And so, Kellen Kinkade made his way in agony... toward familiar battleground.

Only did he now understand the true importance of resting the mind and the body, at Uncut... he'd gone into a match with Mike Ritz un-rested and unprepared... and paid a dear price, Ritz had won... and the series was tied at 1-1.

But hate, hate kept pulling him back here... back to the Asylum to settle scores, Carnage had made a challenge and he would be damned if he was going to shy away from it, injured or not.

As he hobbled toward the shining lights of the arena, a car slowly pulled up beside him, slowing down... the sleek jet black window rolled down.

"So, where do you think you're goin'?" A voice echoed from within.

Kinkade turned to see Biggs Dangsta hanging partially out of the window of the vehicle.

"What I do in my time is none of your business Biggs, now leave me alone." Kinkade growled, continuing his hobble toward the arena... the car however, slowly crawled next to him.

"Hah, maybe not... but Knight? You bet your ass its his business, he told you not to be here... now turn around and go home." Biggs replied.

"Listen, Biggs... 21w or not, I'm off duty... this is something I have to do, you want to step in my way, that's fine... you just won't like what happens."

Open.

Close.

Biggs was out of the car and onto the sidewalk, standing tall between Kinkade and his destination.

"I don't think you understand, pal... you don't have a choice here, either you turn around... or I'll turn you around." Biggs sneered, folding his arms.

"You know something Biggs, you talk a good fight... maybe it isn't in my best interests to go out there and fight afterall... maybe I'll be in better shape say, oh... Thursday?" Kinkade said with a smirk.

"The hell is that supposed to mean?" Biggs grunted.

"I think you know what it means Biggs, you want me to stay away from Carnage tonight? Fine... you got it, but on one condition dawg, yo put your money where your mouth is, you and me... Uncut, Millennium title on the line?" Kinkade replied, a smile across his face.

"I tell you what punk, you fuckin' got it... now get outta my face before I do something that I regret." Biggs sneered, stepping back into the vehicle and giving an order for it to continue toward the stadium, as it did... Kellen Kinkade vanished back into the night, content with developments.

The sound of a phone ringing sounds around the arena as the loudspeakers cut into a conversation over one of the telephones in the building. After a few short rings the click sounds and a very low sounding "Hello?" meets everyone's ears.

That voice is very familiar.

"Yes. Do you know who this is? You had better, Kent."

"Ssh. Can't you stop being a moron for just a second?" the other voice questions with a sound of anxiousness.

"Anyhow, I've decided that you need not kill him. Just rough him up. I've signed a contract for you in the Asylum and your debut will be one of magnificence."

A slight pause for a second.

"Magnificence?" the other voice questions.

"Campbell!" Tyler Burton roared, he was pacing with intent... for tonight... for the first night in a long time, he was free... the freedom wasn't something that the Inmate enjoyed, or wanted.

Joe, somewhat suspiciously... lowered his head and proceeded to pace quickly down the corridor in the opposite direction of the Asylum Champion... who not surprisingly, was a lot quicker on his feet than the poorly exercised owner.

"Woah woah, slow down Campbell... you and me got business to talk over." Inmate shouted once more, rushing up behind Joe and spinning him around by the shoulder, before stepping back and adjusting the glinting silver Asylum championship which sat over his shoulder.

"Erm... yeah, right Pete... go ahead." Joe stammered, adjusting his collar.

"You look a little edgy boss, problems?" Inmate said with a rare smirk.

"Eh... no, just stress... now can we get a move on Pete?" Joe said once again, Inmate squinting for a moment, he'd never get used to being called Pete.

"Yeah, sure thing... I basically want to know what the deal is tonight, who am I facing?" Inmate replied.

"I, er... well... was thinking of giving you the night off as it goes Tyler, why don't you get..."

"Night off? What's wrong... you think I'm gonna rest on my laurels cuz' I'm the champ? Think again Campbell... come on, I know you're holding out on me... who am I fighting?" Inmate said, giving Joe a playful punch on the shoulder, prompting a rather hard grimace out of Joe, who'd almost had it torn from the socket just under a week ago by 21wrestling's Kellen Kinkade.

"Well, yeah... its, kind of a surprise Pete." Joe struggled to get the words out.

"Oh, a surprise is it? I get it Joe... tryin' ta keep me on my toes as usual, well... that's fine, I like surprises." Inmate said with a smirk, before turning away from Joe and pacing, content... down the corridor toward his locker room.

"You like surprises? Not this one." Joe said with a disheartened sigh... beads of sweat were now running down his forehead, because he knew something that Tyler Burton did not.

Backstage, Milo Samus walks down the hallway with a look of pride. Obviously, trying to cover his fear by just walking in such a big Asylum event, where anything's bound to happen.

And, by god, it usually does.

From absolutely nowhere, Milo runs right into a large Mexican fellow. He jumps almost out of his skin, internal organs, and skeleton.

"Woah, esse!" El Janito said in Milo's general direction.

"Oh... Hey. Sorry, I'm just a little--"

"STUPID!" Steve butted in. Beef reached over and slapped him upside the back of the head.

Milo just pushed his way through Mega Job and continued down the hallway. His distraught look got many a sympathetic eye from the crowd at the Asylum. Sympathy from everyone except for probably Eddie Cheno who's somewhere smogging a janitors closet.

The exit shone brightly as heaven in Milo's eye as his heart lifted. It was almost religious as he went to open the door. "Freedom." he mumbled.

Almost religious...

If religious is finding out you wasted your life being a hard-ass and God found you unworthy of even thinking about letting your dog taking a piss on the heavenly fire-hydrants. Suddenly, then, you find yourself burning in hell...

And with a nine millimeter stuck in your goddamn face again.

This time, however, the attacker was not covered and everyone in the world... And probably heaven as well... Could see he was not any normal hitman. He was one they least expected.

Kent Anthason. Professional wrestler. *Gag*

Milo had a single tear sliding down his cheek.

Anthason opens his mouth for the first time on Asylum television. "I've heard it all before. You have a wife and three kids, lots of family pets, a bunch of friends who could beat my ass and plenty of great lawyers just waiting to tear me apart limb from limb..."

"Uhh. How about a siamese cat?"

"New one on me..."

And with that Milo takes off at a sprint and makes the first right he can, ducking behind a garbage can. Kent was a mean one, but he didn't SEEM very bright. Something odd struck Samus, that nobody in their right mind could actually run away from a gun-man.. Very odd indeed.

His mind was fogged, and his words to Joe Campbell about the fall of wrestling rung in his head. Anthason had always seemed like a nice guy, a fan favorite. And now, he's chasing Milo down with a gun...

What a way to fit in, eh?

Welcome to the Asylum.

There was a stage in the middle of this mall, with a "Mall Brawl: When Janitors Collide" hanging from it. Standing on this stage was former IWO wrestler, and current 21W/Action wrestler, Joey Malone. In a bath robe. As if he was literally kidnapped out of his bed.

"Ugh... how the hell did you people find me, and did you really have to kidnap me from my bed?" he said, idly complaining and confirming what we all feared. "My wife must be worried sick!"

Joey sighed. "And why in the hell is there another one of these, anyway... I thought we agreed to drop the idea after I left IWO... ugh..."

Joey shook his head, and began the introductions.

"Hello, the following contest is going to be even stupider than the last stupid match these idiots did, and it's apparently for the Janitorweight title or something like that. The current champion is... what in the HELL? This guy is STILL alive?!"

"Highway to Hell" by AC/DC began to blare, drawing out Ken War, the current North Dakotan Janitorweight champion. Apparently, he had JUST died at that moment, as he was carrying various organs of his to the stage.

"Right. That was QUITE disgusting. Now, next up is a trio that I have to unfortunately acknowledge the existence of... ladies and gentlemen, they are Mega Job: The Epic Tag Team... can I please leave, now?" Joey said. He sighed a disappointed sigh when someone told him otherwise.

"Super Bon Bon" by Soul Coughing hit, as all three members of Mega Job; El Janito, Beef, and Steve, made their way to the stage. Steve was looking like he wanted to maim someone, while the other two members of Mega Job just kind of stood there and looked goofy, as usual.

"Erm, right. Anyway, the next competitor is..." Joey started, before he shuffled his cards and noticed who the next guy is. "Christ, Birdman... why are you ASSOCIATED with these losers?"

"Stroke Me" by Bill Squire hit, as the Mysterious Birdman fluttered down from the second story of the mall and landed in the center of the stage, all while making various clucking noises and making pelvic thrusts at some of the elderly women who have chosen to shop at this mall today.

"MUWAKEKEKEKE... I AM THE MYSTERIOUS BIRDMAN 0¿0, AND I CLUCK AT YOUR VERY EXISTENCE WHILE THRUSTING MY MIGHTY BIRD MANHOOD IN YOUR GENERAL DIRECTIONS. YOU WILL ALL FEEL THE FEATHERY BADNESS OF THE MOST RUTHLESS HEEL THIS SIDE OF RICHARD "TRICKY DICK" NIXON!!!!"

"Riiiight, and who drugged MY coffee this morning...?" Joey said. He decided to continue his introductions.

"Sellout" by Biohazard hit.

the Legion of Dairy.

"Okay, so this is the Legion of Dairy? No wonder the ratings are slumping for the Asylum." Joey said, chuckling. He's a 21W wrestler, of course he's going to make comments like that.

egg NOG and cHEESE just kind of looked at each other and shrugged, before they made their stand on the stage. They weren't really sure why there were there, maybe they were just kidnapped out of their beds like Joey was.

"So Fresh, So Clean" by Outkast began to play, drawing out the man that had won the last two Mall Brawl: When Janitors Collide events. He was one of the members of the Elite Janitor Squad of Destruction and Cleanliness. He was Janitor Seven.

"Dude, Seven?! What in the hell, is this like the Twilight Zone or something?! Christ, how much are you people paying me to do this, anyway, if I have to meet my former managers?" Joey asked. Seven stepped onto the stage and whispered something in his ear.

"Well, at least I do get paid." Joey said, with a slight smile.

"Date Rape" by Sublime hit, and Schitzo Tod, a former IWO World Heavyweight champion, walked out to the stage, all while looking very Woody Allen-like. Luckilly, he wasn't in his underwar, or wearing a Darth Vader helmet.

"Next up, is... dude! Tod!" Joey said, before he went for a high five for Tod. Tod missed completely and ended up clotheslining himself using Joey's arm. Joey, with his hand still up, looked down at Tod.

"Er, that's not normal, is it?" Joey asked. He then corrected himself a moment later. "Right. Not normal. Gotcha."

As Tod picked himself up, "Short Skirt, Long Jacket" by Cake hit, bringing out Avo Chavez.

Avo had apparently raided various fashion stores, because he was, indeed, wearing a short skirt and a long jacket, over his usual wrestling attire. He also wore a baseball cap, but he kept the mask on under it.

"...do I even have to DIGNIFY you with an introduction?" Joey asked, looking at Avo. Avo nodded yess, so Joey sighed. "Ladies and gentlemen... Avo Chavez!"

As Avo stood around and started to eat Cheetos, "Destro's Secret" by Dillinger Escape Plan began to play, signalling the arrival of the original IWO screwball... Mad Max. Mad Max was wearing long, flowing white robes and carried a big gnarled cane. He had a long bear and long hair, and basically looked like Jesus.

He took the microphone from Joey's hand. Joey just shrugged and walked off the stage, as Mad Max spoke. "I am Mad Jesus!! REDUNDANT!!!"

With that, "Mad Jesus" sat down on the stage, tossed down the microphone, and proceeded to tweedle his thumbs with his manager, a baseball bat with a sheet of paper taped on it that read "John the Baptist".

Of course, that was only eleven participants. There were supposed to be twelve.

"Now You're A Man" by DVDA.

Appearing on the second floor, holding a rope, the man whom that song belonged to stood right on the railing. His kilt blew in the wind(wherever in the hell the wind was coming from, we don't want to know), his "Warrior Helmet" glistened in the sun that shone through the skylight, and he... oh my HOLIEST GOD, who the HELL chose THIS camera angle, anyway?!

But it was obvious as to the identity of the man that swung through the air and LITERALLY took Ken War's head off as he swung past the stage.

Zotan of Gribblfritz.

With that, the bell rang, and the match began.

Immediately, Janitor Seven, El Janito, Avo Chavez, and Schitzo Tod rushed over to the presently-dead body of Ken War and dogpiled him. A referee, fresh off of getting some coffee from Starbucks, half-heartedly wandered over to the dogpile and made the count.

One.

Two.

Three.

Ken War was eliminated.

What a shock.

As all four men got to their feet and raised their hands, they all immediately realized that the match had started, and they all started to brawl with each other.

This match of utter stupidity... had begun.Now, for other matches~!

"21wrestling..."

Intense boos greeted the words as they escaped Joe Campbell's mouth, he walked casually out onto the aisle with the rest of "Team Campbell" in tow, Hans Krueger, Carnage... Providence and Nerva... with the Inmate absent, seeking out his partner Token Weed.

"A lot of things come to mind when those hallowed words escape my mouth." Joe said with an arrogant smile, he reached the Asylum and clambered in... as did the others.

"Attacks, cancelled shows... Asylum fighters being told that they need not attend an event, chaos... disarray, everyone standing in this structure has been effected one way or another by the actions of Mark Knight and his bunch of anal warriors... well, all except for one." Joe said, eyeing the members of his group.

"You see of all the word associations above, there's one words that instantly pops into my mind when I think of 21wrestling...

NERVA!" Joe screamed, pointing the finger of fate at the former Asylum champion.

"That's right Nerva, you personify what 21wrestling is all about... a selfish, half assed... pathetic attempt at existence.

But more than that Nerva, just like 21wrestling... you... are WEAK." Joe sneered through his clenched teeth.

"Weak because you weren't here to defend a promotion that made you a star, a champion... instead you were off with loverboy here." Joe stopped for a second to point an idle finger at Providence "Fucking away like nothing else matters, while my promotion... literally... got FUCKED." Joe bellowed, Nerva not showing any signs of fightback.

"And this is a message directly to you Mark Knight, because I am about to do something that while I might regret... will definitely be something that will never be forgotten... you see Knight, this is a lesson and an example at the same time, I am about to do something to one of my prized possessions, something that you could never do... to the likes of Glen Miller, or Mr. Haunt... or Mike Ritz, not just because you don't have the balls.

But because you are unwilling to make sacrifices.

Hans, cuff her up." Joe grunted disturbingly, as Krueger sent a sudden and shocking punch to the nose of Nerva, as she staggered to the canvas, he took her hands, and cuffed them above her head to the Asylum rim.

Joe suddenly unsheathes from its plastic coat, a solid gold cane... he draws back and sends it sickeningly into the ribs of the former Asylum champion, the crowd erupts at such an act of violence, and does so again as Campbell blasts Nerva in the face with it, drawing blood.

As Providence shook his head.

"This, Mark FUCKING Knight... is your future, you're about to go to war with a promotion and a man that knows no remorse, a promotion that would stand by whilst a woman is beaten... a promotion that would stand by...

While a woman is KILLED." Joe sneers, throwing the cane to the floor and sending several harsh boots to Nerva's ribs, he finished off by grabbing a handful of red hair and sending a wicked right hand shot straight into her face.

Providence, notably... grimaced.

As Nerva spluttered blood onto the canvas, Campbell leapt to the outside, in a violent rage, he yanked the steel steps from their base and passed them into the Asylum, where Hans Krueger promptly stuck the boot to Nerva some more, before pushing her head against the mesh and lodging the steps on top of it.

Campbell suddenly sent an eruption of worry through the crowd, drawing a sledge hammer from beneath the announcers desk.

He clambered back into the Asylum.

"This is what happens to the weak Mark Knight! The strong survive... and the weak are killed, this is what you stand to find out at Immortals, Knight... only the strongest will survive, and unfortunately for this dirty slag... she just wasn't strong enough." Joe sneered, drawing back the sledge hammer as the crowd started to murmur with concern, he unleashed a wicked swing, but found that a force was holding back the hammer.

The crowd exploded with cheers as Providence snatched the sledge hammer from Joe's hands, Joe spun around and glared directly into his eyes, after a few seconds of intense hatred, Joe started to chuckle to himself.

"Hahaha, well what do we have here? A real modern day Romeo & Juliet... only without the happy ending where you both fucking shoot yourselves, how DARE you do this to me in front of a capacity crowd? I'll have your fucking guts on a plate for this, Bishop... now give me that fucking hammer before you make this any worse than it already is!" Joe screamed, holding out his hand.

"You want it Joe?" Providence said, tilting his head to the side.

"YOU GOT IT!"

A shocked Joe reeled from a swift hammer jab to the face, he stumbled over and out of the Asylum as Hans Krueger and Carnage both stood mouths agape, in disbelief of what they'd seen... suddenly, they rushed Providence, but he dispatched them too... blasting Carnage in the ribs, and slamming Krueger in the spine, the two leapt from the Asylum like scalded dogs as Providence picked up the microphone and addressed Joe Campbell, who leapt up and down the aisle in rage, being restrained by Carnage and Krueger.

"Fuck you, Joe Campbell. I love her!" Providence roars, as officials rush to the ring to free Nerva...

Campbell, dragged up the aisle... mouthed a few choice words before being pulled through the curtain.

"I hope she was fucking worth it Darren, I hope she was worth it."

If Milo was ever going to explode, unleashing all the pain he has been holding inside onto another human being, it would most likely happen this very night. Milo was now in the Asylum, and Kent Anthason was arrogantly making his entrance. Being a very inpatient man as of lately, Milo decided to meet Kent half way, greeting him with a hard right hand to the face. He wasted no time in grabbing Kent by the back of the head, and slamming his face into the exterior fencing on the Asylum.

Milo was now inside, and Kent began to make it to his feet outside, only to be pulled over top and slammed to the floor inside the Asylum. An array of viscous stomps followed, and it was looking at this point as if the match was one-sided. Kent had other things in mind though, as he quickly stood executing a quick double foot drop kick to the knee of his opponent. Milo gripped his knee, in an attempt to numb the pain, but he then felt the smack of the floor as he had been given a suplex courtesy of Anthason.

Kent was now on the attack, picking up Samus and nailing him with a swinging next breaker. Perhaps it was the product of miscalculation, but Kent thought he would have a bit more time then he actually did and Milo was back to his feet, charging and spearing Anthason backwards into the steel rim of the Asylum. Kent's was in a world of pain, his back hitting the rim very hard. He felt like a speeding truck had hit him, but he had to pay attention because the truck was pulling him back onto his feet.

Whack

Kent was nailed with a charging rockbottom that sent chills through the audience as it echoed through the arena. The two hundred and ninety pound Milo was showing no mercy, as he put more and more power into every move. Kent was able to block a jackhammer attempt, and caught Samus with a falling Diamond cutter, buying himself just enough time to climb out of the Asylum. Sure, he would lose by ring-out… but he really didn't care about winning the match.

He cared about one thing, and that was attacking Milo Samus, something that he had indeed accomplished. Kent grabbed a microphone and walked backwards up the ramp, being sure to keep an eye on Samus who now stood, calling him on.

"You know what, Milo? I was once a wrestler like you. But then I came to the fond conclusion that... It just simply wasn't violent enough for me."

Hearing this triggered something, as Milo completely snapped.

"You want violence? You got it man."

As Anthason threw down the microphone and disappeared into the backstage area. Samus quickly exited the Asylum and followed, whether he would catch Kent up or not, this war was far from over. 

"A man who has risked his life knows that careers are worthless, and a man who will not risk his career has a worthless life…”

--Orson Scott Card, ‘Children of the Mind’

The breeze shifted and what was for him was against him. Almost pushing him out of the way. He knew his skin would harden and his heart would beat faster and it did. It was like something was always warning him to leave. It was the same feeling that Biggs always felt when he got near an Asylum building; it was never anything new to him.

He thought back at the times he came to tA. His first time was Hostile Grounds where he came to watch his wife fight and ended up getting kicked out for fighting with Ash.

Throughout that month he battled it out with Lynch Gang with the help of, who was his best friend then (and not now), Freakred.

When did that end?

Last year at the first ever seVered.

With the loss things moved on, tempers heated and flared to boiling points. 21wrestling vs. the Asylum! It couldn’t have been greater to see on television! It couldn’t of been sweeter for revenge on each wrestler’s mind! The Asylum took 21wrestling as joke…but they struck back. They came back with a group led by a man fueled with hate and -

INVADED…

…and they were successful…

“Satake you didn’t have to come with me,” Biggs said as looked up at the giant arena. He did nothing to hide that he was from 21wrestling this time, his shirt with the 21w logo on it was open and easily seen.

Satake shook his head, “I told you I would come with you. I have my own personal issues to deal with here,” Satake said. Biggs nodded and they advanced, it wouldn’t be easy nor did they have a plan. Biggs was here for one thing because it haunted him. He wouldn’t even let the Asylum think he was any bit of a coward. He wanted them to fear him because…it was their fault they made him hate them so much.

Mark Knight had received a tape soon not too much later on Thursday’s Uncut. Express mail from Joe Campbell himself challenging Kinkade to come to seVered to take on Carnage.

Following a gruesome match with Mike Ritz at Uncut, Knight demanded that Kinkade could not go because it would be suicide... Kinkade however, as seen earlier in the night... had different ideas, but following a confrontation with Biggs, a deal was made..

Biggs and Satake made their way toward the arena. As they reached the closer to the doors they clenched their fist ready to fight as they saw one man who greeted them so warmly with an open smile.

“Hello fuckheads,” said Joe with a large group of security guards. “Is there a reason you twats are here?”

“You called us here Campbell.” Biggs said as he stepped forward. “I’m here to fight.”

“You? ‘Biggs Dangsta’? Fight? In my Asylum?” Joe laughed at the thought. “WHAT-MAKES-YOU-THINK-YOUR-PIECE-OF-SHIT-TALENT-IS-WORTHY-FOR-THE-ASYLUM?” Joe shouted quickly. “I demanded KINKADE come!”

Biggs turned his face slightly as he looked over at Masafumi. “I've spoken to Kinkade, Campbell... the plans have changed, I’m here now. I’m here to take on your challenge, not Kinkade. Are you scared or somethin’?”

“Scared of you!?” Joe cut in. “Don’t make me fucking laugh! You’re worthless Biggs! You’ve always been worthless! You’ve never changed from last year when you came crawling to my talent search looking for a job! You never deserved to be here, and you know what? You never will!”

Biggs felt the anger rise up from his shame. “If you don’t let me in Campbell, I’m breaking in…again.”

A vein began to bulge in the side of Joe’s temple. “I don’t have time for this, I have a show to run. I don’t need piss poor never-wases to waste my time! Move out of my way!” Joe flared out as he turned his back on Biggs, pushing security out of his way towards the door.

“Don’t you fuck with me Campbell! You’ve done too much to me to run away from me now!” Biggs screamed. Joe refused to listen. “You crippled my wife you mother fucker! You get back here now!”

Campbell froze with his hands grasped around the handle. He turned back around slowly showing a face of rage, “DON’T YOU FUCKING BLAME THAT SHIT ON ME! I HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT!” Joe screamed in rage.

Biggs pointed screaming back, “This is your promotion and you should have control of what goes on around here!”

“LISTEN YOU TWAT!” Joe exploded. He breathed heavily and felt blood trickle down his nose again. He grabbed a handkerchief and began to calm down as he wiped it. “OKAY, okay, O-K. You came here because you wanted to fight right? And I said Carnage. Well tonight…you have him.”

Biggs nodded in acceptance. Masafumi stepped up beside him, as both men were ready to enter the arena.

“Just remember, whatever happens to both of you tonight, you brought it upon yourselves,” Joe finished before entering the arena and leaving the two to pass through security…untouched.

Joey Malone - Why must I be here to witness yet another established and respected mall become uselessly abused and destroyed by various janitors, birds and medieval jobbers?

Janitor Nine - Well, um, you really don't have to be here if you don't want to be, sillykins :-&. Your free to leave whenever you want :-9....

The camera cuts to the only exit in the mall, which has two metal posts by each door, with five pitbulls chained to each post with lasers attached to their groin areas. The camera scans away from the door to reveal several landmines, one exploding as a small butterfly lands on top of it. Also, bear traps are seen laying on the floor, with actual mall shoppers screaming in agony as their legs are firmly trapped inside them.

Then, scanning further back, the camera scans an area where in order to get past it, you have to maneuver around Roseanne singing the national anthem, George Bush Sr. thrusting his pelvis with mad lust, a sea of hamsters that haven't been fed for several weeks, several quantities of barbed-wire, a hallway with wallpaper consisting of various nude photographs of daytime talk show hosts, Regis Philbin's hot seat [where if you answer a question wrong, Regis will beat you to death with a large sausage as he shouts "Take this, fattie!"], and several disgruntled postal workers with large sticks, fashioned to poke eyes out. After all of that, we see a large sign that reads "THANK YOU, COME AGAIN".

Joey Malone - ... my lawyer will be hearing about this.

The camera cuts to a "KB Toys" establishment, where Schitzo Tod is putting the robotic Furbies down his pants.

Furby - Aychi moochai mooney!!

Schitzo Tod - Oh yeah, that's right mamma. Give me the hot stuff. *suddenly noticing the cameras* Er, I mean, you go die now! *throws Furby against the wall, causing it to shatter into pieces* Heh heh, Furbies suck, and such!

Janitor Nine - Oh my :-7! Oh my :-7! That Furby is down for the count :-@!

Joey Malone - ... Tod was sexually gratifying a Furby just now. For the love of children, this better be the last time I see something even remotely resembling such a site.

Janitor Nine - Oh, looky ;-I! There's our stereotypical Indian friend, Gandhi Tod :+V! I wonder what sort of mishaps he will run into today :-U!

The camera's cut to Gandhi Tod, riding triumphantly through the mall on his elephant of war, trampling the few mall shoppers that happened to survive the events of Ken War's body parts flying all over.

Janitor Nine - Yayski :-0!!!!

Joey Malone - That... is the most horrible thing I've ever seen since that one time I saw "The Xtreme Thug" Stuck naked, in a horrible misplacement of locker room signs. Just... horrible.

Janitor Nine - Yeah, that's how you know it's kewl :-N!

Joey Malone - ... how about we try viewing something less horrible. Oh, I see here that Beef is being beaten down by Cheese and egg NOG.

Cut to Cheese and egg NOG, beating Beef with meat tenderizers that they found at the Home Depot.

Beef - AHHHH!!! AHHHHH!!! STOP THAT!!! I'M ALREADY TENDER!!!

Cheese - Hey egg NOG... we're beating the crap out of this guy with meat tenderizers.

Egg NOG - ... so?

Cheese - I guess you could say we are "BEATING OUR MEAT"!!!! BAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! BAHAHAHAHAHA!!! HAHAHAHAHHA!!! HAHAHAHA!!!! Hhahahahaha! Hhahahaha. Hahah. Hah. Hooooo... that's the A material right there.

Egg Nog - ... just keep beating him with the mallot, you idiot.

Cheese - Okay, okay, sowwy L

Joey Malone - Is there anybody that's even remotely CLOSE to fighting right now?

Janitor Nine - Well, after Ken War died, everyone sort of got depressed and wandered around shopping ;-(. See K.

Cut to various camera's across the mall. We see Avo Chavez, at the El Pollo Loco, playing with two pieces of chicken, one wearing a minature sombrero, the other, wearing the spiked Madonna breast cups. For scripting purposes, let's just call the latter Zesty Barb. Avo inserts the voices for both pieces.

Zesty Barb [voice performed by a very nasal Avo] - Oh, Avo Chavez, your so hot and spicey, like the Fajitas they sell at Applebee's, only without all the diareha after digestion!

Avo Chavez, in chicken form - Oh Zesty Barb, you make my cheelo rage with uncontrolled erection!

Zesty Barb - Ohhh Avo Avo, let's make sweet chicken love!

Avo Chavez - MUY AGGGGHHHHGHGHHHH!!!!!

Avo Chavez begins smashing the two pieces of chicken together, which causes the breading to fly all over the place.

Avo Chavez [in raging orgasm] - SI!! SI!!! SI!!! FEEL THE EXTRA CRISPY PIECE BETWEEN MY LEGS, EL BITCHO!!! SI!! SI!!!

Avo get's a little out of control and begins devouring "Zesty Barb" with his strong, capped latino teeth.

Avo Chavez - ALLLMMMMM!!!! EL MUY DELICIOUS!!!!

Joey Malone - ... I don't know what to make of this - either Avo Chavez is a cannibalistic spaniard, or Avo Chavez has a fried chicken fetish. Either way, the conclusion is very disturbing.

Janitor Nine - Well... El Janito is currently at Victoria's Secret rubbing his face up against velvet underpants :={. I don't think you want to see that :-. Um, apparently, Mad Jesus is in dispute with Target employees over his use of the remote-controlled wheelchairs, claiming that if he was Jesus, he could just "heal himself" :-B. I'm thinking everyone here is pretty much forgetting about the CHAMPIONSHIP OF ALL CHAMPIONSHIPS :-O.

Joey Malone - GOD YES!!! I'M FREE!!!

Joey Malone tries to run away, but suddenly, a large bolt of electricity stops his run for freedom, and he falls to the ground, with smoke rising from his neck.

Joey Malone - ... they put a FUCKING INVISIBLE FENCE AROUND THE COMMENTATORS TABLE?!?!?!

Janitor Nine - Hey, don't blame me for your problems, Joey :*/. Just because you can't stay out of the road away from cars :-P...

Joey Malone - BUT I'M A HUMAN BEING, DAMN IT. What's next, are they going to start feeding us Milkbones?

Janitor Nine (as he sucks on a Milkbone like a pacifier) - ... maybe now's not the best time to announce the treat you get for being a good little commentator |-(.

Joey Malone - ...

Janitor Nine - Anywayski, we haven't seen Janitor Seven yet in this match... or at least very much...

Cut to the middle of the mall, where we see Janitor Seven being severely beaten by putties! Yes, putties, from Power Rangers!

Joey Malone - GASP! NOT... NOT... PUTTIES! GOD DAMN IT, JANITOR NINE!! You can drug my Nutra-Grain bar, you can drag me by a chain tied around my neck to a mall, and you can super glue this ANNOYING JR oversized novelty cowboy hat on my head... but once you bring in the putties, THAT'S WHEN YOU'VE GOT ME FRIGHTENED!

Janitor Nine - *sigh* Owh fiddle sticks, Rita is at it again :-^. Time to re-organize the Mighty Morphin' Power Janitors to stop Rita from destroying the town and killing thousands for the 56th time :-K!

We fade to outer space, on the moon, where Rita and Goldar are having vigorous villain sex.

Rita - HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE! YOUR UNIT IS SMALL AND UNPLEASEABLE!

Goldar - :-( Well, I am pretty hung, for being an evil Egyptian bird and all. :-(

Rita - Your genitalia is of insufficient mass and/or quantity! Therefore, I must take out my sexual frustrations mixed with inner thoughts of taking over Earth on a small Californian-set community! GOLDAR! Activate the "Incredibly Comically-Themed Henchman With Limited Killing Abilities 3000"! And DON'T MISTAKE IT WITH THE TOASTER like you did the last time I told you to do this task! I don't appreciate having my Toaster Strudel all covered in bird feathers! Is that clear, bitch?!

Goldar - Yes, ma'am.

Rita - AHEM?

Goldar - Oh Jesus - do I really have to call you tha-

Rita - YES, SLAVE!

Goldar - But I'm a big golden bir-

Rita - With a small unit! Which denies you any rights as a man, according to all the penis enlargement spam mails I have read. Anyway, SAY MY NAME, BITCH!!!

Goldar - Yes, D-D-D-Dominatrix Rita.

Rita - That's right, who's you mamma? Now get to that fricken' machine before I decide to give you a swift kick in the testicles - wait a minute, there's no way in hell I could kick such a small target. But I'll think of some demeaning way of torture that doesn't involve torturous groin manipulation!!! HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!!!!

Goldar leaves the room immeadiently, as Rita laughs hysterically - probably because she just figured out the "black, white and read all over" newspaper joke. Or perhaps she just finds it really funny when people explode into flames. Or maybe, when she reeks havoc on a small Californian community with various overly sized monsters, the town is reduced to custodians in spandex to save the day. Or maybe some sort of insect just flew up her vagina and she's very tickled by it. In any case, with his head hung low, Goldar exits. But, just as the double doors shut, he immeadiently brings his head to full mass, and begins shouting various profanities as he makes his way to the "Incredibly Comically-Themed Henchman With Limited Killing Abilities 3000".

Goldar [under his breath as he turns on the machine] - ...stupid fricken' bitch and her stupid overly wide vaginal entry passage why I aughta show her a thing or two about motion of the ocean that stupid ho that's muff smells like a sweatshop in July I'll show her...

Various flashing lights begin to spew from the machine, and then, two evil henchmen pop out, complete with overly moronic weaponry.

Babe Ruthless - MUAHAHAHAHAHHAHA!!! I AM THE EVIL BABE RUTHLESS, AND I'M GOING TO HIT A HOME RUN... OR SHOULD I SAY, I'M GOING TO HIT YOUR HOME, AND RUN!!! BAHAHAHAHAHA!! HAHAHAHAHAHA!! HOHOHOH!!!

Goldar - Wait a minute... so are you suppose to be a hilarious off-beat former baseball player that kills people, or a hilarious off-beat candy bar that kills people?

Babe Ruthless - DUH, DICKLESS, I'M SUPPOST TO BE A FORMER BASEBALL PLAYER, ONLY 50 FT. TALL AND THE ABILITY TO SHOOT ANIME-LIKE FLASHES OUT OF MY EYES!!!

Goldar - Then why do you have candy bars for legs?

The camera pans down to Babe Ruthless' legs, and they are, indeed, oversized "Baby Ruth" candy bars.

Babe Ruthless - [under his breath] God damn candy bar endorsements... [aloud] UM, FUCK YOU, GOLDAR!! I SHALL DESTROY ALL SORTS OF TALL SKYSCRAPERS AND POINTS OF INTEREST ON EARTH, THAN WHEN IT'S ALL BURNING, RITA WILL FINALLY RULE EARTH... WHEN THERE'S NOTHING INTERESTING TO RULE OVER!!!

MYAHAHAHAHA!!!

Suddenly, Babe Ruthless jumps off of the platform he was created on, and we see a crappy animation of Babe Ruthless slowly descending to Earth. He smashes through the roof of the mall, with his Louieville Slugger, and begins roaring uncontrollably.

Babe Ruthless - ROOOOOAAAAAAR!!! BEHOLD, COMMONERS OF EARTH!!! I AM BABE RUTHLESS!!!! THEREFORE, I AM BABE RUTH, ONLY... UH... I KILL PEOPLE FOR FUN, TOO! WHICH MAKES ME RUTHLESS! SO, THEREFORE... uh, shit... um... I GUESS I DECIDED TO ADD "LESS" AT THE END OF MY NAME, SO, UH, YOU'D GET THE POINT... AND... STUFF. SORRY, I DIDN'T GET A PREPARED SPEECH, BUT I DID BRING A LARGE BAT! NOW, WHO WANT'S TO DIE?!?!

Joey Malone eagerly raises his hand. Babe Ruthless looks around, seeing trampled bodies all around the mall.

Babe Ruthless - ... um, did an evil incarnation of a bitch woman from the moon already get to you guys, or something?

Suddenly, Gandhi Tod charges by on his elephant of war, whose hooves are stained with blood.

Gandhi Tod - Sorry!

Gandhi Tod runs off in a random direction of the mall, riding high on his elephant.

Babe Ruthless - ... OH WELL!!! THIS MAKES LITTLE DIFFERENCE!! I SHALL START MY CONQUERING OF EARTH BY EATING ALL THE FLAVORS AT BASKEN ROBBINS AT THIS INDOOR MARKETPLACE FACILITIES FOOD COURT!!! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

Voice - Not so fast :-J!

Suddenly, we see Janitor Nine, dressed in blue spandex with a weird looking helmet, making overly elaborated body motions to express his words, like in another fighting television show with the demographic of young children in mind.

Janitor Nine - We're the Power Janitors, and we're going to clean you up like... uh... some kid that just puked on a bus, or something :-Y!

Joey Malone (Who's Tied Up and Laying Behind a Series of Boxes) - MMMPH!!! MMMMPH!!

Translation from Tied-Up-Hostagese to English - To all watching, call 911!

A Man That Looks Like Joey Malone, Only Fatter, With His Mouth Strangely Inverting 6 Feet Into His Cheek - Pay no attention to that man tied up behind the boxes! I am Joey Malone! Time to get to commentating, which I voluntarily decided to do - Oh my! Oh my! Janitor Nine is challenging Babe Ruthless!!! Hellfire and brimstone!!!

Babe Ruthless - BUT WHAT ABOUT YOUR FRIEND, JANITOR SEVEN? HE WILL SURELY BE KILLED BY THE SLAPSTICK ANTICS OF THE PUTTIES!!

Janitor Nine - I don't think so, fiend :-Z!!! Janitor One and Janitor Four :-{}!!!! UNVEIL YOURSELVES :-*!!!

...

Janitor Nine - ... UNVEIL YOURSELVES :-F!!!

...

Janitor Nine - ... get out here now, or your going back to Oz :-(!!!

Suddenly, Janitor One and Janitor Four walk out from the darkness, Janitor One wearing the pink jumpsuit, and Janitor Four wearing the yellow jumpsuit, with helmets that match Janitor Nines.

Joey Malone - OH MY!!! OH MY!!! GOOD GAWD!!!

Janitor One - Awwwh shit mang. I got's the gay color.

Janitor Four - Mang, what'da you talkin' 'bout?!?! Mine was wore by da Asian chick in da' 'riginal!! I got da bitch suit, mang!

Janitor One - Shut yo mouth, foo'! I brush you mang, I brush you!

Janitor One unveils a switch-broom, which is like a switch-blade, only instead of the blade, there's a minature push broom. Janitor Four backs away.

Janitor Four - Back off me, mang! Back off me!

Janitor Nine - Alright you two, what did I say about Oz >:-{?!?!?

Janitor One and Four - Sowwy.

Janitor Nine - That's right 0-0. I figured you two would be used to being dressed as women from your excessive prison time anyway ;-). Anyway, PREPARE TO DIE, BABE RUTHLESS :-]!! FOR JANITOR ONE AND JANITOR FOUR HAVE DESTROYED THE PUTTIES, AND HAVE BRUNG BACK [dramatic chord] JANITOR SEVEN :-D!!!... right :-?

Janitor One - Well, you see mang... we WERE on our way to do that, but we saw a "Wet Floor" sign on our turf, and I turn to Janitor Four and was all, "Janitor Four, da' local gang be makin' gang signs in our general direction yo, let's brush em, yo!"... so, we, uh, brushed some janitors instead. L

Janitor Four - But they deserved it, jiggah! They were dissin' tha' MIDWEST SIDE hardkore!!!

Joey Malone - OH MY!!! OH MY!!! COAST WARS!!! OH MY!!!!

Suddenly, the real Joey Malone comes from behind Jim Ross and nails him across the face, which makes him spit out his sour drop he got lodged in his molar when he was a child. Suddenly, his large inverted mouth crevice pops back out of his skin, to become proportionate to the rest of his face.

Jim Ross - ... oh... my! Slobberknocker!

Joey Malone - ... I don't think you got the point.

Joey punches him across the face again, knocking Ross into a coma where he mutters "Rocky Miavia... blue chipper! Ohhh my... blue chips!" in an orgasmic tone for however long his coma lasts.

Joey Malone - Alright, that's well beyond disturbing. Let's see what's going on here...

Joey looks at a monitor where they are showing various janitors being eaten by a large figure resembling a famous baseball legend.

Joey Malone - Holy shit! And I thought the Team CGI Christmas Special got sidetracked! Um, okay, let me see...

Joey Malone takes out a cell phone. He dials a few numbers up and then holds it up to his ear.

Joey Malone - Hello? It's me, Joey... no, I don't want to send in a Funniest Home Video... um, please, stop talking about the Olsen Twins like that, their minors for God's sake -... I said stop it! I need to ask a favor from you... no, I don't want you to send me a copy of that one guy that got kicked in the balls on tape and won $5,000!... I know, I'm sure it was funny! But could you please just come over here and kill a gigantic baseball legend?... alright, excellent.

Joey Malone hangs up his cell phone, and during that moment, "Full House" Danny Videos is seen with his magic remote control thrusting his pelvis, as bolts of lightning fly from his crotch regions. The bolts explode into the monster, and various "Bam!" and "Whiff!" and "Muff!" noises are made, compliments of the technical crew from the 1960's Batman television show.

Joey Malone - There's two very important things I learned from IWO - 1) Never visit Delaware. Ever. And 2) When all else fails, "Full House" Danny Videos. Now then, what else is going on in this match...

Cut to El Janito, who has a loafer stuck in his mouth and is laying on the floor somewhere. Suddenly, we hear "1... 2... 3!"

Joey Malone - Oh my lord! Could it be? Someone has committed a pinfall! One step closer to a decision and my trip to the police station to report my kidnapping! Who's the guy who did something?

Suddenly, Joey feels something moving down by his foot. Thinking it's JR trying to steal his shoes, he looks down at his foot, but sees El Janito attached to it, crying like a pansy.

El Janito - Wahhhh!!! Wahhhhhh!!! I thought I could chew the gum off the bottom of your shoe and finally get something to eat. I have a problem. :-[

Joey Malone - Why does that always happen at least once when I go to the mall?

Cut to the middle of the mall. We see Cheese and Beef observing the giant corpse of Babe Ruthless by carefully poking it with sticks.

Beef - Hee hee hee! [pokes corpse] Hee hee hee! [pokes corpse] Hee hee hee! [pokes corpse] Hee hee hee!

Cheese - Hey, could you keep your enjoyment of corpse-poking to yourself! I'm trying to conduct an autopsy, like they do in CSI, only with a stick... see? [pokes corpse]

Beef [deviously shifting his eyes back and forth] - I must eliminate Cheese so that I alone can share in the enjoyment of corpse-poking. Ah! I have an idea...

Suddenly, Beef walks slowly over towards one of the latino referees, and pulls a individual-wrapped American cheese slice out of nowhere and places it on the ground. He than puts himself over the cheese, and yells to the ref.

Beef - HEY! GET OVER HERE! I'M PINNING CHEESE!

Latino Referee - 1... 2... 3!!

DING DING

Eliminated - Cheese

Beef - Muahahahaha! That'll teach you!

Cheese (as he's being informed he has been eliminated) - No! You don't understand! I'm cHEESE, that's just a pre-sliced individual wrapped piece of cheese! I'm the real Cheese, damn it!

The latino referee stares at him, dumbfounded.

Referee - Eh, 1, 2, 3! No habla inglies!

Cheese - I don't care what part of Canada you come from, I'm telling you, I'm a wrestler! Oh, why don't you go fuck yourself! I'm going to make a West Virginia championship out of macaroni made of GOLD, and when I do... um, I'll be a guy in West Virginia with a shiny thing to hold up my trousers!

Cheese walks away aimlessly, rambling about how West Virginia invented such great things like leg hair and apple-flavored dental floss. Joey Malone looks overjoyed.

Joey Malone - Yay! If only all the wrestlers were named after food products! I'd be free by now!

Suddenly, Janitor Nine walks back to the commentators table.

Janitor Nine - I'm backski :-P!

Joey Malone - ... why can't you die like the rest of the various numbered janitors?

Joey Malone begins beating his head up against the commentators table, as Janitor Nine makes random characters that resemble smiley faces. Suddenly, Ken War came out of nowhere, confronted Beef, and then pulled out a flaming barbed wire baseball bat.

Ken War: ph33r mi hardkorr flammng berbed wyer baysbull bet!!!111

Ken War charged.

Beef yawned and moved.

Ken War ran directly into the Mysterious Birdman.

The Mysterious Birdman 0¿0 - WELL, HELLO THERE. IT SEEMS THAT OUR PATHS HAVE CROSSED, AND THEREFORE, THE MOTHERCLUCKING FEATHERS MUST FLY!!!! SO, BUCKLE YOUR SAFETYBELTS GRANDMA EDNA, BECAUSE HERE'S YOUR REEDUCATION IN "HARDKORR".

KICKWHAMMYSTERYBIRDDRIVER.

Ken War - fux!!111

And, indeed, Ken War's head fell off. Let's... go elsewhere.Now, for other matches~!

"So what'd he say, champ?" Token Weed sneered with a disturbing grin, as Tyler Burton entered his locker room with the Asylum championship sitting comfortably over his shoulder.

"Not much, Sean... about what you can expect from Campbell these days, he was just talkin' in riddle... this and that, I'm guessing he's gonna throw us in another team match of some kind... seems to be his "thing" these days." the Inmate replied with a shrug, as he sat down on a bench and placed the title belt down beside him, reaching into his gym bag, he pulled out his fighting gear and started to put it on.

"And that's all he said? Nothing else?" Token said, his eyes narrowing in a somewhat sly fashion.

"Pretty much..." Inmate went on "He mentioned something about a surprise, like I said... talking in riddles."

"Ah, well you know Pete... life is full of surprises, maybe it would've been wise to listen to what he had to say?" Token replied... he'd steadily got to his feet and was now standing tall behind the Inmate, who sat getting ready in the shadow of a man whom he considered an ally.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Inmate shot back, shaking his head as though to dismiss ever listening to Campbell.

"What it means Pete... is...

SURPRISE."

Before Tyler Burton could turn around, he was sent tumbling to the ground via a vicious pistol whip at the hands of Token Weed, who clutched a 9x9mm glock in his right hand... as Inmate groaned and started to get to his feet, Token finally sent him out cold with a second whip to the temple, busting the side of Inmate's head wide open... as the Asylum champion lay motionless on the floor, Token set about beating him relentlessly, sending several hard kicks to his abdomen before crunching him in the face with a sickening kick, before finally pointing the gun at his head...

"Bang!" Token whispered sickeningly "That's the last time I ever point a gun at you and don't use it."

He slowly started to pace out of the room, leaving a battered and severely beaten Inmate laying in a rapidly growing pool of his own blood, as he left... he looked down at the Asylum championship.

"And I'll be seeing you soon." Token uttered with a sinister grin, leaving to complete the next stage of his twisted plan.

Well, maybe ‘little’ is an understatement.

Lotus came walking to the Asylum with her title over her shoulder, pissed at the reaction she was getting. Or was that just her game face? Either way, whoever she was fighting was in for a long match. Once entering Hell’s little manifestation upon God’s Earth, she started pacing around.

Like a wild animal, waiting for its dinner. Nobody knew who would walk out. And to be honest, most people thought it would be a squash.

The calmed silence was broken up by the Deftones. Be Quiet and Drive (Far Away). And out came the challenger for the Asylum Women’s Championship. The little rookie who had just disappeared off television.

Quinn Morgan.

And she just stood there for a second, accepting the mild reaction she got. After all, everyone wanted to see Lotus go down. Why not this woman?

Morgan walked down to the Asylum, and upon entering, the bell rang. Finally, the wait was over for now. Back to your regularly scheduled violence.

Morgan and Lotus met in the center of the ring, with Lotus swinging her left fist wildly at the face of Quinn. She connected, but before she knew it, was met with a stiff fist to her cranium.

It knocked Lotus off her collision course, and left her open for attack.

Morgan capitalized. Spear tackle. Lotus was on the ground now, and was getting choked and punched. She couldn’t make out which hands were doing it, but it didn’t matter. She was getting pounded early, and the fans were cheering.

With her blurred vision, Lotus used her left forearm like a club, and swung as hard as she could upwards. She felt her arm hit something, and all the punching and choking seized. Shaking the cobwebs, Lotus regained her footing, and looked down at Quinn, who simply was on her knees, grabbing the back of her head.

Lotus lowered her hand. Sportsmanship? Morgan accepted.

And was met with a spinning heel kick from that slanted eyed bitch. She was back on the ground, hoping she didn’t bite off a chunk of her own tongue. Once the shock wore off, she sprung to her feet. Amazing, considering that most of the time she would have stayed down for an extended period of time.

And with blood protruding out of her lip, she let the iron she tasted taint her soul. She came towards Lotus with her right fist in a tight ball. Lotus only snickered…

BAM!

When her face came back, she was met with a vile eye rake. Lotus instinctively closed her eyes, and before she could bring her hands up to cover her eyes, her temple was met with the left foot of one Quinn Morgan.

She hit the mat hard. Morgan would have mounted her, but decided against it. The fans were on Quinn’s side, and she was gaining control surely as time passed. However, things just took a nose dive for her.

Lotus kicked her left shin hard, and out of instinct Morgan went to grab it, but was met with knee to her forehead. The blow knocked her down, and with a laceration having formed over her skull, Morgan lay on the mat, seeing the lights mock her every thought. Lotus spit on her fallen victims’ body.

It was over.

1

2

3

4

5

6

And the count from the official stopped. Lotus watched as Quinn Morgan stood up before her.

More or less, she shuffled her feet, and brought her leg up after the shuffle.

Superkick to Lotus’ pretty face. Her body hit the mesh, and she fell to her knees. Morgan grabbed Lotus by her hair, and drove her face into the floor. Lotus’ nostrils exploded with a sudden sea of crimson pain. She screamed, but that died down fast.

Morgan used her left arm to wrap around her neck, and jerked up, choking the champion.

With her free hand, she began punching Lotus face. For about one minute, which lasted an eternity for Lotus, her neck was yanked on and her skull was pummeled on. Morgan grew tired of the whole thing, and threw the head of one Lotus against the floor as if it were some weightless doll.

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

And the counting ceased.

Lotus, eyes crusted with her own life force, could only scream as she tackled the unexpecting Morgan to the floor, and began punching violently. She just hammered right after left, left after right, like some crazed revenge hungry animal.

Morgan wasn’t going to let this chance slip out of her reach. She was out to impress everyone. And as she brought had fury raining on her skull, she decided to retaliate. She began swinging her fists at the bloody face of Lotus, the scene of a gore freaks fantasy.

Two beautiful women, pounding the shit each other. The tussle became something complacent in the mind of Morgan. She was so engrossed in her animal instinct, she stopped controlling herself. Lotus’ blood dripped into the open crevices in Morgan’s face. It was like some ritual.

However, Lotus began choking Morgan, who kept swinging as if nothing was happening.

As her face began changing colors, her punches wavered in strength. But they kept coming.

Until, finally, mercifully, she passed out.

Lotus stood in her bloody glory, garnering the boos of the fans of this brutal Asylum. The official began counting.

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9…

And like you would expect, it was far too soon to give up as far as Quinn Morgan was concerned. She was barely able to walk to Lotus, who just shook her head. Not in disbelief.

But in disgust.

Her face contorted once a right hand hit her hard in the juggular. She bent over, her breathing seizing as the shock of having her airway smashed, if only for a short while. She was open for any attack right now.

Morgan used her left hand to give Lotus a violent heart punch.

End of Innocence. Variation uno.

The heart of the champion skipped a beat, and instantly, she went to the floor, Morgan maintaining a strong hold on the heart of Lotus. The searing pain forced tears to come down the bloody face of Lotus. Is she a wuss? Hell no. If that was you there, you would be screaming and crying your balls off.

The official was over by Lotus, asking her if she was giving up. Morgan just laughed the entire time. Lotus shaked her head back and forth in a manner that showed her desperation.

She was fading fast, and she knew it.

With her left fist, Lotus swung as hard as she could at the face of Quinn Morgan, who was morphing into a sadist bitch, who was not quitting.

When that fist hit her jaw, Morgan spit blood out of her mouth, and continued the hold. The fire in her eyes. The sadistic smile. It was going to haunt Lotus if she couldn’t pull this off. It was like looking into the mirror, and seeing another soulless killing machine.

The champion swung again. And again. And fucking again.

It wasn’t making one bit of difference. Morgan just tightened the hold, and just before Lotus passed out, Morgan’s right fist finished the job. She let go soon after. Turning her back on Lotus, she raised her right arm in triumph. The fans roared. The reign of the bitch was over.

Right?

What was shocking was that there was no count being issued.

What was perhaps disturbing was the fact that Lotus little trip to dream land was phony.

What was crazy was the fact that Lotus had just used her Simplicity punch on Morgan, who slumped to the floor of the Asylum.

1

2

3

And she was up.

What. THE. FUCK~!

Morgan’s glazed expression was what greeted a shocked Lotus. It was like she was fighting a machine. She needed to close the gap fast.

Lotus went for a standing counter clockwise left leg sweep. Morgan’s feet were taken away from her, as she fell forward.

“SHIT” was all Morgan could scream as her neck was met with a jumping roundhouse kick.

She landed on her stomach, and her eyes were white and red. They were rolling into the back of her head.

Blossom.

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

The official announced Lotus the winner via knockout. The fans booed as "Triumph" by Wutang played on.

A sigh of relief. That’s what Lotus did. She damn near lost her title to some inexperienced fighter.

And all her opponent could do was fade in and out of reality as her throat felt like it was slit.

Blam, Joe Campbell's office door swng violently open.

"Alright fucker, now book the match... I'm ready." A snarling Token Weed growled at Joe as he burst through the door, Campbell's head jerked violently up from a sleeping position on his desk... he never really did enjoy putting a full days work in.

"Come on you lazy fuck, wake up and book my match with Inmate." Token grunted, sitting in the leather chair opposing Joe's desk, before planting his two soil coated boots upon it, showing his desk and papers with dirt.

"Err... listen, Sean... mate, I've been having a good think about this... maybe its a better idea to just let Tyler keep the belt for now, I mean you guys do well as a team and the merchandi..." Joe tried to reason, but failed.

"Fuck teamwork Campbell, fuck merchandise... its my time to shine now, so get that little pen, and book my fucking match... before I book it for you, forcefully... and we wouldn't want that now would we?" Token sneered, scowling across the desk.

"Okay then..." Joe spluttered, beads of sweat running down his forehead "I'll just get something to write with."

Translation... Joe Campbell was fumbling terribly to reach the colt M19 which sat in his desk drawer at all times, suddenly however... he was in a somewhat compromising position.

"Hands where I can see them, dickhead... you honestly think I'm gonna pull for that handgun shit? Way ahead of you... idiot." Token said with a sinister grin, Joe looked up to see a glock 9x9mm staring him in his face.

He slowly raised his hands above his head.

"I knew you'd try to fuck me Campbell, you always do... but a deal is a deal... I paid you money and you knew exactly what it entailed, now sign my fucking match... boy." Token snarled.

"Listen... Sean, lets be reasonable... look... I don't even have a pe... BLEH!"

Joe was suddenly tasting the barrel of Token's handgun, which had found its way inside his mouth... slowly but surely, Token drew a pen out of his pocket and placed it in Joe's quivering hand.

"Sign, the match... NOW!" Token roared... as Joe fumbled about the desk before locating the booking sheat, and slowly writing down the match details.

"I'd hurry up if I were you Campbell, last time I saw the doctor he said I have a nasty dose of trigger finger, one wrong cough and I'll paint the fucking wall with your brains... now... sign your name." Token smirked to himself as Joe scribed down his signature.

"Good." Token said with a fake smile, withdrawing the gun from Joe's mouth he placed it into his belt and paced out of the room.

"Its been a pleasure." Token chuckled as he swung the door shut.

"Nah, fuckwit... the pleasure will be all mine." Joe whispered with a sinister grin, taking his pen and scribbling further notes and instructions on the booking sheet.

Lotus, the Asylum Women’s Champion, proudly walks down the hallway after yet another successful title defense. Although the Women’s Title should be the top priority of Lotus’ it was not, she could not get 21w’s Masafumi Satake off her mind.

Previously on the Show, Lotus had gotten so wrapped up with Satake she had brushed off Booty Brown, and had an obviously extreme distaste of his actions against him. Lotus and Booty had grown close, but now none of that mattered. But, why would it? Just look at what Booty had pulled the previous week.

"My God…" she suddenly whispered quietly. Lotus dropped her Women’s Title to the ground when she saw Masafumi. She couldn’t believe that he was present and inside the Asylum’s territory.

She rushed at him, and the two embraced with a hug. Nothing else mattered.

Lotus looked up into the eyes of Masafumi and said, "You’re here."

Masa’ just smiled back at her, holding her tight. "Let’s go," he said. "We’ve been wasting our time long enough playing games." Lotus shifted a bit and there was an awkward pause before he finally let go of her.

Lotus heard music getting louder and louder. She felt nervous but shrugged it off.

“Yeh fo shizzel! I saw ‘em around hea’ somewhere!” screamed a familiar voice. The door flew open. Lotus stepped in front of Satake as Booty rolled in his wheelchair bumping hip-hop tunes in the back. “There he is! Get him! Get him!” Booty screamed.

Lotus and Masafaumi were in a state of shock. They froze looking around as someone bombarded in…

Adam Nowell.

“I thought you were injured!” Lotus screamed.

“Well you thought wrong bitch!” Nowell screamed as he pointed at Satake. “I’m back and I’m here to-”

CRACK!

Satake didn’t let him finish, he planted a superkick to the side of Nowell’s chin that sent him whirling back. Nowell quickly got up and the two got in a scuffle with Booty cheering in his wheelchair. Nowell gripped Masafumi tightly in a headlock and Satake used all his might to push him forward, breaking the mirrors in the locker room.

As Nowell turned around, Masfaumi stood ready and flipped him over with a suplex, jumping on top of him and throwing punch after punch. Booty screamed in his chair, “Yo! Call security! One of those 21w guys gone nuts on one of our own for no reason!”

Lotus hissed at Booty and pulled Masafumi out. “Come on let’s get out of here!” Lotus screamed.

Masafumi got off the unconscious Adam Nowell. “But Biggs-“

Lotus pulled harder. “Come on! Everybody is coming!” Satake shook his head obediently as the two ran out of the locker room door, leaving the arena behind with Biggs alone.

egg NOG frowned, "guys, it's obvious that I'm sad that I'm not getting enough air time! I mean, look what I have to compete with... Baby Ruthless! I just can't! Ruthless is just pure star power!"

"And I was thinking of changing my music and I needed your help," he continued, "I was thinking something along the lines of 'Just A Girl' by No Doubt, 'Hero' by that Nickleback guy or 'Baby Got Back' by Sir Mix-A-Lot, I mean, because NOGgy got back!"

egg NOG stuck his butt in Malone's face and began to shake it uncontrollably. Joey caught sight of it and let out a shriek and fell to the floor, curling up in a ball. Unaware of what he'd done, egg NOG clapped his hand and sang the song aloud. Of course he didn't know the words so he just made them up as he went.

The segment director quickly caught sight of egg NOG's singing and ass shaking, "AH!! THE RATINGS!! WHY DIDN'T SOMEONE TELL ME HE WONDERED ON CAMERA! SOMEONE STOP HIM!!"

Suddenly a random security guard charged egg NOG and tackled him to the floor, thus taking him off camera.

And the world breathed a sigh of relief.

Meanwhile, Schitzo Tod (who has otherwise managed to disappear the whole time) could be seen walking from Kay-Bee Toys with a Barbie doll in hand, shaking it from side to side and make obscured noises. "How's it going Rico Tod-ae?!" Tod had the doll say in high pitch shrill. "It's goin' baby, it's goin'." Tod replied with a smirk, wiping some "dirt" off his flannel shirt and swaying from side to side. Suddenly Mad Max fell down in front of Tod for no real reason. He just fell down.

Tod screamed out, "BEWARE THE WRATH OF
RRIIIIIIIIIIIICCCCCCCCCCOOOO TTTTTTTTOOOOOOODDDDDDDDDD-AAAEEEEEEEE~!" as he slammed the Barbie in the spine of the fallen Max.

"Ow!" Mad Max cried out, holding his back in pain, "that hurt! You meanie, poo-poo head!"

As "Rico" Tod-ae proceeded to beat on Mad Max with the Barbie doll, we went else where looking for action. We found it with Janitor Seven and Zotan of Gribblfritz, whom had begun a game of roshambo. Zotan went first as Janitor Seven clinched his fists and squinted hard as Zotan drew is foot back and left fly.

The scream that Janitor Seven let out could not recreated with the best technology around.

He fell to his knees as tears ran down his face. He quickly checked to make sure that everything was still in place. A sinister smile formed on his face as he grunted back to his feet.

His turn.

Zotan spread his legs as he prepared himself for Janitor Seven's forthcoming shot. Zotan bit his tongue as Janitor Seven wound up.

AAAIIIIIEEEE~!

Zotan doubled over. He was in obvious pain, but justice would soon be his. Once again, Janitor Seven readied himself as Zotan shook his leg. Janitor Seven couldn't bear to look, he squinted his eyes and tilted his head back.

His mistake.

Janitor Seven never saw Zotan pull out his trusty bucket. Janitor Seven never saw Zotan put it on. And most of all, Janitor Seven never saw the slightly lower Ramming Speed coming.

And just like that, it was over. Zotan had won.

In a moment of celebration, Zotan placed his foot on the chest of Janitor Seven and raised in arms in celebration over the fallen Janitor.

1...

2...

3.

Zotan looked around confused, he had actually forgotten about the match going on. We caught back up with Schitzo Tod and Mad Max. Max had managed to get to his feet, after Tod paused a moment to have the Barbie doll ask Tod out on a date later that night for being so kick ass.

Then. Tod. Suddenly. Stopped.

Tod threw down the Barbie doll and began to kick it old school. Going back to the roots of street corner break dancing, Tod was showing he could go with the best of them.

Or so he thought.

In all actuality, Tod was showing that he was the truest form of a white male with no rhythm.

Mad looked on in shock. "Yo! Those moves is phat, yo!" he said as he posed with his arms crossed against his chest and nodding in approval. "But check this g-hommie, word."

Mad Max moved Tod back as he, too, showed his skills at break dancing. He was better than Tod was, but he still sucked. Max tried to do the captipillar (the worm for those that don't know better) but looked like a fish out of water. Max jumped back to his feet and posed again as he said "word" in a confident manner as he nodded.

Tod stroked his chin as he thought of how to top it. Only one move could beat such a great feat of break dancing.

The Spinarooni.

Tod got down on his knee as he attempted to spin on his back, he didn't have the momentum for a quarter turn so he used his arms to spin him the rest of the way. Next came the tricky part. Tod rolled on his stomach and jumped to his feet. "HA HA!" He screamed as he shook his clenched fists above his head like a mad man, "beat that!"

Mad Max could not.

Schitzo Tod leaped in joy as the camera froze ala some action freezing shot. The action went elsewhere, we followed.

"THAT WAS AMAZING! BY FAR THE GREATEST DISPLAY OF BREAK DANCING I HAVE EVER SEEN!! :~D" Janitor Nine explaimed, clapping his hands in delight.

"Please," Joey whispered, "if you can hear my voice, please send help. I think they've run out of dill pickles."

A voice suddenly shouted out "TRAVESTY!" A lone overweight, pimply-faced fanboy walked onto the stagewith Janitor Nine and Joey Malone and took a seat next to the two.

"Hello! =:)" the surprised Janitor said.

"I'm not here to fraternise with the likes of you two, I am here to bring down one of the greatest evils in wrestling today. Two men who are trying to take the business by the balls and bring it down. They're sucking all the talent dry and preventing the real stars to shine!

They hold everyone back and force themselves into the spotlight! Well I've had all I can stands and I can stands no more!"

"What in the BLUE HELL are you talking about?" Joey asked.

"The Legion of Dairy!" the fanboy screamed. "Surely the great Joseph Tyler Malone of Mesa, Arizona husband of Keri Lindum, winner of the very first Life Death Endurance match, holder of more titles than I care to shake a stick at, you of all people should know of those devil's backstage politics! Look at how they held Mega Job: The Epic Tag Team down all those years! Bastards I say!"

Joey blinked, "I know not of this Legion you speak of."

The fanboy screamed, "RUAH~! DON'T PLAY DUMB WITH ME MALONE!"

Malone eyed the fan boy, "I'm sorry, but whenever I get kidnapped out of my house at five o'clock in the morning, I tend to get really pissed off."

Before the fanboy could retort, security had him in their clutches and were dragging him off the stage as he chanted "Attica".

"Well that was fun! 8-D" Janitor Nine said with a smile.

"Look," Joey said rather blandly and pointing across the mall, "Steve and that guy in yellow and black shorts are doing something."

Sure enough, egg NOG and Steve were going at it. No, not humping pervert, fighting... to the death. Their wrists were tied together and each held a plastic knife in their free hand. Steve took a stab, but NOG avoided. NOG jabbed, Steve somehow blocked the knife. NOG tried an overhand approach and Steve took advantage, stabbing NOG in the stomach with the knife.

Steve laughed villianously and pointed to himself, "WINNER."

"Luck." NOG said with a frown. "But I'll get you back, I know you're the reason cHEESE and I are even here.

"NEVER." Steve shot back.

NOG frowned, he knew Steve was right. Steve was far too clever for him. Steve was an evil genius, NOG was a lowly dolt. Suddenly a wall of the mall came crashing down as large blue van rolled into the mall. Amazingly, no damage was done to the van, minus some paint that was rubbed on it, but that could easily come off.

"FREEDOM!" Joey screamed as he raced to climb in the van.

Denied.

A hand pushed Joey out as he fell hard on the floor. He looked up to see who could be so mean.

cHEESE.

His sly smile streached from cheek to cheek as he looked over to egg NOG. He motioned for egg NOG to come as NOG scooped up Steve, who began hitting and kicking egg NOG as he raced over to the van.

"Hump me out a win will you?!" NOG said as he looked Steve in the eyes, "well I'll show you!"

cHEESE looked at egg NOG, "dude, that sounded so gay."

"Really?" egg NOG asked.

"Yeah" cHEESE replied.

"CRAP!" Steve said as he was thrown in the van and NOG climbed in behind. cHEESE slammed the door shut behind as the wheelman, who we'll say is YoGuRt threw the van in reverse and sped away. And for the sake of story lines and smarks, Steve would escape one hour later after fending off both members of the LoD with poo on a stick.

As Joey shook off the denial for freedom, he saw the whole in the wall and got up to make his break for it. Before he was back to his feet. The brick magicly flew back in place, forming a face that was laughing at Joey. He would never get out.

As Joey Malone sobbed to himself, Ken War ran in front of him, holding a "hardkorr flammng berbed wyer baysbull bet" and screaming wildly. Zotan saw this.

And moved precisely one step to his left.

This move sent Ken War screaming off the balcony and down a story, before Ken War impaled himself on the statue of a Roman warrior in the middle of a fountain. Ken War looked at his situation and was not pleased.

"tis es nut mi dey!11"

Eddie Cheno arrived in his locker room after the show had already begun. He wasn't in a rush because he didn't actually have a fight tonight. Tonight was just a night to relax and cheer on his few friends in the Asylum. Eddie figured Poser'd be in some insane wacky stunt trying to get himself some sort of contract, and Mega Job'd be making jokes at the expense of an entire community. Whatever the case, he had the night off, and it was a welcome pay per view break. He hadn't been inside the Asylum Cage since August 4th, and hadn't had a fight since Everything or Nothing, but he didn't mind the break. All he wondered was how he was still receiving a paycheck...

Eddie threw his bag onto the floor of his locker room, because you never know what could happen on a broadcast by Joe Campbell. That's when a small white piece of paper that lied on one of the benches in his room caught his eye. Eddie walked over and picked it up, reading allowed. "Number One funken Contendership, Eddie Cheno, Ricky Wasp, and Hypno-funken-sis?" Eddie was flabbergasted, but he was smiling from ear to ear. The first smile Cheno's had in a long time. "Talk bout a funken pleasant surprise mang. Dis shiznit be funken sweet!" Eddie placed the paper back on the bench before walking over to his bag and pulling out a change of clothes.

The camera zoomed in, and there it was, written in red ink above headshots of Eddie Cheno, Ricky Wasp, and Hypnosis. Did the card change on a moment's notice, and what would LLB have to say about this. Then again, seeing the small 21w logo in the lower right hand corner kind of makes you think it was some sort of scam.

And Cheno seems to have bought it, hook line and sinker.

Man, he should really check to see if gullible's still in the dictionary.

For a pay per view it was hella quiet..

Atleast in Carnage's locker room. Last Sunday he didn't come to the Show, because he was called and told that he wasn't needed. But that call didn't come from someone with any authority in the Asylum, that call instead came from one of tA's top enemies..

Kellen Kinkade.

And now after he sent a videotape to 21w, Carnage was ready for a very battle with the man who crossed him. Or so he thought..

Cornelius Corteia's locker room door flew open, and as he looked up from the ground he immediatley knew this meeting was one of business. Carnage stood too his feet as he drew eye contact with the sunglassed man. "Joe, I..."

Cornelius' words were halted as the Joe Campbell stood before him with his hand raised, "Change of plans. You're fighting Dangsta." Carnage's eyebrows raised in confusion, "Looks like the little twat wanted a piece of you. If you go out there, and you fuck this all up, I'm going to hurt you, hurt you worse than you can even imagine."

"I won't.." Carnage was interrupted again, as Joe's face was now a beet red as the thought of fumbling this rose in his minds.

"You're damned right you won't. You don't even want to know what'll happen if you lose. You won't have to know, because you won't lose.. right, you won't lose. It shouldn't matter if you're fighting Kinkade, or Dangsta, or Haunt.. you fight one of those load of bullocks wrestlers, there's one thing you can do.." Joe trailed off as he stared deep into Carnage's eyes.

"Win." The word slipped from Carnage's lips, his head raised as an air of confidence flew over him, he looked solidly into Joe's eyes. "I'm not going to lose. Truth is, I didn't want to fight Kinkade.. I always wanted Biggs. So I won't be needing any of your pep talks to get hyped up, if there was someway I didn't win this.. I'd punish myself." He let out a hard huff of air, as Joe lifted his glasses to his forehead, and nodded in approval.

The door shut behind him, and Carnage was alone..

But was he ready? The thought continued to bounce through his mind.. because he knew that now the ball was in his hand, losing would be suicide.

Ever since their first altercation on August 4th, the 21w champions versus tA champions feud between The Bullies and Pain & Suffering has been ongoing and unrelenting. Week in and week out, they’ve battered themselves up, not for their loyalty to their respective federations though, oh no.

The Bullies didn’t give a shit about 21w. Pain & Suffering didn’t really give a shit about the Asylum either. It was all a matter of personal pride and the glory that comes with it. Both teams have now stolen each others’ titles, and it has officially gotten personal.

The tA superscreen activated and cut to a scene of the secretive and mysterious Bullies/P&S warehouse that they’ve been carrying out their feud in for the past few weeks as a way of minimizing any possible interference from angry 21w wrestlers and tA fighters.

The now-memorable one liner from the Dope song, made famous by the team of Pain & Suffering, blared throughout the warehouse’s speakers. Clayton Richler made his way out from backstage, holding his stolen 21w tag team title in his hand and a microphone in the other. Drake Kerrigan then followed, coming out with his stolen 21w tag team title draped over his shoulder and also carrying a mic. Drake took his regular position in the corner and Clayton stood in the center of the cage, facing the ramp.

“Marc Baiden… Seth Kard,” Clayton started. “You two got really lucky on 21w Uncut, I hope you know that. Yes, you managed to pull out the win… since we’ve never stepped foot into a wrestling ring in ages.”

“And don’t regard that as an excuse, guys,” Clayton said. “Regard it as an assurance that we will defeat you here, tonight, in this cage and tie the best-of-5 series up at one match a piece.”

Clayton walked forward a few paces. “And we will TAKE our titles back.”

Drake stepped forward and cracked his knuckles. “You heard him. Now get your asses out here!” Drake yelled into the mic.

The Bloodhound Gang’s “I Hope You Die” song cut into the speakers of the warehouse and Marc Baiden and Seth Kard, wearing their stolen tA tag team titles on their waists and carrying mics, made their way out to wooden ramp. They were showered with boos from the large demographic of tA fans around the warehouse but both of The Bullies simply ignored the yelling and made their way to the front of the cage.

Marc Baiden raised the mic to his chest. “Your excuses aren’t going to hinder our ability to defeat you and Drake right here tonight and take a 2-0 series lead, Clayton.”

Clayton nodded emphatically. “Speaking of hindering ones ability… well, Drake and I actually had our abilities hindered when we appeared on Uncut, Marc. Yes, you see… we weren’t allowed to fight in that ring, like we normally do. No. We were restricted to inferior wrestling moves, which we haven’t practiced for a long time now.”

Marc sighed into the mic. “…So?” He asked impatiently.

“So…” Clayton looked down at Marc. “So, there’s no reason that you two shouldn’t suffer the same impairments. This match will be fighting moves only. Pure brawling. None of your fancy wrestling maneuvers.”

Marc looked on in disbelief at Clayton’s request and shook his head. He raised his mic again, but before he could answer Seth cut in with, “We accept, little bitches!”

Drake nearly took Seth’s head off with a running elbow-smash and Marc threw himself at Drake’s legs, knocking him down. Clayton ran at Marc but Marc ducked and pushed Clayton into the cage meshing.

Clayton bounced back and Marc drilled his knee into his back. Clayton yelled out in pain and turned around, trying to hit Marc. Marc ducked and punched Clayton in the stomach.

Seth and Drake battled in the corner of the cage. Drake tried to grab Seth’s throat but Seth ducked down and nailed Drake with a cheap shot directly to his balls. Drake keeled over in pain and dropped down to the mat, holding his crotch.

As Seth kicked the fallen Drake, Marc and Clayton brawled with each other on the other side.

Clayton finally ducked one of Marc’s punches and got the upper hand by smashing Marc’s face into the bar of the cage and holding him up against it.

Drake attempted to get back to his feet, but he was still clearly in pain from Seth Kard crotch-punch. Seth then jumped up and nailed Drake across his head with a spinning heel kick.

Drake fell down in the corner of the cage and Seth continued to kick him.

Meanwhile, Marc broke free from Clayton’s hold and grabbed him around his throat. Marc started choking Clayton and eventually worked him down to the mat. Gasping for air, Clayton poked Marc in his eyes, breaking the hold. Clayton then finally inhaled and started punching Marc.

Seth started to get a bit cocky and starting showboating to the audience. Drake finally regained his composure and nailed Seth from behind with a haymaker. Seth collapsed to the mat and the referee began to count…

1…

2…

Clayton prevented Marc from getting back up by assaulting him with a series of strong punches. Marc’s nose busted open and started to bleed all over the mat.

3…

4…

5…

Clayton then got up and started kicking Marc around as he bled profusely. On the other side of the cage, Drake walked around as the referee counted… but Seth was showing signs of movement again.

6…

7…

Before Seth could get to his feet, Drake grabbed his head and started grinding it into the mesh of the steel cage. Clayton then picked Marc up and Irish-whipped him into the cage.

But Marc quickly bounced back and caught Clayton off guard by smacking an elbow into his chin. Clayton collapsed down to the mat, motionless.

1…

2…

Drake noticed that Clayton had fell, and he let go of Seth. Drake ran at Marc from behind and headbutted him in the back of his head. Marc fell down to the mat and started rolling around in pain as the referee continued to count Clayton…

3…

4…

Drake then knelt down and started slapping Clayton’s face. Finally, Clayton revived and Drake assisted him to his feet. Suddenly though, Seth ran at both Drake and Clayton and knocked them down with a jumping split-legged dropkick.

Clayton tried to get to his feet but Seth swiftly kicked him in his head, knocking him back down. Drake and Marc got back to their feet at the same time, and Drake charged toward Marc. Marc ducked an elbow-smash attempt and side-kicked Drake into the cage.

Seth sat on top of Clayton and started choking him out as Marc and Drake exchanged punches in the corner. Marc threw a punch at Drake, but Drake ducked it and then headbutted Marc once again. Marc stumbled back, and Drake grabbed him from under his shoulders and suddenly hip-tossed him over the top of the cage!

Marc fell back-first onto the floor outside. The referee called for the bell and the Asylum fans in the small audience went wild for P&S’s victory. Drake then ran over to where Seth was still choking Clayton and kicked Seth in his face, sending him off of Clayton. Clayton quickly staggered to his feet and made his way to the cage door.

Clayton quickly walked around to the back of the cage and grabbed the 21w tag team titles, then went to grab ahold of his own titles again but Marc Baiden and Seth Kard snatched them up just before he could get them back. Clayton tossed one of the 21w tag team titles back to Drake and they hopped over the railing, exiting the cage area through the crowd of fans surrounding the warehouse.

While all this is going on, The Mysterious Birdman is dancing. Why? Please stop asking me, you bastard. Stuff just happens, you know? In fact... I've got big balls. I've got big balls. He's got big balls. She's got big balls. BUT WE'VE GOT THE BIGGEST BALLS OF THEM ALL!

The World is suddenly sucked into a black hole that just popped up near the Mars interchange. Everyone is teleported to the world from which Alice In Wonderland was written. The Mysterious Birdman can be found talking to the catepillar man. Avo Chavez is having tea with the Mad Hatter. Schitzo Tod is making out with the Red Queen. And Mad Max is using his macking skillz on good old Alice.

"You looking fine today, Alice."

"Why thanks… umm… stranger."

"How aboutz me and you get itttt onnnnnnn!"

"Get it on?"

"Oh, you know…"

"No… I don't know."

"Me, you, and a little of the whole uh uh."

"I'm afraid I don't understand what your saying."

"Here, I got you these roses."

"TAKE ME YOU BIG LUG!"

There was an uproar amongst the other wrestlers.

"I WANT HER!" Someone yelled.

"I WANT A PONY!" Someone else yelled.

"Okay" started Alice "There is only ONE WAY to settle this this... A game of Elimidate."

Everyone lined up, and Alice was blindfolded.

"Contestant number one... If we went out, what would you do?"

"I'D KAWING RIP YOUR MOTHERCLUCKING EYES OUT, THEN I WOULD EAT YOUR BABIES! KEKEKEKEKEKE! YOU KNOW WHAT BUGS ME ABOUT BABIES? THEY'RE ALWAYS CLUCKING CRYING LIKE BABIES! CAN'T THEY JUST KAWING GET ALONG?! CAN'T THEY?! KAW KAW!"

"..."

"KAW?"

"Elimidated."

ELIMINATED: Mysterious Birdman, 0¿0

Back in the land of the real, Mike Renner glares at his watch.

"Damnit, this taking forever... I shall smite the two responsible."

Schitzo Tod and Mad Max start slapping each other with salmon, when suddenly, the giant finger of Mike Renner falls on them. Crushing Max and Tod into oblivion.

ELIMINATED: Mad Max and Schitzo Tod

Renner grabs the remaining three wrestlers and throws them back into the mall. All of this take place in less then a second, so the audience has no clue what went on... Well, all except for one man.

Charles Hoffinweir.

Charles saw everything, he finally understood life. It is a pity he died seven point six seconds later.

Ken War was suddenly thrown from the balcony by an extremely pissed off Mysterious Birdman, who wasn't too happy about being Elimidated.

He fell on Charles.

Killing them both.

Charles' last words were reported as "Mike Renner truly IS God."

War's last words were "o sheeetttt!!111"

WAR.

Biggs Dangsta stepped out into the arena, this was how he was welcomed to the Asylum. Any other arena in the world would be blaring "Ambitions az a Ridah" but right now, the only thing that blared in Andre Dangsta's ears was the massive boos from the crowd. But still he walked with his head up, proud, determined, ready to take one home for 21w. His black bandana wrapped tightly on his head, he touched it as he closed in on the Asylum.

As he stepped up the steps to the cage, he noticed the debris lying all over the ring, he tried to kick it out the way, to clear some space but it was useless more trash continued to rain down on him. Finally it stopped as the arena calmed down, and Biggs began to bounce around focused on the match at hand, for the man he was facing he hated with a passion..

"Adrenaline Rush," by Twista blasted over the arena's sound system and for the first time ever in response to that music, the crowd exploded in cheers. Cornelius Corteia, the man known as Carnage walked out of the arena, he took two slow steps out and as he looked down to the cage he drew eye contact.

Biggs Dangsta and Carnage the only thing seperating the two of them was the rampway, and with the hatred that these two had for each other not even the Grand Canyon would be enough to seperate them. And immediatley Carnage charged down the ramp as if inside the cage was his salvation..

He took the cage steps in one leap, and then he bounced from there and was flying over the rim with a high cross body block, and into the welcoming arms of Biggs Dangsta. Fall away slam! Biggs was back up on his feet and he went to nail the downed Carnage with a move, until he noticed.. Carnage wasn't down anymore. With the emotion of all of tA running within him, Carnage nailed a vicious uppercut to the jaw of Biggs rocking the larger man back.

Carnage followed with lefts and rights to the body, putting Dangsta's body against the cage.

But Biggs with the fight of 21w behind him, reached behind Carnage's head and switched positions sending the Crazy Corteia hard back first into the cage. And Biggs followed up with a solid knife edge chops to the chest of Carnage, each one rocking the former Extreme champion's body. As another knife hand chop came, Carnage attempted to duck but instead was smacked hard in the face with a chop.

The crowd viciously booed Biggs' control of the match, as he grabbed onto Carnage's arm sending hard towards the ropes for an Irish Whip. Carnage's body collided hard with the cage wall, almost sending him up over the top. Biggs stood back measuring up, before he charged and went for a splash..

Carnage moved out the way!

The insides of Biggs burned, as he was hung to dry on the Asylum rim. Carnage jumped up on the rim, and walked the tightrope until he approached Biggs, then Cornelius jumped into the air and landed a leg drop right on the back of Biggs. The impact of the move sent both men falling into the inside, the ref stood watching until Carnage got to his feet and then his count followed immediatley over.

And now Carnage was focusing in on the back of Biggs, as he continued to send harsh kicks to the midsection of Biggs. Finally Carnage stepped away from Biggs, and looked down on him in a crouched position.. "Get up! Where's all that toughness?! You're not ready for war kid.. you just aren't ready.. Get the fuck up!"

His eyes cautiously watched as Biggs Dangsta pushed himself to his feet, and as he watched all the muscles in Carnage's body tensed. The moment Biggs stood up tall, Carnage lept with a clothesline attempt only to be leveled with a large boot from Biggs! The crowd booed as the man who lead the Asylum invasion slowly stumbled back into the Asylum wall, grimacing as he held his back, and attempted to catch his breath. Biggs knew how to count, and as he watched Carnage laying on the mat, he noticed that something wasn't right. Finally Carnage was back on his feet, and he charged forward like a locomotive only to be backdropped out of the cage!...

.....

Biggs held his hands up in victory, it was over.. he came into the Asylum and won.. didn't he? The crowd booed viciously, as Biggs continued to cringe holding his neck, then he noticed that something was still wrong. There was no announcement, there was no bell.. there was no winner?! And as Biggs Dangsta looked across the Asylum what he saw made his blood boil, the referree was looking at him. Biggs took a quick look back, and he saw what he thought he saw.. Carnage outside of the ring, the match should be over.

Something about the little smug look across the lips over the referree made Biggs hate him, "What the fuck is going on?" The smug look remained and Biggs was furious, reaching forward and grabbing the ref up by his collar, "Why isn't the bell ringing? He's out of the fucking ring?" Finally the smug look faded off the ref's face disappeared, but only as he hocked a lugey in the face of the 21w Millenium champion. Biggs dropped him to the mat, and wiped at his eye, and with one swing of his right hand he floored the official! But some reason the crazed Asylum fans were all cheering..

SMACK!

Carnage nailed Biggs with a flying chairshot to the head of Biggs, sending the big man stumbling. And another world, he and Andre Dangsta might be friends, but in this reality it would never happen. Because Carnage was in tA, Biggs was in 21w.. and Carnage just slammed the chair repeatedly across the back of Biggs, each shot causing the California native to yelp in pain. Carnage slammed the chair hardly on the mat, and stepped over him sitting on his back, locking Biggs into a camel clutch. Biggs continued to scream in pain, as Carnage continued to put more pressure on Biggs' lower back, there were no uncles or mercy to be called here because right now even if they were to be counted they'd be announced to deaf ears..

Finally the move was released as Carnage went back down and grabbed a hold of the chair, holding the chair upside down, Cornelius slammed the head hard into the spine of Biggs. The beating stopped as Cornelius threw the chair across the ring, and he slowly brought Biggs to his feet, and grabbing onto the back of Biggs' head, Carnage lead him to the cage wall. Carnage attempted to toss Biggs over but the wrestler found somewhere deep inside him to fight, his knuckles turned white as he grasped the rim.

But slowly his resistance was lessened as Carnage began to club him in the back of the head rocking Biggs forward, and finally using the momentum Carnage tossed Biggs over the top. Inside the cage, Carnage walked over to the chair and he brought himself to stand on the Asylum rim, with the chair in hand he lifted it high and the crowd roared in approval, Cornelius Corteia followed that up by jumping off and swinging the chair at Biggs, only to be thrown into the announce position..

CHAIRSHOT ON JPP!~

The Asylum's French commentator was in the land of la la and Po, as the chair rested on his head, and Carnage's body was lying behind the announce table. Even though the fans rooted for Carnage, it was hard for them to resist responding positively to that moment. Adrenaline pumped heavily through Biggs body, as he shoved the downed body of JPP out of the way, as he grabbed a handful of Carnage's hair.

He had a grasp of Carnage's arm, and he sent Carnage flying head first into the cage.. busting the Crazy Corteia open!

Biggs took a step forward to Carnage as he wiped the sweat from his eyes, and then he stopped as pain shot through his back.. he couldn't let it stop him, he had to fight through. He lifted Carnage up, and tossed him back first into the outside of the Asylum, assaulting Carnage with various lefts and rights, and finally.. LOVE THE HATE! Carnage's body was sent flying into the cage only to fall back down hard to the ringside floor. The debris began to fly to the ringside area yet again, as Biggs grasped Carnage by the neck, and showing a combination of amazing strength and tolerance of pain, as he chokeslammed Carnage back into the cage! The 21wrestler bit down on his lip, as he heavily stepped up the Asylum steps and back into the cage.

The ref was just getting up to his feet as he nursed his bruised eye, Biggs limped over and ordered the ref to begin to count. ONE.. TWO.. THREE.. FOUR.. FIVE.. SIX.. SEVEN..

Carnage was back up on his feet as he held his right hand tightly. He attempted a sharp move only to be gutted by one of Biggs' large boots. Biggs stood over his doubled over opponent, and signalled for the end.. he reached down and lifted Carnage up for a powerbomb, but swiftly Carnage's tightened hand revealed a knife and he pressed it hard against Dangsta's neck.

Carnage began to push it harder into the neck of Biggs as blood began to leak from the 6'9 mammoth of a man. The shrill of a laugh echoed from Carnage as he knew that Biggs was in quite a pickle, he couldn't hold him up there all day, and if he landed a powerbomb he'd lose a large chunk of his throat. Finally Biggs did the easiest thing, he just let go.. Carnage locked his legs around Biggs neck, but the jolt of the fall caused him to drop his knife down to the mat. Biggs wrapped his arms around Carnage and nailed him with a Tombstone piledriver!

All air was sucked out of the fans in the arena, they couldn't boo anymore. They could only watch as two men who hated each other because they were in direct competition with one another, because there was one little difference that lead one to a world where he was accepted as a fan favorite, and another where he would barely get a response as he fought night after night on a strange place where he wasn't accepted. Carnage was out flat on his back, and Biggs was struggling to get back to his feet as he held his back..

All of a sudden, the crowd was brought to it's feet as LLB charged down the ramp, and up the steel steps but as he got to the top he was sent tumbling back down by a hard punch by Biggs. The Panther finally got to his feet, and took muted steps across the cage, he reached down and placed his hand on Carnage's throat, he lifted him up into chokeslam and as and he lifted him up biting down so hard on his lip he tasted the blood in his mouth.

This was going to be the coup de grace, the Westside Sunset, but as he began his finisher he felt a solid chair shot into the small of his back sending a jolt throughout his body causing him to drop Carnage and for himself to slump down to the mat. LLB slammed the chair again onto the back, finally getting his revenge for what Biggs did to him in the invasion. With that the Law headed back to the locker room.

Both men were left in the ring lying on their backs, with not a movement being made inside the entire cage. The ref just looked down as he watched hoping Carnage would be back up on his feet, and his hopes were answered as Carnage clawed his way up to his feet, the moment he stood dizzily the ref's count began.. ONE... TWO.. THREE.. FOUR.. FIVE.. SIX..

But there was Biggs back to his feet as well, both men began to gingerly walk around the ring scouting each other's next move. Finally both men lunged forward in an arm and collar tie up, right in the center of the cage. Kick to the midsection by Biggs! DDT! "COUNT!"

The shaken ref started ONE.. TWO.. THREE.. FOUR.. FIVE.. But his count broke, as he looked up as Biggs bumped into a bigger man, Biggs turned around with shock, and the shock immediatley turned to pain as ArchAngel locked him into Vengeance. Biggs' screams were unanswered as ArchAngel sent him down to the mat squirming as the hold was still in place. Suddenly here was Hans Krueger in the ring as well applying harsh kicks to the body of Biggs, slowly Carnage got back to his feet feeling blindly for the cage, but as he did he stumbled right into Hans. Both Hans and Carnage had their teeth gritted ready to strike, but they broke eye contact and looked towards Biggs.

ArchAngel relinquished his hold as Carnage signalled for them to bring Biggs to his feet. Carnage was up and nailed a vicious German suplex! The first half of Maximum Carnage..

And as Carnage jumped to the top of the cage rim, the crowd began to break out in a cheer.. but it wasn't for Carnage. Instead they cheered for Joe Campbell who made his way down the ramp applauding everything that has just happened. Carnage nodded towards Joe, and then leapt finishing off his combo finisher with an elbow drop. As he got back up to his feet.. the count ensued..

ONE... TWO... THREE... FOUR... FIVE... SIX... SEVEN... EIGHT... NINE... TEN!

Carnage had his hand raised in victory, as the crowd broke out into an "A-SY-LUM" chant.

Carnage stood over Biggs and wiped the blood and sweat from his forehead, and as he looked down upon the man he just beat, he spat in his face. The chant finally came to a conclusion as Joe stepped into the ring with the mic in hand.

"What did you come here and expect to accomplish? You wanted to come here, blast us all prove, you got big bullocks, and go back to that fucken piece of beret wearing shite like the little twat you are to get a pat on the head? Is that what you wanted to do?" Joe geared back and kicked Biggs hard between the legs, causing the wrestler to gasp in pain. "There aren't any heroes here.. in the Asylum. And if there were, they sure as hell.. would be a lot bigger.. a lot better.. and a lot tougher than you."

Joe looked around at the arena who cheered his every movement, as he stalked around Biggs downed body, as Hans, Carnage, and ArchAngel all stood to the side. "You see, for every single one of you twats who come in this place.. and try to take over, there's a couple boys out back who wait to rip you shread from shread, limb from limb..and just send a pile of bones back to wherever the fuck your fashion designer owner is from.

"What is 21w? Walk down the streets.. and ask what it is, no one knows, but they all know Joe Campbell. I'm in Forbes for Chrissakes, you know what that means? That means that I'm bigger than you, I'm bigger than your fucken rat infested promotion. I'm bigger than wrestling.. and I'm not affraid to tell it. But I'm not too big that I don't enjoy watching little roaches like yourself be stomped out..

"And when you go back to that hole in a wall you wrestle in.. tell Frenchie, that this is war. The games are over." Joe began to walk away but before he did, he managed to give Biggs a stiff kick to the head. "Smack my Bitch up" blared over the PA system as Joe and crew left Biggs Dangsta lying on his back on hostile grounds..

It's just a stupid piece of tin, covered in barbed wire and blood.

And considering the participants, the stupid piece of tin wasn't even necessary at this point--they just wanted to hurt their antagonist and leave him lying.

The point was they made up a quarter of an elite class of eight men who'd gained the most violent title in the most violent place in the free world. The point was the last two men before them had become champions of all of the Asylum. The point was the ladder of success, both figuratively and metaphorically.

The point was the hatred. It always is. A third and possibly final match. 1-1 so far. Who would win this one? The heroic anti-villian? The villanious anti-hero? Who was who?

Well...THAT'S the point. And this is The Light.

A colossal roar arose from the crowd, further intensified by the pounding rhythm of Nine Inch Nails' "Heresy" blasting out over the public announce system. Steve Christ appeared from behind the black curtains and the roar only gained strength. He paid no attention to it, nor to the ladder set up right near the cage. With a skeptical look towards his loving fans, he immediately grabbed a chair from ringside and tossed into the Asylum, following it in. He looked up above his head towards the Heavens he depised and the belt he loved. He touched his ribs. He touched his knee pad. He was ready.

"Forty Six & Two". More hard-pounding rock, this time in the form of Tool. Another bad-ass motherfucker, this time in the form of Providence. The Extreme Champion. He had beaten Steve violently to posess the title nearly two months ago, and had continued a reign by beating all comers who dared oppose him. The crowd was more split towards Providence, as a mixed reaction of cheers and boos rang out in the arena. He sidestepped the ladder, and pulled out a lead pipe from the back of his tights. Steve immediately picked up his chair.

Providence smiled at Steve, who smirked back at him. These weren't looks of friendship--these were looks of maimers who reveled in the glory of the spilled blood of another.

Providence entered the cage. The bell rang.

Steve dropped his chair. Providence looked at him quizically and Steve made a short gesture with his head to lose the pipe. Providence did. Both men began talking, and shortly after that the fists flew. The crowd cheered as Steve got the upper hand, only for Providence to cut him off with a knee to the gut.

At least, that'd been the intent. Steve quickly took Providence over and dragon screwed him down. There was no follow-up, not yet. Steve waited as Providence slowly drew himself up to his feet. The champion charged, and Steve let his momentum carry him into the cage. He bounced back, and Christ began throwing punches with both arms. All his fury and anger was being carried out in the opening moments of this match. A final series of right hands, and Steve took a couple of steps back.

He charged in with a knee.

Providence took him over with a dragon screw takeover, and held onto the leg. He locked Steve into a single-leg crab and then spun to grab his head, executing an STF. The effort was readily seen as the champion grasped onto his left wrist with his right arm, trying to put Christ in an incapacitated state to set up his title retention. Steve bit down on whatever arm flesh he could find, and then jerked his head back in a headbutt, causing Providence to let go of the hold. He fell away stumbling and Steve got up. He looked towards the ladder but then suddenly zeroed in on the fact his opponent was staggering up. Christ smiled a broad smile.

Through groggy eyes, Providence saw a pair of middle fingers raised at him.

"What the..."

KICK.

WHAM.

NO.

Providence immediately used the short window of opportunity to drill the ex-champion with a hard release German suplex, the crowd "UGH"ing in sychronicity as Steve's head and neck met the mat with a thud. Now, he would go for the ladder. Christ regained his bearings as Providence went out to the floor and garnered the ladder. As he went back towards re-entry, he suddenly noticed that Christ wasn't where he left him.

He was atop the Asylum, and flying off--shooting star press? It was a huge gamble.

And it didn't pay off in the least.

Providence merely waited for him to untuck and then CLOCKED him with the ladder, drawing boos. Providence waited for Steve to get up on the floor, then took the top and buried it into Christ's stomach, ramming him full speed into the outside of the Asylum. Christ slumped down to the floor, wincing. Providence stepped by him to the right, back to re-entry. He set up the ladder in the middle of the ring, mentally sizing up the ladder. There were 10 rungs to the top. Easy.

Two rungs.

Four rungs.

Six rungs, and the crowd was coming alive.

Knowing what that meant, he hurried up to the eighth rung and had gotten a foot on the ninth.

Then suddenly, he was flying through the air and had no way of stopping his head from bouncing off of the Asylum's rim. The crowd roared. Steve had gotten back in, and let Providence do a little more climbing. All the worse for the moment of impact that'd just happen. Steve sauntered over and grabbed the lead pipe Providence had brought into the ring. He tossed it in his hand, and went over to where Providence was picking himself up against the mesh. A swing followed.

Providence blocked it with his hands but immediately found himself choked by it. Steve stepped as far away as possible and with both hands pressed the cold flesh against the neck of Providence. Soon after, Providence slipped down and Steve immediately began stomping the right side of his forehead where he'd made contact with the rim. Blood began trickling out of a cut as Steve continued to stomp away, a feral look in his eyes.

Of course, the crowd cheered.

Christ went back to grab the chair, and prepared to end it all with a final shot to the head. The champion had other plans.

Van Providenceinator.

Except.

Except Steve moved his face after missing his swing, and the chair clattered out of his hands. Steve immediately grabbed Providence's arm and hooked his head. Crossface chickenwing, and Christ wasted no time in locking on a body scissors and biting the wound, now starting to resemble a thin but bold red line down the face of Providence. He released the hold, and went to set up the ladder again. It stood there, and Steve grabbed the chair. He climbed up to a halfway point on the ladder, and saw Providence getting up.

He flew at him with a chair shot, only to be greeted by a kick to the gut. Christ stumbled around, and Providence grabbed him by the singlet before dropping him headfirst on the chair with a brainbuster.

Providence's head rolled around as he pulled himself up first. He climbed up the ladder now, stopping short of the prize. Remembering an old trick up his sleeve, he turned. Christ lay below.

Suddenly, the champion lept off and delivered a crushing senton bomb right between the ribs of Steve Christ. His entire body rattled like a carpet having the dust shaken out of it. The crowd cheered the move, as Providence looked back holding his neck at the fallen Christ. Now it was just about over. He knew Christ had this innate uncanny ability to keep standing after a torrent of offense. He hooked him up over his shoulder for the Fall, then jumped up.

Christ grabbed his head on the way down and drilled him with a reverse Russian legsweep.

Christ stumbled up first, and immediately went for the ladder. He touched down on the second rung when he could feel his ribs acting up from injuries past & present Providence had inflicted on him. On the fourth rung, and Christ had to stop from climbing--the ribs were really killing him.

Mistake.

Providence grabbed him by the leg, trying to pull him off. Steve immediately began stomping away at the wound he'd opened up hoping to blind the Cincinnati native. Providence recoiled, then suddenly realized he'd landed on his feet. Christ was still ascending.

Providence made his way to the other side of the ladder, climbing the rungs quicker than Christ had, making up for lost time.

Steve had made it. He reached out for his title, and suddenly received a punch to the chest. Providence. Steve threw a left hand to the wound and kept grabbing for the belt at the right--he could feel the barbed wire coat. Providence hit him with another pair of punches atop the ladder, and Steve threw back some of his own. Both men, up high, had degenerated into another slugfest. Christ added a headbutt, and poked Providence in the eyes. Screaming out in pain, Providence fell off to his right, hitting the mat with a dull thwack.

Unfettered now, Steve Christ reached up for his belt.

And suddenly his brilliant plan was full of holes. Grunting and trying to blink his eyes back to 20-20, Providence had rolled across the mat, right under where the ladder stood. Steve made once last futile grasp for the belt, and suddenly there was the metallic clang of the ladder falling down.

And then there was the moan of agony as Steve fell right on top of it shortly after.

Both men down again.

Trying to shake off some head trauma, Providence got to his feet first. Rubbing his right eye, he once again prepared the ladder underneath the title.

As he climbed he blinked, and saw a figure push the ladder down.

This figure wasn't Christ, it was someone in a black jacket & blue jeans.

Hans Krueger.

Providence jumped off before Hans could execute major damage. What the hell was he thinking? Hans went for a roundhouse kick as the ladder fell back down to the mat.

Providence immediately threw a back elbow into his neck, staggering Krueger back.

Christ got up to see the back of Providence, and suddenly he was hoisting someone in the air. The man was coming right at him, whomever he was.

The crowd began buzzing as Providence fell down, tripping over his lead pipe. Steve grabbed the head of Krueger (even if he didn't know who it was), DDTing him down right where the ladder had fallen seconds earlier.

Problem solved.

Steve rolled off of the ladder and sat up, getting a look at the attacker for the first time.

Another one of Campbell's boys. He took the ladder from underneath Hans, and opened it up. He didn't open it up for climbing, however. Krueger was shoved into the open maw of the ladder, looking much like a shark's mouth at feeding time. Providence got up and he and Christ exchanged a look.

Christ grabbed a leg of the ladder.

Providence smiled thinly and grabbed the other end.

Steve nodded his head slightly, and they brought down the ladder on the body of Hans Krueger with an emphatic WHOMP .

"Two! Three! Four! Five!"

This wasn't intended to be interactive, but what the hell.

"Six! Seven! Eight! Nine!"

Steve made a short vertical chop with his hands and they both jumped up and spiked it down one more time.

"TEN!"

The crowd cheered--a great match wasn't going to get ruined by outside interference and they could get to the violence between the participants. Steve went to walk away and Providence spoke to him.

"We're not wrestlers."

Providence smiled, with the ladder leg still in-hand. Steve scowled at him, then looked at the fallen body of Hans Krueger. Twitching. Coughing up blood.

"What the fuck."

And so it came to pass...

"11! 12! 13! 14! 15! 16! 17! 18! 19! 20!"

Krueger's limp body fell out of the ladder to another ovation of cheers. Steve pulled him up by the coat and immediately began trash-talking him. He spat on him and slapped him, then just tossed him to Providence.

Providence looked confused, but could hear the exhortations of the crowd to do it.

Shrugging, he buried a kick into the gut of the former Team Champion, and hit the Schism.

Krueger's unconscious body merely hung off of the rim of the Asylum and Providence, for the first time in a long time, felt the cheers of the crowd all for him. He immediately mocked the fallen body of Krueger.

"That's right, you stupid Kraut fuck! I'M the champ, you worthless piece of shit! And you're not costing me my belt!"

"Yeah!" Providence turned around to see Steve still spitting at Hans. "And I'll tell you another thing..."

Steve never finished the sentence. He was too busy superkicking Providence in the side of the throat. The crowd alternately booed & cheered the maneuver, but reactions of people he was never going to meet didn't mean shit to Steve. He was here for a title. A title that'd been his for all too brief a time. The ladder was set up again, but Providence seemed to be getting up. Steve folded up the ladder, and prepared for him to get up. Providence did so, and Steve buried the tip of it in his stomach.

Providence laid bent down over the ladder, and Steve grabbed the now essentially dead body of Krueger off the rim. He hit Krueger with Divine Retribution right onto the ladder, causing a domino effect of having the ladder pop up and smack Providence right in the butt of his jaw, sending him back down yet again.

Steve looked out over the fallen bodies, and struck the double-bird crucifix for a couple of seconds. The match was in hand now. He set up the ladder, pulling it out for a final climb to regain the title.

Two rungs.

Four rungs.

Six rungs.

He felt weight on the ladder, at the seventh rung. Providence, looking extremely pissed off, and ascending on his own merits.

Steve suddenly realized he couldn't keep going up, as Providence had hooked his leg with his right arm. He decided he'd chance it and reach for the belt. Suddenly, a sharp pain hit him in the gut. Providence kept climbing, and shortly after Steve did too. He got a hand on the belt and literally his world turned gray.

Providence had caused the stomach pain with a stab of his lead pipe. This time, a full-fledged smack in the head. Christ fell forward, and Providence grabbed him. He turned, and headed back down at breakneck speed.

A gasp arose from the crowd and flashbulbs popped off left and right.

The champion had just delivered the Fall off of the ladder. He was down, recoiling from the impact.

Steve Christ's world had gone from gray to entirely black.

It was all over.

Providence lay in the ring, clutching the right arm that had delivered the final word on his uranage slam. He looked back, and saw Krueger's still unconscious body. He looked ahead and saw the fallen ladder. Beyond that, Christ wasn't even moving. He tried shaking out his right arm, only to be taken by a short attack of dizziness. Still, he had business to attend to.

The ladder was pulled vertical, but Providence couldn't pull it open due to the right arm. He stepped on the bottom rung and pulled it open with his left arm. He used the forearm to wipe the blood from his eyes and slowly began climbing. He pondered if the right arm had broken itself on the Fall as he climbed.

Sweat and blood dripped all over the ladder, and Providence slipped. He managed to hang on at the fourth rung, still in the position of authority.

Christ came to and reached for his right kneepad.

Providence wiped off the day's work--the right arm was moveable but not feeling a thing. He could feel the drops of it all over his body as he exhaustedly climbed up the ladder.

Had he not been so focused on the prize, he would've noticed that some of the drops of blood & sweat that he'd assumed were falling were actually clear. He would've noticed that Steve had thrown them onto the ladder from a small white canister.

Steve whipped out a pack of matches that he'd finagled from the right kneepad, and struck them against his five o' clock shadow. Without warning, he threw the pack at the ladder just when they were beginning to ignite.

Providence began reaching for the belt when suddenly he felt a warmth at his legs. He did a quick mental recap of the match so far, blood coming down his face. Nothing to suggest a problem with his legs.

He looked down at them.

Imagine his surprise when he found out the damn ladder was on fire.

Providence was up high, but not high enough to reach up and get a full grasp on the belt.

With a scream, he realized it was threatening to burn his boots AND his tights. He did the only thing he could.

He saved the future by making sure there was still a present.

He dove off the ladder, stop, dropped, and rolled.

Exhaustion. Blood loss. Psychosis. Bloodlust.

Which witch was which, and which witch was whom?

Steve sat up, and sucked up all his strength. Providence, now convinced he wasn't going to be immolated, came to his feet.

But the Anti-Christ Superstar had a trick up his sleeve. More importantly, he had a chair in his hands.

Pissed off, Providence stared at him. Steve glared back. What the hell had happened to the Providence he knew and could run over like a freight train?

Providence's head pitched forward this time, but he took his pain and turned it into a yell. "Bring it on, you douchebag! Bring it the fuck on!"

Steve just stared at his opponent and for the first time in a long time became very, very afraid. Grimacing, he swung the chair and in his deepest of hearts felt even more like his world was coming apart at the seams.

The chair slipped from his hands as he prepared the killing blow. All he could do, seemingly, was watch as Providence reached out and caught it. Providence swung the chair the moment he grasped it. It made a dull thud against the mat. Christ jumped up and punched the chair into the face of Providence.

FUCKHEAD.

Providence, now having suffered three fair amounts of mid-major head trauma in the recent past, was still not going down just quite yet. He took steps back, and lurched forward.

Steve hooked him up.

The Fall.

Christ rolled with the impact, and landed at the head of Providence. He pulled himself up and looked out at the sea of fans. He pulled his kneepad down. Arms outstretched, he made pointing gestures as his arms swung back and forth against his chest.

He ran to the left.

He leaped over Providence.

He ran to the right.

He came back and jumped up, burying his knee into the wound of Providence.

The People's Kneedrop?

Whatever it was called, the crowd cheered voiciferously as the impact was made. Steve got a foot on the ladder and suddenly landed on the mat.

Rungs began falling off of the ladder.

The fire had ruined them.

Didn't matter to Providence--he ran at Steve and tackled him, laying in a flurry of left and right hands. Workers hustled down with two more ladders and discreetly dropped them off backstage as Providence continued his assault. Christ thrust an finger towards Providence's eye, causing him to fall back off of him. Christ gathered his breath and tried to unscatter his clouded mind. Providence was up--staring down Christ, practically frothing at the mouth and waiting for Christ to get up.

What he did next shocked everyone.

He used one leg and launched himself at Steve Christ, then launched himself through the air with a spin. Steve, not knowing what to expect and just trying to establish a vertical base, was absolutely helpless for the...Double Touch?

The Double FRIGGIN' Touch?!

Steve spun out upon impact, and landed face down. In another tiny tragedy, his face bounced off the steel chair to boot. The crowd was silent for a quick moment, before they all burst out in random cheers: AS EYE LUM! HO LEE SHIT! PROV UH DENCE! Providence looked around before picking up the ladder, and watching the remaining rungs fall from it.

"Bah." With a grunt, he tossed the now-worthless original ladder to the outside and saw the new ladders. Gingerly, he left the cage over the top and headed for the outside. He got there in one quick fall. Steve Christ tossed the chair, effectively smashing Providence's back and sending him flying right into the ladders on the floor. A new HO LEE SHIT! chant arose as Steve rolled around on the mat. Providence lay on the two ladders, and Christ got a second wind. He flung his body up, determined to get to his feet, nipping up. Obviously, this wasn't the same Providence he beat at Fight Hell II. Extreme measures would have to be taken.

Providence rolled off, clutching his back and grabbed a ladder. Hell, Christ was still down. At least that's what he thought. Providence, on his knees, clutched the edge of the ladder.

Steve began executing a handspring. Providence got to his feet facing the CampbellTron with the ladder in hand. Christ somersaulted over the top in a moment that popped the flashbulbs in the arena. Providence turned around and WHAM.

Christ hit the ladder which hit Providence with a plancha, wiping out both men on the floor. Steve Christ completeists would note he hadn't done the move since May of 1997 in FMW, when it was better known as the Space Flying Tiger Drop and to himself as the Where's Your Messiah Now? That, however, was unimportant. Christ had recovered from the Double Touch, and was still in it. Providence wasn't about to have his reign of double gold ended without a fight, fancy-ass Japanese moves or not.

Steve clutched at his ribs that'd smacked the steel, and Providence grabbed the ladder as a fulcrum before getting all the way up on his own feet. He grabbed the second ladder with the first underneath his opponent and went to sandwich him out of the match. Providence brought it up, but heard nothing but the solid crunching of steel on steel as Christ rolled out of the way. The fingers of Providence twinged with pain, but suddenly he had a new KICK WHAM THIRD COMING.

The Television Champion's eyes rolled around in their sockets as his chin bounced hard off of the shoulder, but he still was on his feet. Christ went for another kick to the gut, but Providence held the KICK portion in place. So Steve improvised.

Enzuigiri.

Double-arm DDT.

On the ladders.

Another huge pop as Steve blew the spiderwebs off of his old signature, the Truth. Woozy, he grabbed a ladder and threw it in the Asylum. It just bounced off the rim and came down on the floor. Christ stumbled down to the edge and tossed it in for good. Providence was still down on the outside as Christ set up the ladder in the ring. 10 rungs away from a second Extreme Title reign.

8 rungs.

6 rungs.

4 rungs.

WHACK.

Providence tossed in the second ladder from the floor, smashing Steve in the side of the head. He began falling off to his right, but his left hand suddenly grabbed the rung second from the top and he hung there to the side, body jerking to get him back on the ladder. After some near-misses, it was finally completed. He was safe.

What are you, stupid? He wasn't safe at all. Providence got back inside the Asylum and in a shocking display of power, bearhugged the ladder and pulled Steve with it away from the title. Steve looked around in confusion and shock before the Ohioan suddenly let go of the ladder over his head. The ladder bounced off of the rim, and Steve hit them both with a massive impact.

The Schism. Kinda.

Providence sat down with a stunned look upon his face, not unlike July 7th when he'd been close to winning the title. But he'd won then. And he was going to win it now. The second ladder he'd thrown that'd helped save his reign was going to do so now. Providence executed a forward roll, and set up the ladder in the center right under the belt. Now, there was no doubt.

Providence ambled up the ladder. Clear sailing at 2 rungs. Four rungs down, six to go. Six rungs. Seven rungs and the other ladder got buried in his ribs. Providence tried kicking it away, but it was the tip off the ladder and with his boots already burnt it felt like he'd just dropped a sledgehammer on his toes. Christ wouldn't die. He kept jamming the ladder into Providence's ribs, until his arms got tired and the ladder dropped from his hands. He was at the point of exhaustion.

Providence had slipped a couple of rungs, but after seeing Christ stop his assault for consecutive seconds, he realized he quite possibly had one last best chance at a title retention. He went up to the sixth rung when he felt a hand tug at his right leg. Going down to kick Steve off, he was suddenly met by a huge thrusting uppercut that hit him right in the genitalia. He began falling back and Steve hooked him around the waist.

The ladder clattered back down to the ground.

Both men were airborne.

Steve was in full control, and he just leaned back a little more and let gravity do it's work.

Providence tried to reverse, but suddenly realized he was a straight line.

And that was the steel chair.

And he couldn't do dick to stop it.

A sickening THWACK.

Steve Christ, absolutely desperate to keep Providence down, had done everything he possibly could. He slowed his opponent with shots to the ribs. He kept him from making that final climb to the top. To keep him from doing so even more, he had delivered a low blow.

But THIS, THIS...had to be the mother of all killing blows.

Backdrop driver.

Off a ladder.

Onto a chair.

Steve was exhausted.

Providence was legally dead in 17 states, Puerto Rico, and the U.S. Virgin Islands.

Thus was born the HOLY FUCKING SHIT chant.

Steve sat up first, then looked behind himself. Providence hadn't moved an inch. He went forward on his knees, grabbing the ladder and putting it under the belt. He set it up. Pausing to gather breath, he began climbing. The match was over.

Two rungs. Easy.

Four rungs. He could smell the belt now.

Six rungs. It was over.

Eight rungs. Revenge was his.

Nine rungs. He reached up for the belt, and loosened it from the ring that it had been placed on.

"Heresy" hit the system and Steve Christ was now a two-time Extreme Champion of the Asylum. He struck his pose at the top of the ladder with the belt in hand and screamed out.

Relief. Joy. Exhaustion.

The point had been made.

Zotan winked at Beef.

Beef charged like a little girl at him and began a pseudo-catfight with him.

Avo just kinda stood there and watched the two catfight. He was about to rush in and attack both of them, but then he saw that the camera was on him, and he stopped.

Then, he produced a large book on a stand, a stick, and a professor's hat.

"Oh my god, this match is never going to end." Joey said.

"Quiet, this is the good part. :-D" Nine responded.

"While these two are busy fighting, I would like to explain the process of how babies are made." Avo said, pointing at the book with his stick. "The male encounters the female and he's all "WASSUP BITCH", and the female is all like "OOH, ME SO HORNY". So the male decides to take the female to the place of mating, commonly known as ZE BEDROOM.

There, both the male and the female will shed their skin and proceed to make sweet love by the fire. And the male is all "UNF UNF UNF" and the female is all like "OHHH OHHHHH" and she's orgasming and you're all "YAY I MADE HER ORGASM". So, after he's done mackin' it, the male's all "GET OUT BITCH" and the female is all "AWWW". So, we wait a few months, and the female comes back to the male and she's all "GOD DAMMIT, I TOLD YOU TO USE A CONDOM, BUT DID YOU LISTEN? NO!!". And the male's all like ":-(". So, when it all passes, the female is all big and fat and the male's all like "OH CRAP I'M GONNA BE A DADDY". And then her water breaks and she's all "OH MY HOLIEST GOD, WHAT THE HELL IS THIS PAIN". Then the baby comes out through the vag-OOF!"

"Oh, thank god." was Joey's response to Zotan getting fed up with Avo's explaination of babies and hitting him upon the head with the nearest blunt object.

Which, ironically enough, was a giant blunt.

Zotan continued to beat down on Avo with a giant blunt, before Beef came in with a giant can of beer. He tapped Zotan on the shoulder.

"Mind if I take a shot?"

Zotan thought about it.

"Beer?"

"Yes. Beer. I found it at the Giant Beer Can Store. Over there." Beef said, pointing in the direction of said store. Zotan dropped the blunt.

"Ooh! Alcohol!"

With that, Zotan wandered away, leaving Beef to set the giant blunt leaning against a bench, and the giant can of beer standing some distance between it and the blunt. Beef pulled Avo to his feet, and grabbed another nearby weapon that appeared suddenly.

"Hey, Avo!"

"What?"

"IT'S TIME TO PLAY THE GAAAAMMMMEEEE~!"

THUNK!

"Dude! You just hit me with your Nintendo! And it didn't even hurt!"

"This isn't going to end, is it?" Joey asked himself, as Avo just kinda stood there and was wondering what was going on, while Beef looked up at Avo, then down at the Nintendo, then up at Avo, then down at the Nintendo. Repeat this about eight times before Beef looked at Avo again.

"You're supposed to sell."

Avo's mask contorted to that of surprise.

"OH!"

Avo fell over and clutched his head, moaning in fake pain. He rolled around on the mall floor and started waving his legs around as he held his head. Beef stood over him, and tore off his kneepad, throwing it towards a charging Ken War. Ken War was blinded and couldn't see anything in front of him.

Beef waved his arms and ran toward the giant beer can. He bounced off it(don't ask us how) and started to hop, the last hop sending him over Avo. Beef did the Macarena, and spun around for the legdrop, but instead he moonwalked backwards until he reached the blunt. Then he charged forward and dropped the Most Jobberifying Legdrop in Sports Entertainment Today.

The Epic Beef Drop.

Avo no-sold it and got to his feet.

"There's no way you're making me sell that." Avo said, before decking Beef with a salami.

"A... salami?!" Joey asked, as Janitor Nine just simply shrugged. "God, if I wasn't trapped in this mall with electric fencing and a death trap, I would've left here long before this match had started."

"Ahahahaha, but you can't, sillybilly! :-D" Janitor Nine said.

Before Avo could continue to pound on Beef with the salami, Zotan came back with another giant beer can, and he decided to test it out by whacking Avo in the back with it. Beef used the opportunity to grab the other beer can, and as Avo turned around, Beef and Zotan swung at the same time.

"CON-BEER-TO!!! =D" Nine yelled.

"...You have got to be kidding me." Joey said. It wasn't the fact that Avo took two giant beer cans to the head. That, Joey could deal with. What he couldn't deal with was the fact that Avo didn't even sell it.

"Avo. You have got to work on this selling thing." Beef said. Zotan just stood there and thought about it before he came up with a solution to the selling problem.

He kicked Avo right in the balls. Avo doubled over, but didn't go down. So, Zotan turned to Beef, and Beef turned to Zotan.

"CON-BALL-TO!!! =D" Nine yelled.

"Zuh?!" was Joey's response, as Avo *finally* went down to a double kick to the balls. Beef and Zotan immediately dogpiled on top of Avo, and the referee, who was busy smoking the giant blunt, finally clued in to the pin and made the pin.

One.

Two.

Three.

Two left.

Ken War was still stumbling around with Beef's kneepad on his face, not aware that he was walking straight toward Ghandi Tod's war elephant who was literally covered in blood.

Ken War was firmly SQUISHED just a few moments later.

"Now we're going to go to the final two, after these messages! =D" Janitor Nine said, excitedly.

There was an awkward pause.

"Nine. This is a pay-per-view. There are no commercial br-" Joey started, just before the scene cut to an ad for Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, interrupting him.

"Negative Creep" by Nirvana.

It almost felt good. The control. To pick out a theme song and fill out my bio only knowing that this would be my last time out there among the whooping and hollering mongoloids. I stormed down to the Asylum boo'd for all that I was worth. Which in their eyes...was nothing. If shit could be made from concentrate. I was it.

"Closer" by Nine Inch Nails.

And in walked the bane of my existence. A petty baby stagger and some teary eyes. He didn't want to get into this ring. While anyone with a heart would've seen a frightened man, I saw the end of my pain. I saw a mess that needed to be cleaned.

I saw absolution for all my transgressions.

In seconds, I took flight over the rim of the Asylum twisting my body into a corkscrew and crashing into Rave. I sprung to my feet quickly seconds before Rave...I began to feel every part of my body as an extension of my training. I shot punches, elbows and kicks out at him.

Some he blocked and some connected with his skull. He stumbled backward and reeling from my blows...he fell against the barrier raising a hand for me to yield...but rage had taken complete control.

Yield, I did not. I charged in, fist swinging, fists connecting. Rave's face bleeding. Me smiling.

Rave running. Me chasing. The crowd's roar was nonsensical gibberish. Some kind of screamed grunting sound...in between boo's and shock. I tackled Rave to the ground and began to pummel him. Sitting on his back I sent every fist into the back of his head, all I could think about was Contessa. Her face. Her body. The way she would lean on one heel and scowl at someone. And somewhere swimming in with those memories was the need to make Rave's skull look like Contessa gaping and bloody womb.

I pulled Rave to his feet and launched him into the steel steps sending them flying about the arena, he moaned in pain and begged for me..."in the name of our love"...to stop. Vengeance doesn't have ears. I dragged him kicking and screaming into the Asylum. The crowd hardly even reacted.

There was nothing to react to. This was a match with no build up. No heat. They didn't even know what this was about. Just another Rave and Villam match. Only this time...for whatever reason...Rave wasn't fighting back. I snagged Rave with a flying kick sending him into the wire mesh. With all the fury of an animal I charging into him snarling, the punches connecting with any viable surface of his murderous body.

I dragged his wounded head across the rim and slammed his repeatedly teeth first into the unforgiving steel. In my own justified rage, I had completely lost sight of my initial goal.

Maiming was my way. I didn't care about killing Rave. Suffering had become my form of death. Soon, Rave was curled up into a ball in the corner of the ring, sniveling and crying...futily shielding himself from my blows. Sickened with his desire to defend himself I began to kick him like a dog.

My feet crashing down on his ribs and kidneys. He was weak and at my mercy...I came here to kill Rave.

Why waste anymore time?

I pulled my gun free.

This was it. The crowd ducked for cover. They knew the routine. How many times has a gun been pulled out at a PPV event? How many Jordan's and Natalia's does it take for these people to realize that what's happening in here is real. And that they...the obeyers of normalcy...should do all that they can to distance themselves from this human wasteland...

This gun, wasn't just a metal object that fired smaller metal objects at the enemy. It was a mop, a broom and a bottle of windex. He was a cleanser. I lowered my pistol at Rave, who got to his knees and looked up at me with wet blue eyes. Who knew what's those eyes said....

"VILLAM!"

Joe Campbell, right on fucking cue. The police that I called seconds before I started this "match" were tagged along behind him. Joe was not pleased...and the police with their hands on their guns were way over ready to put a bullet in some crazy nigger.

"Villam, stop it...stop it this instant! I told you! I can't protect you if you choose to kill him. I know what happened Villam. I know about Contessa."

The crowd confused as ever looked at me, then back at Joe. The police, wrapped up in their own confusion...loosed their grips around their standard issued weapons. Rave was on his knees...sobbing...

"...you loved me....you said..." Sob-Sob... "....and...Raina...what about Raina?"

And just behind the officers....in walked Maribelle and Raina.

"There he IS! He killed Contessa!"

Yeah, I did. This is my fault. I started this. I am responsible. I have to finish it. I have to. I pulled the hammer back. Rave's sobs got louder.

"PUT THE WEAPON DOWN!!" The police screamed in unison. Joe stood in front of them..."NO!! Don't, wait...he didn't..."

"Shut the fuck up, Campbell." I had to get involved. Couldn't have Joe planting the seeds of my innocence could we?

"I SAID PUT THE GUN DOWN OR WE WILL OPEN FIRE!!!"

"Yes, gentlemen...you do that...." I said.

"I'm going to pull this trigger, like it or not. He has to die. Men...I have something to say...."

The air got thick...

"The man who killed Contessa and left her cold dead body, womb open...was......

was...."

The air got really thick and cold. The coldness caressed my face. And Rave teary face was getting fuzzy as my own tears burst forth for resisting ducts.

"Your murder...the man who kill Contessa was.....was....."

"PUT THE GUN DOWN!" They yelled again....

I had to get myself together. It was you, VILLAM. Say it! You fucking killed her! I just couldn't...the air was colder now. And I could see every happy moment with Contessa. I could see her, with those sad angry eyes. Looking down on me and stroking me like she would do to my hair in my drunken sleep. Her head shook. And deep down in my own soul...I could hear her say....

"you tried."

I tried. This wasn't my fault. I didn't put that knife in her. I didn't even want any part of this world when I was brought back into it. Why should I play the very same mind games with myself that I used to play? Do I want to create another Ender by giving in to this guilt ridden bad ass routine? And...Rave....killing him or not....there's not much that would change. He'll never been the same.

None of us will.

I'm not taking responsibility for this. I'm not going to beat myself up for something that I couldn't help. Sure, the sense of blame will always be there. But...this....this is a crime I did not commit.

I knew what I had to do.

"Your killer........is Rave Caprino. You'll find the murder weapon taped to the underside of a kitchen drawer. I was going to have it hidden after I killed Caprino...but....Rave....he's the one. Aren't you, Rave?"

Rave just lowered his head.

I dropped my weapon. The police swarmed the Asylum arresting us both.

And then...It was over.

Bad blood was the name of the game in the Asylum, and never before had bad blood been brewing as it had between Tyler Hughes, Roland Miles Erman and Richard Williams, the story between Hypnosis and LLB went back a long way, they'd fought each other on many occasion and while the battles were always bloody, the outcomes were not always clear.

The history between Hypnosis and Ricky Wasp however, was a far more recently told one... its nature however, went back hundreds and even thousands of years, it was a story of persecution... racism, and the sheer need to be supreme.

Ricky Wasp despised Hypnosis, and his reasons for doing so were no more complicated than the fact that Hypnosis was black, in the eyes of the monster, he was a nigger who didn't deserve the right to do anything, let alone choose whether or not he would fight beside Ricky.

Two weeks ago, Wasp had suffered not only the humiliation of teaming with Hypnosis, but also the humiliation of losing as a result, Wasp was a simple and yet destructive man... and despite contributing to his own team's demise, defeat had still left a bitter taste in his mouth.

A taste that would all be washed away, with a simple victory.

It wasn't that simple however... the winner of the bout would go on to face the Asylum champion at Immortals, victory in that match... and the winner truly could take the spoils, for an Immortal title shot would be next.

As the proceedings began, the fans watched three men... either of which, could soon be Immortal.

"Bkac & White" by Static-X cued up first, and the crowd rose to their feet to cheer on the Lawyer LLB, he brushed through the curtain with a trademark look of determination in his eye, storming down to the Asylum and clambering in... as he met the final step and entered through the door, his music died down... and was replaced by that music of Hypnosis.

"Brutality" by Urban Voodoo.

Hypnosis parted the curtain and recieved a reaction much the same as LLB's, crowd elation... he paced down the aisle fixing a glare on the Lawyer, which he maintained all the way up the steps and finally into the Asylum, a matter of seconds later, Hypnosis were nose to nose, and eye to eye.

And that's when their gaze was broken.

"The Shawshank Redemption" by Thomas Newman, a chilling track which brought the crowd to hiss and boo as Ricky Wasp and Father slipped through the curtain, our of the frying pan and into the proverbial fire... greeted by harsh reactions, the hulking Wasp didn't even bat an eyelid... LLB and Hypnosis however, did.

The two... somewhat uncharacteristically turned to each other, suddenly discussing amongst themselves as the monster made his way down to the Asylum, it was ironic... in wrestling the favourite would always be the last out... but in the Asylum, the last out was usually the one most likely to cause impromptu problems.

As Wasp reached the Asylum, he clambered in... and was subject of a sudden crowd reaction inciting attack... Hypnosis and LLB swooped in unexpectedly, tackling the massive Wasp to the ground and pounding him with vicious kicks and punches, everything they had... Wasp flailed around desperately, looking to catch either of the men with a rogue punch or kick, but LLB and Hypnosis were ready, evading the heavy blows and striking with accurace and not power, a method which was rapidly picking Wasp apart.

As Wasp finally jerked his massive frame and pushed the two away, he rose to his feet and shook his head, dazed and bleeding from the lip, he rushed in, but the two struck again, each man this time taking a leg and lifting Wasp from the ground, before dropping backward and dropping him neck first over the Asylum rim, as Ricky gasped for air, LLB and Hypnosis leaned forward and once again toppled him to the canvas, before laying into him with yet more punches and kicks.

Thwap.

The two once again hit the canvas, thrown off as Wasp once again struggled to his feet... as LLB and Hypnosis struggled up, Wasp rushed at them like a bull which had nothing but red in its sights, like a bull however... his run was driven by rage and not intelligence.

LLB stooped under the massive swing of his arm, before stooping and whipping through the back of his legs with a chop block, as Wasp fell backward... Hypnosis caught him square in the face with a wicked lariat, the huge tree had finally been felled.

And with it, descention in the ranks.

LLB suddenly rushed at Hypnosis, lowering his head and looking for the Erroneous Conclusion... Hypnosis however had it well scouted, leaping over the rushing Lawyer and allowing him to cannon head first into the Asylum mesh, busting himself open in the painful process.

As LLB stumbled back, Hypnosis caught him with another favourite move, a sleeperhold under the chin and around the neck, as Hypnosis wrenched back... he took the Lawyer kicking and struggling off his feet, LLB's face grew bright red as he struggled for air, but soon enough... Hypnosis found himself in a similar position.

And astonishing feat, the massive Ricky Wasp rose to his feet and locked a sleeper hold on Hypnosis, he arched his back, and suddenly... LLB was in the air via a Hypnosis sleeper, and Hypnosis was in the air via a Ricky Wasp sleeper!

The crowd erupted with surprise, Hypnosis struggled for air and as the oxygen failed to reach his muscles, he dropped a gasping LLB to the canvas, Wasp... who's load was suddenly lightened... started to shake Hypnosis violently, in doing this however... he didn't notice a snarling LLB... picking up second wind and rushing toward the two.

All three men pelted to the canvas with a massive thud, LLB's blow sending shockwaves through all three of the individuals... in a tribute to their tenacity however, each man struggled back to his respective vertical base before the ten count.

Hypnosis... lashing out with a notably interesting attack.

Salt, to the eyes... of Ricky Wasp.

Hypnosis reached into his tights and showered Wasp's face with salt, the giant fell to the ground in agony rubbing his face, as Hypnosis rushed toward LLB and tackled him to the ground, as the two traded blows on the canvas... Wasp staggered to his feet shaking his head and glaring through blurred eyes.

At which point... Hypnosis pushed LLB into him.

Wasp lashed out with instinct, grabbing LLB by the throat and choking him high into the air, in a few seconds, he'd squeezed the life from him and hurled him back to the canvas with his finisher, Purity, LLB hit with a thud motionless... as Wasp continued to stumble around the Asylum struggling to see...

... to see more importantly, Hypnosis.

Who displayed a mean feat of strength.

By lifting the massive frame of Ricky Wasp onto his shoulders, and whipping him stunningly to the canvas with Knocked The Fuck Out, the KTFO... the crowd exploded with cheers as Wasp's head snapped back and he fell to the floor with a thud... the crowd weren't however, too enthusiastic about Hypnosis' next move.

As opposed to furthering his assault on Wasp... who twitched on the canvas... he moved over to the unconscious LLB, and twisted him over into the Hypnotiser, the referee checked on the Lawyer... and given his unconscious state, had no other option than to call the match in favour of Hypnosis.

Suffice to say, the crowd weren't pleased.

"Brutality" by Urban Voodoo hit the speakers as Hypnosis made a quick exit out of the Asylum... as he did... a foaming at the mouth Ricky Wasp came to his senses and started to destroy the ringside area in a fit of rage... at the same time, the camera caught a quick glimpse of the awakening LLB.

Who's rage, will held back... was still clearly present.

Battle over, war far from won.

"ZOTAN! HELP MEEEEEE!!!" Joey Malone yelled at his fellow 21W wrestler, waving his arms frantically behind their broadcast table. He was hoping that Zotan would see him and help him escape his predicament, but Zotan was completely oblivious to him, even after passing his eyes past the broadcast table twice.

Beef and Zotan made a staredown.

They went for the beer cans.

SMACK!

SMACK!

SMACK!

SPILL!

Upon the cracking of beer can-on-beer can, the giant cans of beer finally broke and spilled all over, drenching everyone in the mall, somehow, with the alcoholic beverage.

"Well. That sucks." Beef said, as somehow, as unrealistic as it may sound, the beers continued to spill, and by the time they finally emptied, the first floor of the mall was flooded in beer.

"BEER! YES!" some guy named Paul Levine yelled, leaping from the third floor of the Mall down into the beer ocean. Beef and Zotan, standing on what used to be the stage where the introductions for Mall Brawl: When Janitors Collide took place, and what was now a makeshift raft, saw this, shrugged, and looked at each other.

"Zotan, you know that there's only ONE way to settle our dispute." Beef said, before pulling out a spherical, red and white object.

"We must settle it through Pokemon."

Zotan thought about it. "Couldn't I just shove my sock down your throat?"

"No."

"Dammit."

Zotan shrugged and pulled out his own Pokeball.

They had another epic staredown, prompting Joey, who was now floating on the broadcasting table, to yell out.

"SOMEONE KILL SOMEONE ELSE!!!"

Beef reared back and tossed his Pokeball to the floor.

"BOB DOLE, I CHOOSE YOU!!!"

The Pokeball opened up in a brilliant array of lights, and a blob light suddenly burst out of the ball. It bounced onto the floor and burst outward, becoming Bob Dole. Zotan examined Bob Dole, who was constantly saying "BOB DOLE" while waving around Viagra bottles and drinking Pepsi.

"Oh yeah?" Zotan questioned.

"YEAH!" Beef responded.

"Oh YEAH!?"

"YEAH!"

"OH YEAH!?!?!"

"Um... yes?"

"Well, then allow me to show you what a REAL man has for a Pokemon!" Zotan said, tossing his Pokeball to the floor. "FONZIE! I CHOOSE YOU!!!"

Suddenly, the Pokeball bursts and Fonzie appears from it. Almost immediately, Fonzie adjusted his leather jacket and produced a comb to brush his hair. He turned to Bob Dole.

"HEEEYYYY!!!"

Bob Dole and Fonzie just stood there and did what they do. Bob Dole promoted Viagra. Fonzie looked cool. Zotan scratched his head at this, and called over to Beef.

"Now what do we do?"

"We're supposed to give them orders. Like this! BOB DOLE... VIAGRA SHOCK!"

Suddenly, Bob Dole stopped promoting Viagra and proceeded to pop in a pill in his mouth.

After washing it down with Pepsi, Bob Dole's penis suddenly grew large and punched Fonzie in the jaw, sending him down. His penis suddenly went back to normal, but the image of seeing a man's own penis being used as a projectile weapon will probably last in our heads forever.

Zotan blinked in shock.

"Hey, that's not cool! FONZIE! KICK HIS ASS!"

With that, Fonzie kipped up, marched over to Bob Dole, and simply punched him in the jaw. Suddenly, Bob Dole began to play music. "My Way" by Frank Sinatra, actually. After all, Fonzie WAS capable of starting up jukeboxes with his fists. Finally, Bob Dole fell over.

"NOOOOO!!!!!!!!!" Beef yelled. When he saw that no one really cared about Bob Dole, he took him back and pulled out another Pokeball.

"This isn't over, Zotan of Gribblfritz! I still have one more Pokeball!" Beef said, indeed, pulling out a second Pokeball. "DMX! I CHOOSE YOU!"

And suddenly, DMX appeared from Beef's Pokeball.

"Ya'll gonna make me lose my mind! Up in here! Up in here!" DMX rapped.

Zotan took a step backwards. "Um... Zuh?!"

"DMX! USE YOUR CHILDREN ATTACK!!!" Beef yelled. Suddenly, DMX started chanting "deh-deck", and a bunch of children just appear out of nowhere, all saying "I am DMX." in sequence. Fonzie was confused, up until the children suddenly rushed him, all attacking him in his legs and, unfortunately for him, his nutsack. Zotan realized that he was in trouble, and pulled him out.

Now, he was confronted with the problem of having no Pokemon, so he decided to go for his backup plan. He reached for the tube sock that was hanging from his testicles, and he was about to put it to use, but then he felt something odd about his sock, and took it off.

Out fell a Pokeball.

"How did THAT get there?" Zotan asked himself. Then again, this whole match has been one crazy "how did that happen?" thrill ride, and Joey Malone knew it, and he called out to Zotan.

"ZOTAN! JUST USE IT ALREADY!"

Zotan shrugged and tossed it down.

Out came Martha Stewart.

"You have got to be KIDDING me." was Joey's response.

Everyone that was still around in this beer-flooded mall were all taken aback by this new twist on Mall Brawl: When Janitors Collide.

"Um... Martha... floral attack?" was all Zotan said. With that, Martha Stewart suddenly grew horns and a tail, and got a demonic look on her face. She grabbed DMX and started to...

floalize him.

"NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!" was all Beef could yell. He couldn't take it, and he finally took DMX back. Zotan hastilly took Martha back so as not to overexpose her true evil to the world, and Beef dropped to his knees. He continued to cry, a broken, defeated man.

That's when Zotan stuffed "Mr. Sucko" down his throat.

"MMPH! MMPH!" Beef yelled, in vain, as he tried to get the sock out of his mouth. Finally, Zotan released it. Beef turned around and spit the sock into the beer lake.

Fatal mistake.

Shock Treatment.

Zotan applied the hold in the center of the raft. Nothing could save Beef, now. No one except...

"cherarge!!111"

Ken War.

Ken War was in a beer-powered submarine, called the War Machine, whose parascope was looking directly at the raft that Zotan and Beef were on. He suddenly yelled out.

"fyer hardkorr toprpedoaes!!1111"

And with that, torpedoes were launched.

But, if you know anything about Ken War by now, you'd probably guess that the torpedoes were a wee bit faulty.

BOOM!

One destroyed submarine, one again-dead Ken War, and a huge geyser of beer. If Joe Campbell were here, he'd be in heaven. Meanwhile, Joey Malone took matters into his own hands. He produced a referee's shirt, and put it on. He leapt into the beer and swam to the raft where Zotan was busy choking out Beef. Beef was out, and Joey did the arm raise thing.

It dropped once.

It dropped twice.

It dropped three times.

"RING THE BELL! PLEASE, GOD, RING THE BELL!" Joey shouted.

Somewhere in the mall, a referee mooed.

It was all over. The beer was seemingly being drained, although some people say that Paul Levine had successfully drunk all of it and he was still only slightly tipsy. Zotan was handed the North Dakotan Janitorweight title, and like that, it was a dark day for the Asylum.

21st Century Wrestling now had the Janitorweight title.

Ken War was seemingly revived again, and he quickly tried to rush over to get the title back for the Asylum, but he missed completely, tripped over the unconscious body of Beef, and broke his neck.

With a shrug, Zotan left the scene. Joey did as well, glad to finally be rid of the stupidity that was Mall Brawl: When Janitors Collide III.

Token Weed.

And so a month of plotting and scheming had finally come to fruition, the carefully planted seeds of an Asylum Championship snatching plan had been planted, and now the produce was ripe and there for the taking.

One month ago, Token Weed paid Joe Campbell in exchange for documents detailing a mental condition the Asylum champion had developed, that and Joe Campbell's silence... for a month he had befriended Tyler Burton in a twisted plot to get inside his head, and now that he was there... he was ready to take everything he had.

As Token made his way dow the aisle, the crowd booed him insanely, they too had a good idea of his alterior motives, but Inmate's fragile mindset had left him exposed to the kind of plan which Token had crafted.

He clambered up into the Asylum with a sinister smile on his face, following the job he'd done on Tyler Burton earlier on the night, it was more than likely that he'd have to be awarded the title by default via a no show on the part of the champion.

Unfortunately, he was wrong... and his night got off to a bad start following an unexpected announcer cry.

"The following matchup is scheduled for one fall, and is a LOSER LEAVES FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE match for the Asylum Championship!" The announcer roared, as did the crowd... exploding with cheers at the announcement.

Token however, was not impressed.

"Like fuck it is." Token snarled, grabbing the announcer by the scruff of his neck "Who the fuck told you that?"

Token knew deep down exactly who had made the decision, but before he could do anything about it... he was shocked for a second time.

"I Disappear" by Metallica.

The music of a champion.

The music of THE champion.

Tyler Burton, walked out onto the ramp... and the crowd exploded with cheers, Token appeared as though he'd seen a ghost.

Drenched in his own blood, Inmate breathed heavily and snarled, a gaping wound already across the top of his eye which was swelling rapidly shut, and several deep trauma bruises across his ribs, he was pissed.

"You fuckin' want this Sean? Then come and get it!" Inmate roared, pummeling his title belt with his fist before suddenly hurling it down the aisle and setting off toward the Asylum at run, the crowd exploded in anticipation, but exploded even more at what occured shortly after.

Token Weed, had certainly done his homework.

Who said wrestling skills didn't have their advantages?

Token rushed, wowing the crowd with a quick cartwheel which gave him the momentum to fly, full moonsault style... all the way over the Asylum rim and to the aisle, crashing with a crossbody onto the rapidly advancing Asylum Champion, the two crashed to the floor but it was the Inmate whom was worse for wear, the blow completely killing his momentum and adrenaline all in one.

Token Weed had no trouble getting to his feet.

"Get up you fuck, when I'm finished with you, you'll wish you'd stayed backstage in the pool of blood I left you in." Token snarled, yanking Inmate up by the head, before whipping him body first into the steel Asylum steps, the champion crashed into them and hit the arena floor with a resounding thud.

"Fucking falls count anywhere? That does me fine bitch... Joe can add whatever stipulations he wants, it won't matter in the end... I'll still win..." Token growled, yanking up the tape which held the ringside camera cables in place, before wrapping the wire firmly around Inmate's neck.

"... and you'll still lose." Token finished, slamming the Inmate face down on the steps, before placing a foot in the small of his back and yanking back on the cable, throttling him.

"Fuck... you!" Inmate gargled, as Token released the hold and sent several solid punches into the back of his head,,, he paced around the Asylum, before promptly snapping shut a steel chair and making his way back toward the Inmate... who was now staggering away with the cable still wrapped firmly around his neck.

Token smiled sadistically, before crouching and taking a firm handfull of the cable, one solid yank later... the Inmate was stumbling toward...

A stunning chair shot which echoed through the arena! Burton fell to the ground, the deep gash on his head now gushing with fresh red blood... Token Weed wasn't finished however, he pulled the cable from around the near unconscious Inmate's neck, before pushing him into a slumped position next to the guard rail, and jamming the chair into his face.

Before moving around to the other side of the ring steps...

... running ...

... and vaulting off them.

The crowd exploded with dismay, and erupted with joy... as Token Weed flew through the air with a huge and viciously attempted Pump Kick, he came out empty handed however, as Inmate somehow mustered the strength to roll away, leaving Token to fly through the air and deliver a kick to nothing but chair and guard rail.

He roared in agony.

Token rolled around clutching his knee... he'd definately tweaked something in the impact... a blessing in disguise perhaps for the injured and out Inmate... who still lay motionless on the arena floor.

"Mother... FUCKER!" Token grimaced, struggling to his feet and attempting to straighten his injured knee... after a couple of awkward paces, he picked up the Inmate and sent several wicked right hand jabs to his temple, before pulling open the Asylum door and dumping him on the canvas.

Token however, wasn't done.

He yanked the steel steps from their base, and hurled them over the Asylum rim, and down onto the Asylum Champion with a thud, the crowd grimaced as Token clambered up and into the Asylum, picking up the steps and placing them adjacent to the announce table on the outside... whatever Token Weed was plotting, you could be sure it involved the end of Tyler Burton's title reign.

He picked up the Inmate and yanked him over to the steps, before setting him up for what would have been a shocking belly to back suplex over the Asylum rim, and onto the table.

The key word, being would.

Inmate suddenly struck with a burst of adrenaline from nowhere... spinning behind Token, he... in a flash, hoisted him up onto his shoulders, and...

Dropped him over the Asylum rim and through the announce table with an explosive Olympic Slam, courtesy of Kurt Angle... Token lay completely motionless on the outside as the Inmate collapsed to the canvas, the referee began his count.

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Token Weed... somehow, staggered groggily to his feet, as he did... the Inmate rose inside the Asylum, using the rim as a makeshift support for his tired legs, Token checked his surroundings, before pushing Jean Paul Peters aside and snatching his chair from beneath him, as he snapped it shut... an unseen danger flew from above.

The crowd exploded, as the Inmate launched himself off the steps and over the Asylum rim, connecting with a solid elbow, which in turn sent Token Weed's steel chair rattling straight into his face!

A modified fuckhead, if ever there was one.

As the two lay motionless amongst the wreckage of the destroyed announce table, Token started to bleed profusely from a newly opened wound on his head, the two lay motionless for several moments as the referee leapt down out of the Asylum to administer a count.

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Amazingly, Token Weed was the first up... a testament to his consistent resilience as an Asylum fighter... speaking of resilience however, the Inmate was steadily up with him... and the two began an exchange of dazed right and left hands... each blow knocking the groggy recipient a little further back, finally... Token succumbed to the pressure and lunged forth with a headbutt... how was trapped however, in the clasping arms of the champion.

Over the head belly to belly suplex.

The crowd erupted as Inmate tossed Token through the air like a bag of feathers, which was hardly how the self made number one contender landed, hitting the ground like a ton of bricks, Token lay motionless on the arena floor but it was the Inmate who was now garnering a second wind... he came up behind Token, yanking his shirt from his back with a loud fabric ripping tug, before wrapping it around his neck, and throttling him with it.

"Now what Sean!? You fucking fag... let this be a fucking lesson, you do not fuck with Pete Borst!" Inmate roared at the top of his voice.

"Newsflash fucker... you aren't B..."

Before Token culd finish, Inmate drilled him in the open wound across his forehead before releasing the shirt from around his neck and brutally kicking him in the ribs several times, he picked his friend become nemesis up, and grated his head mercilessly across the Asylum mesh, forcing the wound on his head to open up even more, before delivering yet another shocking blow.

He placed his foot in the back of Token's leg, forcing him down to his knees and in one flowing motion, swinging the Asylum door open.

"OOHHHHH!" The crowd exclaimed as the door connected solidly with Token Weed's face... jarring him back to the arena floor, Inmate yanked the motionless Token up by the hair... and threw him into the Asylum.

SNAP!

Not the snap however, but the sound of the Inmate cracking shut a steel chair and sliding it into the Asylum, he soon followed... clambering up and in, before picking up Token and perching him in a sitting position on the rim of the Asylum.

This truely would be, the final straw.

Inmate had intended to deliver a fuckhead to Token whilst he was sitting on the Asylum rim, the devastating blow would send him toppling to the outside and certain unconsciousness, as Inmate picked up the chair, he turned his back on Token Weed for a split second.

And a split second, was all it ever took in the Asylum.

Inmate turned and started to rush, but somehow... someway, Token Weed had struggled to a perching position on the rim... he launched himself, scissor kicked his legs and delivered an absolutely devastating Pump Kick to the Asylum Champion as he rushed forth.

"Holy Fuck! Holy Fuck!" The crowd exploded as the two collapsed to the canvas motionless, the referee quickly arrived on the scene, and began a 10 count that should have, and usually would have... been mandatory.

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The crowd exploded in sheer disbelief, because Token Weed was not the man who'd struggled to his feet...

Inmate, despite being viciously assaulted at the beginning of the night, despite being viciously beaten throughout the early stages of the match and despite being caught with a Token Weed Pump Kick of vast momentum... was up on his feet... staggering back and forth.

Token rose to his feet and shook his head in disbelief.

"If at first you don't succeed." Token snarled to himself, before rushing at the Inmate again, vaulting into the air and kicking his legs.

The crowd erupted with the hugest roar of the night, Inmate had just locked Token firmly into his finishing hold as he went for the deadly Pump Kick, Token roared in agony... his already jarred knee now being torqued in all manor of directions... he struggled in agony... as the official got down in his face and asked for the quit remark, Token however was having none of it... crawling painstakingly over to the mesh, he grabbed at it with his hands and proceeded to pull himself upward.

"Quit motherfucker... you ain't getting out that way!" Inmate roared... suddenly pacing back to the centre of the Asylum, tearing Token away from the mesh like a young child from his mother... Token scrambled in agony once more... nowhere to go, he refused to quit however... crawling agonizingly toward the Asylum door... and out of it!

The crowd, shocked and bermused... watched as Token Weed pulled himself out of the Asylum and to the arena floor, the Inmate however was like a pitbull that'd bitten to the bone, he simply wouldn't let ho, and was about to make matters much worse.

By elevating the hold, and kneeling on Token's hair.

Token was now completely immobile, his head was trapped at an awkward angle, his spine was bent over to the absolute maximum and his injured knee was being twisted and pulled out of position, as he breathed a final deep breath through a blood clogged throat, he mustered the final strength he needed.

Token Weed, for the first... and perhaps last time in the Asylum, accepted his fate... and accepted his defeat.

The crowd exploded with cheers as Token Weed tapped the arena floor submissively, prompting Inmate to finally release the hold and stumble against the Asylum for support, "I Disappear" blasted over the speakers as Tyler Burton hoisted the Asylum Championship up into the air to a rapturous responce from the attending crowd, he uttered the words "Tough mother fucker." as he staggered past the still downed Token Weed and made his way up the aisle.

Tough mother fucker wasn't even close.

As Token rose to his feet... somehow, the crowd gave him a rare appreciative round of applause, Token didn't look pleased... and as he made his way up the aisle for perhaps one last time, he looked back at the Asylum.

And told himself he'd return.

Joe Campbell's door burst open, and for the second time in the night... Token Weed burst in, he was different Token Weed however, bloody... beaten and staggering... fists however, still clenched.

"Listen Sean, you can fucking beat me to your hearts content you fuck... the fact is that you're gone, you're outta here... and at the end of the day Token, me and Tyler played you... you might not realise it yet you fuck, but we played you good." Joe said, holding his hands out defensively.

"Fuck you." Token snarled, cracking Joe across the jaw and sending him to the floor with a thud.

"That's all." Token snarled as he slowly started to limp out of the room "I just wanted to do that one last time before I go, pussy." Token sneered.

"Ahahaha." Joe shockingly coughed through the blood welling up in his mouth "Ahahahahah... fuck you Williams, fuck you... I'm glad you did that punk, I hope you enjoyed it, remember this night Sean... when you're cold and sleeping on the street, eating from trash cans and snuggling up to sewer rats... just remember this night, the night where Joe Campbell won." Joe chuckled insanely to himself.

"Oh?" Token turned, spitting a mouthful of blood at Joe "You won? You want to talk about winning and losing Joe? How about this for a loss... you, spending the next 70 years in prison for murder and robbery?" Token said with a sinister grin.

"You... you fucking what?" Joe spluttered.

"I'm talking about a corpse sitting in a freezer down in New York you fuck... a corpse that as of yet, hasn't been linked to a murderer, oh but it can Joe... it can and it might, see the only evidence they need is the thirty thousand big ones I gave to you last month, shame that you probably already spent half of it and spread the other half across your accounts, because every single bill is marked." Token smiled to himself, turning and exiting the room as a cold sweat broke down Joe Campbell's forehead.

"Now you tell me Joe, who's the loser now?" Token chuckled to himself as he exited Joe Campbell's office.

Perhaps not for the last time, afterall.