaking into a riot for the competitors in the match....

"Walk" by Pantera began to blare over the P.A. system as Vic Creed stepped out from behind the curtain, his arms taped heavily, his eyes narrowed, one thing was on his mind. Ripping Token limb from limb and making sure he'd never look at his daughter again. Creed walked to the cage and walked in through the door, he looked at his daughter when suddenly....

SNOWBLIND

...

The crowd exploded into boo's and cheers as the chords from System of A Down's song blared through the arena. Token Weed stepped out from behind the curtain and raised his arms into the air, he smiled at them all, a taunt seemingly. Then his eyes slowly drew down and went looking right at Vic Creed. Creed glared back, there eyes meeting. Creed began shouting and screaming, this match was total hell.. Only way to win the first two falls was knock out, the only way to win the third was to climb the ladder and grab the title....

Token walked down to the door, he began to enter the cage but was quickly knocked back wards a step by a Vic Creed fist. Token looked up at Creed... and he smiled. Creed swung again decking Token across the face... Token didn't move a muscle, all he did was smile....

Creed looked on in astonishment, he had floored Token with that same punch time and time again, and now it wasn't moving him... not an inch. Token seemingly exploded by surprise, delivering a kick to Creed's thigh, staggering him backwards. Token kicked again, drilling Creed in the exact same spot... Token kicked again.. and again... and again. Then, Creed fell.

Creed looked down at his leg, 5 welts were already forming on it, it throbbed in pain as the ref began to count.

1...

2...

3...

4...

5...

6...

7...

Creed looked up, looking right at his daughter, looking deep into her eyes, this first fall was for her. Creed then let out a mammoth like roar as he brought himself up to his feet, limping slightly on his leg. Token smiled, he was the aggressor now. Creed quickly swung, hitting the unsuspecting Token, knocking the smirk right off of his face. Token staggered back as Creed swung again, and again, and again. Finally Token looked up, his eyes glazed over, his face a bright color of red, the punches were having an effect... Instead of dropping Token now though, Creed had another idea...

Creed wrapped a mammoth hand around Token's neck and lifted him up into the air, Creed carried Token over to the barbwire cage wall, suddenly Token swung his left foot up around Creed and kicked him directly in the back of the head, causing Creed to fall face and chest first into the cage. It didn't work exactly how Token had planned though... Token fell also, draping himself across the rim of the cage. Token layed seeing the stars on the rim of the cage.

Creed quickly came to after the blow to the back of his head, to find himself wrapped in barbed wire. He pulled his arms off of the cage wall first, then he gave a tug pulling his face out of the barbwire. Blood covered his arms, and his face. It dripped lightly onto the mat. Creed looked at Token and smiled, he had him right where he wanted him. Creed wrapped his mammoth hands around Token's ankle and gave a tug ripping Token off, and across the barbwire. Token let out a scream of pain as he hit the ground and slumped in the corner. The ref began to count...

1...

2...

3...

4...

5...

6...

7...

8...

9...

....

10!

Creed let out a sigh of relief, as an official on the outside untied his daughter, letting her scamper up the ramp too the back. Creed was tired though, as he looked on in horror as Token began crawling to his feet. He finally stood, looking at Creed, he pulled his blood soaked shirt over his head and threw it to the ground. He looked at Creed, and Creed could see the numerous scars running up Token's persperating body, the muscles in Token's chest tensed with every breath, the muscles in his arms flexed with every movement. This was the fall Token wanted to win, this was the fall... He had to win.

Creed began to get anxious, looking at Token, the blood trickling down his face from the top of his head, the look he gave Creed made him just want to kill him. Then.... Token smiled. Creed couldn't believe that in this state Token would still taunt him, Creed began swinging his massive paws at Token like a wild man. But Token had a plan for this, he ducked down and rolled into Creed's knees. Creed fell like a tree, slowly tipping but landing with a great thud on the mat.

Token rolled to his feet quickly, as the Alaskan Juggernaut did the same. Token charged at Creed, delivering a spinning back kick to Creed's head, pushing him backwards towards the wall of the cage. Creed wrapped his hand out of instinct around the cage walling.... but more importantly around barbwire. Creed let out a scream as Token took a step back and leapt at Creed... PUMP KICK!

Creed twisted and flipped around, his hand still stuck in the cage wall. But now also was the back of his head and his back. Token smiled as he looked at Vic's hand, wrapped around the barbwire still, as Creed lay silent outside the cage. Token grabbed the ladder, laying it down, across Vic's hand. Token clambered up the ladder, almost like he was walking a plank. Token stopped right over Vic's hand and began jumping.... Up and down, up and down, up and down. Creed suddenly awoke, his hand possibly broken, he pulled his torso off the cage wall and pulled the ladder off of his hand, throwing it and Token into the guard rail.

Creed held his hand, blood spewing every where, Creed began pulling the tape off of his other wrist and wrapped it around his hand. Creed was a crafty person, he didn't want to pass out from blood loss. This of course gave Token some time. Token picked up a chair from the other side of the guard rail and swung it at Creed, but Creed raised his left hand and plowed the chair back into Token's face. Token spun around in a circle from the impact, while Creed stood up and knocked Token back into the barbwire with a clothes line.

Token had dropped the chair, and was now just how Dark had been. Crucified against the barbwire, Token looked up, and saw Creed standing there with the chair. He began to try to talk his way out of it...

"Come on Vic, that little bitch doesn't mean a thing to you," he said as Vic looked at him quizzically. He could of smashed his head like a water mellon against the barbwire. But Creed decided to listen to him...

"Vic, I'll let you win the third fall, you can climb up the ladder and grab the UK title, just let me have Ayano..." Token was quickly interrupted.

"Fuck you" were the last words he heard as the steel chair came crashing down across his head, for good measure Creed lifted the chair up once more and brought it down, crashing across Token's skull once more. The ref began counting the bloody mess that was Token...

1...

2...

3...

4...

5...

6...

7...

8...

9...

....

10!

Token had lost the second fall, but a third fall still remained and Creed had every intention of winning that fall as he blasted Token over the head with the steel chair, knocking what ever sense had returned to him in the ten seconds right back out of his skull.

Creed sat the ladder up and climbed to the Asylum rim using the ladder, he delivered a boot to Token's head, knocking him backwards and off of the barbwire. Creed smiled as he looked at a completely red back of Token, his jeans were even stained a reddish color. Creed hopped down off of the rim and pulled the ladder over to the title and set it up directly in the center of the Asylum cage. He stuck his foot on the first rung to the oviation of the crowd, then the second, then the third, every step the crowd cheered louder and louder.

Each loud cheer, slowly began to awaken Token. He looked at Vic Creed, standing on the fourth rung of the ladder, 16 more rungs to go for Vic. 16 more feet to go, Token pulled himself up using the guard rail, he stumbled to the Asylum ring of steel and barbwire. He wrapped his hands around the top of the cage, pulling himself over. As he came over his hands pulled themselves off of the cage. From rolling over the barbwire Token's chest now began to bleed a line of crimson right in the middle of it. Token sat their for a moment and looked up at Vic... then Token's chin slumped to his chest, as he toppled over right beside the ladder.

Creed looked at Token for a moment, then began to climb once more. Once more the crowd cheered every step, Creed was now, 10 rungs away from the UK title. 10 rungs from his first Asylum gold. He took the next step, and lifted his arm out to cheer with the fans. Then suddenly the fans mouth's dropped open, as Token Weed stood up, and walked over to the ladder and began climbing. Creed looked directly at Token, his mouth wide open, blood still coming down his face. Vic Creed was stunned...

Token climbed the first ten rungs like a bat out of hell, and before Creed knew it Token was hitting him with jabs straight through the gap in the rungs. Creed went to put a fist through the gaps, but Token dodged it, and swung around to Creed's side. He grabbed Creed by the tights and pulled for all he was worth as Creed went flying down to the mat. The crowd was stunned, as the Asylum was completely quiet... Token looked down at Creed, and smiled, he clambered up the last 10 rungs and grabbed the UK title. He began to climb down, as Creed stood up and looked at Token amazed. Then...

Like a cloud of black dust the supposed phantasm of Kenny Rock made his way through the curtain and made his way to the cage steadily holding a steelchair and Almighty. KVC turned around only to be met with a suprise steelchair shot and several more in rapid percussion onto the back of KVC. Token got to his feet - the bloody mess he was - and decided the last thing he's gonna stand for is having his ass beaten by a fucking ghost. Token picked up a steelchair of his own and charged towards the phantasm.

WHAM! The phantom had turned and gracefully swung Almighty into the chair, crushing the metal into a dent that left a bloodier inprint on Token's Face! The crowd erupted in cheers! Until...The ghost continued his beating of KVC with the steelchair. Everytime KVC was struck it seemed that his anger grew, the ghost lifted the chair into the sky only for KVC to spring up and grab it! The struggle the chair was on! KVC easily overpowered the phantasm and wrenched the chair from it's grasp! KVC lifted the chair - preparing to strike!!

But, a swift boot to the nuts from the phantom kept that from happening. KVC convulsed and dropped to the canvas in a heap. The crowd was really pissed now as the phantasm picked up Almighty and raised it to the sky in a hail of boos. The phantom was all set to bury the hammer
into Creed's head...but...he couldn't.

But, a someone had thrown a candy jar that shattered on the back of his head.

The phantom turned around and there stood...

Sarah Cried.

A barely audible laugh could be heard as the phantom circled the noticeably frightened 10-year old like a shark. He circled and circled and didn't make any move to stop her as she went to check on her father. It's at that moment that the phantom...

removed his mask.

...

...

Xearo L'Vagrant.

Or better yet.

Villam Ender.

"Heh." was all that he said as a droplet of blood tickled it's way down his temple reddening a lock of his black and white peppered hair. Villam lifted Almighty into the sky once more - and set his sights on Sarah. The crowd once again jeered him as he brought it down.....!!!

...Straight into the chest of Kodiak Vic Creed. KVC staggered back from the blow a bit unphased. Villam however wouldn't be easily distracted. Villam followed up with jab to KVC's ribs.Villam jabbed upward in a sweeping motion and cleanly got KVC on the chin! KVC still wasn't going down! Villam frowned and swong horizontally nailing KVC in the ribs yet again! Villam swung the opposite direction...Ribs. Swung again...Shoulder! Swung again...Face! Swung again...and a miss!!

Creed barely ducked under the last one, but what good it did him as Villam simply twisted and followed through with his swing crushing KVC with an over head blow. The girl ran to her father and began to sob over what might be a corpse and all Villam could do was smile and once again raised the famed Sledgehammer to the sky. Villam to a good look around to survey his "work" and exited the cage. By the curtains...as the crowd threw paper cup and badly torn Asylum T-shirts at him. Villam attached the Sledgehammer on the hook on his belt.

Smiled.

Then he took bow.

Welcome back.

Little Sarah Cried looked at her father, she knelt beside him, he had done all of this to just save her... just for her. She laid there, writing on his chest in his own blood. "I love you dad." A doctor knelt beside him... as Token Weed stumbled up the ramp... UK Title over his shoulder.

Winner: Token Weed

Dissident(c) Vs Syndication
Team Titles.

The fans in attendance awaited the next match on the card, which was announced beforehand as being for the Asylum Tag Team Titles. The fans knew that two teams that over the last three or so weeks would be at the center of all of this: Dissident and Syndication.

The fans didn’t need to wait any longer as “Crush Em” by Megadeth hit the Arena PA system, and two figures exited from backstage. One wore a black leather jacket, and slung a sledgehammer over his shoulder, sneering at the crowd as he headed down the rampway. Meanwhile, the other man, Adam Nowell, merely smirked at the boos from the crowd, and Hans and Adam entered the Asylum.

“Crush Em” shortly after would be replaced by “Testify” by Rage Against The Machine. The fans exploded with cheers as Dissident, composed of Mike Bear and Fear, stood at the top of the rampway, showing off the tag team titles to the crowd as the cheers went to an even higher level. Bear, though, looked a little weaker then usual due to the match before he had with Inmate.

Hans glared at Bear for a second, and then took the mike from the ring announcer, and put it to his lips:

“Hey, Bear, vhy don’t you make zis match a elimination rules tag title match?” asked Hans, as Bear rubbed his chin in thought…for a split second.

“Sure.” Said Bear, as he walked down the rampway towards the Asylum with Fear, and then went into a trot mode, and finally, a full sprint. As the two opponents entered the Asylum, the door was slammed shut, and all four men…smiled.

Suddenly, Fear caught Adam off guard, smacking him with his tag team title upside his head, as Adam stumbled around. Bear attempted to do the same, but Hans was prepared, and ducked the belt shot, and hit Bear in the jaw with a Yakuza kick.

Hans smiled as Bear turned around, gritting his teeth as Hans. Bear tossed away the title, allowing the ref to pick it up, and quickly Bear pounced on Hans, tackling him to the mat. Bear began to throw hard rights and lefts into the face of Hans as the fans cheered Bear on, until Adam Nowell managed to kick him off, which responded with boos.

Fear grabbed Adam from behind, and release german suplexed him to the concrete floor of the Asylum, his head bouncing off, and getting busted up. The fans exploded with cheers as this happened, and Bear turned around for a second to smile at what Fear was doing to Adam, but Hans used the distraction towards his own advantage.

The fans booed as Hans leg sweeped Bear to the floor, and slapped on a Canadian Crossface, wretching Bear’s head back, trying to either make him tap or to break his neck, and get him eliminated by knock out, as well as taking him out for good.

However, Bear was too strong for the maneuver, and was able to get up as Hans continued to lock on the move, which was rather stupid, as Bear rammed his back into the Asylum walls. Hans lied on the ground, as Bear shook his head at him.

Meanwhile, Fear lifted Adam off the mat, and stared at him smiling. He grabbed Adam, and lifted him up into a two handed choke position. Then, he uttered a few words:

“Buh-bye, bitch.”

Adam was quickly tossed out of the Asylum, eliminating him from the match, and thus making it a handicap match. Fear turned to Bear, and saw that it was almost done, so he rested on the Asylum wall, and awaited their victory.

Bear kneeled over, and lifted Han’s head from the concrete floor, before locking on…

UnBearable.

The fans in attendance went crazy as Hans started to scream in pain as the Dragon Sleeper was locked in, Bear adding more pressure to the move as Hans got weaker and weaker by the second. Bear looked towards Fear to get his approval, but saw something bad going on.

Adam, apparently had never heard of playing fair or giving people chance, picked up a steel chair, folded it and took it to right behind Fear. Fear didn’t hear the noise of the chair crashing down to the floor, but he did feel Adam’s chain grabbing his throat.

Fear tried to pull the chain off, but as Adam was a fanatical psychopath, he merely applied more pressure to the chain strangle hold. The fans in attendance booed Adam as ultimately pulled on the chain at full force, causing Fear to have to flip over the Asylum, therefore getting eliminated himself.

Bear saw his partner and friend getting eliminated, and let Hans go as he headed to the ref. While he began arguing with the referee, the fans in attendance booed. Unsure what to think of the booing, Bear turned around, only to be met by a full force shot from Hans’ sledgehammer.

Bear stumbled back as the fans exploded in boos, and Hans’ hit him in the skull once again by the sledgehammer, this time causing him to become busting open. Hans ordered the ref to count the knock out when Bear collapsed to the concrete floor in a pool of blood.

At four, Bear began to get up, staring at a smiling Hans. He quickly made the smile go away, though, when he executed a double leg take down, taking the Dresden fighter down in one large movement of his arms as the fans cheered him on.

Bear slapped on UnBearable once again, and the fans began going nuts as Hans tried getting out of the maneuver, but failed to do it. After several seconds, he apparently passed out, and the ref checked to see if he was really out.

The referee raised Hans’ arm once, and it fell down, as the fans began to cheer.

The referee raised his arm again, and it fell down.

The referee raised it again, but this time, it stayed up.

Bear couldn’t believe it: he had outlasted his finisher. Bear got up, and began to lift Hans up. However, Hans caught Bear off guard with an elbow in the gut, followed by his knock out finisher, the Dresden Powerhouse.

Bear collapsed to the floor, and the referee began to count Bear out. At around five, however, Hans lifted Bear up, and hooked his head.

He swung Bear over the Asylum wall as the fans exploded with boos. Hans turned around, waiting for the bell to ring and to be declared the winner, but it never happened.

Bear had held onto the top of the Asylum being merely inches away from touching the floor.

The fans exploded with cheers as Bear flipped back into the ring, and grabbed a caught off guard Hans and executed…

Whiplash.

Hans’ head bounced off the mat as Bear did a throat slashing maneuver, locking in the UnBearable for a third time this match.

This time, Hans’ tapped out.

The bell rang, and Bear and Fear were declared the winners.

However, Fear was getting hit by the chair on the outside by an extremely pissed off Adam Nowell, who didn’t give a shit about whether or not they won that night. Bear walked outside, and stared at Adam…for a second.

Adam never expected to be grabbed from behind and hit with the Whiplash, but it happened. The fans exploded with cheers as Fear and Bear began to beat down on Adam as the ref attempted to pull them off and hand them their belts.

After the ref threatened to reverse the decision, Fear and Bear grudgingly stopped their assault on Adam, and walked away, still the tag team champions…for now.

Winner: Dissident via Ringout/Submission

A.D.(c) Vs Borst
Asylum Championship.

"Between Angels & Insects" by Papa Roach played, as the current Asylum Champion made his way down the aisle, ready for this huge match. Borst had laid down the challenge for A.D. to earn the Asylum Championship, and A.D. was going to attempt to do so.

The fans were going wild as A.D. made his way to the ring, but the cheers soon turned to jeers as "Fuckin' in the Bushes" by Oasis played, and Borst quickly stormed down the aisle. It was his big comeback match, and a chance to win a record fourth Asylum Championship. He looked psyched.

The two men stood face to face in the ring, not moving a muscle. A.D. eventually steps back and crouches down in a fighting stance, ready to kick things off.

The fans roared, anticipating a huge match-up. Borst's long awaited comeback, and A.D.'s chance to "earn" the Asylum Championship. It doesn't get much bigger than this, and Borst was taking things VERY seriously for once.

He was focused. Totally focused. A.D. seemed slightly surprised by this, but also pleased. He wanted a fight. A hard fought fight. But the early indications that Borst was treating this as the biggest match of his life went out the window when he finally made some movement, putting his hand down his shorts and pulling out his dick, waving it A.D., shouting "Come on then!"

Now that's a novel taunt. One that absolutely no-one appreciated, but Borst seemed quite smug after he put his manhood away. It had certainly thrown A.D. off of his game plan, as A.D. lost his cool quickly, charging at Borst.

A quick clothesline took A.D. down, and Borst quickly pulled A.D. back up, whacking his head on the rim of the cage, following it with a hard stomp to A.D.'s groin as soon as A.D.'s body hit the mat.

A chorus of boo's filled the arena, as Borst arrogantly raised his right hand, while looking down on A.D. who looked in some pain after the bollock stomping. Borst gave A.D. a quick wink, and that was just too far.

A.D. scrambled to his feet and tackled Borst to the mat, violently unleashing rights and lefts on Borst.

Now usually you'd expect the victim to cover up, for fear of... well being killed. But that thought didn't even seem to cross Borst's mind, as A.D.'s fists smacked against Borst's face time and time again. Each smack sickened the fans, and each smacked caused a spray of blood.

Eventually the referee pulls A.D. off of Borst, who's laid out on the mat, dripping with blood. His nose is broken, he had several large cuts on his face, and his eyes are already beginning to swell.

It was practically over already. Borst had mocked too much. He claimed he'd take the match seriously. A match that no-one expected him to lose. His huge comeback match. But flopping his dick out and taunting his opponent had got him no-where. The ref's count reached 7, and the only movement from Borst was the blood oozing from his forehead, and the odd flinch of his right eye.

8!

Nothing much still, other than the pool of blood under Borst's head continuing to grow.

9!

Borst suddenly coughed violently, blooded spraying from his mouth, and one of his front teeth coming out too. The fans gasped, and many probably headed for the bathroom to throw up, as somehow Borst got to his feet.

It was a sickening site. Blood pouring from his mouth and face, dripping down his chest and hitting the mat. A.D. cringed when he looked at the standing Borst for the first time, and took a step back as the ref went to check on Borst.

"Are you OK? How many fingers am I holding up?" asked the ref, as he held up three fingers. Borst coughed, spraying a small amount of blood on the ref's shirt, and tried to reply. The word wouldn't come out, but he didn't need to say it in the end, as A.D. charged Borst, knocking him to the mat with a hard shoulder to shoulder collision.

Advantage, Dalton.

This would be perhaps his only chance to truly prove himself, a worthy Asylum champion, Borst was down… and common knowledge that Borst being on the defensive was like sending a lamb to the slaughter, he had no chance, simply put… Borst had no “defensive.”

THUD!

A stiff kick with the laces by Dalton caught Borst around the side of the skull, sending a plethora of blood and sweat hurling across the Asylum canvas in small drops, covering A.D.’s shoe, Borst hadn’t even attempted to get his hands up, he simply shook his head trying to regain compusure.

THUD!

Another shot by A.D., this time a solid crack into the back of Borst’s head with his right hand, sending Borst falling face first to the canvas, A.D. didn’t wase any time, sitting down directly on Borst’s back like a crocodile wrangler covering the beasts eyes so to confuse it, Angel however didn’t take such delicate procedured, grabbing Borst by the ear, and using it to thrust his face solidly down into the canvas.

Again,

And again…

… and again.

A.D. got to his feet and stepped back, Borst’s face now completely red with blood, the Asylum’s canvas carrying notoriety in its lack of “give” Borst somehow, someway… pushed himself up, reminiscent to a scene in Fight Club, blood poured from his face in an explosive stream on the canvas, his face so bloody that it’d left an actual impression on the canvas, something that Joe would likely sell to the highest bidder.

Borst stumbled to his feet almost in a trance, his chest now painted red with blood, his face resembling a twisted pile of metal that’d just been put through the crusher. Somehow, Borst… unexplainably, managed to force out a smile.

SMACK!

That was swiftly smashed from his face, another stunning right hand punch by A.D. spinning and knocking Borst to the mat, once again, Borst had made no attempt to block the strike, spinning and dropping back to the canvas, as Dalton tore his own shirt off, and double wrapped it around the throat of Borst, sitting on his back and leaning back, pulling Borst’s face off the canvas. Borst’s hands finally coming up, gripping the shirt that was strangling the life out of him.

Borst’s eyes were rapidly turning red, the veins within struggling to circulate blood, Borst breathed out, and as he did, a large amount of blood spilled from his mouth, as he began to get light headed, A.D. wrenched and tightened one last time, before releasing the comatose Borst to fall flat on the canvas.

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

8.

Disbelief.

Long before a nine count, Borst was up, but he didn’t appear to be “Borst.” At all.

Apparently, he’d been possessed by the power of Hogan.

Borst stumbled about in a heavy daze, A.D. wearing a head scratching expression of confusion, as Borst clenched his fists and began to shake them furiously, walking slowly around the Asylum in a stomping motion.

THUD!

A.D. bashed him in the head with a fist, but it appeared to have no effect, Borst’s cheeks were now filling with air rapidly.

SMACK!

A.D. again, this time kicking Borst straight in the ass, and punching him in the head as follow up, suddenly, Borst stopped.

His black, bruised… blood shot eyes opened wide.

And he pointed at A.D.

In the 80’s, these sort of actions could blow the rooftop off Madison Square Garden, today however… MSG sat quietly in confusion, wondering exactly why Borst was pretending to be Hulk Hogan.

A.D. ran at him.

Borst ran back.

BAM!

“Clothesline from Yankland.”

The crowd exploded with concern, A.D.’s head almost removed by the massive blow, he flipped right through the air and landed flat out on the canvas motionless, Borst falling back on his face.

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7… a dazed and still confused Borst gets to his feet, but watched in a rage as A.D. did the same.

Borst appeared to shout “Brotha”… but that was merely speculation, as he quickly knocked A.D. back down to the canvas, and participated in perhaps the most ridiculous act ever seen at an Asylum event.

He ran to the “ropes”… which in reality weren’t ropes at all, Borst found this out the hard way, springing at full pace into the steel Asylum rim, and stopping to grimace and rub his back, he continued however, running and dropping a Legdrop of sheer DOOM across A.D.’s throat.

In the 80’s, this was the end.

A.D. got up to his feet, more bewildered from the attack as opposed to beinf any worst for wear, he spun Borst around by the shoulder as he cupped his hand around his ear and gestured mockingly to the crowd, and smacked him across the face, whatever he’d done… he’d woken the real Borst back up.

CRUNCH!

Borst send a swift kick between A.D.’s legs, knocking him to the canvas, and affording Borst time and space to reach over the Asylum rim, to pull in a chair, he cracked it shut, and waited for A.D. to get to his feet, before throwing it into his face.

BLAM!

A.D. had been made a fuckhead.

Almost.

It appeared as though A.D. had done his homework, ducking as Borst’s fist sent the chair spiralling into fifth row somewhere, knocking out one of the attending fans, Borst watched the chair missile into the crowd, and turned just in time to see A.D. advancing.

BOOM!

Borst send him straight back, lowering his head and headbutting Dalton in the face with immense power, A.D.’s head snapped back, blood spraying from his now torn lip and he rested on the Asylum mesh, the blood slowly streaming down, as Borst grabbed him by the hair, and tossed him into the Asylum mesh, lacerating his skin in many places, the blood now flowing solidly, as Borst ran at Dalton, looking for an old school spear out of the Asylum!

A.D. moved.

CRACK! Borst hit the Asylum rim and stumbled back, throwing a punch at the exact same time as A.D., each man connecting and knocking the other to the canvas in what was quickly becoming an epic!

This is sickening! Borst is covered in blood. The mat is covered in blood. Both men were down and pretty much out! You can bet this wasn't how Borst imagined his big comeback to be. Not even the Hogan style insomnia rush could turn things in his favour. Maybe he's not cut out to be a top fighter anymore... you know that was going through his mind as the ref reached 8, and A.D. had managed to get to his feet.

Just two counts away from retaining the title, and EARNING the title. A.D. was going to beat Borst, and everyone knew he deserved to win. He'd dominated the legend.

9.

The ref wandered over to the edge of the cage and reached out to take the Asylum Championship, ready to hand to A.D.

10.

Nope. Borst had scrambled to his feet and tackled A.D. down to the mat. Borst was kicking viciously at A.D., stomping and smacking him in the mid section... and then in the groin. Where else would he kick him last?

The match was very much still going, and Borst had the upper hand once more. Maybe he could have a successful comeback after all.

Spinebuster.

Only gets a 7 count on A.D., who gets up and walks straight into a solid clothesline, followed by yet ANOTHER stomp to the groin.

"Count!" Borst screamed, blood spraying from his mouth as he shouted at the ref.

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

But A.D. got up yet again. A.D. had spent much of the match dominating Borst, so he had hardly recieved any punishment from Borst. But he was about to, as Borst called for a steel chair.

It's Fuckhead time.

The chair tossed at A.D.!

Borst swings!

A.D. ducks!

BACK BODY DROP! BACK BODY DROP! BACK BODY DROP!

Borst goes flying over the cage, his body hitting the mats outside with a thud!

A.D. wins and the crowd go absolutely wild! And Borst was having a fit on the outside. He couldn't believe that he just lost his comeback match... CLEANLY!

Borst's face was a mess. A.D. had given him the beating of his life, and A.D. has most definitely EARNED the Asylum Championship.

As A.D. celebrates in the ring, Borst attempts to climb back into the Asylum, but suddenly the massive blood loss he's endured kicks in. Borst passes out at ring side, as a pool of blood quickly surrounds his body, but all A.D. can do is revel in his glory.

He's beaten the so called best, and done cleanly. A.D. is on top of the fighting world, and for once, he almost looks happy.

Winner: A.D. via Ringout

Credits
Ben: Hypnosis Vs Sterling Silver.
Brock: Token Weed Vs Kodiak Vic Creed.
Mike R: The River of dreams?
Wanchai: Aftermath.
Burton: Unfinished Business.
Tomer: Impetigo Vs The Masked Man, Dissident Vs Syndication.
Tommy: Nerva Vs Koji Tamura, Jessica Jenkins Vs Brittany.
Steve: Fuck?, A.D. Vs Borst.
Joe: Opening, Contract Adjustments, Public Service Announcement, Inmate Vs Mike Bear, A.D. Vs Borst.