Go down


Post  Stan Daniels on Wed Jan 26, 2011 3:16 pm

DETAILS: The blood in this match is already bad. These two have been aiming at each other for a while, and now, they're going to get a shot to either settle their differences or make them that much worse. Which match did the old Fed X Randomizer give them? JUST ADDED - Rude has asked that this match ALSO be for the Bloodsport Championship. Both the title and the third round of the tournament are on the line.

Cell Block Match – These two men have an entire empty cell block in the local abandoned prison to use as their personal playground. The main gate of Cell Block A will be locked behind the men, but all the individual cell doors will be open. Fight anywhere inside the block – any of the cells, the big common area between the cells, go wild. SOMEWHERE inside that cell block is a key. Find it and unlock the main cell block gate to let yourself out to win. Oh, in their hurry to leave, the guards might possibly have dropped their billy clubs, mace canisters, tear gas grenades, even key rings with keys that WON’T open the gate. Use whatever you can find to beat each other down. But only escaping from the Cell Block will earn you the victory.

RP RULES: All King of the Cage tournament matches are seventy-two hours with a three posts per day hard cap. In addition, there is a two hour continuation rule, meaning that one wrestler may not post back-to-back flashes until at least two hours has passed from the posting time of the first flash.

RP JUDGES: Krusher/Cedrick Caesar - Tiebreaker Living Deadgirl

The light poured through the window blinds and stung his eye. The plus side to having an eye patch is that if that side of your face is pointing toward the light, it wouldn’t wake you. This wasn’t the case with one Johnny Rude. He blinked several times before adjusting. At first, as with every morning, his mind was a fuzzy haze. He wasn’t quite up yet, not fully alert. He knew that as soon as he was, it would come. The same thing which stabbed away at him like a thousand hot pokers every morning: Agony. The kind of perpetual soreness one acquires from a lifetime of foolishly putting their lives on the line again and again.

There were some mornings he would awake and cry from it. It would take him an hour on these days to rise from bed. This morning though, he would be able to actually sit up in bed in only ten minutes. He did so and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. No matter how much time passed between the moment where he lost his eye to now, some things were just habitual. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes was one of them. He turned and saw Demonica sleeping nude beside him. Rude traced scars which covered certain parts of her reverently. She was an amazing creature, and she was his.

Johnny proceeded to the bathroom as quietly as possible. It was time to go about his morning routine. Toothpaste stained the wall somewhat. A remnant from Mandy’s trickery. Since then he had righted some of the wrongs she had caused. He closed the door behind him and took a long, hard look at his reflection. Johnny’s skin was pale, more so than normal. The single blue eye which he had was bloodshot. Every morning he had to check for signs of jaundice due to his pill intake. The skin on his face, once full and colored, appeared as though it was stretched over his bones. And it didn’t stop there, either.

His body was covered in battle scars. Burn scars on his chest and new ones forming on his back. A large, white patch rested between his shoulder blades. He had to peel it off, apply ointment, and put a new on on each morning. Every now and then Johnny would touch his back and come across a very small lump. A tiny piece of glass near the base of his spine. A tiny reminder of being thrown through a glass windshield against Dethlok. Everytime he hit the mat from a slam, Johnny wondered if the glass would be inched in just the right direction that it could cripple him entirely. His body was full of scars, and each scar told a gruesome story.

As Johnny looked at himself, he wondered if he could keep doing this. If he could keep carelessly tossing himself into the fire again and again. And if it was still all worth it. For all his abuse and the like, he had very little to show for it. At least compared to some of his stablemates. And they all had both eyes for their troubles. His career in comparison to theirs was relatively small. And tonight he would face off against someone whose achievements far surpassed his own. Not by a few wins or a few titles, but by many. Johnny was intimidated, to be sure. But more than that….he wondered if he could keep going on. His body was a bleak mockery of what it once was. What would he look like in ten years, when he was 38? 48? Would he be a mouth fothing, jibbering fool? He certainly hoped not, but at this rate…

Johnny washed his face. He had to get past this. He had to be The Antichrist Superstar. It was all he knew how to be anymore. Which, in it’s own way, was kind of sad. He would enter prison tonight. A place he had been to before. The man who would call himself The King of Extreme still had nightmares about that time. He didn’t talk about his time there, either. Not to Demonica, not to Eve, not to Holland who shared that time with him, no one. If someone asked a question, he didn’t answer. No one needed to know what went on but him. Still, the fear crept into him like a pile of worms. It wiggled and nested in his heart and coiled around him, refusing to let go. Shit, he wasn’t sure he could do this….

Elsewhere, on that same morning, Carnage was in a gym. The fact that he won over Matt McDervish was amazing. He hadn’t expected that at all, truth be told. Deep down, in the very pit of him, he thought that Matt had his number. It made sense. Matt was fresh off a One victory, was younger, and nowhere near as battered and beaten as Carnage is. And yet somehow, he proved all of the nay sayers wrong and claimed the top gold. Now, if he could only get rid of the lackey…

Jolly Rodger: Here we see Carnage training tirelessly for his match against Johnny Rude. For those of you not in the know, Johnny Rude is a vile monster of a human being. He’s set girl’s heads on fire, he’s beaten people, and he tore the life of his previous opponent, a man by the name of Hairy to shreds. He has no mercy, no humanity, and his dental hygene is questionable.

Carnage lets out a growl of frustration. He slams his weights down and looks at Jolly. Rodger looks at him with an expression painted across his visage which reads: “What?”

Carnage: Shut…up. Do you ever take a break with that thing?

Jolly: Are you kidding me!? Every moment is pivotal! I want reality! Not pre-planned, plastic, packaged Hollywood crap! Think man, this could be BIGGER than The Wrestler!

Carnage: No, YOU don’t understand, I don’t give a piss! I have more important things to worry about then…

Just then, the door to the gym opened. Jolly Rodger and Carnage turned to the entrance. There, they saw none other than The Man In Black, Reverend Future. He was, of course, wearing black and in his hand he held an envelope. He strode into the room very calmly. The look on his face said that he was all business this morning. That said, Carnage wondered why Future, right hand to HIM, would have any business with The First One? He sat on a bench and watched as the good Reverend approached him. He tipped his hat and spoke.

Future: Greetings Williamson. I’m sure you know who I am.

Carnage: You’re NightHawk’s tag partner, I know. What I’m wondering is….

Future: Why I’m here. Yes, I do need to speak with you.

Jolly begins shooting. Jolly pumped his fist and mouthed, “YES!” All he could see were the mountain of oscars and Sundance awards he’d win for this. The conversation continued.

Carnage: I’m all ears, Future.

Future: HE has been watching. And he knows who you face tonight.

Carnage: I thought he might. It’s pretty common knowledge that they’re brothers. Which is why you’re here. Come to provide moral support? Heh, I already have a pair of cheerleaders in these two!

Carnage motions to Jolly and Big Johnson. Jolly waves his hands and shouts.

Jolly: Don’t break the fourth wall!

Future: Right on the money. HE said you were sharp. Anyway, HE can’t be there tonight. However, he saw what Rude did to Hairy, and knew that something needed to be done. Carnage, Johnny can’t be allowed to win this.

Carnage: If I have my way, that won’t even be an issue.

Future: Now isn’t the time for posturing. Johnny is a vile beast. What you saw with Hairy was but the tip of a very wicked iceberg. And so HE sent me here to give you this.

He hands Carnage an envelope. The First One doesn’t ask what it is. He doesn’t ask any questions at all. He simply rips it open. And when he does a black cell phone nearly hit’s the ground. Carnage catches it before it does. The man examines it for a few seconds before looking up at Future.

Carnage: Nice model, but I have one.

Future: This one is special. Now, I need to give you some instructions.

Carnage: Will this…call HIM?

Future: No. As I said, he can’t be here. But what you hold in your hands could very well be what wins you this match and rids us of Johnny Rude forever. That said, this gift comes with a warning.

Carnage: Always too good to be true, always.

Future: The catch is this: Only one phone number has been programmed into it. As soon as you turn it on, that number will be called. Once that happens, the thing Rude fears more than the loss of his eye will make itself known. And when it does, it will bury him, once and for all. But you can’t just use it. No, you can only use it when you absolutely have NO other option.

Carnage: …..And what the hell is it that’s going to receive the call?

Future: You’d be best not knowing….trust me.

Carnage stared at the phone for a good while. In his hand he felt power, and he felt more confident at the same time. And yet, a small part of him wondered just what he’d be summoning forth, and if he could handle it….


Jolly: Cut, cut, cut. I need to see that again, but with a little more emotion this time. Future, could you stand over there where there is more light?

Carnage: Ok, now first of all I never asked ya to come back for round 2. I figured I was rid of you two after round 1.

Jolly: Hey, your fist might of said no, but your heart said yes.

Big Johnson: I must agree whole heartedly with my cohort in crime gentlemen. Deep down inside Carnage, you crave the attention. You need this to boost your moral. You know Johnny Rude is a menace that won't go down easily, therefore a little extra exposure doesn't hurt your cause any.

Carnage looked at Jolly, then over at Johnson with a dumbfounded look upon his face.

Big Johnson: Yes, I am articulate. As hard as it may be to believe.

Jolly: He plays the dumb negro when the camera is on. I feels it helps set the realism. Like when he went to bang that white woman in the end of your first round match.

Big Johnson: I was actually taking her out to a nice dinner for all her hard work. Then I escorted her home, where she gave me a nice peck on the cheek before going inside.

Jolly: Now watch this, this is too funny. It's like turning a lightswitch on and off.

Jolly Roger reaches over and hits the on button on the camera.

Big Johnson: Lordy lordy masta, we's a rollin.

Jolly turns the camera off again.

Big Johnson: And we are out.

Future: My god man, that is pure old fashioned racisim if I have ever seen it.

Jolly: It's what people expect to see when a colored man is present. In their minds, all African Americans come straight from the cotton fields. All I do is feed their expectations.

Future: Ryan, I feel I have seen enough. You have what I gave you, I'll be watching. Remember, only use that phone when it is a last resort. The power you will unleash is something you need to avoid if at all possible.

Carnage: I am not gonna pretend to understand. All I am gonna do is shake your hand and say thanks.

Carnage extends his hand for Future, and Future graciously accepts. Future takes his leave from the gym as Carnage decides he has had enough of a workout before he heads for the prison. Taking his bottle of water and towel, Carnage stands up from his workout bench. The soreness from his last match was still heavily in play. His only consolation was that Rude looked even worse then he did.


Demonica: Johnny? Johnny?

Demonica walked into the living room and found Rude passed out on the floor. She quickly went over to him and got down on her knees beside him. She started to slap his face to try and revive him.

Demonica: Johnny, wake up hun. Wake up. Come on Johnny.

After about a minute of slaps, Rude's eyes fluttered open, and he gasped in surprise.

Johnny: What the hell happened?

Demonica: Why don't you tell me? I came in here looking for ya, and found you lying on the floor.

Johnny had been feeling like passing out for awhile, but he had been able to fight through it, untill now that is.

Johnny: Get back, I am gonna stand back up.

Demonica does as she is told and Johnny indeed does get himself back up. He was a bit unsteady at first, but got his footing after about a minute or so.

Demonica: I am not so sure you should go through with this tourney. If you go out there today like this, Carnage will pick you apart.

Rude: Trust me, that is not gonna happen. I got big plans for Carny. I just need to get myself a drink is all. I'll be fine.

But deep down inside his heart he knew he wouldn't be fine. Luckily there were a few tricks up his sleeve to help him pull this out. But if those tricks happen to fail, then Johnny knows this will be the end of his journey. And speaking of tricks, Johnny had to place a call to his first one.


Carnage had left the gym, as Jolly and Johnson were starting to follow. Just then, Jolly's phone started ringing.

Jolly: Yeah, talk to me.

Rude: You remember what you have to do right?

Jolly: Of course. Carnage thinks he can get rid of me on a whim? HA! I wanna thank you for this offer Mr. Rude.

Johnny: Don't fuck it up, you or that house negro. Got it?

Jolly: Yes sir, this is gonna make us a pretty penny I can assure you. Thank you once more for the offer.

Jolly hung up the phone and smiled at Johnson.

Jolly: Looks like business is gonna pick up my friend, and we are gonna be very rich.

Big Johnson: Hey, what Carnage don't know won't kill him.....yet.

Jolly: By the time he figures out that we aren't shooting a documentary anymore, but instead a snuff film. It will be to late for him. CHA CHING!



He hung up the phone and looked at his wife. The wheels were already spinning in his head. Johnny Rude was no stranger to prison. Nor was he a stranger to the maze-like designs of some of them, or the hell that was being confined in an eight by ten cell. His mind had seen some serious horrors when behind bars, and he took some comfort in knowing that at least THIS prison would be abandoned. At least, that’s what Krusher’s stipulations had indicated. One can never be too certain about these things. In any case, Jolly was on Rude’s side in this. He had been from the beginning.

Rude had various plans for every member of the tourney, including his own wife. If she became a threat to him, he’d know just what to do to bring her down. It was a horrible thing to do, but winning was above all in the mind of one Johnny B. Rude. This tournament was his baby, his brainchild, and potentially, his salvation from mediocrity. Once the call was finished Rude went about the usual shower, shave, and other details of his routine. As he was about to head out of the door, Demonica stopped him.

Rude: What’s the matter?

Demonica: You know what the matter is, damn it.

Rude: Look, I understand you’re concerned. Hell, I’M even concerned. That said, honestly babe, I really have no choice.

Demonica: No choice? Like hell you don’t, dumb ass. Just drop out.

Rude: Drop out? When have you ever known me to quit?

Demonica: But you’re risking your life for this. Our lives together even.

Rude: It’s no different from any other day at the office. Being Bloodsport Champion means I have a target on my back no matter what the fuck I do. It doesn’t matter when or where, but I always defend it. At least in this case, I know who I’m up against.

She bit her bottom lip. It was an adorable thing which she did when she was nervous. Her beautiful crystalline eyes darted toward the ground as she kicked up imaginary dust. Her arms were folded across her chest. Johnny wrapped his arms around her and placed a kiss on her forehead.

Rude: I’ll be fine, trust me, I have this all worked out. Now Dem, do I ever go into shit like this without a plan?

Dem: No, but you don’t usually leave me out of the plan, either.

Rude: It’ll all work out, I promise. Now, I really have to go. There are a few loose ends I have to tie up before the big dance. Take care, would you?

Dem: I’ll try. I’d ask to tag along but I know what you’ll say. And quite honestly, with Charlat’s funeral on the way well….I don’t have energy to fight with you.

Rude: Look…once this is over…you and I can say goodbye together. Charlat was a sweet kid, never said an unkind thing about me. I admire that.

The two shared a farewell kiss. Demonica looked into his eye with a gaze which spoke volumes about the depth of her love and appreciation of him. His eye did much the same. They parted ways, each of them setting about their perspective tasks for the day.

That evening, the stage was set. Rude had in his mind all that he wanted to do. He stood in front of the prison. He wore a simple sleeveless T-shirt, his steel-toed boots, and a pair of jeans. Fans gathered around the abandoned building in earnest. At the mere sight of The Antichrist Superstar they were taking photos, shouting, and causing quite the commotion. Rude didn’t let any of it affect him. At the entrance of the prison was none other than Shelly Simmons. Johnny approached her and stopped. She flashed her trademark grin and turned to her sidekick camera man.

Shelly: I am here with our Bloodsport Champion and creator of the King of the Cage, Johnny B. Rude! Tonight, he faces off against Carnage, a man fresh off a win from the present one, Matt McDervish. Tell me Johnny, what are your thoughts going into this?

Johnny: My thoughts, Shelly? My thoughts are simple: I am going into that god forsaken shithole and I’m going to kick Carnage’s tubby ass. After what I went through with Hairy, NOTHING will stop me from winning this whole god damn event.

Shelly: Yes, and that was an impressive match against Hairy. Not many thought he’d put up such a valiant fight. But then again, no one thought much of Carnage, either. So, do you have some kind of strategy going into this?

Johnny: I always have some kind of strategy, bitch. I’m Johnny FUCKING Rude, for Satan’s sake. What, you think I’d waltz into there and face him all fisti-cuffs like? Stand in one place and exchange punches ‘till one of us drops? Fuck that. Carnage won’t know what hit him. You see Shelly, this battleground isn’t unfamiliar to me. Unlike Carnage, I’ve actually BEEN to a prison. Not as a visitor. Not as some fru-fru volunteer, oh no. I was an inmate. And I was subject to all the pitfalls any other inmate would face. And the prison I went to? Not abandoned like this one is. It was full of rapists, murderers, and every other kind of crook wanting to rip my head off.

Shelly: About that, you’ve never been very public about what you experienced during your incarceration. Perhaps maybe I can get a word or two on that?

Johnny: I’ll give you two words: Fuck you. It’s none of your god damn business, slore. I’ll give Carnage credit where it is definitely due. The man has moved mountains in our business. He’s done it all, at least in one company. And he’s become a house hold name. It’s something he and I have in common, actually. We’re both household names. The only difference is that mine inspires fear and hatred where as his inspires depression and dismay. Everyone knows Carnage’s best days are behind him. Me? I’m in a slump, sure, but what Carnage is in is more akin to a fucking blackened void. It sucks in all the light, all the talent, and leaves only darkness in it’s wake. That’s what his career is these days, Shelly, a blackened void of suckassery.

Shelly: One more question before I let you get inside the prison: Why are you defending The Bloodsport tonight? The rules for it aren’t like The Superstar’s. You weren’t obligated to-

Johnny: The Bloodsport Title isn’t about obligation. It’s not about meeting deadlines or quotas or giving lip service to the marks. It’s not about facing the Fed X equivalent of Fit Finley in order to appease The PB and meeting the bare minimum for title defenses. It is constant. It is a lifestyle. And I’d be remiss in my duties as a champion if I were to simply stand by and not be every bit the working champion I’ve always been. Ah, and there in lies an important difference between Carnage and I: I’m a champion? Him? He’s a slore. End of story.

He walks into the prison. Once inside, Rude is ushered by members of security and staff. He stops a moment and asks to be ushered into a bathroom. A member of security obliges and leads him to the nearest rest room. Once there, he hides in a stall and reaches into his boot. From the boot comes a long, black box, resembling something like a glasses case. He opens it and inside is a syringe. Rude takes it and injects it into the back of his knee. He winces at first, the pure adrenaline he’s injecting into himself burning as it goes in. Still, it would be worth it. The pain slowly subsided and in it’s place was sweet, sweet energy.

The very thing he would need to break Carnage in two.


Paragon: Fans, I must tell ya if you haven't been watching this show then shame on you. Now is your chance to make up for it though, cause next up is the Cellblock match in round 2 of the King of the Cage tourney. It's going to be another matchup of former One World Champions, Johnny Rude vs Carnage.

Hank: Don't forget something Paragon. This whole tourney was created by Rude. This is his baby, and for him to lose would be humiliating. Especially to a has been like Carnage.

Paragon: Don't think for a second Carnage is going to be a pushover. He has a newfound sense of confidence after being able to beat Matt McDervish in the first round in what was a brutal match in it's own right. He is going to feed off of that win and push himself harder than ever in this one. Plus Carnage wants to be the man to knock Rude out of his own tourney.

Hank: That would be an honor for any man, but I'm afraid that is just not gonna happen John. Carnage got lucky the first time out against Matt. Now his luck is about to run out.

Paragon: Speaking of which, Shelly Simmons is standing by with Carnage as we speak. Let's take it over to her at the prison.


Carnage was shown standing next to Shelly dressed in regular street clothes much the same as Johnny. Snakeskin boots, jeans, and a black t-shirt to be exact. You could tell his ribs were taped under his shirt.

Shelly: Thank you John. Shelly Simmons here with you again from the prison Carnage and Rude are going to be doing battle in. We have already heard from Rude, now I am standing here with Carnage.

Jolly: Uhhhhhh AHEMMMMMMMM!

Shelly: Sorry, Carnage and the man directing his big comeback documentary Jolly Rancher.

Jolly: That's Jolly Roger sweetheart.

Big Johnson: Hibbity Bibbity

Shelly rolls her eyes.

Shelly: And personal cameraman Big Dick.

Big Johnson: No correction needed there bitch. HOLLA!

Shelly: Anyways.......Carnage, you just arrived here not to long ago, but right before Rude arrived and said a few not so pleasant things about you. He basicly compared your career to a blackened void. He also called ya a slore. Your thoughts?

Carnage: Jesus, that's deep. I mean seriously, the guy is a regular Edgar Allen Poe. How can I even think of walking into that prison now with that hanging over my head. Man he has me pegged don't he?

Jolly: Carnage was mocking destiny as he spoke to the resident busy body. Deep down he knew the task at hand would not be easy. Yet he put on such a brave, easygoing, outer shell.

Carnage: Would you please shut it already? Look Shelly, I am not gonna stand here and say that I am what I used to be, cause I'm not. I'm in my 40's trying to hang on by the skin of my teeth. I know though that I have one last hurrah left in me. I know deep down inside I have enough left to go that one last extra mile. This Cage tournament isn't just for a title. It isn't just for the fame and fortune that comes along with it. For me, this tournament is to prove all the naysayers wrong. To stick my middle finger up to all the critics and say told ya so.

Shelly: How good would you feel knowing that not only would you be beating the man that created this tourney, but also you'd be beating another former One World Champion?

Carnage: I tell ya Shelly, it never really crossed my mind till the win against Matt sunk in. To be able to beat two former Ones right after the other, that right there would be an accomplishment all on it's own. For this old man to show two young fellas just how much gas the First ever One still has. It really is a nice thought.

Shelly: We all can see you as you stand here right now. The cuts, the bruises, the stitches. How are the effects of the previous round going to hinder you here tonight?

Carnage: You did see Rude right? The guy is pretty torn up himself to say the least. I would venture a guess and say that neither of us are going to be moving with cat like reflexes. It is going to come down to cunning, skill, and maybe just a few tricks of the trade if you catch my drift.

Carnage reaches down and pats his pants pocket that is holding the phone Future gave to him earlier.

Carnage: Rude has shown the wrestling world that he can be a great champion. There is no doubt about it. But tonight I show him why I am a legend.

Shelly: Thank you Carnage. I know you have to get inside, so I'll leave you to it. John, let's throw it back to you guys at the arena.


Paragon: Thank you Shelly. Well, Carnage certainly seems ready.

Hank: He damn well better be, cause you know Rude is going to pull out all the stops.

Paragon: Our cameras will be inside the prison following every bit of action so you fine folks at home and the people here at the arena can see what is sure to be another classic battle. As always, Hank and I will be calling it as we see it. Well I will call it as I see it, Hank will do the usual and warp it into his own rendition.

Hank: Just cause you don't see the truth in most matches doesn't mean you have to be jealous. Early prediction for this one, Rude hands down walks away with it.

Paragon: We shall see Hank. We shall see.


Back at the prison, the cellblock is unlocked once more, and Carnage is let inside along with Jolly Roger and Big Johnson. When the cellblock is locked behind them, Johnson gets the shudders.

Jolly: What's the matter big guy? Getting flashbacks?

Big Johnson: I'z only wish I had a 40 to pour for my homies that neva made it out of the joint.

Carnage: OH WOULD YOU KNOCK IT OFF! You probably never even been in prison before. Why don't you show the people how you really are Johnson? This is supposed to be realism afterall.

Jolly: CUT! Damnit Carnage, will you just let me do my job. We will have to do another edit in post Johnson. Carnage, you just concentrate on this match. Lord knows you need to.

Carnage: What the hell is that supposed to mean? Is there something you know that I don't?

Jolly: Now how would I know something that you don't? I am documenting this from your point of view remember? I'm just saying, this is a dangerous atmosphere and Rude is a very dangerous man from what I've seen in my short time here.

Carnage just shakes his head, and turns from the two men to carry on his search for Rude. Jolly looks over at Johnson and just smiles. As the three men continue their journey, strange figures moved in the shadows. Figures dressed in all black, and carrying weapons. Figures waiting for a signal. A signal that would change the landscape of the match.



Johnny Rude had been waiting for Carnage. The cellblock was fairly spacious, all things considered. And it was every bit the grimey, filthy, and dilapidated mess you'd imagine it to be. There were lights above, but the ones which weren't dim flickered on and off at random intervals. Carnage walked further into the block looking for his opponent. The block was divided into two floors. Six cells, three left and three right lined the walls of the first floor. At the end of the furthest wall were two stairs which led to a catwalk that connected the upper grouping of cells. Those, too, had roughly the same design. Johnny watched from the top floor.

He waited with all the patience of a stalking predator. What he was about to do was a huge risk. If he failed, then the match could end right then and there. And yet, here he was, trying to do something stupid. Rude watched with all his concentration. Finally, Ryan stopped at just the right spot. He'd never see Johnny coming. Rude grabbed onto the handrails which lined the walk way of the second floor. He pulled himself up until he stood at the top of the railing. The Antichrist Superstar took a deep breath and leaped off of the railing.

Carnage didn't expect a thing. That is, until he looked up and saw Johnny's body colliding painfully against the form of his opponent. Ryan Wiliamson cried out as both bodies crumpled to the ground. Jolly and Big Johnson backed a fair amount away. Neither man showed a sign of rising right away. Instead, they just lied there trying to recover from the impact. It had hurt Johnny almost as much as it did Carnage. He was happy though, that the stitches used to hold his bicep together stayed intact. He was sure that wouldn't last long.

Rude: Ugh….fuck you…Carnage. You’re not winning MY EVENT.

Carnage: Cheap bastard…figures…typical Johnny.

Rude: Just wait until I get up, you big bitch.

Carnage: I won’t have to.

Rude raised an eyebrow. What did he mea…his question was answered. Carnage sat up and grabbed him by the neck. The adrenaline Rude injected earlier was a bit slow to start. He could feel it beginning to work it’s magic though. Carnage held Johnny’s neck tightly in his clutches. He squeezed tightly while the other fist pounded into the scar tissue where his eye once was. With each hit, The King of Extreme let out a painful groan. He had to break the bastard’s hold. The problem was that he was losing air. The dim light made his limited vision an even bigger hinderance.

The adrenaline would be the only thing to keep him awake. Johnny’s hand frantically searched for something on the ground. He remembered, when he read the stipulation, that all sorts of cop gear was going to be scattered about the cell block. Fate would smirk upon him for the moment as his hand found a nightstick. Johnny grabbed a hold of it and slammed it into the right eye of his attacker. Almost immediately Carnage let out a curse and released his grip.

Now partially blinded, Carnage was swatting in the dark. Johnny scooted away on his but while he clutched the nightstick. He backed until his back hit the bars of a cell. Rude turned to them and used them to pull himself up. When he finally was up he turned around and saw Carnage coming for him. The man squinted his right eye. If The Antichrist Superstar had any luck, the eye would swell and even the playin field a bit, at least in the vision department.

The two wrestlers charged one another. Johnny swung the nightstick with every intention of cracking his opponent’s head open. Carnage grabbed the arm his foe swung and shoved it aside. This put Rude’s body at a very awkward angle. One which would allow The First One to drive a knee into his foe’s ribs. Johnny winced and nearly dropped the nightstick. A neck breaker from Carnage would send Johnny Rude right back down to the ground. He winced as his head spun from the strike. His heart was thudded several miles a minute. As much pain as his body was actually in, it seemed slightly less in a way. Rude thought that he could get up from this. That is, until he felt a hand grab a hold of his blonde locks. It would appear as though Carnage would do the man’s standing for him, in a sense. John and Hank watched the match from a live feed on the tron.

John: The match is still early, but Carnage seems to be proving that he’s every bit worth his status as a legend, Hank.

Hank: You’re right…in that the match is still EARLY! This is Rude’s event. He made it with his ability to win it in mind, I would think.

John: Oh, really? Then why is Carnage bashing his face into the bars of that cell, then?

Hank: It’s all a diversionary tactic, you’ll see. Rude’s playing possum!

Back in the prison…


Carnage: Ready to call it quits, pu-ARGH!

Rude drove an elbow into the man’s mouth. A tooth or two flew bloodily from his mouth. Rude turned his body and when he did, he used the momentum to bring the nightstick across the already swelling eye of Carnage. Had his accuracy been a bit tighter, he may have knocked the damn thing out completely. Instead, the blow merely send his foe to the ground. Blood began to trickle into his eye. He was busted open. Great. Carnage looked up and saw Jolly and Big Johnson.

Jolly: Our hero is on the ropes right now. Could Johnny be too much for him? Just look at the determination on his face! It’s remarkable he’s still standing. Remarkable, and at the same time, expected from one such as he. He is Carnage, and he is-

Carnage kicked back on instinct. In doing so, he managed to nail Johnny in the shin. This caused him to drop to a knee, and to drop the nightstick, while he clutched his leg in pain. He then looked up to the second floor. An idea came to mind. Rude smirked and began to limp toward the stairs. Carnage shook his head several times to try and shake the cobwebs. Once he was able to stand he turned and saw Johnny pulling himself up, mainly with his arms then his leg, to the second floor. Ryan wasn’t about to let the scrawny fucker get away THAT easily.

So he gave chase. He was a bit faster than Rude was, to be sure. Unlike Johnny, his legs worked just fine. It was his eye that was becoming the problem. The swelling was increasing and with every passing moment that this happened, his vision began to weaken in that eye. Still, ever the diligent warrior, he pressed on. Carnage met Rude at the top of the stairs. Johnny backed away as best he could. Was this true? Was Rude cowering before him? It seemed that way.

Carnage: Getting scared, Johnny? You should be.

Johnny: Look…you can back out of this now…and you won’t get hurt.

Carnage: Are you kidding me, kid? You can barely walk let alone fight me.

Johnny: Suit yourself, slore. I warned you.

Carnage silenced him with a right hook. Rude took it and staggered back. It was getting harder to stand. That said, everything was going according to plan. Johnny righted his posture as best he could and then threw a punch of his own. Sadly for him, it would miss it’s mark. Carnage’s next one, which would put Rude on the ground, didn’t miss. Johnny groaned and landed on his stomach. Once there, he began to reach into his pocket. In it he had a small bottle of red mist and a bottle of lighter fluid. The fluid would come to use later. He took the bottle of mist and downed it. Johnny felt a hand grab a hold of his hair. He lifted The Antichrist Superstar up once more. Johnny turned around and spat a torrent of red mist into the eyes of his opponent. Johnny smiles and takes a step back.


Rude watched as he swung around in the dark. And then phase two of his plan to end the match began. Johnny charged toward Carnage with every intent of knocking the man over the rail. He speared Carnage as best he could given the space. Their bodies collided, but it didn’t work out quite the way Johnny had planned. Instead of knocking his opponent over the railing, he sent BOTH of them over the rails and crashing toward the bottom floor below.


Paragon: OH MY GOD! Carnage and Rude just went tumbling from the second floor to the first. You could hear the smack of the concrete as they hit. That was just......

Hank: Awesome? Stupendous? Fantastic?

Paragon: I was gonna say sickening, but to each their own. These fans are roaring their approval. They wanted to see blood and mayhem, well they are getting it in spades. Both men aren't making any movements on the ground. It may be awhile before they do get up.

Hank: Wanna play gin?


Jolly Roger and Big Johnson head down the stairs to the first floor. Jolly commentating the whole way.

Jolly: Johnny Rude, the blood thirsty maniac, has layed his own life on the line just to get the advantage on his opponent. Now both men lay in a heap, broken bodies lying across one another. No pinfalls, no submissions, no countouts. This match only ends when a key is found, and we could be here all night. I hope to god their families aren't watching this spectacle of destruction. Spectacle of destruction.....hmmmmmm I should use that more. I like that.

Johnny Rude was the first man that started to stir. He raised his head and smiled wickedly at the broken form of Carnage. Of course he wasn't doing much better, but at the very least he could get a headstart on finding the key to escape this hell on earth. Johnny put his hands on the ground and pushed his way back up to his knees. He started to crawl, cause at this point it was all he thought he could handle. His leg was throbbing. This was Rude though afterall. He could handle any amount of pain Carnage threw at him. Or at least he was about to find out if he could.As Johnny crawled, he felt his ankle being grabbed. It couldn't be? Could it? That was what was going through his mind as he turned his head and saw what he most feared. Carnage had come back to reality and had ahold of him.

Johnny: Let go your fucking slore.

Carnage: I know you are but what am I?

Carnage started to yank back on Johnny's leg, pulling him closer to him. Carnage then took his elbow and jammed it hard into the back of Rude's knee. Rude screamed out in pain, as Carnage did it a second time. He was gonna cripple the one eyed fuck if it was the last thing he did. Carnage let Rude go as he held his leg in pain. Carnage climbed back to a standing position. His eye swelling up to epic proportions. Soon, he wouldn't even be able to see out of it. So he had to get off as much offense as he could beforehand. Once up, Carnage wiped some of the blood off of his face, and threw it onto Rude justo to show him what he thought of the man. He then reached down and grabbed Rude by that already hurt leg once more.

Jolly: This is amazing. Somehow these two men have found the will to go on. I don't know how they did it. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was the need to win. At any rate, for these two warriors, the battle rages on. Damn I'm good.

Carnage drags Rude over to one of the cells. Once there he slams Rude's leg into the bars. Once again Rude is in some serious pain. He was now hoping beyond hope that the shot he took earlier would fully kick in, and soon. Carnage placed Rude's leg inside the cell, while the rest of Rude layed outside it. Carnage grabbed the cell door and looked down at Rude.

You may have ruined everyone's lives you have come into contact with, but I will NOT be one of them. Fuck off and die johnny Rude.

With all the force Carnage could muster, he slammed the cell door closed right onto Johnny's knee. People around the world watching winced in pain.

Big Johnson: Oh fo shizzle dog.


Paragon: Unless Johnny Rude is the bionic man, there is no way in this or any other world he is getting up from that. Carnage would crawl his way through the place now and find the key if he had to. Johnny wouldn't catch him.

Hank: Are you kidding me? How many Johnny Rude fights have you called?

Paragon: Plenty why?

Hank: Obviously not enough if you think he still doesn't have it in him to win. This is Johnny fucking Rude we are talking about. He always finds a way. Always.


Carnage was leaning against the cell looking down at Rude. He saw the pain etched on the Antichrist Superstars face.

Rude: Uggggg, you fuckin......you're gonna......pay for this.

Carnage: God damn you Rude. You never change. No matter who comes into your life, you never change. You always have to be the tough guy. You always have to be the emotionless one. You're pathetic, and I am getting the hell out of here.

Carnage started to make his search for the key. Johnny could be heard screaming in the background as Carnage walked away.


Johnny felt the pain in his knee lesson slighly. Something was definitly torn. He started to wonder if he needed another shot to counteract what just happened. Johnny slowly sat up, and reached for the cell door. grabbing it, he pulled it open releasing his leg. Painfully, he crawled his way out. It was then that he made his first try at standing back up. It was unsuccessful.

Johnny: Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck......

Carnage walked from cell to cell. Turning over beds. Looking inside toilets. Checking every nook and cranny. He was coming up empty handed. He couldn't seem to find anything resembling a key. In the background Jolly continued to have Johnson film. He walked over and whispered something into his ear. Johnson just nodded and kept filming. Then it happened. Jolly raised his fist high into the air. As Carnage came out from one of the cells he had been checking, he felt a sharp pain on the back of his neck and fell to the ground. A man in a ski mask all in black appeared out of nowhere with a lead pipe in hand. Instead of leaving Carnage lie, he got onto the big man and started to choke Carnage out with the pipe.

Jolly: An unexpected development folks. It seems Johnny and Carnage aren't alone. An assailant has come and is now attacking Carnage. I feel I must move back a bit from this scene, for my life might be in danger. However did this man get in here?

Jolly knew though. This was one of three men he hired off of the street. Three hired hitmen to make sure that the film he intended to shoot, got done properly. He had some underground clients that were willing to pay handsomely for a snuff film, and even more so when the one being snuffed was a big shot like Carnage. With Rude bankrolling this endeavor, all of these men were looking to make some major bank if it was pulled off correctly. Plus it was made sure it wouldn't be traced back to Rude himself. That and he would have a hell of a nice souviner tape at the end of the day which made for a perfect deal for Rude. As Rude tried to get up again, he saw the plan start to come to fruitation. Again he lips curved into an evil smile.



Rude was in intense pain. No, that wasn't quite right. He was in searing agony. No, no, not the proper phrase. Truth be told, there wasn't one for what he was feeling right now. He looked down at his knee and saw nothing but a large and bloody bruise. The only sensation he felt was utter torture. There would be no walking with this. No, the leg was out of the fight. Thankfully for Johnny, he had a spare. One he fully intended on using. The Antichrist Superstar rolled onto his stomach. The adrenaline in his veins was all that kept him conscious at this point. He watched as Jolly and Big Johnson began recording the film he had planned. A grin curved his lips.

Yes, this would definitely be a once in a lifetime experience. People were watching all over the country. Hell, they were tuning in at several different points in the world. And Rude was an entertainer, was he not? So who was he to begrudge his public the sight of watching one of their heroes die before their very eyes? And during a match, no less. Now THAT was the way his kind was supposed to die. On their feet, like warriors, not on their knees like some kind of weakened animal. He rolled onto his stomach and looked ahead of him. Three of the six cells or so had been searched. That made things marginally easier.

Carnage wasn’t having a very good night. One of the mysterious thugs held him fast while the other two, having been ordered by Jolly to come out from their hiding place, pummeled him. The man tried his best to put up a respectable fight. He even managed to kick one of the thugs in the groin. The man cried out and dropped to his knees. Another kick from Carnage and that man was out. Sadly for him though, Carnage was still being held by one thug and attacked by another. Johnny watched with a great deal of delight racing within him. He crawled deliberately slow toward the scene. He stopped just sort of the collected group and spoke.

Johnny: Wow…I couldn’t have planned this better myself. Oh, wait, I did.

Carnage: God damn you, Johnny! This isn’t over! I swear I’ll-OFFF!

Jolly Rodger, of all people, drove a knee into the man’s gut. Carnage doubled over from the attack. Jolly drove an elbow into the face of his former documentary subject. The thug released his grip on the legend and let him fall to the ground. He looked up through his blood-matted hair and saw that Jolly Rodger’s physique was more impressive than the slightly loose fitting clothing he wore would suggest. Jolly drove a knee into the man’s face and sealed the deal on the ever swelling eye. The final blow would take away 50% of his sight, at least for the rest of the match.

Rodger signaled to the thug. The man nodded and held Carnage again. The second thug stood at the ready. The “film maker” grabbed Carnage by his hair. He pulled him up and spat in his bad eye.

Jolly: Now Carnage…did you really THINK I was making a RESPECTABLE movie…about you? Ha! As if anyone would watch that horseshit!

Big Johnson: I concur with this!

Jolly: God damnit, what did I tell you about on camera?

Big Johnson: Oh, rights massah, I’s is sowwy.

Jolly: Better. Now, Carnage, I know a lot of things must be racing through your head. More specifically, you’re wondering, “Why, Jolly, why!?”

Carnage spits in his face and lets out a curse. Jolly’s jaw tenses. He wipes the spittle from his face with a tissue. He then jabs his thumb into the swollen mound that is Carnage’s eye.

Carnage: Arrghh! Christ!

Jolly: Now, now, Ryan…acting like a “tough guy” won’t stop the inevitable.

Rude: That’s right, faggot, you’re flushed. It’s over, I’ve wo-

And then, something unexpected happened. Jolly looked to his second hench person. He nodded and that person proceeded to slam his boot into Rude’s jaw. Johnny cried out and hit the floor. He felt a mix of confusion and pain. A sensation he was all too familiar with. Rude tried to stand but only felt a sharp, agonizing pain from his leg for his troubles. The hench person reached into his belt. Carnage tried to fight off the one who held him, but received a hard fist to the back of his neck for his troubles.

Johnny looks up and stares down the barrel of a gun. The wielder is none other than the second henchman. Rude looked past him and at his partner in crime, Jolly. The man was all smiles. He stood behind Carnage with his arms crossed over his chest.

Rude: What…the…fuck, Jolly? We had a god damn deal!

Jolly: Well…you know, deals change. I’m an artist, Johnny. I can’t control what…inspires me. And right now, I’m feeling pretty fuckin’ inspired.

Rude: Oh, you should be. You should be damned inspired for the unholy ass whooping I’m gonna give you in a sec-ARGH!

The barrel of the gun slammed against his face. Rude groaned and lied on the ground. He stayed immobile this time. He had to conserve energy and think. Thinking was the only way he was going to get out of this in one piece. Meanwhile, Carnage lied limp in the arms of his captor. This was deliberate. He saw the glint of the gun through his hair. He used the hair to hide his face while he too, came up with a plan. If they thought him unconscious, then they wouldn’t worry about him much. Carnage just needed Johnny to keep talking. Anything to distract the bastard.

Rude: So why are you screwing me, then? Someone make you a better offer?

Jolly shook his head. Rude just didn’t get it. No one did. Such is the way of the starved artist. No one understood his works until it was far too late. He paced a little and spoke. As he did, he gesticulated wildly.

Jolly: As I said, Johnny, I’m an artist. I go where my vision, my PASSION takes me. And I just thought, well…what would make a better film? Killing The FIRST One World Champion, Carnage…or killing TWO One World Champions? Two relics of the past, sure, but the purists out there will love to see it.

Rude: You sneaky bastard. You really think I’ll let this happen? I’m The Antichrist SuperSTAAARRRGHHH!!

The thug grabbed his arm. He took Rude’s pinky, which was in a splint, and twisted it. God damn Hairy and his pension for breaking tiny fingers. The Rudeness’ began to grind at his teeth to try and fight back the screams which threatened to flood from his mouth. Jolly watched with a genuinely pleased look on his face. He spoke again.

Jolly: You heard me, two relics. That’s what you both are. Fantastic in your perspective primes, to be sure. But honestly…what the FUCK have EITHER of you done to warrant any other labeling?

Carnage: ….

Jolly glanced at him. He was out. That’s what it looked like, anyway. He was a bit disappointed that Ryan wouldn’t be alive for his master stroke, but, that was okay. He’d be awake for the most important part, in any case. This time, it was Johnny’s turn to speak.

Rude: I swear to Satan…if you DON’T finish the job Jolly…I will FUCKING end you!

This caused the man to laugh. It was something like out of some kind of cartoon where the villain laughs over his imminent triumph. Only this wasn’t a cartoon. This was real and it was a very real possibility that they were both going to die. That is, until Carnage snapped to life. He had been staring at the ground for quite some time while Rude and Jolly had been posturing. The nightstick Rude had been using earlier rested not far from him. And so, after planning out just what he’d do, he struck. Carnage managed to first pull himself free from the now-lax henchman’s grasp.

One henchman was already down and out thanks to his earlier kicks. He grabbed the club and turned around. He slammed the club as best he could into the head of his captor, the hench man. Sadly, due to the whole eye thing, he hit the guy in the neck. This proved to still be pretty effective, as the man’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he lost consciousness. Carnage felt the second thug try and apply a sleeper hold. This was nixed in short order as The First One jabbed him again and again in the ribs with the stick. He then turned around and bashed the club across the thug’s chin. Three down, two to go.

Carnage was feeling good. He was hitting his second wind. At least, that’s what it looked like. Until he turned around and felt a taser jab him in the chest. Rude watched as electricity coursed through Carnage’s body. He cried out and fell to the ground in a heap. Consciousness swam away from him, leaving him stranded in darkness. Rude went to speak when Jolly kicked him in the face, also rendering Rude unconscious. Jolly panted and adjusted his tie.

Jolly: Well…that was exciting, wasn’t it?

Big Johnson: If yous say so. Now whut we gonna do?

Jolly observes the scene. He finds the gun. The man stoops down and picks it up. He then points it at both men and speaks.

Jolly: Now? Now, we’re going to finish the film…


Paragon: Fans, I am not quite sure how to explain what we are seeing and hearing right now. It seems that things have gone really wrong in this matchup. What our cameras are picking up doesn't quite make sense to me.

Hank: I am at a loss. Usually I could spin this into what I think is going on, but even I am confused at this point.

Paragon: This is what we know for sure. Carnage and Rude were engaged in a very brutal war. This so called film maker named Jolly Roger was filming the whole thing in what was supposed to be a documentary about Carnage's big comeback. That broke down though into something much different as three mysterious men surfaced and started attacking Carnage. Then just when you think it can't get any weirder, jolly joins in and Rude is taken out as well. Now it seems both Carnage and Rude are at the mercy of this madman.

Hank: I don't wanna say what I think I heard. The audio doesn't quite pick up everything being said by these men, but if my ears were correct, and I hope they weren't, then I think I actually heard the term snuff film at one point.

Paragon: If that is true, then I am demanding someone in the PB take notice of these transpiring events and get someone down to that prison to put a stop to this right this minute. Jolly seems to be directing traffic right now.

Stan Daniels
Stan Daniels

Posts : 88
Join date : 2011-01-20

View user profile

Back to top Go down


Post  Stan Daniels on Wed Jan 26, 2011 3:17 pm


Jolly: Give me that camera Johnson. Get Rude up first and tie him to the bars of that cell over there.

Johnson nods not saying a word. He hands Jolly the camera and goes to grab Rude. Jolly still had the gun in one of his hands, while he held the camera in the other. On the ground Carnage's eyes started to flutter.

Inside Carnage's head.....

Carnage found himself standing in an empty ring. No crowd, no announcers, no refs, no ringside crew, no Rude, nothing. Just him standing in the ring.

Voice: So this is how you plan on going huh?

Carnage: What? Who's saying that?

Voice: You are stronger than this. You can fight this. You need to wake up before it's too late.

Carnage: I don't understand any of this. All I wanted to do was prove my worth. I wanted to show the world that I am still the Carnage of old. Somehow this whole thing turned into a life or death situation. Somehow things got way out of hand.

A fog rose up from under the ring. Carnage looked on as the voice he was hearing manifested itself from the fog.

Carnage: Nighthawk? But how?

Nighthawk: Some things need not explaining. It is not hard to understand how things spiraled so far out of control. All one needs to do is look directly at my brother. Mayhem and destruction follow him wherever he goes. At one point I thought I saw a glimmer of hope within him, but now I know differently.

Carnage: So what do I do?

Nighthawk: Whatever you feel is in your heart. I am just a manifestation inside your mind. Once you wake up, I am no more.

Carnage thought for a moment. Then it came to him......

Carnage: THE PHONE! THAT'S IT! I can use the phone Rev gave me. I am sure that whatever secret it holds to destroy Rude, it could also destroy Jolly and his gay band of merry men.

Nighthawk: Rev warned you not to use it untill it was a last resort. I highly recommend you take that advice, and come up with another plan first.

Carnage: Maybe I can reach him then. I saw Rude's last match against Hairy, and saw the glimmer of a human being coming from within him.

Nighthawk: I would of been the first one to support that theory awhile back, but it's all a front so he can get ahead. Johnny Rude will always be Johnny Rude, and I feel nothing can change that.

Carnage: Then how do you explain Eve?

Even the great knowing Nighthawk couldn't answer that one. Whether it was really him or not, he stood silent. Carnage nodded knowing what he must do.

Carnage: I gotta try or else we are both gonna die.

Nighthawk: Then go and try. God be with you Ryan.

And just as magically as he appeared, he backed back up into the fog again and disappeared.

Back into the real world......

Jolly: Good man Johnson. Is he nice and tight?

Big Johnson: Yesum, he sure is.....oh you know what screw the ignorant black man facade. The whole world knows what is going on now. Fed X cameras have us live for christ sakes.

Jolly: Fine, whatever. It can all be edited in post anyhow.

Big Johnson: Aren't you worried at all about being caught? This is being seen by alot of people.

Jolly: You know nothing about this business do you? To all these idiot fans watching this broadcast, this is all apart of the show. One big happy ass storyline that doesn't mean anything once the cameras stop rolling. By the time everyone figures out how real this is, we will be on a beach in Mexico counting all our money. Here, take this back.

Jolly hands the camera back to Johnson. Rude had been tied to the bars with bedsheets from the beds inside a few of the cells. His head hung low still out of it. Jolly leans down next to Carnage, and reaches into his pocket.

Big Johnson: What are you doing?

Jolly finds what he is looking for and pulls out the cellphone Rev gave him earlier in the night.

Jolly: Just making sure there are no more surprises.

The three henchmen that had been put down earlier were starting to rise to their feet again. All five men hovered over Carnage with malicious intent in their eyes.

Jolly: Now I want you men to finish the job on Carnage. One of you make sure Rude is awake to see this. I want him to know what is coming.

One of the masked men walk over and slap Rude in the face. he starts to stir as he is slapped once more. He is finally startled awake.

Rude: What the fuck? Goddamnit, let me down from here. I am gonna fuckin kill you Jolly.

Jolly: Tsk tsk, watch that potty mouth of yours Rude baby. I don't know why you aren't smiling. You are gonna become a bonafide legend when this match is over with. You and Carnage will go down in history as martyers.

Rude: The last thing I wanna do is die with this overgrown piece of......

The sentence was never finished though. Carnage had opened his eyes and grabbed a nearby can laying on the ground. He pulled the pin on the top of it, and used his shirt to cover his face. Smoke billowed out covering everyone. Jolly and the rest started tearing up and coughing uncontrollably. Rude closed his mouth and eye while holding his breath. It was the best he could do seeing as his hands were tied to the bars. The tear gas continued to do it's job as Carnage used the distraction to his advantage. He got back to his feet still covering his face. He made his way through the smoke over to Rude. Carnage took off his shirt and continued to hold it over his mouth. He was having a hard time seeing as it was, but now it was even harder. He unfastened Rude's binds on his wrists. With his arms now free, Rude also took his shirt off and covered up his face. While he did this, Carnage undid Rude's legs as well.

Carnage: Listen to me you son of a bitch. Whether you like it or not we are in this together. These men are not fucking around. We need to incompacitate them, and I need your help in doing it.

Rude: Go fuck your mother.

Carnage: Rude, I know there is something inside of you that wants to live. I know there has to be at least one person you wanna see once more before you die.

Rude: I am Johnny fuckin Rude. I care not for anything or........

Carnage: Eve.

The color drained from Rude's face. That was the one name that let down his defenses.

Carnage: Now are you with me or not? If we can get these guys in this cell before they overcome the tear gas, then we can lock them inside and not have to worry about them anymore. Then we can finish this thing once and for all. What do ya say?



In light of the situation, Rude didn't have very long to think over Carnage's offer. The tear gas was quickly clearing out, and the bad guys were starting to recover.

Carnage: Alright Rude, it's now or never buddy.

Rude: Don't you ever fucking call me buddy again. Let's just get this over with so I can get back to kicking your ass. Then when this match is over, I will deal with that backstabbing bitch Jolly personally.Oh and Carnage, one more thing.

Carnage: Yeah?

Rude: You ever mention Eve again, and I'll gut you where you stand.

Carnage just smiled and nodded his head. Both men tied their shirts around their heads making sure their mouths and nose were still covered.


Paragon: Folks, if we are seeing things right, then it appears as though Carnage and Rude are working together now to put an end to this intrusion in the match. All I can say to that is thank god.

Hank: Thank god? Really? Rude is tarnishing his rep and all you can say is thank god?

Paragon: Saving his life is worth more than a little blemish on the rep Hank.

Hank: Says you bucko. He should of just let them kill him. At least then he would of died with dignity.

Paragon: I don't know why I continue to put up with you. Carnage and Rude tossing each man into the cramped cell. The three masked men are tossed in now, but not before a few right hands from the two combatants. Now it looks as though Big Johnson is going in.

Hank: This is hurting my eyes, please god make this teamup stop.


Jolly Roger was the last one to go. Rude had knocked the gun out of his hand as Carnage headbutted him right on the bridge of the nose. Blood started oozing out of Jolly's nose, as he was tossed into the other four men. All of them continued to cough and rub their eyes as the cell door closed. Once they were inside, Rude collapsed to the ground again. He had lost balance while shifting all his weight to his good leg. Carnage leaned over and took a deep breath. Once again he had to wipe the blood from his face. His eye was now closed to the point where seeing wasn't even an option anymore.

Rude: How's it feel to be a one eyed dog bitch?

Carnage: You bastard.

Not wanting to waste another second, Carnage reaches down and grabs Rude by the hair. Rude answers by delivering an uppercut right into Carnage's jaw. Carnage releases Rude and stumbles backwards. Rude looks and sees the gun Jolly had earlier. Meanwhile, back inside the cell.....

Jolly: cough...cough....Son of a bitch. I can't believe this shit. We had it, it was gonna happen. Them BLAMMO, it blows up in our faces.

Big Johnson: It may not be a total lost cause. Even through all of that horse shit, I was still able to retain the camera. And it sure looks like a death might still happen. Take a look at Rude.

Jolly: He's grabbing the gun. He is actually grabbing the gun. Get this on tape. I'll settle for one of them if I can't have both. Hell, maybe we will get lucky and it will turn into a murder suicide.

Carnage squinted his good eye. What he saw made him step back a few paces. Rude was standing right in front of him aiming the gun at his chest. He had a balancing act going on as he tried to stay upright.

Carnage: Hold on, just wait one fucking minute. You're gonna stand there and shoot me even after all that we have been through?

Rude: Ehhhh, it's what I do.

Rude pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He tried once more, and once again nothing.

Rude: What the happy horse shit.....

Rude looked behind him at Jolly who was watching from behind bars. Jolly just shrugged his shoulders and looked over at Big Johnson.

Jolly: I thought you loaded the gun?

Big Johnson: I thought you loaded it?

Jolly: I distinctly asked you when we got in the car, did you load the fuckin gun. And you said yesum.

Big Johnson: OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH, That is what you asked me? I thought you asked me if I had shot my load while sitting in the sun.

Jolly: What the hell? Why would I ask that?

Big Johnson: I was wondering that myself. It seemed like kind of a personal question to me, but I figured you knew best.

Jolly: Goddamnit......

Jolly slammed his fist on the sink that was next to the toilet. The next thing he heard was a clinging sound. Jolly looked down at the floor and saw a shiny metal key laying there with tape on it. Jolly leaned down and picked it up.

Masked Man 1: What's that boss?

Jolly: I'll tell you what this is. It's our one way ticket out of here.

Jolly had inadvertantly found the key that would open up the cell block. It had been taped under the sink. Carnage and Rude had no idea though as they continued to fight on the outside. Carnage had speared Rude back down to the concrete once he was sure he didn't have any bullets. Carnage reigned down right hands, trying to knock Rude out.


Carnage: Shut the fuck up.

Jolly: Ok, I guess then you don't want this little old key I found.

Rude pushed Carnage off of him and stared at him with a groggy eye.

Rude: You didn't search that cell yet? Are you fucking kidding me? Are you a complete dumbass?

Carnage: I thought I did check that one I swear.

Jolly: It looks to me like we are about to play "Let's Make A Deal". Now the question is, who wants it more?

To add insult to injury, Jolly does something completely unexpected and disgusting. He pulls his pants down. He shows the key to the two combatants one last time, then very carefully reaches down the back of his underwear. He could be seen and heard groaning a bit as he places the key in the safest spot he could find.


Hank: Please John tell me that Jolly didn't do what I think he just did?

Paragon: I do believe he did Hank. Jolly just inserted that key up his butt.

Hank: Oh the humanity of it all.

Paragon: I don't even wanna imagine how the rest of this one is gonna play out.


Carnage: Well Johnny, it's been fun. Go ahead and be my guest. Get the key. I'll just take a seat here and be sick.

Rude: I fucking hate you Ryan.



It was quite a fix to be in. And worse yet, Johnny Rude was having a hard time thinking at the moment. Little jets of pain danced around his kneecap in an ever unrelenting pattern. Most of his weight was on his uninjured leg, which meant that his mobility was cut in half. Which was a sure sign of death for him in a combat situation, as he relied so heavily on his speed and agility. Rude leaned against the bars of the cell and looked at Jolly and company. They were trapped with no visible means of escape. The only problem was that Rude and Carnage’s way out of the prison lied in the asshole of Rodger himself. What to do…what to do…

This time, it was Johnny who took a seat. Carnage leaned against a wall which divided two cells. He closed his eye and tried to fight the urge to tear up from the pain he was in. He knew that if he had a few moments to collect himself, then perhaps he would be able to somehow turn this around. If Rude took the key from Jolly all Carnage would have to do then was take the key from Rude. And in The Antichrist Superstar’s current state, that couldn’t be TOO hard of a task, could it? Johnny glared at Jolly with all the hate his one eye could muster.

Jolly: So, are we ready to negotiate yet?

Rude: I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but, I’m an American. We don’t negotiate with terrorists.

Jolly: Terrorist? Where the hell are you getting this from? I’m a god damn artist! I was about to perform my masterpiece when that tubby bitch got involved.

Rude: You’re right about one thing…he IS a tubby bitch.

Carnage: HEY! I’m not too beaten that I won’t whoop your one-legged, one eyed ass, Rude. Heh, you know Johnny, all you need is a parrot and the ensemble would be complete. And it isn’t even Halloween yet.

Something about Carnage’s words struck a chord with him. It wasn’t the kind of feeling one would expect, though. At first, yes, he did feel the first pangs of seething rage but then he found something else. It was if his mind stumbled upon a hidden gem of knowledge. A smile slowly slithered across the lips of one Johnny B. Rude. His realization was this: He didn’t need the key. And so he painfully pulled himself up. Once on his feet, The Rudeness crooked his finger toward Jolly. The film maker took a few steps closer.

Perhaps this was a foolish move on his part. That said, he figured Rude couldn’t hurt him too much. After all, as long as he had the key, they would do ANYTHING to ensure that his safety was at hand. Otherwise, they’d be trapped in the prison and then unable to win the match or leave. It was simply a matter of patience, or so he thought. The fist of Johnny B. Rude slammed into his mouth. Not his chin or his jaw but the mouth itself. Several of his teeth flew from the gums and went down his throat. Jolly gurgled from pain and fell on his ass. Big Johnson went to check on him.

Carnage saw this and was NOT pleased!

Carnage: Are you a complete and total MORON!? He is our ticket OUT of here!

Rude: Was he really? I don’t know about all that, Ryan. There are other ways out, you know.

Carnage slowly stood. It hurt, but the level of pissed off that he had presently reached superseded that. Johnny met him in the center of the block, his bad leg dragging behind him. The two stared down at one another with all the hatred a pair of cyclopean wrestlers could muster. Rude chuckled and spoke.

Rude: You really don’t get it…do you, Carnage?

Carnage: No, actually, I don’t. I don’t see WHY you’d knock our only way of getting out of here on his ass. That seriously puts a dent in any kind of negotiation for the key.

Rude: I don’t need the key, you dumb shit.

Carnage: What the hell does that mea-

Johnny slammed his head into the side of Carnage’s face where his eye had swollen shut. A part of his forehead brushed against the swollen mass. Ryan cried out and began to stagger back. Had Rude been able to access his full mobility, he would have been able to follow up with a very nice kick to the ribs or chest or stomach. Instead, he threw a hard right cross into the man’s ribs. Ryan winced, but then he did something Johnny didn’t expect. He grabbed a hold of the arm his foe used to punch. The King of Extreme gave Carnage a confused glance before The First OWC hurled Johnny back-first into a closed prison cell.

Johnny: Argh!

Carnage: What the hell is your problem!? Do you WANT to stay here?

Johnny didn’t give him an answer yet. In a way, Carnage really didn’t give him much of an option for one. He kept kicking the creator of the KoTC again and again in the ribs and head. Johnny threw his arms up to try and defend himself. Sadly for him, it did very little in the ways of actually protecting him. One of the stray kicks managed to land right into Rude’s damaged knee. He let out a cry of pain so intense that it echoed all over the abandoned prison. Williamson picked up his opponent again and slammed him against the cell. His hands squeezing on Johnny’s arms to try and keep them steady.

Carnage: Tell me, RIGHT NOW! Tell me why!?

Rude: Because…..

And Rude did something else Carnage didn’t expect. He bit the nose of The First One. Carnage groaned as blood began to run from the open wounds. Johnny wrapped his legs around the torso of Carnage and began shaking his head from side to side like some kind of animal. Omega’s partner slammed several fists into the ribs and head of Johnny Rude but they didn’t seem to effect him much. It was if the man was some kind of possessed beast. Carnage shook from the left and right to try and break Rude’s hold from him. Finally, he slammed him into yet another cell.

The grip of Rude loosened. As soon as it did, Carnage was ready for some payback. One hand went to his nose while the other clocked The Rudeness right in his good eye. The Antichrist Superstar fell to the ground from the force of the blow. A mixture of Carnage’s blood and his own saliva dripped from his now blood-stained mouth. Rude panted several times to try and re-gain himself. He did, but it didn’t seem to matter much at the moment. This was because the man who beat Matt McDervish lifted Johnny up off of the ground and over his head.

At first, Carnage wasn’t sure what to do with The Rudeness. He then decided that tossing him into the air would be sufficient. Rude cried out, his limbs flailing, before falling to the hard pavement with a crumpling sound. Rude’s world spun as he tried to regain himself. He had a plan, and it was a good one, but he had to actually be able to DO it first. Which seemed like something Carnage wasn’t going to let him do. Already he could feel the man’s hand coiling around his hair. And so he wrapped both arms around Carnage’s leg after pulling up his pants leg a tad, and bit down.

Carnage: Aarrrghhh!! What the fuck!? Who bites someone?

Rude: *grinding teeth* I do, bitch!

He had enough. He grabbed Rude and slammed him up against another cell door. This time, he lifted Rude off of his feet. Carnage glared angrily into the eye of Rude. Johnny simply chuckled.

Carnage: Now, tell me what the HELL is your problem!?

Rude: Uh, Ryan? Can you do me a fave, good friend of mine?

Carnage: Does it involve snapping your neck for being a dumb shit?

Rude: No, maybe later. But seriously, look down.

Carnage did so. What he saw surprised and infuriated him. Amongst all the discarded pig tools was something that he never wanted Rude to find. It was also something Johnny had used time and time again and it always seemed to serve him well: A pair of handcuffs. One end was cuffed around his wrist and the other was to the bar of a cell he had been slammed against.

Carnage: Wh-what did you-

A head butt from Rude silenced him. Johnny fell to the floor in a heap. He lied there for a few seconds and let the relief wash over him. Well, it was a sort of relief in that he wasn’t actively being hit anymore. He still hurt like the blue blazes. He then crawled away from his opponent until he was just out of reach. Johnny pushed himself up, remembering to place most of his weight onto his good leg. He then turned around and looked at Carnage. The man’s face was the very picture of puzzlement. Rude reached into his pocket and produced the lighter fluid he had earlier. He then squeezed it for all he was worth around Carnage’s feet.

Johnny reached into his pocket once more for a box of matches.

Carnage: Johnny…Johnny stop, stop right now!

Rude: Don’t you get it, Ryan? If I start this fire…the smoke will come out of the windows, and, seeing it, everyone outside, the security people included, will rush into the building to save us.

Jolly watched all of this from his cell, which was across from the one Carnage was cuffed to. Just out of reach.

Jolly: Unless we all die of smoke inhalation first.

Rude: That IS possible. I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?

Johnny struck the first match and tossed it to the ground.

What would Carnage do?


Hank: Jesus, he is going to burn Carnage alive. And here I am far away from the action and without my marshmallows.

Paragon: This isn't funny. Not in the least. Johnny Rude has cracked up before our very eyes. Jolly Roger has pushed him to far.

Hank: Oh and I'm sure Carnage had nothing to do with it huh?

Paragon: Carnage is only out there doing his job, while Jolly has no business anywhere near this match. I once again would like to plead to the PB, get down there and stop this match before it's too late. Somebody is going to die out there.


Omega had seen enough. He had watched from the Destructive End lockeroom hoping beyond hope that Carnage would be able to overcome this. But now, things seemed very bleak.

Omega: Fuck this. If nobody else is willing to get off their ass and do something about this, then I'll just have to do it.

Omega got himself up and made his way his way to the door. He opened it, and got a kick to his mouth. Omega flew backwards and fell through the endtable standing nearby. Through a hazy fog, Omega saw Holland appear over him. Syren was next to him as well.

Holland: Now where do you think your going son?

Omega tried to get up, but Holland delivered another kick to his head. He then reached down and slammed it against the ground a few times untill finally he was knocked out.

Holland: Nice as always to see ya Omega.

Syren: Now what?

Holland: Now we kick up our feet, enjoy the luxuries of this fine lockeroom, and watch the rest of Carnage's destruction. BURN BABY BURN!


Carnage: Shit....shit...shit.

The first match had hit the ground. Luckily though it had gone out before it could catch the fluid on fire. Carnage looked in Rude's eyes and saw nothing but hatred and blackness.

Carnage: Rude, listen to me. It doesn't have to be like this. There are other ways.

Rude: Oh no Ryan, there aren't. That fuckin flamer over in that cell decided to play Richard Gere with that damn key, now I am doing what I have to do to get out of here.

Rude decided that he needed more fluid. He took the container and squeezed again. This time it covered Carnage's boots, and part of his jeans. Rude went to light another match.

Big Johnson: Do you see what is going on? Rude is willing to kill all of us. Just give him the damn key already so this can all be over with.

Jolly: I am the artist here. I'll make the rules. You better be filming this. A man is about to go up in flames, and that right there is gonna be a hell of a buy rate.

Big Johnson: You're a damn fool Jolly. A damn fool.

Jolly: You're still filming aren't ya? So who is the bigger fool. The one that leads or the one that follows.

Johnson gritted his teeth and shook his head. Back outside the cell, Johnny held the lit match up in front of Carnage's face.

Rude: How's it feel knowing that with one little flick of my wrist, your whole world will go up in flames? How does it feel to know that one man holds either life or death right in the palm of his hands? You told me earlier that I couldn't fuck up your life like I have so many others. Now what do you have to say about it?

Carnage lowered his head in defeat. There wasn't much else he could do at this point. Well all except for one thing. Carnage blew out the match, took his free hand, pulled Rude in close, and kissed him. Everyone watching in the arena and all around the world gasped at the sight. This went on for about a minute untill Carnage finally let him go. Rude stumbled back from Carnage with a startled expression on his face, and fell right on his ass.

Rude: What the fruity fuck was all that about? I never knew you to be like that. Yeah, I sometimes have my bi moments, but I wouldn't touch your tubby ass with a ten foot pole.

All Carnage could do was just smile. He smiled as he felt a wave of energy start to circulate through him. The adrenaline was starting to pump hard through his veins.

Rude: What the fuck you smiling at? Goddamnit, I asked you a question.

Carnage lowered his eyes downward. Rude followed them down till his eyes widened with shock. Rude saw a syringe sticking out of Carnage's inner thigh. Rude immediatly started searching his pockets.

Carnage: What's the matter hot stuff? Looking for something?

Rude: You couldn't of. That was my last one you fuckin slore.

Once again Carnage smiled. The fluid that has resided in that syringe was slowly working it's way through him. Carnage looked over at the handcuffs, then back at Rude. Staring at Rude the whole time, Carnage used every ounce of strength inside of his body, and pulled the handcuffs from the cell breaking them. Even though the other end was still attached to Carnage, he was now free again. Carnage wasn't about to give Rude another chance at trying to kill him. He went and dropkicked Rude right in the face. The matches and lighter fluid went flying. Carnage looked around the floor and grabbed a police helmet. Rude sat back up only to receive the helmet right upside his head. Carnage tossed the helmet to the side, and lifted Rude back up again. He grabbed him by the throat, and lifted him into the air. He held him there with a sickened smile on his face. He then planted Rude hard onto the ground with a chokeslam.


Paragon: Carnage looks to be a bit peeved.

Hank: Now who's the one to go insane John? Now we definitly need a member of the PB to stop this.

Paragon: Oh you would say that. What's Carnage doing now? He is taking off his leather belt and folding it in half. Carnage now turning Rude over onto his stomach, and he appears to be ripping a bandage off of Rude's back.

Hank: That bandage is covering some severe burns the man suffered at the hands of Hairy. This isn't right.

Paragon: Carnage lifting that belt to the heavens.



Rude screamed for all he was worth as he felt the leather belt slap against his badly burned body.


Carnage once again nailed Rude right between the shoulder blades, opening up his wounds. Puss started to come out all over the place. A few of the masked henchmen inside the cell had to turn away from the sight.

Jolly: If any of you fuckers throw up, so help me god.....


Again Carnage went to town. By now Rude could barely stay awake. He wanted to pass out in the worst way. To let the pain just wash over him and take him away to someplace where he wouldn't feel it anymore.


For the first time in what had to be a very long time, Carnage didn't care anymore. He didn't seem like he wanted to stop. Whip after whip, Carnage tore into Rude's flesh. Watching it fly off of him and hit the floor like it was a slaughterhouse. With each crack of his belt, and scream Johnny made, it gave him goosebumps. Carnage was definitly wrong about saying Rude wouldn't change his life. Rude had changed it, and Carnage was liking it.



Stan Daniels
Stan Daniels

Posts : 88
Join date : 2011-01-20

View user profile

Back to top Go down


Post  Stan Daniels on Wed Jan 26, 2011 3:18 pm


How did this keep happening? It seemed to be a recurring theme, to say the least. With each strike of the belt, all thought from his mind was erased. Searing, blinding pain filled his mind and drowned out all of the thoughts. His body told him that he had to get away. That he had to escape what was hurting him. Rude crawled away from Carnage as quickly as he could. And yet, it didn’t seem to make a damn bit of difference. The First One was on him like white on rice. It was horrible, and there was no sign of it stopping anytime soon.

Johnny rolled onto his back. It hurt him to do so, but pain was something he was getting accustomed to. As much as one could, anyway. The look in the eye of Carnage was one of pure primal fury. It was one he had seen on the face of Alan Scott once, back when he had reverted to his “Animal” persona. Only Carnage was able to speak, talk, and plan. Which made him a completely different and more dangerous animal than Scott ever was. That, and he was learning something about himself. Stepping into a room that Rude had opened for him.

How the HELL did he keep bringing this psycho crap out of people? Carnage went to whip him again. Johnny raised a boot and slammed it into his foe’s mid section. The First One groaned and took a step or two back. It wouldn’t last long. This wasn’t Johnny Rude turning the tide of war. This was him buying time. For what though, he wasn’t sure yet. The agony made it hard to think. Still, he had some brain power left to tell his body to back away. Doing this caused his burns to scrape against the cement. He winced, his eye full of tears, but he kept on.

Carnage: Where are you going, Johnny? I hope you don’t think that bitch kick was enough.

Rude: No? Well, damn. I was hoping. By the way, you’re a shitty kisser.

Carnage would have laughed. He would have had Johnny not tried to kick him again. He did and when he did so, Carnage caught the leg with one hand. An idea came into his mind. Ryan took the belt he held in his other hand and wrapped it around the ankle of The Antichrist Superstar. Johnny tried to crawl away as Carnage tied it off. The King of Extreme’s attempt to crawl away thwarted as Williamson slammed a boot into the back of his head. The Bloodsport Champion let out a muffled cry before his face tasted concrete. Meanwhile, the knot that The First One was tying was now complete. He tugged on it a bit to test it. This would do.

John: And Carnage has Johnny absolutely trapped! It looks like The Antichrist Superstar’s rise to fame has been snuffed out, folks!

Hank: Are you kidding me, John? The man was ready to set his opponent on FIRE for the win! Johnny isn’t done yet, I’m telling you.

John: He isn’t? He’s certainly crying like he’s done. Look at him, blubbering like a child. It serves him right.

Hank: That’s…that’s not crying! It’s acting…he’s luring his opponent into a false sense of security! Just wait and see!

Johnny looked up with fear in his eye. Carnage smirked widely. There was a sick sense of pleasure which twitched inside of his heart. It was something that he never thought himself capable of having. And yet, there he was, ready to beat Johnny Rude to death. He placed one boot on Rude’s neck and pressed down. The smaller wrestler flailed underneath him and smacked the ground. He tried punching Carnage, tried kicking him, but what didn’t miss simply didn’t affect the man. It was as if some kind of flesh eating demon consumed the mind of The First One.

And it was fucking scary. Carnage turned his head to the side and observed his opponent. He watched Johnny in much the same way a tiger would watch a wounded animal fight for life. It filled Carnage with a sick sense of satisfaction. God, why hadn’t he tried this kind of shit sooner? He felt as if a whole new world had been opened up to him. And he had Johnny Rude to thank him for it. Carnage was lost in his thoughts for the moment and nearly forgot Rude was there at all. He looked down and saw that Johnny was passed out. Damn. How could Rude flake out like that? He wanted to hurt the sorry bastard some more. After all, Johnny DID try to kill him, one doesn’t get off easy from something like that.

His bloodlust not sated, he looked around for other ways to punish his foe. He saw the stairs. At the beginning of the bout Johnny Rude had tried to shove him over the railing and onto the floor. He meant to end the match before it had ever gotten off of the ground. Well, Carnage had to admit, it was a decent idea. So decent in fact, he thought he might try it out himself. It wasn’t like Johnny Rude was going anywhere anytime soon. And so he grabbed a hold of the belt and began to drag his opponent to the stairs.

Jolly and Big Johnson looked at one another. They really didn’t know what to do at the moment.

Johnson: So…five bucks says Carnage kills him.

Jolly: Fine by me…as long as you film it.

Johnson: Say, boss, I have a question for you.

Jolly: As long as you operate the camera, you can ask me anything.

Johnson: Let’s say I win the bet…and Carnage kills Rude…what’s to stop him from somehow breaking this cell down and killing us both to escape?

There was an awkward silence. Jolly grabbed onto the bars and shook them.

Jolly: HEEEEEELLLLPPP!!! HEEEEEEEELLLLPP! I’m an innocent film makeeeer!

Meanwhile, Rude was playing unconscious. It was the best way to get someone to stop choking you, though. The problem was in keeping quiet as his back burns were dragged across the stairs. He winced, but kept his eye closed. The teeth of Johnny Rude began to grind as he fought the urge to scream. Once he had reached the top of the stairs, Carnage began to pick him up. He strained from the effort of it. Rude looked out and saw nothing but the hard, unforgiving ground beneath him. If he landed all wrong, then this could mean the end of his career.

And so he shifted all his weight to one side of his body. The sweat and blood on his form helped make him a bit hard to hold onto. The shift allowed him to fall out of Carnage’s grasp and land on the ground behind him. Granted, this wasn’t exactly fodder for some kind of an amazing comeback but, at least he wasn’t flying towards the first floor. That was a plus. Rude began to crawl again. This time it was toward one of the cells. Fate seemed to smile on him somewhat. He managed to get half of his body into a cell before Carnage grabbed a hold of the belt around Rude’s leg. Before he was yanked out of the cell he managed to get his hands on a trash can.

Carnage drug the body of The King of Extreme toward him. Rude turned onto his back and slammed the can into the head of his opponent. He was slightly dazed, but the anger would power through that. Another shot from Rude followed by him throwing the can over the man’s head seemed to change things somewhat. The lights were cut off for Carnage, for the moment. Now THIS could be Johnny’s saving grace. If he planned it right, that is.

Hank: What did I tell you? Playing possum the whole time. Now he’s crawling into the cell for some kind of weapon, I bet.

John: Please! Rude is grasping at straws. The end is near, and he damn well knows it.
Hank: Carnage has got that can off his head and now he’s running into the cell after Johnny! Run, Rude, run!

John: The problem is, Hank, is that there is nowhere for him to run! He’s trapped like a rat and about to get his just deserts!

It seemed that way. Rude grabbed a hold of a toilet cover. Right at the same time, Carnage grabbed him from behind in a sleeper hold. Johnny groaned but wasted no time in slamming the porcelain cover over the head of his foe. The grip was released and Carnage stumbled back. Johnny turned and slammed a fist into Carnage’s chin with all the force he could muster. It seemed to be enough, as The First One fell backwards and smashed into a wall head first. Judging by the look in his eye, he was dazed.

Now wasn’t the time for celebration, though. Rude grabbed some of the bed sheets from the cell’s bed and began to work. It was a rush job, so it wouldn’t be as stable as his normal works. That said, Johnny had made plenty of nooses in his lifetime. This one was simply a teensy bit shoddier than others. He finished it and wrapped it around Carnage’s neck. The Rudeness dropped to the ground as pain overtook him. And something happened that he hadn’t expected: Carnage started to stir.

Already, he was beginning to move. This was bad, very bad. Johnny backed away on the ground. The burn wounds were like thousands of needles stabbing him. But that sensation didn’t overpower the fear that he had as he looked at Carnage. Would NOTHING stop this crazy asshole? It seemed not. Carnage began charging at The Rudeness. He grabbed a hold of the legend’s leg and watched as he collided forehead first into the railing. He was dazed from it, a fresh wound opening over his eyes.

Johnny pulled himself up using the hand rail. Agony rocked through him like a wave of rusty nails. He almost fell right back down from the sensation. Johnny used the last bit of strength he had to knock Carnage over the railing. And as he fell, Johnny grabbed a hold of the sheets. The noose tightened around Carnage’s neck. It stopped him from falling, but it also constricted his air flow.

Rude held on tight, because it was all he knew how to do at the moment. He wasn’t trying to win, he was just trying to stop Carnage from killing him.


Carnage’s eyes bulged from his head. His face turned a dark red. The gagging sounds which escaped his mouth were becoming more and more strained. The air was being ripped painfully from his body. His legs swished and flailed in the air as the bed sheets dug into his neck. Both of his hands clasped at what was wrapped around his neck. Ryan tried desperately to free himself, but it seemed as though there would be no salvation. The near Herculean rage he was feeling had been exchanged for sheer terror. He didn’t understand it, really. Everytime he THOUGHT he had Johnny on the ropes, the sick fucker pulled out another STUNT.

That wasn’t on his mind right now, though. Not much was as he was beginning to show the first signs of blacking out. What little vision he had left was beginning to darken. His heart thudded a thousand miles per hour in his chest. Was this it? Was this how his career would end? Hanging from filthy bed sheets held by a sadistic madman? Was this how his life would meet it’s bitter finale? The very idea of it would have enraged him if he had enough air to really think on it. Instead, all he could do was flail weakly as he drowned in mid-air.

Johnny held onto the sheets as tightly as he could. His body ached everywhere. It wasn’t the same kind of intense and weep-inducing pain that he felt before though. In it’s place was an enormous body throb which slammed against his body like the waves beating against the side of a boat. His lungs were on fire from taking one too many panicked breaths. Rude’s chest felt as though it would burst open from heaving as hard and as often as it had. In summation, he had seen better days. Rude kept his one eye on his opponent. He was getting weaker, moving less. This was good. This is what he wanted.

That said, Johnny felt a sensation come over him. It was not a pleasant one. The toll of the match was beginning to set on him. As tightly as he had the sheets gripped, he couldn’t help but notice that his hands were shaking. Rude cursed to himself and tried to steady his grip. Carnage hadn’t stopped moving yet and he didn’t want to let up. Hell, after what the man had done to Johnny, he never wanted to see him move again. A mix of blood and puss slid down his back from the beating he endured earlier. The fading sting of it served as a reminder of the experience.

He blinked again and again. Each time, Carnage seemed to fade more and more out of view. Until finally, Johnny Rude’s world went black. It wasn’t a conscious decision on his part. His body simply couldn’t go anymore. And as soon as he lost consciousness Carnage was released. One could feel bad for Ryan, as his body collided against the concrete for what was not the first time. The plus side was that he was free and that he didn’t fall from quite as far as before. Both men were down and seemingly unconscious. Their bodies rose and fell from the precious air they were sucking in.

John and Hank watched it all from the arena. John was the first to comment on what was happening.

John: I think this one might be a no-contest, folks.

Hank: A no contest? Booooorrrriiiing! These matches need clear and definitive endings, damn it! I have money riding on this!

John: You’ve been betting on these matches? Dear God man, have you no soul? No human decency what so ever?

Hank: What I have, partner, is a hungry bank account. That, and damn good better instincts. I put Geno over Hank, Rude over Hairy, and I was right! Ahahahahaha!

John sometimes marveled over the deliberate amorality of his partner. He sighed and turned his attention to the big screen. Suffice it to say, neither man seemed to be moving. This made for some fairly boring television for the fans. It wasn’t long before they were jeering their little hearts out. It didn’t matter that Carnage and Rude had nearly killed each other at the beginning of the match. It didn’t matter that they nearly saw someone’s death, two someones, on live TV. Because all they wanted as to see more.
Meanwhile, Johnny retreated within himself. It was a sort of defense mechanism. When the mind couldn’t handle whatever it was being exposed to, it retreated within itself. Johnny opened his eyes, both of them, in his dream. He sat up from where he was laying and just like that, he was a kid again. Rude looked across the playground and saw a much larger boy barreling his way. He felt afraid. The kid was twice his size and apparently, twice as mean. He looked behind him and saw his “father,” John Steele standing on the sidelines. He had a disapproving look on his face.

So distracted was young Rude by this that he didn’t see the boy’s punch. The one which broke his glasses and sent him face first into the pavement. The heat of the cement pavement of the basketball court burned against his skin. The bull crouched down now. He kept one knee into the small of Rude’s back. He drove it in as he rubbed Johnny’s face into the cement. He cried and begged for his “father” to save him. They even met eye contact, and all Rude could see in the man’s eyes was contempt.

Later…Rude was home. His eye was blackened. His face was bruised. Tears ran down in a steady flow from his bright, icy blue eyes. His body shook with the force of his sobs. John Steele, his adopted father, did not console the boy. He stared down at him with hard, near hate-filled eyes.

Johnny: Duh-duh-dad…I’m s-sorry…I tried…

Steele: You call that trying? That was a piss poor excuse for a fight. I taught you better.

Johnny: Buh-but Dad! He…he’s b-bigger than me! I couldn’t hurt him!

Steele backhanded his “son.” He stood at seven feet and three hundred pounds, so the force of it was more than enough to knock the boy on his ass, so to speak. Rude held his lip, which was now bloodied. He looked up at his father and was on the brink of screaming out sobs of hurt.

Steele: Dry you tears, you piece of shit! I should have broken your scrawny neck when I found you! You embarrassed me today!

Johnny: But dad, I-

Steele: No excuses! You could have beaten him, but you didn’t. You have all the skills to win, and yet, you fell short. You failed me. …Why?

He thought about it for a long time. It was hard to do, as he had to work through the pain and sadness which rocked his tiny heart. Finally, little Johnny found an answer.

Johnny: I let him get into my head….I let him beat me before the fight ever started.

John Steele looked over his pupil. He examined him, as if to test the sincerity of his words. He nodded knowing and spoke again.

Steele: That’s right. Now…what are you going to do?

Little Johnny stood up. It hurt to do so, but real men didn’t feel hurt. They didn’t cry or get sad. They got even. He righted his posture. Johnny clenched his fists and looked up at his adopted father. The look in his tiny eyes spoke volumes about his determination.

Johnny: I am going to go back there…and when I do…I’m breaking his FUCKING HEAD OPEN!

Steele smiled and patted him on the head. Rude went off to make good on his threats. That night, a large boy fitting the description of the well-known neighborhood bully was put into the hospital after someone attacked him with a pipe. The attacker was never found. That night, Steele bought his son ice cream.
Rude’s eyes opened slowly. The world came back to him, little by little. The memory faded and with it, the pain which was laced into it. John Steele had taught him strength, but had also twisted his mind into the horrid portrait it was now. He began to push himself up as the world continued to spin. Little did he know, something was happening. Something which would shake The Rudeness to the core. Carnage dialed the number on his phone. He quickly passed out after that.

And inside one of the untouched cells, the seven foot tall, three hundred plus pound Champion of Chaos, John Steele smiled.


Jolly: Well, that's just great. They are on the second floor now, and our shot is no more.

Big Johnson: I think I am starting to get claustrophobic. I can feel the walls of this cell closing in on me.

Jolly: You're imagining things. You are fine.

Big Johnson: Have you ever seen a claustrophobic black man before? It isn't a pretty sight. I'll have to take off my clothes, then you'll see my big john fixens up close, and somebody is liable to get slapped in the face with it.

Jolly: What?

Masked Henchman 3: I'd kinda like to see that actually.

Everyone looks at henchman 3 with disgust and contempt.

Jolly: I am stuck in here with a bunch of rumprangers.

Big Johnson: You're the one in here with shit stuck up their ass. Hey is that Carnage's feet dangling not to far in front of us?

Jolly: Start shooting again. It looks like Rude may be attempting to hang the poor son of a bitch. Boy he sure is a kicker isn't he?

All the men in the cell watched with baited breath as Carnage continued to flail away. They were hoping he would stop moving altogether, for that would more than likely signal the end of his life. Finally in one last ditch desperate act of movement, he fell to the ground in a heap. Carnage was out like a light once more, and one could only guess Johnny was the same way on the second floor.

Masked Henchman 2: So uhhhhh, ya think he's dead?

Jolly: Doubt it, my luck isn't that good. I have to figure out a way to spice this thing up. Get some serious danger in here for these guys. These two idiots keep cocking it up.

Just then, Jolly's cell phone rang. He reached into his pocket and and checked the caller ID.]

Jolly: Oh shit, this isn't gonna be a fun call.

[i]Jolly took a deep breath, then flipped his phone open.

Jolly: Hello?

Voice: Don't hello me you little pipsqueak. What the fuck is going on over there?

Jolly: Well ya see, it goes a little something like this......

Voice: Don't come up with some bullshit story either. I have been watching the whole damn match on tv. I saw how bad you screwed things up. You had them, then you let them get the best of you. We had a fucking deal. We gave you an advance up front for that damn tape. We even gave you the plan in advance of screwing Rude. Now what do I see? A bunch of overgrown fuckups sticking things in their asses relaxing and watching the show, like it was on in their living room.

Jolly: Sir, I know you are upset, but I am trying I swear it.

Voice: You better try just a little bit fuckin harder than that, cause we will get our film whether it be Rude and Carnage, or Jolly Roger and his four fuckups. GOT IT?

Jolly: Yes, I got it. And let me just add what a pleasure it is to talk to..........


Jolly closed his phone. Sweat started dripping off of his brow. He turned to the sink and spit out another mouthful of blood from earlier.

Big Johnson: Well?

Jolly: We're fucked. Think Jolly think.

Big Johnson: Look, Carnage's arm is moving again.

Jolly: Wait....wait.....wait for it...wait for it......I GOT IT!

As Jolly was looking down at his phone, he remembered the other phone in his other pocket. The phone he had taken from Carnage before they were tossed in the slammer. He remembered that Rev Future had said it contained something that would destroy Rude. All Carnage had to do was make a phone call. He took it out of his pocket, then went closer to the bars.

Jolly: Hey Carnage.......CARNAGE! HEYYYY!

Carnage's eyes fluttered a moment. When they opened, he found himself slowly sitting up. He turned his head towards Jolly. His eyes were still a bit glazed over.

Jolly: You know you're in trouble out there. No matter what ya do, Rude keeps on coming. I think you're at the point of needed a LAST RESORT, if you catch my drift.

As he says this, he holds up the phone and shakes it. Carnage reluctantly nods his head at Jolly. Having almost been hung, now was probably the best time.

Jolly: Here ya go big guy.

Jolly takes the phone and slides it along the ground. It slides right into Carnage. Carnage picks it up and looks at it one last time before flipping it open and dialing the number. As he dialed, Rude was starting to push himself up again on the second floor. Back down in the cell, Jolly watched as Carnage passed out again after dialing the number. He couldn't help but smile at the anticipation of it all.


A couple minutes earlier......

Emissary hobbled his way into the IKI lockeroom, and heard some yelling. He looked over and saw Storm was in a heated discussion with someone on the phone.

Storm: You better try just a little bit fuckin harder than that, cause we will get our film whether it be Rude and Carnage, or Jolly Roger and his four fuckups. GOT IT?

Storm hung up the phone, or rather slammed it down. He looked over at Emo with a disgusted look on his face.

Storm: Damn, it is hard to get good help these days.

Emo: I told you this guy was a fuck up. I don't even know why you bothered.

Storm: Who cares at this point. These guys are so battered and beaten, that by the time the next round rolls around, whoever wins is gonna be easy pickings for me.

Emo: If you get past Cian.

Storm: What the fuck do you mean if?

Emo: You're right. I don't know what I was thinking.



Johnny started to crawl. With each movement came a new burst of pain. How would he ever survive going through another one of these matches if he somehow came out the winner? He slowly crawled towards the stairs that would lead him down to the first floor. His plan now was simple. Get down to that cell, and somehow make Jolly give him the key. As far as Rude was concerned, enough was enough. He just wanted out of there at this point. Rude could feel a cold chill shimmer down his spine as he passed one of the upper cells. It was like someone was watching him. He shook it off though and just chalked it up as being battle worn. Rude got himself to the stairs and took a deep breath. This was gonna be a tough climb down for him.

Steele: Hello boy.

Rude froze up. If it were possible for a yellow streak to show, he'd have one a mile wide running down his back.

Rude: My mind is playing tricks on me. It can't be.

Rude turned his gaze around slowly, and what he saw shook him to his very core. Startled and shaking, Rude tumbled backwards down the stairs. All the way down he went till he hit the floor below. Steele slowly stalked down the stairs after him.

Steele: Still as pathetic as always huh boy? You call this trying?

Somehow Rude was still alert. He slowly started scooching backwards away from the stairs. His eyes were as big as saucers.

Rude: Buh-but Dad, I am trying. He's got to much experience.

Steele got to the bottom of the stairs, reached down, and picked his son up by the scruff of his neck. He held him up with one hand, and backhanded him with the other. Rude couldn't believe what was happening.

Steele: Your excuses are just as pathetic as they used to be. You have made yourself into a cold hearted machine, yet you still fail me. This man should of been six feet under by now. I think it's time for you to be punished properly boy.

Rude: No please Dad, I can do this. Just give me one more chance. I swear I will make you proud.

Steele let Rude go. Rude landed on his bad wheel, and fell to the ground again.

Steele: Look at you. You can't even stand you worthless piece of shit. I am so ashamed to even call you son right now.

Jolly: It is hard for me to explain what we are seeing right now. It appears as though Johnny Rude's father has come from out of nowhere, and he is berating Rude like no other. Rude seems to be scared shitless. That must of been who the phonecall summoned.

Big Johnson: Man, that's a big boy.

Rude could feel the tears in his eyes. It was just like when he was a kid. All those feeling, all those emotions rose back up into him in this one single moment in time.

Steele: Are you cryin? You pansy, I wanted a boy, not some sissyfied little girl.

Rude: No Dad please, I can do this I am telling ya.

Steele: NO! You can't. But I can.

Steele turned away from Rude and stormed over to the jail cell that had Jolly and company inside. The men inside quickly moved away from the cell door. Steele grabbed the door and basicly pulled the door from it's hinges. Once the cell door was broken, Jolly stormed his way inside grabbing Jolly by his throat. The three hired hitmen tried to pry Jolly loose from Steele's grasp. Steele took his free hand and pummeled each man untill they went down in a heap. Big johnson decided not to get involved. He just kept shooting. Jolly felt the big man's grip get tighter, and his breathing was very labored.

Rude: NO DAD! I can clean up my own mess. I don't need your help.

Steele: Shut up boy. You had your chance.

Lying not to far away from the action, Carnage's eyes opened up once more. He had a hard time remembering exactly what had happened. All he knew for sure was that he was hanging from the second floor, then he came loose, then he woke up again to see Jolly toss him a phone, then he flipped it open........

Carnage: Oh my dear lord, what did I do?

Carnage quickly turned his head and scoured the area. When he saw Steele holding Jolly in his meaty paw, he then looked over at Rude. The look in Rude's eyes were a look he never thought he would see in the Antichrist Superstar. Carnage didn't understand any of what was going on. All he knew for sure is somehow this giant of a man had been summoned, and now he was taking matters into his own hands.


Paragon: I am seeing this, but I don't know what to think.

Hank: From what we have heard and seen, that appears to be Rude's Dad. But how is that possible. I thought the guy was.....

Paragon: I don't know Hank. I just don't know. Rude is horrified right now. I don't think he knows if this is a dream or reality. His mind has to be out of it right about now.


Carnage slowly got back to his feet. He hobbled his way backwards, but continued to watch what was going on. Steele continued to choke the living hell out of Jolly.

Steele: So you like putting things in your ass do ya?


Steele curved his lips into an evil smile. He took his hand from Jolly throat. He then wrapped his arms around Jolly's waist and squeezed. The pressure increased every minute he was in the hold. Rude and Carnage watched on in horror, as did Big Johnson. His camera continued to roll though. After a few minutes, blood started seeping from out of Jolly's mouth.

Rude: Dad please, I can do this. I don't need you to.....

Steele: Get ready boy, cause the key is comin.

Millions watching from around the world had to turn away from what happened next. Their was a loud cracking sound, and Jolly's body went completely limp. Steele let him go, and he fell to the ground. Jolly was now lifeless.

Carnage: No fucking way. That did not just happen.

Big Johnson panned down on the form of Jolly's lifeless body, then back up at Steele who started berating his son again.

Steele: You know what happens when a man dies boy. His body excrete's all inner waste.

Steele reached down and pulled the pants off of Jolly's body. He flipped Jolly over, and laying on the ground was the key to freedom.

Steele: Get the key boy. Then finish him off.

Steele pointed at Carnage as he said this.

Rude: I.....I....you can't be real.......what is going on?

Steele: Get the fucking key and finish this. You got one last chance to make me proud boy, or else I am ending you where you lay.

Carnage couldn't help but get a little sick at the sight of what just happened. Nothing in his mind prepared him for this. Nothing. Meanwhile, Big Johnson still did what his one time employer always told him to do. Keep shooting. If you have a camera in your hand, always keep shooting no matter what. Johnson did just that. All Johnson could think about was how poetic it was that Jolly turned into the star of his own film.



His mind recoiled in horror. It wasn’t the dead body. Nor was it the pile of shit which had erupt from the dead man’s colon like a stream. No, it was none of this. It was HIM. The Man of Steele as some called him, others called him The Eater of Babies and Small Children, and of course, his favorite moniker, The Champion of Chaos. Standing before this man Johnny Rude was a kid again. And this wasn’t a good thing. It seemed like yesterday he remembered looking upon this man with a sense of awe, reverence, and complete and total fear. It wasn’t just a matter of his size or girth which scared him, either. It played a factor, but Rude knew all too well that the true monster lied beneath the flesh. Deep within the rotted psychosis of his father.

John Steele’s piercing eyes glared into Rude’s. They said more than words. They threatened pain, punishment for failure, but they also expressed a air of disappointment and shame. And on top of that Johnny could see a twinge of anticipation for the beatings to come. Rude knew this look all to well. He stared at his father and didn’t move. He wanted to. He wanted to claw his way through the steel and cement. To chew his way through the prison bars. To do anything humanly possible to be away from this monstrous mad man. In his mind, he was already running.

But his mind didn’t matter. In the real world, Rude stood still. His face was even more pale than normal. Every muscle in his body relaxed and for the first time in what felt like forever, he didn’t feel any pain. In its place all he could feel was sheer terror. John Steele had said something, but he didn’t hear it. The thing which woke him from his near-catatonic state was the backhand that the Champion of Chaos sent his way. Rude cried out and hit the cement once more. He didn’t try and get up. He dare not move at all, for Johnny knew it would only provoke his father.

Steele: You had your chance, boy. You had it and you BLEW IT! Turned your back on EVERYTHING I ever taught you. It’s fucking pathetic!

Rude heard every word. They echoed inside of his head. He wasn’t in the prison anyone. He was a boy again, around fifteen or so. John Steele was standing over him with a belt in his hands. Rude’s arms were handcuffed to a bed post. His back was raw from being whipped, and he was forced on his stomach. The young boy sobbed against a pillow. He rose his face slowly and whispered…

Rude: Daddy…stop…please…

Carnage watched as his opponent curled into a ball. He said the words, “Daddy, stop, please…” but he wasn’t actually speaking to Steele in the here and now. Ryan could see it in the man’s eye. He was re-living something, an event which was very similar to this one. The First One felt ill. His stomach churned and the first taste of bile filled his mouth. Williamson choked it back as he considered just what he should do. The key glinted ever so slightly in the pile of shit which lied next to Jolly. Could he do it? Could he violate the sanctity of a man’s death, and touch their waste, for freedom?

It was a much more difficult decision than one would think. As he debated as to what to do, he watched the dark passion play unfold between Johnny B. Rude and his father.

Steele: Crying again? AGAIN, JONATHAN!? Have I taught you nothing at all!? You know…every time you make me proud…as you did in The One, you go right behind yourself and take a big shit over everything I taught you to believe in!

Rude: I know…I know…I’m sorry…I’ll be better…I’ll be- AHHH!!

Johnny cried out as Steele slammed his boot into the man’s raw, bloody, and puss covered back. In the mind of Rude he was being whipped with the belt. The words were nearly identical, with some differences being obvious due to the time difference. He cried, long and loud, a wordless shout to anyone who would care to listen. Just as before, his pleas fell on deaf ears. Steele kicked Rude in the ribs so fiercely that it made the man roll onto his back. Johnny looked at Steele, and it was just like when he was a boy.
Rude: It’s not my fault…I tried…I tried to make you happy. I thought you’d be proud of me. I though-

Steele kicked him in the mouth. A few of his implants flew out, as well as some jets of blood. Just like then, only at that time, it was his real teeth. Johnny would go on later to tell those who asked that he tripped when riding his skateboard and landed on the sidewalk. At that time, he didn’t own a skateboard. But they didn’t need to know all that. Rude spat blood from his mouth and stared at the ground. He dare not look Steele in the eye. No, no, never in the eye. If he did that, John would take it as a challenge. It’s how he was. And if he felt like Johnny was challenging him, then he would assert his dominance. Rude couldn’t take that again…he swore to himself he wouldn’t, he swore-

Steele: You’ve let me down for the last time. You know what I think….I think you believe all this fame has made you better than me. I think, since winning The One, you believe you’ve eclipsed me. So what if your career was better? It doesn’t matter now, does it?

Rude: ….

Steele: No, it doesn’t. And it doesn’t matter because when it comes right down to it…I’m superior, aren’t I?

Rude: ….

Steele: Answer me when I’m talking to you, god damn it!

He grabbed Rude by his hair. Johnny wasn’t there. His body was, but his mind had retreated somewhere else. A dark, cool place. A room with no doors, windows, or any means of escape. A sanctuary to protect him from what was happening in the real world. No one could hurt him here. He was safe. Johnny groaned as the scar tissue of his eye was slammed painfully against the floor. Johnny didn’t move or fight back. The King of Extreme lied there and accepted his fate, it seemed. Rude knew what was going to happen next, and so, as before, he chose to hide in the last place he could.

Carnage inched every close to the pile. He kept an eye on the monster the entire time, just in case. And the more he saw, the more disgusted he became. Just what kind of man was Steele? And how much did NightHawk hate his brother that he would unleash this MONSTER on him? Clearly, there were some blanks in this whole situation for him. Missing pieces to the puzzle, as it were. He cleared these thoughts free and moved closer to the key. Once there, he face twisted into a look of revulsion. The smell was horrendous. How Johnson wasn’t affected was beyond him. Carnage looked at him and saw the camera pointed at Rude and Steele. He couldn’t help but look.

And what he saw shook him to the core. Steele was on his knees now. Carnage heard the sounds of a belt buckle loosening. He took a cautious step forward to further examine the situation. John grabbed a hold of Rude’s hips and pulled them up. Ryan’s eye widened as Steele’s pants dropped ever so slightly. Oh my god. What was he doing!? What was he going to do to Johnny!?

Steele: It’s time for me to assert my dominance again, the way nature intended…

Rude heard his voice, but it came out like an echo. As if Steele were talking at one end of a very long tunnel. One which Rude was at the other end of. He hid there, in the darkness, trying desperately to escape the reality of what was about to happen to him. The match was gone from his mind, Fed X was gone from his mind. All that remained was a scared boy who needed to escape what was about to happen to him.

Carnage realized what was going on. What the HELL did NightHawk bring upon his brother!? Was he that fuckin’ cold!? These thoughts passed as quickly as they came. He had to do something. He had to save Johnny. Sure, the man was a fuck up. He was mean, harsh, cruel, but he didn’t deserve this. No one did. And so, tossing the match outcome to the wind, Carnage ran at John Steele. He tackled the man and both went to the ground. Ryan began laying into him with punch after punch. With each blow, he screamed like a madman.

Carnage: YOU…*punch* SICK… *punch* FUCK!!!

And the he stopped. John Steele’s face was bruised, slightly bloody…but he was smiling. He slammed his head into Carnage’s nose and broke it. The First One fell backwards and landed on the ground. The Champion of Chaos rose to his feet and reached down toward the interloper. He wrapped his massive hand around his summoner’s neck and lifted him into the air.

Steele: Sorry, but this doesn’t concern you!

And he sent Carnage crashing to the ground with a devastating choke slam.


Carnage was down yet again. He wasn't sure at this point how to handle the situation. All he knew for sure was that there was this sick fuck stalking over him. Steele pulled his pants back up and refastened them.

Steele: I am gonna do what that pussy over there couldn't do. I am gonna finish your meddling ass off, then I am gonna punish my son the way god intended. With a stiff, hard......

There was no way Carnage was gonna let Steele finish that sentence. He kicked Steele right in the crotch. Not once, not twice, but three times as hard as he could.

Carnage: You can't use it if it's broken you freak of nature.

Steele went down holding onto his privates. No matter the man, when you get hit down there it is gonna hurt like a bitch. And it will take you down. Carnage willed himself back to his feet again. He hobbled his way over to where Rude lay in a ball.

Carnage: Come on you miserable S.O.B. Get your lazy ass to your feet. You can't let this sick fuck get the better of you.

Rude: I can't. He is to powerful. I am just a little boy. How can I overcome him?

Carnage: Look at yourself Johnny. You aren't a little kid anymore. You're Johnny Fuckin Rude, the Antichrist Superstar. This man can't hurt you anymore.

Rude sat up. He looked at Carnage, then to his father who was still recovering from the groin shots. He shook his head trying to figure things out.

Carnage: Rude, I hate you with a passion, but I will not let him do to you what I think he was about to do. That I can't allow.


Paragon: Thank god for Carnage is all I gotta say. That would of been a horrific scene.

Hank: There has to be more to this then what has been revealed so far. I just can't figure out what it is.


Crowe: Are you guys seeing this?

Storm: Yes, and I have to admit it is alot more than I thought it would be. With Jolly dead, that pretty much kills our deal.

Emo: He died the way he would of wanted. With artistic integrity.

Accolade: Or the way I would want to. With something up the ass.....fo hizzle yo.

Accolade tried for a high five, but nobody was responding.


Carnage extended his hand towards Rude. Rude looked at it for a moment not sure what to do.

Carnage: Rude, this is your chance to finally stand up to that man, and defeat him. If you can do this, then I believe the demons might start to go away.

Steele was starting to get back to his feet. Rage was in his eyes. Hate filled his very soul. He was gonna destroy both men where they stood. Rude looked at his pop, then at Carnage. He had made a decision.

Rude: Fuck it.

Rude gave Carnage his hand. Carnage helped Rude back to his feet. They turned to face Steele. A staredown ensued untill finally Steele came charging at the two men. Carnage and Rude held hands and clotheslined the big man back to the ground. Rude immediatly followed up by getting on the big mans chest and started throwing down heavy right hands. Carnage grabbed a nearby billy club and threw it to Rude. Rude clasped it tightly. He then looked down at a smiling Steele.

Steele: Come on boy. I knew you wouldn't have the guts. Just swing it a few times, and the nightmares end.

Rude wanted to, he really did. Yet the thought of the nightmares ending, and the demons leaving frightened him. Would he become one of the normal people with a heart? Would he start caring more and therefore lose his edge?

Carnage: Come on Rude, do it already. DO IT!

Steele: Yeah boy, do it. Lose everything that makes you who you are. Do it and become a nobody.


Rude shifted his weight to the side and instead of hitting his father, he hit Carnage in the right knee. Carnage went down in pain and in the back of his mind wondered why.

Rude: I can't become like everyone else. I just can't. The demons must live on. They fuel me. They give me that killer edge.

Rude dropped the club and left himself open for the onslaught he was sure was coming from his father.

Rude: Do what you must Dad. I have to be punished.



He kept his head down. It’s what you did. You didn’t look at the man. You didn’t meet his gaze or else he’d get very cross with you. That was what Johnny Rude had been taught. It had kept him marginally safe until now. Well, except for the times when Steele would beat him anyway. In those instances, nothing could be done to prevent what was to come. All he could do was let it happen and try and protect what parts of his body he could. John Steele began to pull himself up to his feet slowly. Johnny Rude dropped down to both knees.

His injured knee stabbed at him. It made him wince, made his reddened and sore eye tear up, but still he did it. Rude lowered his head as his father stood at his full and very frightening height. He didn’t know what was going to happen anymore. He had defied the one man he considered family. And on the insistence of his opponent, Carnage, who admittedly hated his guts. Steele raised his hand. Johnny winced and prepared himself for the strike, but it did not come. Instead, The Champion of Chaos straightened out his hair and clothing.

The seven foot tall and three hundred plus pound monster walked over to where Carnage writhed on the ground. He took the billy club Johnny had abandoned and slammed it into Ryan’s leg once more. The First One let out a blood curdling scream. It was sweet music to Steele’s ears. He raised the club into the air and began wailing on him with it. It wasn’t until Omega’s partner’s movements slowed that he stopped. The club was now sticky with fresh blood. Carnage wasn’t moving now.

John: Just who do you THINK you are!? Did you REALLY think that he would turn against me? I am the only father he has ever known! That bastard, Wilson, well…he fell at my boy’s hands, didn’t he? He wasn’t there for him. He didn’t feed Johnny, clothe him, trained him, and pushed him to be his very best! I did. The world had all but forgotten Johnny Wilson until I came along.

Steele paced around the body of Carnage. The blood ran hot in his veins. His body was still sore from the attack he and Rude had executed on The Man of Steele. The hate was powering him now, and it felt DAMN good. Carnage blinked a few times to indicate that he was indeed, awake. John pressed a boot on his throat. The First One gagged and kicked his legs into the air as his sore neck was stepped on. Spittle ran down his chin as the familiar sensation of having the air ripped out of his lungs came over him.

John: Johnny Rude is nothing, do you understand!? He is a nobody. Just look at him, Carnage. On his knees, ready to accept whatever punishment I deem necessary. And do you know why that is, hmm?

He moved his boot from the man’s throat. Carnage took in huge gaps of air. Steele lifted him up to his feet. This wasn’t a reprieve, it was a set up. John slammed a heavy fist into the man’s stomach. Ryan gagged as a rush of blood spurted from his mouth. The larger man grabbed his foe and applied a simple headlock. He then pointed Carnage towards Johnny so he could see The Antichrist Superstar. John Steele spoke into the man’s ear.

John: Look at him. For all his bragging…his posturing…his shit talk...where is he now?

Carnage: Ugh! Johnny…are you going to let him do this to you!? You’re, you’re UGH!

John: Shut up! He can’t hear you, Carnage. Even if he did, it wouldn’t matter. That boy is mine. He always was, and he always will be. I made him what he is, more than Inferno, Maverick, or anyone else! ME! Which means…everything he’s ever done…every mountain he’s climbed, every opponent he defeated…they’re my victories too. Rude is just my proxy, a body for me to do the things I was never able to. It’s good to see a project finally come to fruition.

Rude twitched. Did he hear what he thought he just hear? John Steele taking credit for HIS achievements? John Steele didn’t get his fucking eye ripped open. He didn’t get tortured by a crazy Aussie in the wilderness. He didn’t get blown the fuck up by a walking hairball with legs. Steele wasn’t there when Johnny overcame the odds and defeated the Leader of The Network, Haley, for his first UC. Nor was he present for the next three he would win. He wasn’t there.

And yet…here he was, taking all the credit. Rude’s fists balled. He shook ever so slightly. Steele didn’t notice this, though. He was too wrapped up in his little “victory dance.” He dropped Carnage’s body to the ground. The First One hit the pavement and lied there for some time. John Steele walked over to Johnny. He looked over the younger man with a sense of pride. As if he was watching his boy grow up before his very eyes. Steele placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke.

Steele: You need not bow, boy. You did me proud.

Rude: …Did I, sir?

Steele: In a way, yeah. You showed balls and stood up to me. You didn’t let yourself be weak. Now, sure, you DID need a little coaching but…you learned your place.

Rude: Sir….what project were you talking about?

Steele: Oh, yes, that. I don’t know though, it’s not important right now, is it?

Rude: Carnage appears to be defeated, sir. I suppose we could spare a moment, please?

Steele examines him closely now. Rude anticipated this and relaxed his body. It killed him to have to play the role of subservient again, but he knew it would be worth it. And so he kept his head down, his shoulders low, and he waited. Steele sighed and began to talk.

Steele: My knee was blown in the NGPW. A random house show, no less. It wasn’t a bad spot in a huge match…it wasn’t in the pursuit of some kind of title…just a house show. Honestly, son, I can’t even tell you who my opponent was. This was awhile back, you see.

Rude didn’t speak. He simply listened. He listened and the more he did so, the angrier he became.

Steele: I was distraught. I had plenty of life left in me, but my knee was no good. Even now, I have to wear a god damn brace. I wanted to keep wrestling, keep doing what I loved. Oh, sure, I could manage someone but….then I’d just be the one behind the real star. And then, like a flash if insight, it hit me. I would simply re-make myself in another.

Rude froze. What the HELL was this madman talking about. Steele seemed lost in his own words for the moment. Johnny used this chance to reach into his boot. Slowly, he pulled out a long, shiny, silver blade. The Antichrist Superstar listened on.

Steele: So I searched and searched for the right candidate. I would find a boy and I would train him to be a wrestler. More importantly, I would train him to be just as ruthless as I was. My goal was to build, from the ground up, the perfect vessel for destruction. And then you just kind of fell in my lap. I couldn’t believe my luck. And so, I groomed you to take my place and carry on my legacy. It was never made public, but every act you committed…every vile sin you’d commit you’d do so because of me. And in THAT way…I’d achieve immortality. Brilliant, isn’t it?
His entire body was shaking now. He had heard enough. It was bullshit, all of it. Right…? Rude wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Johnny struck out with the blade and sliced John’s Achilles’ tendon. The Eater of Babies cried out in agony as he dropped to a knee. His “son” popped up to one leg and slammed his other foot into his temple. Steele cried out in agony as he fell to the side and slammed his head into the concrete. Steele’s head spun and for the moment, he was dazed. Rude’s eye burned with fury.

He searched to find another weapon. His eye fell on a taser. Johnny grabbed a hold of it and landed on top of his father. Steele went to strike him, but all he got was a taiser blast to the chest. Rude began shocking him and when he wasn’t doing that, he was outright punching the man again and again.

Rude: I..AM…NOT…YOU! I’m better than you, you fuck! Fuck you, you lousy piece of SHIT!

Johnny took the blade and sliced the front of Steele’s jeans open. The Man of Steele tried to sit up. This action was cancelled as Rude pressed the shock stick against his “father’s” crotch…and hit the button. John let out a wail of agony as his beans and frank were being fried extra creepy. Rude held the taser there until the battery went dead. John Steele didn’t move.

Rude panted. His body heaved from the sobs and the intakes of air. He felt a mix of emotions, all of which assaulted him at once. None of them he could identify properly. Pain, anger, loss swirled in one corner of his mind while a sense of empowerment, freedom, and slight joy danced in another. It was all very confusing. Johnny stood up and dropped the shock stick. This was the final word on Steele, and after this Rude would never think on him again. He felt as though a huge weight has been lifted off of his shoulders.

He turned and saw Carnage standing. He was shaky on his feet, but so was Johnny.

Rude: I have to thank you, Ryan.

Carnage: For what?

Rude: For helping me with a very important breakthrough. Now…shall we finish this?


Stan Daniels
Stan Daniels

Posts : 88
Join date : 2011-01-20

View user profile

Back to top Go down


Post  Sponsored content

Sponsored content

Back to top Go down

Back to top

- Similar topics

Permissions in this forum:
You cannot reply to topics in this forum