"The best subjects are always people, who never fail to amaze me by their unpredictability."

- Ronnie James Dio



I-15
Somewhere, Nevada
Tuesday

A small caravan of black vehicles travel down I-15 about fifty miles from Las Vegas. Each traveling a short distance apart from each other. Inside the middle vehicle, the Passenger squirms around a bit. He continuously looks behind him and looks at the Driver.

Driver- What's wit' you?

Passenger- Just feelin' a bit uneasy, ya know? What if he wakes up?

Driver- Are ya nuts? What're ya worried about, he's locked in the trunk. And I gave him a good pop on the head, he's out.

Passenger- I just don't trust this guy. Former pig and all... What was the Boss thinking anyway fucking around with this guy?

Driver- You wanna ask him yourself, smart guy?

Passenger- Well, no. But isn't the Boss worried that he already opened his mouth? I mean, he was being shipped back to Vegas in a police transport...

Driver- You think he don't know that? Why do you think we're out here? You should leave the thinking to the big man, you'll be better off, trust me.

The Passenger shifts his weight in the seat and watches the mirror on the door. The cars continue traveling at high speeds back to base.

Meanwhile in the trunk of the car, the Ex-Detective wakes up.





Las Vegas, Nevada
Tuesday Evening


The Doctor stands outside of a large hotel/casino in Las Vegas. He shouldn't be here he thought. He has much more important things to deal with right now, and once again, is side tracked. He walks along the sidewalk to the side of the building where theres a large parking garage. Several stories in the air and also several floors underground. He walks behind the toll gate and through a man-door beside the large entrance.

Inside are steps on the left going up and steps on the left going down. He chooses the latter and begins to slowly walk down the steps into the underground parking garage. At the bottom is another man-door with a large red "EXIT" sign above it and another set of steps across from it. He passes by it and continues down the steps. Reaching the bottom he sees another door identical to the one he just passed. Across from it, no steps. Bottom level. He reaches for the door handle and walks out.

Inside, the parking garage is full of cars. As he walks his footsteps echo throughout it. He carries his normal suitcase at his side and walks faster than normal. With a slight look of determination in his one good eye, he reaches the middle of the massive parking garage. He stands still for a moment and places his suitcase onto the ground. He reaches into his pocket, pulls a cigar from it, and lights it.

Doctor D'Ville- Hello, my friends!

The Doctor takes a long puff from the cigar. The smoke he exhales covers the entire area around him.

Doctor D'Ville- I like the way you think, Mister Loverboy. Your performance after your match and mine at Madness was quite a sight as well. I must give you credit though, I didn't figure you to be such a pantywaist. You've been successful since your arrival in the federation, which you've exploited your own special way every time you show your face on television. The face you showed that night however, was a bit new, was it not? I seen anger and your pride perhaps got the best of you? I believe it did. Your first loss and you crumble to pieces. You strike officials and use obscenities towards the masses that have loved you blindly for years. From your performances on a stage with music to your performances on a stage such as the one you claim to own. Blaming my "title shot paved matchups" are just a way for you to pass the blame onto me for your overlooked status. I'm not the bad guy here, Mister Loverboy. According to your Haterboy attitude the other night, I would say that YOU are.

A single light shines down over the Doctor. He stands motionless as it gleams down onto him. His white suit seems to illuminated and reflex the light back off of it.

Doctor D'Ville- As I claimed your lime light, Mister Loverboy, I did stumble upon a Television Title shot. I'm glad you've been paying attention to me and all , but my sessions with Jacob are of no concern of yours. You need not worry about my credentials right now, sir, you're the one in the crisis here. And besides my credentials merely consist of three total matches which, was what you said, were your left overs. Or your "Sloppy Seconds". Don't use the extra month you had in this federation before me raise you high above the pedestal, my friend. Just because you've faced the same competitors I have before me, sets you no higher than me. You're so proud you defeated the Television Champion one week prior to my match with him. Just a moment, if I remember correctly, it was not Jacob you pinned in the match was it? You were the winner of the match, of course, but why would it be relevant now if you pinned LH Harrison? I believe your falling into a slight panic here, Mister Loverboy. You should take the week off, perhaps, and rest. Take time to imbibe your defeat. Not only has this first loss left you battered and beaten, but your mind has taken most of the toll. Enough with the nonsense, my friend, forget your lime light. And forget about redemption for yourself this week. I proved I deserved the title shot I had, whether you claim it was handed to me or not. It basically was, to be honest, but that's also irrelevant now.

The sound of a steel door slamming shut echoes through the garage, followed by the loud clicking of several pairs of footsteps.

Doctor D'Ville- I want to see the rockstar-playboy that this entire world has grown to love. Only, let's not have a repeat of last Monday, my friend. And by that I mean, when you lose, try to refrain from striking any officials.. And acting out the end of the match, how you thought it should've went, with them.. You disappointed a lot of people that night, my friend, including your doctor. If that's the path your going to choose when you lose, then why bother?

The footsteps echo louder in the large parking garage. From the shadows four men approach the Doctor. Three in black suits and one in a fat suit. The Fat Man leads the pack and they step into the light across from the Doctor.

Doctor D'Ville- Hello, my friends!

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Inside the trunk of a car
Las Vegas, Nevada
Tuesday Afternoon

The Ex-Detective woke up about an hour before they arrived at the hotel. He rolled around a bit to attempt a way to free himself, doing so also freaking out the guy in the passenger seat in front.

After the caravan reached the hotel, all three went down the tunnel into the underground garage. The travel through the follow another ramp down to a second level. Two cars go their own ways and the other stops in front of a large steel door. The two men get out of the vehicle and head to the back of the car. When they open the trunk, a pair of flailing legs fly out. The strength of his two legs striking the men on the side of each of their heads caused their heads to collide together. The two men fall to the ground. The Ex-Detective pokes his head out and looks at the two men.

No wonder the bossman was outsourcing to me...

All of these fucking idiots around him are worthless.

The Ex-Detective shifts his body up and jumps out of the back of the vehicle. His hands are still bound from the handcuffs that the Grand Junction police department was so kind to donate to him. He stands for a moment and looks all around him.

Should I try to esca--

"Trevor!"

The Ex-Detective swings around and sees the Fat Man walking towards him.

The Boss- I see you've had a safe trip. Unlike my few employees here...

Trevor- Oh, no. Don't worry Bossman, they made it the whole trip.

The Boss- You're lucky you made it the entire trip, my boy. You're also lucky that someone else has plans for you, or you would be dead.

Someone else? What the fuck now?

Trevor- What's the matter, Bossman? Don't you like me anymore? What are you? Bounty hunters now, Boss?

The Fat Man laughs at the Ex-Detective. The men from the other two vehicles were already over there and observing the conversation between their boss and their abductee.

The Boss- Oh trust me, Trevor... It's not that I don't like you. You've done amazing work for me in the past. But now, you're washed up. You're late with your jobs. You're always shitfaced and outta yer fucking mind. If it was up to me, I'd kill ya right now. But someone paid a high price for you so... You've been sold.


**The above banner created by Azrael Erubus.
*Song "Holy Diver" by Dio, performed by Killswitch Engage.