"WHO THE HELL IS THAT?" screamed Jess as she saw Father John Savage laying on the floor, after he was thrown throug the bathroom floor.

"Some idiot from the fed, come here" said JE.

Father John Savage was runnig arounf the room trwing to avoid the enraged JE, after he had soemhow gotten in the bathroom were JE had just finished from taking a shower.

"Thou wouldnt hurt a man from the cloth, would thou? HAAAAAA!" JE threw a phone at Father John Savage, that had just missed his head.

"Yeah, I would." responded JE, grabing Savage by his robe.

"Especially Father's who go into other peoples bathroom, while that person is taking a shower. God, no wonder the church is going down the pan."

"THOU SHALL NOT USE THE LORDS NAME IN VAINE. TAKE THIS EATHEN...."

"What the, HAAAAAAAA! Whats, wrong with you?" JE turned around and was sprayed by some sort of liquid.

"What is this?"

"Holy Water!"

"Holy water, this is just bottled water, you dumbass."

"You whant more, then have some...UUUUUUH!"

Jess had sneaked up from behind of Father John Savage and kicked in between the legs, hard, that sent him falling down.

"You Jezebell, Im going to...what the? HOW DID I GET HANDCUFED TO THE HEATER?"

"I did, while you werent looking" said JE with the key in his hand.

Savage tried to get himself free from the handcufs, but they were on to tight.

"Please, let me go. Im sorry, I didnt mean for this to...what are you doing now? Who are you calling?" asked Savage

"The police, be quiet."

"The cops? Please dont, do you know how many bowls I smoked before coming here?"

"Thats, not my problem...Hello, police? Yes, some nutjob just broke into my hotel room, Ive been able to subdue him for the time being. No, I dont know the man. He seems to be on drugs or something. Yes, Im at the Bellview Hotel, room Nº 376. Ok, ill wait. (JE hangs up) 20 minutes."

22 minutes later...

The police arrive at the hotel room, and see the room a complete mess. JE explains every thing that happened to the offciers. They uncuff Savage from the heater, only to cuff him to himself.

"Are you going to press charges sir?" said one of the officers.

"Nah, he only needs some time alone. Better do a drugs test thow." said JE.

"Sure thing sir. Come on you, were going to the station."

The officers leave with Father John Savage and take him away.

"Shame, that was the only pair of handcufs we had." said Jess, looking at JE with a grin on her face.


About 15 minutes after the police leave, JE & Jess leave the appartment to make there way to Kroakers Pub for JE's meeting with Kermit, to see what he has lined up for JE. They got on JE's bike, and speed of. As they were making their way to Kroakers Pub, JE had this strange feeling that someone was following him.

10 minutes later...

They arrive at Kroaker Pub and walk in from the front. JE walks in to se all the usual suspects: Gonzo, Rowlf, Fozzy, eaven some mambers from Electric Mayhem, the same group that had kidnaped JE and Roosevelt Dimes a few months ago. There was an uneasy tenstion in the room, as most of the MUPPETS didnt accept JE joining there group. Kermit was sitting down in a table in the centre of the room, reading the newspaper, when he realised who had walkd in.

"Right on time my friend." said Kermit "Can I get you a drink?"

"Beer thanks."

"And for you Jess?"

"No thanks. Im not thristy."

"Ok, Gonz, get him a beer."

"Sure thing boss." said Gonzo.

"Now, we have a lot to talk about."

To be continued...

The distinctive glow of orange neon rythmically increases and decreases in intensity along the crack. It is not bright enough to shed some light on MacAvoy's predicament. It is merely strong enough to define where the the door of the trunk ends and the body of this S-Class Merc begins. By the frequency of the socillations, the care is going at some speed too, but you could never tell by the smooth ride and quiet motor that define quality German engineering. In this orange tinged darkness, MacAvoy is left alone with his thoughts.

The silence is truely deafening.

The rocking his body, engaged enthusiastically in the feotal position and the confident purr of the engine are not enough to engage him in a state of calm however. No. Most definately not.

Icon. It was just supposed to be a gimmick. It was only supposed to be a way for him to prick the attention of the big fish. He knew that in this was a business built on attention. You where only as big as the splash you made in that metaphorical pond. He could handle big fish. He didn't know tiger sharks resided here. Vicious little buggers, tiger sharks. Embryotic tiger sharks kill each other in the womb. Only the strongest is born. MacAvoy could just picture TI strangling the other infants with his umbilical cord. A personal death. Face to face.

Fingers. Entwined. That smell. That smell of musk. That smell of fear.

Snap out of it, you sorry little son of a bitch. He scratched and and scratched and scratched at his arm. ECF. He wanted to rip those stupid letters out. He felt the freshly healed skin, start to peel away again, but only when the nails sank deep into the flesh. The receptors in his arm fired small electrical jolts to the neurons in his brain. As more and more and yet more neutrons fired up, a wave of pain passed over him. He didn't want to think thoughts.No. no. Just lie and rock and listen to the silence and peel away and rip the past from his arms.

Tap. Tap. Tap. That kind of dark when your eyes have adjusted. A silohette of black darker than the darkness. Sharon. Who's Sharon. Don't move. Don't make a sound. He'll hear you.

MacAvoy can't see the blood, but he can feel its crimson crawling slowly, wetly down his arm. He sniffs. He brathes in heavily the rich dirty metallic smell. Offactoral memories are triggered. His back crashing of the mat of that training ring. The theory, as Acid seemed to explain it, was that if he ate ring enough times, if his spine impacted with great enough frequency, no message would ever get to those troublesome little neurons and eventually he would be so desensitized, so numb, he would feel nothing at all. What MacAvoy had some to realise was that it was never for his benefit, that he needed that pain, that he could uses that pain and channel that pain and feed of that pain. Acid wasn't trying to better him. The bitter old fucker was merely beating down a man who shared the same face as Seth. He was trying to defeat a Nemesis, just trying to settle an old score any way he could. MacAvoy hadn't thought about that day in years. A little bit of the ediface in his head know as the Titanium Insomniac that he had built up started to crumble around the edges. The fear was there, though the memory of why he still tried to repress......

I didn't do it...I swear I didn't...I didn't do it...I swear I didn't...I didn't do it...I swear I didn't...The stillness of the body...the frantic darting of the eyes....a porcelin face....a prison you can't escape from...... ...... ..... ... .. .. . . .

Yes. The fear was there. A big block of black in his brain. But now the edges where tinged blue. Tinged with pity for a man so numb. It wasn't the accumulated numbness that Acid had talked about. This kind of damage was caused by one short sharp blow. But what kind of blow could do that kind of damage..........


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


From the view of a fellow driver, the course the Merecedes took through the lanes of the highway verged on reckless, but the Insomniac's precision in driving matched his instinctive control in in regards to all of his affairs. Well to a vast majority of them. The anger wasn't a hot visceral thing, but alow controlled, driected force like molten lava flowing just beneath the surface of some vulcan wasteland. Perhaps, perhaps, the smallest amount of relish at such emotions. No. I very much doubt it. Already he was planning how the dissection of an icon would be best realised.

Both machines came careening down the on ramp, the Cadillac seperating momentarily from the black BMW before smahing back into its prey with the horrific sound of ripping metal. Even the excitement of this spectacle on human level didn't cause TI to give it much attention until he recognised one of the cars to be a very familar BMW. He slowly lowered his foot, already resting on the accelerator, incrementaly nearing the pedal to the proverbial metal, and his velocity increased. He saw what was going to happen even before it happened. Hardy was gonna make a go for the off-ramp. Intelligent. But the Cadillac matched his desperate maneoveur. TI went to follow the pair but a large 18-wheeler also decided to take the off-ramp, briefly slowing down TI's progress. He climbed onto theverge of the road to pass the truck but the two care had already gone out of sight of him. He sped along the road after them.

The rubber in the tires bit the road hard as TI braked. It was not a sight he cared to revisit. Smoke rises from one of the tires. He sits there, letting the scene wash over him. TI and Lupelli made eye contact from a distance. He made no move to restrain him. Punishment for men like Anthony Lupelli could only be metted out by those upon whom the transgression had been commited. Only by Hardy.

He knew what kind of punishment people like that deserved. Only he knew. Well, that was what he had thought up until tonight..........


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


The trunk lifted open. MacAvoy was dazed. He was bleeding from the arm. Lupelli forcefully grabbed him from the trunk and threw him into the passenger seat of the Cadillac. Lupelli pulled away at speed as he didn't trust TI, even if the man for some reason decided not to attack. MacAvoy faded back into conciousness.

MacAvoy - I need to talk to your shrink woman. Need to.........need to.........remember something.

Lupelli - What?

MacAvoy just sat in silence as they disappeared into the night.

The tension in the room was almost overwhelming. Two former enemies, sitting down for a meeting that might progress into a lucrative alliance, was cause for concern amongst the MUPPETS. Their boss had changed. Ever since joining this TCW, he has acted more careless and out of his normal methods. Had this not been part of TCW, JE would have been dead by now. His body wrapped up with chains and lead, this punk would have dumped into the lake and drowned. That's what happened to those who dis-respected Kermit. And JE did just that. He kidnapped Piggy, Statler, Waldorf, and beat the ever living crap out of Animal. Nobody in the room forgot that. But they trusted their Boss and hoped he was doing the right thing.

"Glad you could make it JE. Im sure you wouldn't mind if we skipped the formalities, as we do have pressing matters." Kermir spoke.

JE nodded.

"Fine by me. So, what are the details of your offer?"

"You've decided to take me up on it I see. Good, Im glad we..."

JE cut him off

"I havent' decided anything. At least, not until I hear what the offer is."

Kermit shrugged.

"Fair enough. And smart too. Never get yourself into a deal without knowing all the options my Pop used to say. Okay, he it is. Not only to I want to partner with you in the TCW, but I also want to hire you, both offically and unoffically if you catch my drift?"

JE nodded in understanding.

"Good. Your legal position will be Co-Manager of Research and Devolpment in Henson Security Technology."

"But I don't know a lot of Security Tech. How the hell can I do that job?"

"You don't have to." Kermit winked "Just show up a few days out of the week for a couple of hours. Dr. Honeydew will do all the work, you just have a title and a paycheck. The appearances confirm for the employees that you do in fact work there, however, you can do what you want in your office. Surf the net, talk on the phone, watch a movie, I don't care really. Hell, you could actually learn your job and get a bit more hands on. It doesn't matter to me. Just make your appearances."

"Sounds good so far. What's the catch?"

"The catch as you put it, is this. You real job for me will be running the Fraggles, my dealers thru out the city. You are to collect payment, keep them in line, and deal with those who deal on my streets without my permission. Just a few rules. #1 - Never let your dealers sell to kids or anybody with kids. I may be a mean bastard at times, but I do not condone getting kids involved. If some single loser wants to shoot up every night, I don't give a fuck. But if he's got a kid that depends on him, that's a big no. Rule #2 - No late payments. You get your money when it's due, and I get my money when it's due. No exceptions. And rule #3 - No heat from the cops should ever fall on me. In fact, if you are as clever and crafty as you have shown me, no heat should fall on you either. Sound good?"

JE was silent. He looked at Jess who conveid one thought thru her eyes. "Is it worth it?" JE seemed to think so, for his next words, sealed the deal.

"It's good. We have a deal."

"Excellent" Kermit beamed. " I am glad to hear it. Our partnership in TCW and in business will be lucrative I am sure."

He rose to shake JE's hand, as his men looked on nervously.

"Now, on to the little details. You answer to me and only me. Understood?"

JE opened his mouth to protest, but Kermit waved him off.

"Only in business. In the TCW, we are a team with equal say. And I will not get involved into your personal life. But in our business, I am the boss. Just do your job and keep your nose clean, and their are no problems."

"Okay." Je said, but still not happy with having to answer to anybody.

"Should you need any assistance in your role, you can call on my resources of course. However, anything involing Gonz, Foz, or the Mayhem, goes thru me first."

Again, JE nodded.

"Here, take this." Kermit said handing JE a heavy envolpe, which JE took slowly.

"What is it?"

"Consider it a bonus and an advance." Kermit replied, smiling. "Ten Grand start up cash and a key to a fully furnished high condo a few blocks from Henson Towers. I treat my partners right."

JE smiled a litte inside. If Kermit doesn't turn on him, which he still feared would happen, this could be a good thing.

Kermit reached into his desk and pulled out a folder, filled with papers.

"And here. This is all the information we could find on Father Savage and Jack Frost. Study it and report back to me with any ideas you have about dealing with these guys."

"Savage has been dealt with already."

"Oh?" Kermit said. "Check this out boys. FIrst day on the job, and JE has already dealt with an oppenent. I like this kid I really do."

The other MUPPETs in the room looked at JE with a bit of shock and anger.

"So JE, what happened?"

"Prick broke into my hotel room and starting preaching to me while I was in the shower. We tussled for a bit. The cops came, and dragged him off. He shouldn't be a problem."

Kermit laughed.

"No offense JE, you did good, you really did. But Savage won't stay in jail. I tried that on you remember?"

JE was silent while he tought back to his time in the slammer. Then, he couldn't help himself, he laughed too.

"Yea, well, it's a start. I will look this over" he said waving the folder. "I will look it over tonight and see what I can come up with. Are we done?"

"Yes, we are done"

Kermit rose and shook JE's hand again.

"Welcome to the winning team JE."

"As long as we do win Kermit."

With that, he left the room, Jess following behind.

Shadow drops the microphone and walks to the back.

Shadow: Gentelmen I'll meet you a little later in the locker room. I need to check on something.

Highone rolls his neck cracking loudly.

Highone: So you going to go back out there and beat that bitch ass traitor's ass?

Hardy: THIS IS BULL SHIT!

Hardy lifts a sound technician off the ground and shoves him into a wall, the rest of the crew scatters as Hardy growls at them.

Hardy: What the FUCK Shadow?

Shadow adjust his mask

Shadow: I'm sorry David but I don't know much. I'll explain what I can to you later I promise.

Hardy: Explain to me why your no OUR feet are not up that piece of shits ASS right now!

Hardy is enraged but for a change no one attempts to calm him. All of Infinity is too pissed to even consider calming down. They do not see much reason NOT to follow Hardy's idea of kicking the crap out of P.D.

DeSean: What the Hell? Let's do it right now.

Shadow: Mr. Jones has already been escorted from the building and into a car to his hotel. We will have to wait for his revenge.

The Titanium Insomniac has been very quiet to this point, next to Shadow he tends to be the most contemplative member of the group, if he's silent then he MUST have something on his mind. All the members of Infinity stare at the masked man.

Shadow: Look guys, (Shadow rarely spoke this way it catches his teammates by surprise) I'm sorry. I'll tell you what I know, but I have to take care of some things first, you are going to have to trust me.

T.I.: Cameron had secrets of his own, and until a few moments ago we were forced to trust him as well. I am not accustomed to trusting others as far as I can throw them, so although I'm quite content pretending that I'm one of those death mutes I WILL have words with you should your secrets stand in the way of my tasks.

Infinity walks to the locker room and Shadow stands alone in the hallway. It was a rough night he'd lost to Darkness, though knowing what he discovered it was a surprise he had even survived, worse though was the return of Cameron Jones. It was ahead of schedule and he HATED being taken out of schedule. Speaking of schedules Shadow had a meeting with a powerful woman that he had to make his way to.

...........

"Way to GO Fredo you RAT BASTARD!!!!!!"

*SPLOSH*

A cup of beer hits Cameron Jones in the head, Valerie Stern ducks avoiding the brunt of the splash but her silk shoes were likely still ruined.

Valerie Stern: Arrest that man.

A portion of security grabs the man while the rest continue to surround the former member of Infinity.

P.D. :Wow all this for me? I'm touched.

Valerie Stern: Do you see all of those angry people? Do you SEE what they are wearing?

P.D: Yeah they're wearing outdated shirts.

V.S: They are wearing INFINITY shirts, merchandise that has been turning a tidy profit for TCW. YOUR betrayal may have destroyed that cash cow.

P.D: Yeah well somethings are more important than money. I'm going to show that rich boy that REAL soon.

V.S: More important than profit? Please try to sound less like such a child Mr. Jones. Tell me Mr. Jones how will leaving Infinity's loving embrace help you take care of your family? I mean seeing as according to you what you make with us isn't enough.

P.D: A better question is what in the HELL is going to stop me from burning this entire federation to the ground if you mention my family again.

Two things Valerie Stern did not tolerate were threats things that cut into profit and Tapioca pudding. Tonight Cameron Jones was responsible for two of those things. She straightens her coat, removes ANY joy from her face and steps right into P.D's face before speaking.

V.S: Do not test me Mr. Jones.

P.D: I want Shadow. I beat him I get to choose any partner I want to fight for those titles. I lose? (Cameron swallows hard) I lose and I leave the belts alone, I walk away, and all of these closet Infinity fans pay big money to see me get my ass kicked. Would THAT interest you?

V.S: Why would I agree to that?

P.D: Well first off my name is still on the belt. But second you KNOW that despite them booing every night all these people LOVE Infinity. You sell them a WHOLE lot more than that New Hellfire Club, I've sold my best on my own so the way I see it he and I tear each other apart in that ring we damn near sell out the arena by ourselves.

V.S: Why do you want to fight him so badly. What did he do to you?

P.D: That's between me and him. You want real human emotion, you want personality well THIS is as personal as it gets!

With that Cameron Jones is shoved into a vehicle that speeds for the airport.

V.S: Very well Mr. Jones. You'll be flying commercial to Spain, coach in fact. I know it isn't quite what you are used to from your Infinity days but this is how the rest of us live.

......

Valerie Stern returns to her office so that she can pack up for her trip to the next show. Security has already left, before schedule, but not enough of a problem to fire someone over right now. At this point most all the wrestlers are already gone so she isn't expecting any visitors. This NHFC and Infinity thing could be good for business but ONLY if they did not insist on giving away so many fights for free. From her limited understanding of wrestling she knew that most wrestlers barely have the common sense to lace their boots, but she expected the CEO of the hugest retailer in the world S-Mart to HAVE more business sense. If rumors about how much the company was worth were even half true it may well be the most successful business entity in the world PERIOD. Shadow intrigued her, she had an opportunity to purchase S-Mart fifteen years ago but at the time the company was less than nothing, it was frankly hemorrhaging money, with no hope of turning a profit. Shadow walked in and turned all of that around in about two years time.

V.S: Sigh Where is that supposed assistant? I don't feel like lifting all of these files on my own.

Valerie bent over to lift a box of files.................


*Lights cut out*

Ms. Stern finds herself in a pitch black room.

V.S: I know I told them I wouldn't be out of this room for at least two hours. This is unacceptable.

Ms. Stern pulls out her phone and dials the front desk.

V.S: Front desk please? *static* Hello? *static* What is going on here? This is the best that Puerto Rico has to offer then I am less than impressed.

"The night is still young. I believe that you'll find the island offers many hidden treasures."

V.S: Who the?!?

"Do not be alarmed Ms. Stern, you know that if I meant you any harm, well, we would not be preparing to engage in a conversation.

V.S: Funny, you seem like the type of man that takes joy in talking to your prey before you snap it's neck. Or are those just baseless rumors?

Valerie stumbles and eventually finds her flashlight.

V.S: Shadow. So, Shadow would you mind?

Shadow: Oh the lights? (Shadow snaps his fingers and the room is dimly lit by a red light.)Please accept my apologies Ms. Stern, this trick with the lights is something of a calling card for me.

V.S: Yes, and your fans do tend to appreciate it.

Shadow: Fans? Ah yes I often forget that I have them. Yet I never forget that I have customers and THEY are what I want to talk to you about Ms. Stern.

V.S: Oh is this where you tell me how I should spend more time and money advertising Infinity? If so I REALLY have to get set to move this office.

Valerie turns around to find that every file is neatly stacked and loaded onto plletes ready to be moved.

V.S: So am I supposed to thank you?

Shadow: For the files? No, no need. You'll be to busy thanking me when I show you exactly how much TCW and S-Mart can make when we work together.

*CRASH*
The window is broken by a brick but not from the outside. A large bald man stands in the doorway holding a lead pipe.

P.D: I'm sorry, am I interrupting anything? Where is my family you bastard?

Shadow: Like I told you at the arena I was not aware that they were missing, however if you insist on having this conversation then I suggest that we take it outside.

With that Shadow runs and leaps out of the window that P.D. smashed. Stern and Jones stare at each other before running to the window and watch as Shadow stands on top of the lower roof just BARELY in jumping distance with his coat off, stripped down to his black tank top and a pair of spandex sports, holding a lead pipe of his own.

P.D: This man is going to make me sweat.

With that P.D closes his eyes breathes deep and prepares to jump.

Hammer & Jabbar turn around and see exactly who Hammer was expecting to see sooner rather than later, TCW World Champion Jason Dante & his better half, Selenia. So to sum things up, right now we've got an albino, a former succubus of hell, a middle aged Saudi Arabian, and an African-American all looking at each other. Welcome to TCW.

Hammer: We meet again.

Dante: Listen here, you sorry son of a bit-

Hammer: No, you listen, Jason.

Dante: Don't call me th-

Hammer: Damn, what is it with nobody wanting to be called by their first name these days? That's not important. Remember Philadelphia, Jason?

Dante: Death by Degrees.

Hammer: That's right. I remember it too, the way you had imprisoned in your nightclub with Darkness & Shaun Bisley. I remember when you finally let us out and I took Bisley to that man's *pointing at Jabbar* mosque. I remember exiting that man's mosque in a rage and being confronted by you.

Dante: One of my finest speeches.

Hammer: Then, there was Nashville. Badboy attacked me from behind and knocked me out for almost an hour. Why? Just because we were on opposing teams? No, there was something deeper behind that...somebody planted a seed in his head that told him to take me out. There was only one man on that team that could have been smart enough to do something like that. You don't think I know what I'm dealing with here, Jason? You don't think I've asked Shadow for every bit of information he has on file about you?

Dante: Do you have a point or are you just stalling in order to keep me from bashing your brains in and to keep my Selenia from being the second woman to kick his ass?

Dante's patience is wearing thin, and it is shown by the deep breathing he does while waiting for Hammer's response. Hammer winks at Jabbar and turns back towards Dante.

Hammer: When you confronted me outside his mosque, you insisted that I wanted something that wasn't mine. You told me that the conflict of vice and virtue shouldn't depend on the rules of others. You said that it should be decided by our own wishes. My soul was crying out for what it wanted, right? Well, looks like the shoe's on the other foot now, Jason. Because I know how you operate and I know what you believe in...and you sir, are no hero.

At times like this, the fact that Dante & Selenia can communicate to each other through their thoughts really comes in handy. That way, Hammer can't hear Selenia begging Dante to calm down while Dante says that he is trying to, but this man is pushing his buttons...

Hammer: You know it. I know it. Everybody knows it, Jason. Why don't you just be the man we all know you are, instead of trying to be some kind of hero that you aren't cut out to be? Hey man, I've been there! I've tried to walk down that path! Some of us just weren't meant to be good, know what I mean?

Dante: Don't you try to compare yourself to me, Hammer.

Hammer: Oh, I'd never make that mistake, Jason. You are the TCW World Heavyweight Champion. You are the man who won the Road to Glory battle royal. You are the man who pinned Darkness's shoulders to the mat...and even if the fans still think he's tougher than you, I know better!

Dante: What are you trying to say? Spit it out already before I beat it out of you!

Hammer: I know what's really bothering you right now, Jason...it's not so much the person that's right in front of you as it is the person that for once isn't by your side.

Dante pushes Hammer into the side of his car. Feeling the pain slice through his rumored to be injured back, Hammer winces more noticeably than even Dante expected. Dante grabs Hammer by the collar of his dress shirt and gets...as they say on the streets...all up in his grill.

Dante: You took him out, Hammer. And if you think that I'm going to be the next one in your path of destruction, you've got another thing coming. You might have gotten to Codazer, but it's going to take a lot more than that to do me in. You think you know what you're dealing with? Think again!

Dante releases Hammer from his grip and walks back in the direction from which he came. Selenia follows him while Jabbar walks over to check on his student.

Jabbar: Are you ok?

Hammer brushes himself off and begins placing the black turban which had been knocked off during the brief struggle back on his head.

Hammer: Things couldn't be better, Jabbar. Did you see that? My friend, we've got Jason Dante right where we need him to be right now. The plan is in place. And by the time Retribution ends we'll be one step closer to our goal.

A lot has changed since that day in Philadelphia that Mutaaz Tareef alluded to. Back then, Jason Dante was just another gothic heel to most fans...sure, he'd won some secondary titles and made a little noise, but he was nothing compared to what he is today. Events that have transpired since then have made Dante what he is today, the man recognized as the best wrestler in the world and the founder of the New Hellfire Club.

And that's just on the surface.

But Dante is not the only man who has changed since then. With the guidance of the Saudi Arabian whose mosque provided a backdrop for Hammer & Dante's first major altercation, Mutaaz Tareef has become even more devout in his beliefs. He has joined up with Infinity, and has placed the well being of the group over his own personal goals, which is well in line with his new found beliefs. Heck, Infinity isn't the only group who's well being he values...one of his motivations for injuring Acolyte was for what he did to Ghetto Grass, his employees as of Revolucion. He has also learned that it's a whole heck of a lot easier to psych out your opponents with mind games than it is to keep beating them up. This really comes in handy for him since he injured his back in a TLC match with Alexxx teaming against Shadow & PD...he has only wrestled once since then and has taken several weeks off to rest up.

Now, the Hammer is back with a vengeance. He took out the Acolyte at Revolucion, and now his sights are set on Jason Dante. If Hammer can weaken Dante now, it will make the champion more vulnerable for upcoming challengers...Hammer hopes that the first one will be his friend DeSean Blackwell after winning the Majestic Cup. Should the Technician get screwed, there's always Highone, Hardy, Shadow, the Insomniac...or perhaps even Hammer himself.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves.

-----

Somewhere on the Atlantic Ocean, a boat carrying the Ghetto Grass kids and their newly re-named Praise Allah X-Press heads towards a Spanish port. That was the most economically feasible way for Hammer to get his employees to Spain. They should show up before Retribution, so we might hear from them sometime this week.

-----

Meanwhile, Dante & Selenia have returned to their hotel room. Dante chooses to remain silent, knowing that the last thing he needs to do right now is show his anger.

It has been said that the two things that motivate Jason Dante these days are his love for Selenia and his desire to resist succumbing to his demonic side. Of course, Hammer doesn't know anything about this, but his attempts at getting at Jason Dante could be wearing at the second thing motivating our champion.

What am I trying to say?

Well, if Hammer succeeds in his goal of getting the "real" Jason Dante to make his reappearance...he might be in a LOT more trouble than he thinks he will be.

A LOT.

We better hope for his sake that he fails.

The whole faction thing wasn't exactly Strikmore's bag, but he had to admit that it was a pretty cool ring DeSean was sporting.

"I have to admit, that's a pretty cool ring you're sporting..."

DeSean glanced over the sandwich that was hovering at his mouth and looked at the ruby-encrusted sovereign ring on his finger.

"Uh...thanks..."

Did that sound gay? Matt didn't want to make another enemy, least of all one that was buddies with Titanium Insomniac. It was just a cool ring, that's all.

"Titanium Insomniac never made much of his, I guess I never noticed it," Matt continued, trying to make his interest in the object sound casual as opposed to homoerotic.

"Yeah, well, that's TI for you, I guess," DeSean said before taking a bite of the sandwich finally.

The setting was pretty low-key: just some ordinary Subway in the heart of Madrid. The curse of globalisation meant that the Americans never felt far from home whereas the locals were more of the mind that they could never escape their tourists. There was a lot of buzz in the city for the show, of course - American wrestling, like American fast food, was always popular with a certain class of people whatever part of the world you were in.

Strikmore and Blackwell were fortunate in that they happened to be two of the most normal looking members of the roster. No one paid any attention to them and their conversation.

Strikmore leaned in, "Are you saying he isn't much of a team player?"

"Mh phn hgfpny ghpnhbne ghnfngh aghn hneh..."

"Pardon?"

DeSean swallowed the mouth full of bread and cheese, "I said; ‘I'm not really comfortable talking about this'."

"Right, ok, sorry, yeah..."

A long silence stretched between them. Though Strikmore was pretty keen to not piss off his opponents and turn what should be merely a professional rivalry into a personal one, even he had to admit that it was probably going to be a little difficult for him and The Technician to build bridges. The fact was that he had beaten David Hardy and Titanium Insomniac; two of DeSean's close allies, despite his curious comments about the latter.

"I have to admit, it's going to be..."

DeSean was looking at him and Matt stopped talking abruptly. "Sorry...uh...I wasn't talking to you..."

The youngest man on the roster blinked several times and glanced from side-to-side. Even though the restaurant was full, no one was paying them the slightest bit of attention. They could have been in an empty room.

"This isn't going well, I...dammit..." Matt cut of his words mid-sentence again.

"Are you talking to...yourself?"

Matt sighed and poked at his own half-eaten sandwich feeling deflated. He could beat the greatest champion of all time, but no amount of victories over legends seemed to make him immune to making an ass of himself in public.

"Okay, it's just a thing, alright? I talk to myself - it helps me focus."

"On your matches?"

"No..." Matt waved his hand around and looked into the middle-distance, "I just have to kind of keep my wits about me. Sometimes things...go wrong..." he ended weakly.

"Right."

He thinks I'm a freak, Matt thought. He bit his tongue to stop himself saying that out loud and looked down at his meal with a glum expression. How do you debut in a promotion like he did, beating everyone including the likes of Hardy and the Insomniac and getting to the final of a tournament involving the whole roster and still manage to feel like a total idiot in front of a virtual stranger?

He glanced at DeSean and saw him fiddling with his Infinity ring. Anything to keep the conversation going and hopefully shift the attention off his neuroses...

"Something up with your ring, DeSean?"

"Shadow made some modifications to it or something, I dunno..."

Matt was intrigued. "Modifications? He get the size wrong or something...?"

"No, I mean..."

DeSean trailed off as he turned around at the sound of sirens and watched several police vehicles race by the window of the Subway. "What the hell?"

"We have to go."

DeSean looked at Strikmore with a frown of confusion. "We do?"

"Come!"

Strikmore stood up and placed his hands on his hips. Now people were paying attention to them.

A sudden prisoner in his own mind, Matt could only groan internally as the foolish behaviour he had already subjected DeSean to paled into insignificance next to his capering through the door while making odd ‘whoosh' noises. This, he reflected - now silently - was what happened when he stopped talking to himself.

Intrigued, confused, and still kind of hungry, DeSean followed his strange opponent.

* * *

"Darkness."

The former champion turned. He had been aware that he was being followed and did not give the individual shadowing him the satisfaction of surprise.

"Drakus, I assume..." Darkness greeted his future opponent.

Drakus stepped from the shadows and smiled an odd smile. "Who else?"

Darkness looked the man up and down, assessing him. He was not overly tall, but he was extremely well-built; a powerhouse in fact. He was injured though; Darkness's warrior's experience told him that well enough simply from the way the bald man moved.

"You are following me. Why?"

"The way I see it, you and I got a score to settle."

Darkness arched an eyebrow. "You are mistaken; we have never met and I bear you no ill-will. Leave before you get hurt."

"I guess maybe Dante never told you about our history then, huh?" Drakus smirked in reply.

"Jason generally doesn't bother telling me much about his past. We are both of the opinion that it is better left forgotten thanks to its often unsavoury nature."

"I was thinking you might say something like that," Drakus lied, "So I thought maybe it might be better if you take a look at what else you and I got in common besides some mutual pals."

He tossed the envelope he had been holding to Darkness. The former Slayer caught it, a confused expression on his face. He could think of nothing that he had in common with a man like Drakus.

He opened the envelope and took out the photograph it contained.

Silence.

Gradually Drakus's smirk faded as Darkness continued to say nothing, simply staring down at the picture. Finally, steel-grey eyes now turned ice-cold like frozen fire looked in the big man's direction.

"Do you..." Darkness began, fury straining his voice, "Do you...know who this is...?"

"I..."

"DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS?!"

The force of the bellow actually staggered Drakus.

He could not know what he had just handed Darkness. He could not know that, for the first time in over three years, Darkness now beheld an image of his beloved Anna, the woman who had saved him and who he had allowed to die at the hands of Lucifer. Darkness had redeemed himself for those actions by being the very man who carried his prone form to the feet of the Prince of Darkness, but the wounds inflicted on him by those events were still raw...unhealed...

Darkness had never looked beneath the hasty bandages he had plastered over the parts of him from which Anna had been ripped. For a time, he had subsisted in a kind of shadow-life until he had found out that his infant daughter still lived. That had been a way of ignoring the pain, the desolation in his soul, in favour of a new hope.

He had tried to forget his wife.

But the picture Drakus had handed him was far more than just a photo of a dead woman. The image was over twenty years old, taken perhaps the day after his birthday in 1985, he imagined. He had indeed inflicted those cuts and bruises on her beautiful face, but after that...after that he had become who he was now...

This picture dated back to the very day that he had been cleansed by the storm and reborn anew. When this was taken, he had become Darkness for the first time.

Drakus had just cut him to the very core and undone decades of discipline and years of denial.

There was no other possible resolution to this encounter.

In one swift movement, Darkness shrugged off his jacket and let his weapons fall to the floor. Drakus was still a man and Darkness would fight him as a man.

Make him pay as a man.

With a grin, Drakus clenched his own fists as Darkness fell into a low crouch. Quicker than thought, Darkness's body spun like a top, his legs flying out in quick succession, striking Drakus several times and driving him back towards the wall of the alleyway in which they stood.

The larger man howled in anger and pain. He swung for Darkness, but the former champion dodged easily, striking Drakus on the back of the neck with a punch that threw him into another whirl with its momentum.

As Drakus struggled to follow Darkness, he received a kick to the abdomen and the enraged NHFC member proceeded to leap at the wall, bouncing off it with expert precision and returning with a flying knee to Drakus's face.

Darkness bounded back to his feet, only to see Drakus rising slowly, holding a bloody nose.

"You're quick..." he spat.

"I'm the quickest," Darkness snarled, launching himself at Drakus again.

This time Drakus was ready for him, catching him in mid-leap. The huge man spun around, compressing Darkness with his muscular arms and heaving him through the air and onto the concrete floor. Caught off-guard, Darkness landed badly, but was still up to his feet in seconds.

Drakus roared and charged his foe, but Darkness neatly side-stepped, causing Drakus to almost run into a wall. However, the big man managed to stop himself and plant a hand against the brickwork, pushing himself back and into Darkness with a massive elbow. Darkness staggered back, but avoided another grab from Drakus with a quick kick.

Drakus grimaced and reached behind him, grabbing a full trashcan and smashing it over Darkness's head before he could react. He followed it up with a head-butt, his iron-hard skull smashing into the bridge of Darkness's nose and bloodying it instantly.

Darkness struck back with a kick to the ribs, but Drakus seemed unfazed by it. He snarled in anger and reached under Darkness's arm, heaving the smaller man off his feet and hurling him right into the opposite wall.

Drakus was angrier than he'd ever been. Years of pent-up frustration were suddenly bubbling to the surface. He thought of what Dante had stolen from him and how now, most of all, it resonated the most. They had once been partners and Dante had sold him out, destroyed him and left him for dead in order to advance his own career. Drakus might have been the human equivalent of the proverbial blunt instrument, but even he could see that Dante joining the original Hellfire Club was the event that had now led to this new incarnation of the group and, by extension, his phenomenal success.

Dante was the world champion. Drakus was not. Dante had a stunningly beautiful woman on his arm. Drakus slept alone. Dante had wealth beyond imagining. Drakus had the scraps his lawyer threw him.

It all came back to that one moment when Jason Dante had betrayed him. It could have been either one of them, but his partner had sold him down the river in exchange for glory.

Dante had taken everything from him. Now Drakus would begin to do the same.

Darkness slowly picked himself up, but Drakus was ready again. He lifted up Darkness by the throat and slammed him down onto the concrete, enjoying the feeling of flesh breaking in his hands. Darkness gritted his teeth and threw out a kick, catching Drakus in the face and forcing him to release his grip.

Drakus stumbled backwards and Darkness kipped-up to his feet, driving one fist and then another into his opponent's gut before performing a back flip kick that sent Drakus sprawling.

As the two men stood off, both heard the sound of distant sirens approaching.

"This ends...here..." Darkness vowed.

Drakus nodded as he balled his fists and tensed the muscles in his bull-like neck.

* * *

"I know a shortcut!"

DeSean stared at Strikmore as the rookie headed for a fire escape that would take them up to roof-level. "You've never been to this city before," he protested.

"Have no fear!"

Strikmore began to climb the ladder and, now starting to feel a little guilty in case he was somehow the cause of this erratic behaviour, DeSean followed.

They reached the roof and Strikmore rushed off, heading for a way down again. Below them, DeSean could hear the police cars snaking through the winding streets of Madrid. Strikmore, he was certain, did not know a shortcut, but his choice of a route that led directly to wherever he was going via rooftops would indeed probably get them there before the cops.

DeSean was not sure why Strikmore would deem that an advantage.

Shaking his head and promising himself that he would watch Strikmore's back, DeSean followed him down a second ladder to a lower roof. The truth was that The Technician had no real reason to want to make a friend of Strikmore; this was the guy who had beaten two of his stable-mates.

But...they were two rookies who were both, as he saw it, a little out of their depth. Beating TI was the sort of thing DeSean had wanted to happen in his fourth match, but instead his path had led him to Infinity. He glanced down at the new ring Shadow had given him along with the now-destroyed tape. It looked identical to the old one, but Shadow had assured him it was some sort of prototype. Time would tell what the mysterious modifications were, he assumed.

Suddenly, he realised that Strikmore had stopped moving. He looked up and saw the young man hovering over the edge of the building they were currently on top of and looking down into the gap between the two blocks.

"Hey, what's down there?" he called.

Strikmore didn't answer, so DeSean walked over to have a look. Below them, in a narrow alley, were two figures in black.

"Hey...isn't that...?"

But before he could complete his thought, Strikmore was making his way down another fire escape.

* * *

Darkness crashed into the wall again. Masonry now littered the alley and both he and Drakus were bleeding from several gashes. The difference, however, was that Drakus was breathing heavily from exertion, where Darkness with his seemingly unlimited stamina was not showing any signs of fatigue.

Wearily, the tattooed Drakus pulled himself up and shook sweat from his brow. Ignoring the sirens that were getting closer by the minute, he charged his foe, smashing into him with enough force to snap a lesser man's spine. Darkness certainly felt the blow, but he was able to push back with his feet, flipping Drakus over onto his back and knocking the wind from him.

Darkness pounced, mounting Drakus and pummelling him with right and left hands. Drakus tried to fight back, but he had no strength to do so, and slowly the punches took their toll, bruising his face and opening cuts on his lip and brow.

Snarling, Darkness raised his right hand and prepared to strike one final blow...

"What's going on here, citizens?!"

Darkness turned to see Strikmore and...

He blinked.

He could see DeSean standing there next to his fellow rookie, but he couldn't feel him. His Slayer Sense wasn't picking up the young man at all, showing up nothing but empty space where he should have been.

Darkness's stomach twisted. The sensation of his most fundamental and powerful sense disagreeing with his eyes was profoundly uncomfortable, like seeing a person with blank skin instead of a face approaching you.

He almost retched, unable to reconcile what he was sensing.

It was all the opportunity Drakus needed. With a grunt, he wrapped his arms around Darkness and surged to his feet. Hooking one of his huge biceps under Darkness's arm, he began to spin on one heel, letting all his anger, all his frustration, all the hatred and pain of three years of suffering power his movements.

This was for the New Hellfire Club, and the old one.

This was for everyone who doubted him.

This was for everyone who rejected him.

This was for all the people who wrote him off and refused to acknowledge what he achieved.

But most of all, this was for Dante.

Dante who had betrayed him three years ago. Dante who had beaten him at the Road to Glory and overshadowed his incredible achievement with his victory. Dante who, with his every action, rubbed Drakus's face in the acrid stink of his singular lack of success in life.

With a thunderous cry, he released Darkness and ploughed him straight into a wall, watching with satisfaction as the impact shattered his enemy's body against the brickwork and caused him to slump to the floor in a twisted heap. Slowly, dark blood began to pool around the unconscious form of Darkness.

Thunder cracked overhead as Drakus raised his arms and laughed, the sudden rain soaking his clothing to his skin.

When the police finally arrived, he was gone, leaving only DeSean, Strikmore and the destroyed Darkness behind him.

* * *

You did well.

Pryce nodded at the voice in his head as Don Gonzalez attended the severely injured body of Drakus. He had not wanted his charge to extend himself as much as that, but he allowed that the results had been far more impressive than they could have desired.

He stands at the cusp of death, and yet trapped in life: exactly where we want him.

Pryce nodded again.

I thought this weapon would be nothing more than a distraction for him, but it has proved far more useful. Maybe I will allow him to succeed after all.

"Do you wish for him to take out the Earthborn?"

Drakus frowned in his semi-conscious state at the unfamiliar term, but Gonzalez didn't react as he rubbed the poultice into Drakus's new wounds.

The time may yet come for that. For now he must be healed. If the Antichrist recovers in time to take part in his match, I wish Drakus to be healthy enough to destroy him a second time.

"Very well."

Until then...keep a close eye on the other two, and make sure that Dante's treatments are ineffective in healing our mutual enemy.

"You have my word, master. The Nightwalker will not recover from his injuries."

* * *

Beep.

Dante sighed heavily as Selenia folded her arms and tried to keep her composure. As if the business with Hammer wasn't enough, they now had this to deal with. Acolyte, standing on crutches and wearing a neck-brace, looked as glum as everyone else in the room.

Beep.

"What's the verdict?" Dante asked, his voice hoarse.

The MediTech doctor looked up from his patient. "Broken ribs...a fractured skull...lots of internal haemorrhaging...honestly, I could reel out a list but it wouldn't tell you anything new."

Beep.

Dante nodded silently. In truth he could see for himself that his stable-mate was hurt as badly as he'd ever been.

"Will he be alright?" Acolyte asked after a while.

Beep.

The doctor shook his head. "I don't know. His physiology is unusual in a few ways I can't be sure of - his capacity for healing is virtually superhuman - but I can't say anything yet. We've patched him up as best we can, but there's no way of telling if it's done any good until he...well..."

Beep.

"Wakes up..." Dante finished for the doctor, bitterly.

The white-coated man nodded grimly. "If he comes out of this coma, he may recover. His brain tissue is still healthy...he may well be able to survive like this indefinitely..."

Beep.

Indefinitely. That was little comfort, Dante reflected. As he placed his arm around Selenia's body to comfort her he bowed his head sadly, watching as the heart-monitor counted out the slow and steady rhythm of Darkness's comatose body.

Beep.

Father Savage looked up at the ceiling. What a day it had been. First, he had somehow wound up in a bathroom with a naked man with anger issues. That man had thrown him through a door and then pulled a pair of handcuffs out of nowhere a la Houdini. Then, he had gone to jail only to immediately not be in jail again. Luckily, that meant that the police hadn't decided to press charges. Or... perhaps they had and he just didn't know about it, since he wasn't there. Either way, he wasn't in jail and that's the important thing. He was laying on the dirty floor of a bar though. He actually had to admire the craftsmanship of the ceiling. It was quite lovely.

Savage sat up. "Enough of this! This feud has been disjointed for far too long! It is time to bring everyone together so that we may interact in a legitimate feuding capacity!"

Savage looked up at the ceiling again and gave a wink to the Almighty. The Almighty naturally was winking back because Father Savage was the shizzle. Savage held out a hand, pointing at the door. "To Kermit's club!"

There was a big crack of thunder, followed by a flash of light and Savage was standing in the middle of Kermit's club. That's how good he was, seriously. Actually, it's more that I didn't feel like writing about his cab ride, which would have been really boring and not contributed to the feud one bit.

JE looked at the good father, standing in the middle of the room with wide and angry eyes. "I thought you were in jail!"

Savage shrugged.

"How did you get out!?" JE asked.

"I'unno," Savage said, shrugging again. He looked at the mob-looking fella sitting near JE. "I take it that you are Comet?"

"Kermit."

"Which is clearly what I said."

Kermit rolled his eyes, clearly not interested in playing this game. "Boys!"

Several large, yes strangely puppet-looking individuals came toward him. Savage rubbed his hands together. "I haven't had a good old fashioned lackey fight in ages! Have at thee!" he screamed, launching himself at one of the men.

Ten seconds later, Savage lay in a bloody pulp on the floor. He suddenly remembered why he hadn't gotten into a good old-fashioned lacky fight in ages. He had gotten the crap kicked out of him, much like this time. JE walked forward, his eyes reflecting the sinsiter smile etched onto his face.

"Looks like I get to beat you up again, don't I?" he said, all angry-like.

"Wait JV! That would hurt!" Savage's attempt at logic fell on deaf ears as his future opponent advanced.

Suddenly, Jack Frost, who had been running from his father this entire time for the sake of exposition, ran into the club. I'd say it was good timing, but I'll settle for a lazy plot device to get all four opponents in the same room. Frost pulled to a halt.

"What's going on here?" He looked down at the battered form of Savage. "How the heck did you get here? I thought I knocked you out!"

Savage shrugged. "I'unno."

"Well, well. What do we have here?" Kermit asked.

Frost rounded on the mob-muppet-guy. "Look, I don't like Savage at all. In fact, I can't stand him. I loathe him. I despise him. I hate him with the fire of a thousand suns. I--" he stopped, "--Actually, that about sums it up. All the same, he's my partner and if you two think you are going to make it a handicapped match, you've got another thing coming!"

Kermit stood up suddenly, as mob bosses are prone to doing, and moved forward. JE stood beside him. Savage felt hands muscling him roughly to his feet and looked over to see Frost lifting him.

"Thank you, Back Crust! Let's be the best of friends!"

Frost sighed and let Savage go. Savage fell over again, landing on his back with a thump. "Or not," he croaked, losing consciousness again.

Frost stared at his two opponents and the fairly large number of lackeys in the room. He cracked his knuckles and tightened his hands into fists. This was seriously getting intense. If there had been music playing, it would have been something stoic like "Eye of the Tiger" because that's what kind of mood was in the room. Frost looked at the bright side. He did need a work-out and a nice 10 on 1 fight would be a pretty good one.

Suddenly, Savage leaped through the air and tackled one of the lackeys to the floor, knocking him out instantly with his divine might. Frost looked at the floor where Savage had been literally a second ago and then at the man of the cloth.

"How the hell did you do that?"

Savage shrugged. "I'unno."

Everyone moved in at once. It was time for some serious ass-whooping to take place.



Fight!

Kermit leaned on his desk, watching the melee unfold. Savage and Frost, here, alone, in HIS club? What could be better than this? Here Kermit's boys can inflict some serious pain onto the competion, thereby weakening them before the big dance. This was certainly the best day he's had in awhile. As he surveyed the scene before him, he couldn't help but smile. JE and Savage were engaged in what could only be called a violent game of tag. Savage kept leaping and dancing around, avoiding JE punches. Then Savage would yell "REPENT!" and nail JE with a wicked hook. That REPENT shit got annoying after the second time. JE howled in rage and threw caution to wind, charging the prancing priest. Lo and Behold, he tackled the holy man to ground. Now JE was repeatedly smashing in the good father's face with his fists, all the time shouting "REPENT THIS!"

Frost was engaged in a test of strength with Fozzinini, and winning. Kermit was not pleased with this. His big bear of a Capo was notorious for his strenght, and now this brute is getting overpowered by Frost. Kermit signaled his remaining men to jump Frost. Cant have Fozzie's feelings hurt now can we. Four of the boys leapt onto Frost and tried to drag the man down. However, with a feet of amazing strenght, Jack flung the attackers from his back. He grabbed Foz in a bear hug, and slammed the big man into, and nearly thru, a wall. Kermit had enough. He signalled Gonzola to him.

"Yea?" the sly man whsipered.

Kermit smiled as he handed Gonzola a lead pipe.

"Bleeder practice." Kermit said, provoking a evil grin on Gonzola's face.

Gonzola walked slowly and with purpose to Frost, who's back was turned as he countinued to beat the hell out of Fozzinini. Gonzola raised the pipe above his head and brought it down hard on Frost's back. Frost let go of Fozzinini as he fell to his knees. Another blow, and another, and another landed on his back. Gonzola thought only of revenge as he brutally attacked the man who nearly killed him months earlier. He raised his pipe for a powerful blow to Frost's head, and brought it down with fire burning in his eyes. In a flash, a hand grabbed his wrist, and he stared wide eyed at Frost.

"You.....need.....another lesson..." Frost said slowly.

He yanked Gonzola in, and with a quick jerk, headbutted the thin man right in the temple. Gonzola fell limp to the ground, knocked out cold with on blow. He rose to his feet, breathing heavy, and glared right at Kermit.

"Cheap shot." he said.

Kermit shrugged.

"Figured he owed you for your cheap shot months back."

Kermit waved his hand towards Frost, and his boys again, assualted the intruder. Then, he heard a loud voice behind him.

"REPENT!"

Kermit turned, and his face met only the fist of Savage. Kermit reeled, and fell to the ground. Where the fuck did he come from. He glanced at JE, who was looking arounded with a confused look on his face.

"I thought you had him!" Kermit shouted to his partner.

"I did! He just disappeared!"

"No he didn't! He's right her...Oooo" Kermit was cut off by a foot in his stomach. All air left Kermit's lungs at the force of the blow to his stomach.

"You time is nigh Comet! REPENT!"

Another blow nailed Kermit in the head, causing stars to appear before his eyes. Kermit struggled to shake the cobwebs from his head, and looked up in time to see JE spear Savage over his fallen body. Kermit slowly rose and, once making double sure the JE had Savage under control, he turned to see how his boys were doing against Frost. His face turned right into Frost's, the man panting and bleeding, but still with enough energy to fight. Kermi could smell the stale beer on Frost's breath. Behind the angry man standing in front of him, Kermit could see Gonz, Fo, and four of his goons spread about the floor.

O fuck me...." Kermit thought.

(Much like Highone, DeadZone couldn't believe it. One night, he was watching a beautiful young girl by the name of Maritza belt out some old standards in her own little heavenly way....the next day.....she was dead. How shocking and, well, how very abrupt life could be sometimes...And how very unfair too...God let rapists and murderers and dictators live for years and years and years, and yet, an innocent, sweet, attractive girl like this wound up dead. It just didn't make any sense. What made it all the more send shivers up DeadZone's spine was that, not too long before he left the club, he had been talking to Maritza herself...)
************************************************************************
"You're gonna miss.....Aaaaaaaaaalll my loving......and baby, you're gonna miss....Aaaaaaaaaaal my kissing...."

(DeadZone, surprisingly, had never heard the current song Maritza and her band were performing, the very last song of their set, but damned if he honestly didn't care, as with this girl, she could sing "Happy Birthday" and make it sound like a gift from God. As those green eyes of hers sparkled in the spotlight, and her sandy blond hair cascaded slowly down her face, DeadZone felt a smile creep across his lips. It had been quite a while since a woman had brought a smile to his face (The last woman he has encountered, Freya, had done no such thing), so this was a very welcome put upon for him. Finishing his drink up and placing his glass aside as Maritza finished up this slow, sultry, alluring ballad, DeadZone couldn't help but, at this moment, thank God he was a man...which....in his mind, was what every guy in the room probably felt too.....Highone included.)

"But most of all baby......I know you're gonna miss me....loving.....Yooooooooooooooou...."

(With a wink of her eye, a bat of her eyelashes, and a smile, she had finished her song. As one, the audience in the room applauded and whistled, DeadZone especially making extra noise as Maritza smiled again, curtsied, and headed off stage with the jazz trio that had accompanied her that night. Without a bit of hesitation, DeadZone made good on the promise to himself to get up and meet this girl. Putting a bit of money on the table, he stood up and made his way towards the bar, where the band and the lovely little lady herself had sat themselves now, all four with a drink in their hands. (Though Maritza's drink was, not surprisingly, tamer looking then the drinks her fellow musicians had.) Moving closer to the lovely lady, DeadZone watched as she quickly, though with an air of grace about her, finished up her drink and placed it down. Ah, here was a good opportunity to break the ice. Slowly coming up to her, DeadZone cleared his throat, then spoke)

DeadZone: Say doll, how about I buy you another drink hmm?

(Maritza's eyes glanced up at DeadZone, and she let out a giggle. Not one of "What a loser this guy is", but more of a "Awww, how cute is this?" giggle. One of the musicians with her eyed DeadZone suspiciously, though, with a wave of her hand and a look as if to say "It's all right..." he nodded and headed off with the two other men as DeadZone smiled and motioned the bar tender over.)

DeadZone: Give the little lady whatever drink she had before....on me....

Bartender: Sure thing Senor....

(With that, the Bartender fixed the drink as Maritza finally spoke up)

Maritza: (The hint of a Spanish accent in her voice) It's very sweet of you to buy me a drink....You're the first guy in a while who's actually done that....

DeadZone: What can I say? I guess I'm that type of guy.... (He motions to the chair next to her) May I?

Maritza: You most certainly may....

(Grinning at her accepting his sitting next to her, DeadZone pulled up a chair and motioned for his own drink as the bartender handed Maritza her second drink)

DeadZone: Whiskey please....on the rocks....

(The bartender nodded and prepared the drink as Maritza's heavenly voice called out again)

Maritza: And what may I ask is your name Sir?

DeadZone: My name? Well....My name is Dea..... (A pause, he caught himself. It'd be kinda stupid to go by his ring name, which hardly made sense) Stephen.....Stephen Hawthorne....

Maritza: (Smiles) I'm Maritza....Maritza Gonzales....

DeadZone: (Smiles) Maritza.....Pretty name for a pretty gal...

Maritza: (Giggles sweetly) You flatter me Mr. Hawthorne...

DeadZone: Hey....call me Stephen....

Maritza: Well then Stephen..... (DeadZone is handed his glass of whiskey, she raises her glass slowly) Cheers....

DeadZone: Oh....er....cheers..... (He clinks his glass to hers)

Maritza: Well Stephen....What brings you over to little old me hmmm?

DeadZone: It's your singing kiddo! I've never heard anything like it! So pure! So flawless!

Maritza: (Smiles) Oh come now....I'm not *that* good...

DeadZone: I beg to differ...

Maritza: (Smiles again) I learned to sing from my father....he was a big time singer many years ago....he started teaching me when I was 5....

DeadZone: (Smiles back) Well....it's quite obvious he taught you well...

Maritza: (Giggles again and waves this off) You, Stephen, are quite the charmer I must say....

(Before DeadZone could say any further, a voice called out from off-screen)

Male Voice: (V.O) Maritza....Come on, we've got to go....

Maritza: Ah....my cousin Tomas is calling me.....

DeadZone: (A bit disappointed) Oh.....

Maritza: (She smiles and gently pats his cheek with her hand) If you're still around here....I'll be back tomorrow at 9....After my show....we can talk more.....ok?

(DeadZone smiled and nodded as Maritza smiled back, winked at him, and walked off, almost as if she was floating angelically, towards one of the bandsman, presumably Tomas, the cousin, and the two others with him. "We can talk more...ok?" That would prove to be the last words he would ever hear uttered from her....at least while she was alive.)
************************************************************************
(The Manares River had somehow beckoned to DeadZone too that morning, as it was for Highone. Knowing what the news report had said, that this lovely young singer was found there, DeadZone, an instinct in his heart telling him to do so, had left his hotel room that morning and headed out to the crime scene to get a better look. Once there, he was treated to the normal crime scene functions...A taped off area, words in Spanish warning people not to Trespass. Spanish police circling about the area, communicating to one another in their own language, that one black body bag laying by the shore of the river, no doubt holding that body of that angel, that wonderful singer in it....and one more particular sight that caught DeadZone's eye. Yes, it wasn't anything of normal procedure....it was more like a future opponent...Highone to be exact. Yes, there he stood, about 10 or so feet away from the crime area, a look of shock on his face and his head shaking as if to say "What is this world coming too?" Slowly, more out of curiosity then out of wanting to confront him, DeadZone walked over until he was side by side with Highone.)

DeadZone: A shame huh?

Highone: A damned shame....

DeadZone: And so young too eh?

Highone: Yeah.....And too think I saw her perform just a few hours ago last night....

DeadZone: (More to himself, and a bit saddened as well) And to think I spoke to that wonderful dame just hours ago....

Highone: (His ears perked to this, suddenly interested) Spoke you say?

DeadZone: (Sighs) Yeah....sweetest thing you would have ever encountered....She could have probably melted even the coldest heart....but we'll never know now...

Highone: Now this could be very interesting......DeadZone is it?

DeadZone: (Nods) That's me.....And you're.....Highone yeah? We're in the same federation you know...

Highone: That I do, That I do.......

DeadZone: Not too mention the fact that we have a match at the upcoming PPV too...

Highone: (Nods) That we do.....Though for now pal.....What say we work together.....And see that this girl's killer is brought to justice huh?

DeadZone: (His conversation with her well on his mind, he nods) I'd like that very much....

(To be continued)

"AAAAAAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!"

"Please... don't hurt him anymore!!!"

"Do you think I'd forget!? Fucking kid!"

"GO TO HELLAAAAAAGHHH!!!"

The moonlight shon through the window of a dim, large but relatively empty room. All that inhabited the room was a table, four people and a screw driver. The screw driver slowly approached the palm of one of the people as two other looked on.

"Stop it... please... he doesn't deserve this..." sobbed Lita as she watched.

She suddenly jerked forward but was held in place by a man she didn't know: Quinn. He held tightly onto her, one arm around her waist and another around her neck. He laughed into her ear.

"You can't leave before the main attraction, sweetie..." he snickered.

Mac Avoy stood at the side of the table with the screwdriver in his hand. The man looked down at David Hardy, who was tied to the table, with cold, soulless eyes. David Hardy lay shaking on the table with his hand extended and clamped in place. Tears streamed down his face and he broke out into a cold sweat when he saw the massive amount of blood around his hand out of the corner of his eye. He hoped this was the end. It wasn't.

Mac Avoy placed the tip of the screwdriver into the center of Hardy's palm. Over half a year ago, Hardy's hand was brutally impaled by a flag courtesy of Bruce, effectively putting him out of action. The ordeal traumatized Hardy severly, and the wound never fully recovered. Now it surely wouldn't. Mac slowly put more weight onto the tool, pressing it deeper into Hardy's massive gash. Hardy let out another scream.

"I don't remember you stopping when you and your Infinity boys kicked the shit out of me last month. HOW DOES IT FEEL NOW!?" he screamed.

Before Hardy could respond, Mac began stabbing his hand like a madman. The blood splashed up onto his face, but it did little to stop him. He continued to stab and stare with his cold eyes.

"Shit, I think this guys lost his fuckin' mind..." Quinn said to himself.

"You think so!!!??" Lita screamed at him and struggled again to no avail.

"Fuck you!" Mac roared at them, "You don't know what this punk fucking did to me!"

Mac raised the screwdriver one more time, high into the air. With a yell, he brought it down, stabbing it hard into Hardy's open palm. The young superstar let out a blood curdling scream as the screwdriver stuck straight out of his mangled hand. Hardy's vision was obscured by the stream of tears in his eyes, but he could make out the blood. Lots of blood.

Suddenly the door opened.

In walked the massive hitman, Tony Lupelli. He casually walked towards Mac Avoy, glancing at Hardy and giving a disgusted look. Looking at Mac, he motioned to the door with his head.

"I believe you had business you needed to tend to..." Supreme grumbled.

Mac shrugged, "Actually, I find this to be qui-"

"Now." Lupelli cut him off.

"Whatever," Mac scoffed, "where am I going?"

"Third door on the left..." Lupelli said bluntly.

Mac Avoy shook his head and shuffled out of the room, mumbling to himself. Quinn laughed.

"That guys off his rocker! Thanks for gettin' rid of him." Quinn smirked.

Lupelli simply looked at him, "I believe the door is still open..."

Quinn raised an eyebrow before nodding slowly, "You want me leave?"

"This is between myself and Hardy," Lupelli responded.

"I get ya," Quinn nodded, "and the girl?"

Lita stood in his clutches, glaring silently at Supreme.

"Leave her, she's no thread," Lupelli said.

Quinn nodded and shoved Lita forward. She stumbled forward but quickly ran to Hardy, who was still tied to the table. She knocked the screwdriver away and clutched him tightly. Whimpering, she hugged him and whispered into ear, trying to calm the both of them. Quinn shook his head and walked to the door. He nodded to Lupelli as he exited.

"Have fun..." Quin said as he exited.

The door clicked shut and Lupelli stepped towards Hardy. Lita instantly hopped over and stood defensively infront of David.

"Leave him alone..." she growled, "you.. you've done enough already."

"Step aside," Lupelli responded, "this doesn't concern you."

"Fuck you!!" she screamed.

She instantly stepped forward and attempted to slap the big man. It was ill-fated however, as Lupelli easily blocked it and spun Lita around. When she turned, she found herself face to face with a 9mm silenced pistol. She gasped and stepped backwards.

"I'll ask you again to step aside," said the cold blooded killer, "and request that you do not swear in my presence."

Lita stood in place glaring at him.

Lupelli cocked the gun, "I won't ask you again."

Lita gulped and stepped away from them, "please don't hurt him."

Lupelli ignored her and began to untie Hardy from the table, putting the gun away. Once Hardy was untied, Lupelli simply kicked the table over, knocking Hardy onto the floor with a thud. He scrambled into a sitting position, holding his bloody hand against his body. He stared up at Supreme with a look of both fear and rage.

"David Hardy, we meet again," Lupelli smirked.

"What do you want from me now!?" Hardy yelled.

Lupelli rubbed the back of his head, "That was a kind greeting you gave me earlier. What was that, a baseball bat?"

Hardy snarled, "it was a sledgehammer, assho-"

Lupelli backhanded him viciously and yanked him up to his feet. With a glare on his face, Supreme pressed Hardy against the wall.

"You listen to me," Lupelli said through gritted teeth, "last time around was business until you made it personal by hurting Valentina. You should consider yourself lucky that you're even alive."

"Both of you deserve every goddamn thing that happened to you!" Hardy grumbled.

Lupelli scowled and drove a fist into Hardy's stomach. He wasted no time in throwing the smaller man like a lawn dart into the opposite wall. Hardy laid motionless for a few moments before slowly creeping back up to his feet. It was short lived, however, as he was quickly rocked by a shoulder block to the chin from Lupelli. Hardy collapsed against the wall with a groan.

"David!!" Lita screamed and ran to him.

"What did I tell you!?" Lupelli raised his voice, drawing his gun again.

Lita's eyes widened and she backed off again. She watched on with terrified eyes.

Hardy whispered "Don't you ever threaten her you-"

Lupelli's foot pressed tightly against Hardy's throat, "you are hardly in the position to be making threats. You're nothing without your friends around you."

Hardy winced, "and you're a dickless whore-diver!"

"You fool..." Lupelli scoffed as his eyebrow twitched with frustration.

David Hardy glared at Lupelli and spat in his face. Growling angrily, Lupelli scooped Hardy up onto his shoulder and tossed him dirctly into the table on it's side. With a loud crash drowning out Lita's scream, Hardy split the table into many smaller pieces. He laid there motionless again.

"You really do have a death wish, don't you!?" Lupelli yelled.

He stomped over towards Hardy, rotating his large fists. Kicking some of the debris away, he stood over Hardy with his arms crossed. He didn't expect the tenacious youngster to suddenly pop up with a piece of wood in his hand. Lupelli tried to put a hand up in time, but the piece of wood came crashing down on his forhead. The big man stumbled backwards with a grunt. Hardy yelled and threw a kick into Lupelli's gut, staggering the hitman again. He tried for a punch but Lupelli stepped backwards, avoiding it. With a roar, Lupelli lunged forward and clotheslined Hardy off of his feet.

"Stop it!" Lita screamed to no avail.

Lupelli raised a heavy boot and brought it down just a split second after Hardy moved out of the way. Hardy rolled onto his feet and dove at Lupelli's leg, taking it out from behind and bringing him down. David jumped to his feet but stepped towards Lupelli, but was quickly met by a large boot to the chest, knocking him back. Lupelli got back to his feet and whiped a spat of blood on his lip.

"I see the time off hasn't slowed you down..." Lupelli smirked.

"I think you just bring out the best of me..." said sarcastically, narrowing his eyes.

Lupelli quickly stepped forward and slugged Hardy across the jaw. He followed it up with a hard left, but it was ducked by the smaller man. The momentum spun Lupelli around, giving Hardy the chance to jab his enemy in the back of the head. The soft blow had a large impact on Lupelli, however, do to the previous damage the sledgehammer did. Lupelli staggered slightly but recovered in time to catch a jumping Hardy on his shoulders. With a grunt, Lupelli tossed Hardy onto the ground beside next to Lita.

"David!" she yelled in feat, bending down next to him.

"Look out!" Hardy yelled back at her as he shoved her out of the way, just before Lupelli hits Hardy with a spear.

The force lifts Hardy off of his feet as he gets slammed into the wall. Though staggered, Hardy wrapped his arm around Lupelli's neck and delivered several knees to Supreme's chest. A final kick to the chest moved Lupelli away but he came right back, throwing a right hand at Hardy. Hardy threw a punch at the exact same time and their fists met in midpunch. The meeting punches rocked both of them, though Hardy's injury gave him the worst of it, sending a cloud of blood in the air. Lita once again stepped towards Hardy to make sure he's okay.

"David, let's get out of here, please!" her voice quivered.

"This ends now," Lupelli said, ripping off his tie.

Hardy shook his head and smirked. He suddenly raised his arms, then brought them down quickly to form an X over his crotch.

"Suck it, assclown..." his cocky voice said.

Lupelli roared and dashed at Hardy, punching him in the shoulder. Hardy no-sold it however and suddenly stepped forward with a superkick. The closeness only allowed the kick to hit Lupelli in the chest, which barely fazed him. Lupelli countered with a knee to the gut and followed with a left punch to the cheek. With a mighty yell, Lupelli stepped forward and threw a powerful right punch towards Hardy's chest. Hardy gasped and ducked under it. He could feel the force and velocity as the punch passed overhead. He could hear it suddenly make impact with something, followed by a woman's scream.

David Hardy's eyes widened and everything suddenly went slow motion.

He quickly turned around to see Anthony Lupelli's fist dig deep into Lita's sternum. A look of shock and pain soon came over her face as her chest and stomach seemed to wrap around Lupelli's massive fists. She could feel at least one bone crack inside of her. An equally shocked Lupelli gasped and quickly pulled backwards, moving back a few feet. He stared in disbelief. Lita's eyes met Hardy's as she began to fall backwards. With a sickening thud she fell back onto the ground. Her face quickly turned red and her breathing was shallow and hoarse. She grabbed her chest and stared up at the ceiling in an excrusiating amount of pain. Hardy quickly crawled over to her.

"Lita!" he yelled as he moved to her.

He grabbed onto her and held her protectively. She struggled to breathe. Hardy pulled her shirt up to see a massive reddish-blue mark over her sternum.

"C-can't b-b-br-reathe" she whispered, a terrified look in her eyes.

"I'll get you out of here, I swear!" Hardy told her.

He quickly got to his feet and stared across the room at Lupelli. Lupelli, still looking a bit shocked, shook his head.

"THIS IS IT!!!!" Hardy screamed at Lupelli.

"Look at you!" Lupelli roared back, "your friend is dying and you care about is fighting!!?? She needs help, not this!!!"

"FUCK YOU!!!" Hardy roared as he charged at Lupelli.

Lupelli roared back, "enough of this!!!!"

Hardy dashed forward with blinding speed. He suddenly hit the ground, however, and slid through Lupelli's legs with ease, kipping up behind him. Lupelli turned towards his opponent only to receive a jumping upcut to the face. Lupelli staggered backwards as a cloud of mixed blood enguled the area. Hardy wasted no time to continue the attack as he stepped towards Supreme, throwing a wild barrage of punches. Lupelli managed to block most of them, but a few did hit their target. Tony was surprised at his opponents sudden burst of speed and strength.

"I'll kill you!!!!" Hardy screamed.

Hardy tried to headbutt Lupelli, but the big man brought up a heavy knee and hit Hardy square in the face. The younger of the two stepped back momentarily but the sheer adrenaline brought him back. Hardy was quickly struck with a hard elbow, but it did little to slow him down. With blinding speed, Hardy slipped behind Lupelli and jumped onto his back. He pulled backwards, pulling the surprised hitman off balance. He fell backwards and landed hard with Hardy's knees digging into his back.

Lupelli let out a yell of pain but quickly got to his feet. He deflected more punches from Hardy and tried a hard side kick, but Hardy jumped back out of the way. He instantly hopped back towards Lupelli and latched onto him, digging his teeth into his neck like a wild dog. Lupelli yelled in shock and threw Hardy off of him. He could see the mad look in Hardy's eyes and his own blood coming out of Hardy's mouth.

"You sick freak!!!" Lupelli roared at Hardy.

Lupelli glanced over his shoulder at Lita, who looked even worse than before. It would prove to be a mistake that Hardy would exploit to the fullest. Before Lupelli could even look back, he felt a sharp kick to the stomach, causing him to bend over slightly. Hardy then screamed and spun around, delivering a left roundhouse kick to Lupelli's cheek. In the same movement, Hardy brought up his right foot and struck Lupelli in the jaw with it. Using the huge momentum, Hardy became airborn. Lupelli could feel the side of Hardy's left foot strike him in the face. Still in midair, Hardy finally brought his powerful right foor up and struck Lupelli in the back of the head with a huge enziguiri like maneuver. Hardy finally landed after kicking Lupelli four times in the same spinning motion. Lupelli suddenly felt woozy from the combination of the kicks and his weakened skull from the sledgehammer shot earlier. He glared at Hardy then over at Lita as he lost his balanced and collapsed to the ground. The big man laid motionless.

"You want blood, motherfucker!?" Hardy growled.

Hardy stepped over the KO'd Lupelli and raised his foot up, ready to bring it down on his hated enemy's face when he suddenly noticed Lita. She wasn't moving anymore.

"Lita!!!" he screamed, having nearly forgotten about her in his uncontrollable rage.

He sprinted over to her and dropped down to his knees beside her. He lifted her head up and the two momentarily made eye contact. Lita tried to say something to him but her eyes quickly rolled back and she lost conciousness. Hardy shook his head.

"No..." Hardy whispered, "No! Stay with me!"

He gingerly scooped up her motionless body and her close. He stood up and quickly ran for the door.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry, Lita!" he cried, "please be okay!"

Hardy kicked the door open and quickly exited the building, heading to the nearest hospital as fast as he could go...

*******************

A figure entered the room where just an hour earlier an epic fight between sworn enemies had occured. The man could see blood splattered on the wall and floors, pieces of a table everywhere, a screwdriver on the floor, and finally, a massive hitman laying face down on the ground with a large wound on the back of his head.

"I don't suppose there is a bell to ring for service?" he asked coyly.

The man walked deeper into the room until he was standing directly over Lupelli. He raised his cane and poked the big man repeatedly with it, but got no reaction. The man, dressed in all black, shook his head as he observed the aftermath of the previous chaos. It looked like David Hardy's lockerroom after a drinking binge. He had no idea how close he was to be correct.

Silence engulfed the room as the man stood motionless for several minutes as he simply observed. The silence was then broked, but just barely. Somewhere nereby, he could hear the voice of a man. A newly familiar man.

"Mac..." the man grinned.

With a smile on his face, he walked towards the door. Before exiting, he tapped his cane on two sides of the doorframe, then finally exited. He nodded slowly to himself as he strutted down the hallway towards Mac Avoy's voice. Mac had no idea what the Titanium Insomniac had in store for him next...

**Up this high, there's always a breeze. Sometimes gentle & cooling, others stiff & cutting. But right at this moment, PD realizes that there isn't any breeze at all. No circulation of air whatsoever. The heavy & thick humid air grabs & clings to Cameron's lungs & skin. He pauses, digesting this realization. The realization gave Valerie Stern just the break she needed. Seizing Cameron's arm, she yanks him, spinning him away from the pane less window. Cameron's eyes fixate upon hers. The icy glare making her realize that if Cameron Jones were anything other than a "stand up" guy, she would feel threatened by this man, at this moment. But even with him being "stand up", she beats down the slight feeling of fear that is trying to creep up from her soul & seize her.**

PD-"What the fuck are you doing?"

**Pushing the black rimmed glasses that she wears only for the intellectual look they provide, back up her nose, she points her index finger in Cameron's face.**

VS-"Once again, there go two testosterone fueled jackasses ready to give away the fight for free, when there are millions of people who would pay $50 or more to see you two rip each other apart. Well, I'm not letting you two or Shadow destroy this marketing God send."

**Cameron blinks & shakes his head.**

PD-"Marketing God send?"

**Valerie smiles & flips a few loose strands of hair behind her ear.**

VS-"Yes. This is real heat. Real drama. I can't manufacture this. Hollywood's best writers couldn't capture this moment. Because it's real. TCW has captured lightening in a bottle...*She pokes her finger into Cameron's chest*...And I'm not letting the bottle get opened until the cameras are rolling & my millions of paying customer's asses are in their seats, glues to that idiot box they worship."

**She leans back, lowering her hand.**

VS-"So, if you go against my orders, I will..."

**PD leans in, the shadows in the room giving his eyes a darkened & brooding look.**

PD-"You'll what?"

**Swallowing a little harder than normal, she leans in closer to PD.**

VS-"I'll fire you on the spot."

**PD stands upright & smirks.**

PD-"You can't."

**Here we go again, she thinks. Another man trying to tell her what she can & can't do.**

VS-"Oh really? Well in case you haven't figured out who you're talking to, I'm..."

**PD walks up to Valerie & places his hands on either side of her face, with his fingers touching her scalp & his thumbs just under her chin & squeezes just tightly enough to let her know that there is no tenderness in this expression. She flinches back slightly, but Cameron doesn't relax his grip & she remains still.**

PD-"You're Valerie Stern. Self made woman. A real bitch in the board room & an even bigger one in the bedroom. And because you own this company, you think you own me. But you don't. No one does. Read my contract. You can't fire me. Try it & at the end of the day, I'll own this fucking company...and you."

**PD relaxes his grip & she immediately backs away until her shoulder blades touch the wall behind her. Horribly attempting to keep her emotions & adrenaline in check, Valerie glares at Cameron.**

VS-"You ever touch me again & I'll have you arrested & sent away for a very long time."

**PD dismisses her statement & turns toward the window.**

VS-"I'm serious, do not go out that window. I'll find a way to fire you. I know people."

**Cameron looks back over his shoulder at her as he approaches the opening.**

PD-"And I know people too. People that'll make sure you don't succeed. No matter the cost...or the loss."

**The cold steel stare from Cameron catches Valerie off guard as her eyes slightly water. She quickly fights it back as she sees him approach the window opening & stop.**

VS-"WAIT!"

**Cameron looks back over his shoulder.**

PD-"WHAT!"

VS-"Let me get a camera crew up here."

**PD shakes his head & looks back out the window.**

PD-"Fuck off...slunt."

**With that, PD grabs the lead pipe, crosses himself & leaps out window, leaving Valerie Stern alone in the strewn room. She stares out the window & slides down the wall slightly.**

VS-"I will make the rest of your life a living hell Mr. Jones."

**Outside on top of the lower roof, Shadow stares at Cameron Jones, who is on one knee & holding a lead pipe, approximately 12 foot away from him. Shadow grins slightly & glances up at the window, then back at Cameron.**

Shadow-"I'm impressed. I didn't think you had it in you. As a matter of fact, I'm going to have to cut this short as my ride home should be here in a matter of moments."

**PD slowly rises up. Eyes darting around briefly, then directly at Shadow.**

PD-"You're not fucking leaving until you tell me where my family is & why you set up that accident."

**Shadow shakes his head slowly & lowers it slightly. He lifts it back up so they are at eye level.**

Shadow-"I'm not going to say this again, so listen up...take notes...write it on your forehead so you can see it & read it everyday."

**Shadow straightens up a little more.**

Shadow-"I did not cause the accident."

**PD squeezes the pipe tighter & licks his lips.**

PD-"You lying piece of shit!"

**PD charges at Shadow, raising the lead pipe above his head. Shadow takes one step back, defensively & glances at the roof top ledge, judging how much space he has. Just as PD swings the pipe down like an axe...

KLANNNNGGGG

...Shadow has brought his pipe up with both hands & blocked the strike. He moves laterally & swings the pipe like a sword. PD jumps back, avoiding it & spinning around attempts to do a backhanded strike, which is easily deflected by Shadow.**

Shadow-"Wow...you sure have some pent up aggression Cameron."

**PD swings again, only to have it blocked again rather easily by Shadow.**

PD-"Fuck you Shadow!...*Swings again*...Where's my family?"

Shadow-*Ducks*..."I don't know what you're talking about. Like I said...*Shadow runs right past PD & straight at the wall. PD turns & watches.*..."The last time I saw them"...*Shadow runs right up the wall for several steps, then flips off of the wall, landing on his feet, facing PD, with a grin on his face & the lead pipe in his hand still.*..."they were with you."

**PD relaxes slightly, then squeezes the pipe again.**

PD-"Was that really necessary?"

**Shadow relaxes also & looks back at the wall, then at Cameron.**

Shadow-"No. But I've always tried to try & do that."

**PD nods & shrugs, then takes off running full bore at Shadow, who is standing completely rigid.**

PD-"Yeah? Well I've always wanted to do this!"

**PD leaps into the air, with the end of the pipe wrapped in the palm of his hand & the remaining shaft running down his forearm. He strikes at Shadow, who sidesteps him & uses PD's momentum against him, by thrusting him directly into the wall, busting PD open even more.**

Shadow-"You aren't a challenge right now Cameron."

**Shadow walks over to Cameron & kicks the pipe away.**

Shadow-"Actually, you never were."

**Shadow blasts PD in the back of the head, knocking him out instantly. As Cameron slumps to the ground, Shadow drops the pipe & wipes the blood splatter off of his gloves. He turns & walks toward the ledge.**

Thhhhpbt

Shadow-"What the fuck?"

**Shadow reaches up to his neck & pulls a dart, no longer than an inch in size, from the back of his neck. He turns around & as the colors begin to fade to a grey washout & he passes out, he sees two figures up in the window from where he jumped.**

Shadow-"Stern? You sl..."

**Shadow drops to the rooftop, out cold. Back up in the window, Valerie Stern smiles & pats a local on the shoulder.**

VS-"Thank you. Your village will be well provided for."
============================

**The whoosh of roaring air being raced passed brings Shadow from his slumber. Something instantly feels wrong as he opens his eyes & sees the restraints banding his arms, legs & torso to the jet's seat.**

Shadow-"This is disappointing."

PD-"Really? See I thought you would find this rather ironic since I'm sure you've had your fair share of, what should we call them...victims? Yeah, victims. Since you've had your fair share of victims in this exact situation."

**Shadow looks to his right & immediately across the aisle from him, he sees Cameron Jones in the exact same spot. Cameron is looking out the window.**

Shadow-"So...it appears as if someone has interest in the two of us."

PD-"No offense Shadow...but shut the fuck up. Actually...offense intended."

**PD looks over at Shadow, who is busy examining the shackles around him & then looks back out the window.**

PD-"I'm going to get out of here. And when I do, I'm going to beat the information about my family out of you."

**Shadow shimmys his shoulders slightly.**

Shadow-"I think I'll be out of these in a few moments."

krZZZZZZZZACKKK

Shadow-"AAAIIIIIEEEEEEEE!

**PD whips his head around & sees an obviously foreign man, holding a cattle prod. Smoke raises up from a spot mere inches from Shadow's right nipple. Shadow's chest raises & lowers quickly. Perspiration begins to bead up under his mask.. PD looks at the man, who looks over at PD & pokes the prod towards him, but not close enough to do anything more than warn him.**

Man-"YOU TWO NO TRY MOVE! YOU TRY MOVE AGAIN YOU GET MORE SHOCK! MORE SHOCK!"

**PD keeps his eyes on the man.**

PD-"I think I might have found some who at this moment, I hate more than you."

**The man looks back & forth between PD & Shadow, then suddenly jams the prod onto PD's ribcage.**

krZZZZZZZZAAAAACKKKKKKK

PD-"AAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!

**The man pulls the prod away from PD & grins a sickeningly disturbing smile. The smell of burnt cloth & skin begins to float around the cabin. After a few moments, PD looks at the man.**

PD-"Now it's confirmed...I have found someone I hate more than you."

Shadow-"I cannot hate this man because he appears to enjoy his job. And in this day & age, there's really nothing better than to enjoy the work you do."

**PD looks over at Shadow briefly as Shadow glances at PD.**

Shadow-"Of course, my appreciation for his love of his job isn't going to stop me from killing him when I get free."

**The man grins & giggles a little towards Shadow as he turns & walks back down the aisle, disappearing behind a drawn curtain. A monotone voice comes over the speaker.**

Voice-"We have several more hours left in our flight, so please make yourself as comfortable as you can. Thank you for flying with us."

**The two men sit for a few more minutes with nothing but time & silence passing between them.**

Shadow-"He's a dead man too."

**PD stares blankly at the seat in front of him.**

PD-"I'd try & play upon your humanitarian side, but you don't have one. As a matter of fact, I'm not even sure you have a soul. So I will just ask once again. Will you please tell me why you did what you did."

**Shadow takes in a deep breath & sighs, continuing to look out the window.**

Shadow-"I had nothing to do with your accident."

**Cameron closes his eyes & shakes his head.**

PD-"Listen...I know that you..."

Shadow-"You don't know anything at all."

**PD looks over at Shadow, who turns & faces him.**

Shadow-"Since we've got a while to go on this flight, I'm gonna share a few things with you."

**PD stares back at Shadow.**

Shadow-"One...I had nothing to do with your accident. But I did know about it."

**Blood rushes back into Cameron's cheeks as the anger inside of him begins to boil up.**

Shadow-"You have to understand some things about me Cameron. I will always find a way to get the job one. If I had arranged for your accident, you wouldn't be alive. I do not, nor the men that work for me, make mistakes."

**Cameron continues to stare at Shadow, but his look softens slightly.**

PD-"But you said you knew about it."

Shadow-*nodding*..."Yes, I did. It's my job to know these things. Especially when the things concern me & my welfare. You see, I just won the tag straps with you & you were going to take a break. Well, I needed to know where you were in case we had to defend the belts. So when I found out about the accident, I wasn't going to alarm anyone. I named Desean as my new tag partner as a precaution. I mean, in this day & age, you can never be too safe. And I figured that there is always a chance that you could be alive since they didn't find [/b]your[/b] body."

**PD's face slumps as his eyes begin to get wide.**

PD-"You said they didn't find my body. What about..."

**Shadow looks away.**

Shadow-"..."

**PD tries to lean forward, but the restraints only squeeze him tighter.**

PD-"YOU SAID THEY DIDN'T FIND MY BODY. WHAT ABOUT KIM & ZACK'S?"

**Shadow nods his head.**

Shadow-"That's why I was even more upset about the way you returned. I had gotten attached to him because of our studies on trying to reverse or correct the defective autism gene. And working with Kim's DNA & how I could see her unconditional & undying love & dedication to him."

**Cameron turns away from Shadow & looks out the window.**

Shadow-"Then you returned & started attacking us & I didn't understand what had changed in you."

**Cameron continues to stare out the window & Shadow looks out his.**

Shadow-"You just said a minute ago that you're not even sure I have a soul...*Cameron pulls his stare away from the window & over to Shadow*...and I can tell you I no longer do. Because no God of my soul would take those two beautiful creatures from us."

**Cameron closes his eyes & leans his head back as his heart slows to a crawl with heaviness. Cameron Jones, aka PlausibleD, has millions of fans. His t-shirt was the hottest selling shirt ECF had in the fall of '04. He has a fan club that boasts 225,000 active members. But for the first time in years, he cries the tears of a lonely man.**

Fadeout.

This was all supposed to be so much simpler.

This week it was supposed to be Mac. The Sleepless One had been so amused by the other man's claims; he'd expected to toy with him, elevate his own status by revealing the true pitiful status of the other. Demolish him as a pretender. String him up finally in that one terrifying act needed to put everyone else on notice. Feed them all crow until it bleeds from their nostrils.

It had all gone exactly as planned. Their first encounter had planted the seed, which quickly seemed to bear fruit via a sharp decline into psychosis. But The Insomniac's actions...the insults, the threats...it wasn't these actions that had caused Mac's downhill turn.

It was something he'd done months ago. And yet...how'd he know?

Yes, it was supposed to be much simpler than this.

The impression of the room was not lost on The Insomniac. It was the smell, the very scent of blood wafting across his nostrils. It hadn't been taken willingly...as if there's ever been a situation where it has. No, the aura of violence remains, surrounding TI. He need only close his eyes, the splatter on the wall, the pool by the table...still fresh in his mind's eye. Hardy had made a scene. The trace of a grin appears on TI's lips as he marvels the kid's moxy.

Re-opening his eyes, he focuses on the voice.

This part wasn't supposed to be so simple. It was an opportunity he'd neither expected nor wished to squander.

He'd had a brief conversation with Jeremiah before arriving:

"He knows something...something about California." TI was pounding the steering wheel, gripping the cellphone like a lifeline.

"What does he know?"

"He quoted back to me what that piece of shit yelled before I finished it." The wheels of the BMW let out a whine as he turned a corner a little too sharply.

"Is that it?"

"What do you mean, ‘Is that it?' He could have been there, for all I know. I thought that place had been deserted..." TI took another sharp turn, and this time it caused him to fumble the cellphone just a little.

"It had been. I staked it out beforehand. No one but a couple bag ladies. But they were hardly in their right minds to remember later."

TI's face contorted into one of disgust at his revelation. "Fucking homeless...well, one of them must have remembered something..."

"What difference does it make?"

"The difference that it makes is that my secrets often get thrown back in my face...exploited by people who never deserved to hear them. I was going to crush your windpipe the day we met because of that." TI was less frantic at this point, reclaiming the composure he'd always been known for. There was silence for a time on the other end. "Jeremiah."

"I'm still here. Listen...you know now that I've done no exploitation. But it's true, Mac might. I can't conceive of a way he would, but he's one of imagination. If there was a witness that night, his or her light needs to be extinguished."

TI's face hardens with new resolve. "I'll take care of it."

The Insomniac now listens outside the door of the office. The receptionist lies crumpled behind the desk, the faint outline of a cane adorning her cheek and temple. The voices are muffled by the mahogany, but they are clear enough to him.

"I'm...I need to remember something and then eliminate it from my memory..."

"Well, I'll probably be able to help you with the first, but I'm afraid the second will be much more difficult. In fact, there is not really any form of pharmacology or technology that would perform such an action for you...nothing healthy or safe. Plus, our repressed memories are the ones that cause further problems for us."

TI harkens back to Scott Daniels and rolls his eyes.

"Why bring something to the surface only to bury it again, anyway?"

"Because...because what I saw...what I think I saw...isn't something-"

What HE saw...?

TI stumbles back from the door a few feet and catches himself on the arm of a chair. His breathing elevates much the same way it had after Revolucion. His pulse bangs like a bass drum in his ears.

TI allows his own weight to carry him down and he sags into the chair. He first rests his chin on his cane, and then his forehead. Once again, he closes his eyes, and the image of the room, the scent of blood, even the phantom screams, comes rushing back to him. His knuckles become a sharp contrast of white against his black gloves as he unwittingly grips his cane more tightly...

From inside the room, Mac is stammering. He doesn't want to verbalize it. This is the step he wants to skip. But he knows that he can't...first write it all down and then erase it, white it out. He steals a glance at the shrink, her soft eyes a small comfort as he poises himself to vomit the whole thing out and then she could clean it up.

"Whenever you're ready, Mr. Avoy. Take your time."

He parts his lips a couple times, but nothing comes out. He rubs his hands together nervously, tries to keep them from shaking too badly. Allowing a long breath to escape his mouth, he meditates. Finally finding the serenity he needs, he begins. "I-"

There is a single sharp knock on the door which rouses Mac from his tranquil state. He looks toward the door without a word, the realization growing within him. The doctor thinks it nothing out of the ordinary and rises to see who it is. The words of warning form in Mac's throat, but they are slow in materializing fully as she opens the door and surveys the outer room. "Hello?"

She looks down and makes a curious sound of discovery. She kneels and reaches for something out of Mac's sight and brings it...them...into the room. It is a black cane, broken in half, its mark clearly visible on the outside of the door.

Mac feels the laughter rising again. He doubles over in his chair and clutches his ankles.
___________________

The only sound comes from the heart monitor. It is hypnotic, that constant steady beeping. One is able to ignore it after a time, but David Hardy is only ignoring it because he's so focused on the one it steadily reports on...a direct line to those charged with her care.

He'd refused to leave her side; almost violently so. The first suggestion from a nurse for him to wait outside was met with a stream of incoherent expletives. They'd never asked him again. Now he looks on through tired bloodshot eyes, waiting for news of her recovery, waiting to speak to her again, waiting for the next opportunity to finish what he started in that bare gray room, now turned red.

Hardy examines his freshly bandaged hand, a wound he'd only let them treat after seeing to her. It's tender to the touch, probably will be so up until matchtime. That would be a disadvantage for him, but he'd fought through worse. Obviously it hadn't slowed him down against Lupelli already. Raw passion makes the most effective anesthetic.

His gaze drifts back up, and if it's as if he notices it all for the first time. He remembers her lips, full, touching his. He brushes flecks of mascara from her upper cheeks, restoring her to the image that she deserves to be.

And for the first time, he senses that he's not alone. Tensing up, he prepares for another scrape. But even as the newcomer reveals his identity, Hardy's muscles don't relax. "'Come what sorrow can, It cannot countervail the exchange of joy, That one short minute gives me in her sight.'"

The Insomniac enters, a rare gentleness about him. Hardy chooses to ignore the gesture. "What are you doing here?"

"Finding you."

"What the hell for?"

TI finds a chair in the corner, the cheap plastic groaning as he situates himself. "You know, you assume that I'm always around to mock you...to somehow make light of your existence. And while that is true most days, it certainly isn't the case now. So do me a favor and drop the whiny bitch mode-"

It takes Hardy less than two seconds to jump on TI, who holds him at a half-arm's length. "I've seen the room. I know you're jonesing for a bit of revenge..."

Hardy's eyes grow moist, tears already running down his cheeks. "That motherfucker did this to her...I...I'm going...I'll cut his fucking balls off..."

The Insomniac stands and, with gravity's help, ushers Hardy into his chair. He glances over to Lita. "At least this one has a chance. A very good chance." TI looks back down at Hardy before kneeling so the two are at eye level. "I need your help with something. If you do that, I'll return the favor."

Hardy studies The Sleepless One's countenance for quite a while. Through the black is a sinister honesty that tells him this is for real. "You return the favor...and then I'll give you help."

"What?"

"I'm not leaving her. When she wakes up, when something can be said for what they're gonna do for her, I'm going to be here. That's just the way it's gonna be. I don't give a shit if you know that, but I'm not leaving her."

The Insomniac rises, impatience welling up within him. "And quite frankly, I don't give a shit about your little secret. Hell, I don't know why it's a secret to begin with. That's not why I came up here. I knew you'd be angry enough to do something about it. But apparently, you're okay with me being your hired gun. Do I have that right?"

Hardy leans back in his chair, steeling himself. "At the moment...yeah, you do."

TI sighs. "Great. So I'll go finish what you started. And then you're going to help me with my problem."

Hardy raises his hands in acceptance. "Fine with me."
___________________

Lupelli feels the burning cold slide down the back of his throat. Wiping his mouth, he sets down his glass, still lightly coated in the dark tan liquid that occupied it, and crawls underneath the covers, relieved that this day has finally passed. He winces as he settles himself against the headboard and, in a moment of curiosity, picks up the remote.

"...and in a bizarre event earlier this evening, police are still trying to piece together information about a car chase on the highway. Here you can see footage via helicopter of a black Cadillac and a black BMW veering around other traffic and repeatedly smashing into one another..."

"Now that's compelling television." The Insomniac emerges from his post in the shadows. Lupelli instinctively reaches under his pillow, but only feels the cool of the sheets. "Sorry. Had to dump that. You understand."

"How'd you get in here?"

"You'd be amazed at what I can do. I figured you'd have Gort standing outside your room tonight, so I had to get a little more creative. But you have to admit that I make a hell of an entrance."

"Watch your mouth."

"That'll be the least of your concerns tonight."

Lupelli rests his head against the wall and regrets this choice, smarting from his sledgehammer wound. "It's just an endless barrage from you people..."

Draping his cane over the back of a chair, TI pours himself a glass of Scotch. "Well, you should have thought about that before you took a shot at the guy's love interest."

"That was an accident!! Infinity members truly think everyone's out to get them, don't they? So...what...you're going to do his job for him?"

The Insomniac licks his lips after a sip. "This is damn good. Hm? Doing Hardy's job for him? Well...something like that. First, I want you to tell me a few things. I want you to tell me about Mac."

"About Mac?"

"This really is a splendid house. Rooms so big that words reverberate. Yes, about Mac. You are going to tell me what he has told you about where he spent his time before crawling back here. You are going to tell me about any events of note that he might have mentioned to you. And you are going to tell me in the next thirty seconds."

Lupelli throws the covers back and gingerly swings his legs over the side of the bed. "This is all quite amusing. Let's think about this for a second, Insomniac..." Lupelli stands and walks toward the desk with the liquor. "You want me to tell you the intimate conversations shared between two men who last week were fighting against each other and this week have barely spoken a word, beyond him wanting use of my shrink and my carting him around due to his strange pathology of late. Never mind that you are ordering me to do all this. Do you know that within two minutes of leaving this room, I can have your kneecaps busted?"

"Mm. Maybe I can share a room with What's-Her-Name."

Lupelli slams down an already empty glass and roars. "THAT WAS AN ACCIDENT!!"

TI smirks. This is more to his liking. "Just tell me what I need to know about Mac. In your weakened state, I know you're smart enough not to try another confrontation today."

Now it is Lupelli's turn to smirk. "That is the most accurate thing that you've said tonight." He steps back toward the bed, brandishing another full glass of Scotch, and for the first time, The Insomniac notices the door to the bedroom open. He couldn't really tell the difference, as the doorway is filled with a blue behemoth of a man.

TI looks over at Lupelli, who raises his glass in triumph.

Yes. It was all supposed to be much simpler than this.

"I'm alone"

That was my first thought. I kept this thing going on my own now, I was the only one left in the NHFC, Acolyte was hobbling around on crutches and wearing a neck brace, unable to compete for god knows how long and now Darkness was out, indefinitely was the word.

Beep...

The whole thing seemed to be running into the ground quickly, the club was meant to be the foundation for a resistance against...what lay waiting. It had been bad enough when Acolyte was taken out, but now...It had become even worse with Darkness taken out.

Beep...

No Acolyte, No Darkness, just me and Selenia left in the club now. Things were looking bleak as while I was the champion I felt constantly like I was meant to do something else, something much grander then simply hold these belts I wasn't sure I even deserved anymore.

Beep...

I knew what the commissioner was all about, any second her damn number could pop up on my cell phone and "Oh, by the way Mr. Dante this is a title match now because that's the way I woke up this morning." would follow that number. Dante felt that he hated Stern for her wishes.

Beep...

I looked over Acolyte, he was beaten, bruised and wore all the hallmarks of having been given a beating. I looked at Selenia, she seemed tired and her mind was a blur. I then looked at Darkness; I couldn't help feeling that while his body seemed to sleep in quiet his mind was at war.

Beep...

For some reason I didn't even feel angry at this point, I had no rage left...all there was left was emptiness. I was spent, Acolyte was taken out and Darkness was now taken out as well. I felt tired as if it all had drained from me.

Beep...

I looked at Acolyte who was as I could see steaming. Before I could say anything, he got one out ahead of me.

"This isn't right!"

Beep...

"I know..." I replied not sure if I meant it.

"Why, Dante? Why did this have to happen?" Acolyte said.

"I'm not sure yet, I have no idea." I retorted not knowing if I wanted to even know.

Beep...

"Mr. Dante this situation does require Mr. Darkness to rest, if he doesn't get enough rest he will not recuperate."

I looked at the doctor and at first I felt like telling him that I was in charge...then I remembered that he knew and that his focus was on making sure Darkness got back into fighting shape.

We all left and as the door closed I felt as if the door was closing on a part of my life.

***Elsewhere***

Every city has a run down side, no matter which town or city you go to, you can always find it. Madrid was no excuse, shouldn't have been and will never be.


"Jason?"

She was calling to me but I was ignoring it. I had had enough of it all ,the past months I managed to form two very significant teams, both had fallen apart...Acolyte was in no condition to fight, wrestle or even fucking go to the bathroom himself anymore and Darkness...my enemy turned ally was taken out.

Now, All I wanted was to be taken out...and that...was why I was here. I downed the last of my lousy drink and went to it.

***Elsewhere***

Hammer and Jabbar were both feeling anxious. This was the opportunity they both felt was needed. Hammer felt that he needed to prove to Infinity, Ms. Stern and the TCW in general that he was good enough to get back to the top after his recent...time in the lower ranks of the federation. This was his time, very well the match would take place in the spot before the main event but still, it was major exposure. The finished prayer session had felt cleansing, a way to remove the debris of the old and bring in the new to get into this reawakened. Jabbar was finished and Hammer was lingering in the sensations the prayer. Jabbar's familiar voice brought Hammer from the prayer.

"I think you should watch this..."

The scene on the TV was a bar, a seedy one it seemed, windows were broken, there was blood on the ground...and a man, a man Hammer knew very well, not personally they had only chatted once during a prior meeting.

"Dante." Hammer's voice sounded like it fell.

There he was, the white clothed and pale skinned champion, beaten, bloodied and bruised. He had been the one on the receiving end of abuse it seemed, but he had taken as good as he had given, several police officers held the ghost faced champion back, he seemed to be in a state of rage. His normally pale eyes seemed to burn with some invisible inner light that seemed only to increase when regarded in relation to the incomprehensible Spanish commentary, after the strange segment from the bar, the anchorman and another man began speaking about what they had just seen in Spanish, pictures of Dante winning the TCW's Unified title was shown, the TCW logo passed by and from the bad sound they heard NHFC and the New Hellfire Club being mentioned.

Hammer's reaction was simple.

"He's gone crazy..."

Jabbar couldn't disagree, he just nodded. For some reason Jason Dante had taken everything to the limit, he had gone to a seedy bar in Madrid, and managed to start a or get into a huge fight that had left himself beaten and bruise and others severally beaten. They were dragging a manically smiling Dante off now; he was going to hell, or rather Spanish prison depending on which was worse in whose book.

Hammer saw this match as a way to make a name for himself, to make himself seem like a big thing, a way for him to avenge the things Dante and his "buddy" Darkness had done to Infinity, now Dante had apparently gone crazy and had been sent to jail, Hammer saw his ideas go down the drain straight to hell. It was a hard thing to do, but Hammer made the decision straight away.

"We're going there!"

Jabbar looked like he had just been given an invitation to get his kneecaps beaten off.

"There?"

Hammer looked at the TV and shook his head.

"No, to the jail."

***Elsewhere***

I smirked; a thing I knew made me look like I was happy even though I wasn't. The cops had given me a single cell, no one else in the entire corridor, here I was, alone at last in a world where being just that was hard as hell. Only one thing would make this complete, one thing that would...

Noise from the entrance of the corridor was an indication; the only thing that made this perfect had arrived. Without even looking I knew that Hammer and Jabbar were walking down the corridor to his cell. This, I thought; would be interesting. I turned off the smirk and without looking said.

"Hello Hammer, having a good day?"