Monday, December 15th
Monday Night Madness- Mercedes- Benz Superdome
Locker Room Area- Maverick's Locker Room
8:15 P.M.

Point of View- Maverick

I sighed, lacing my boots as I watched the clock perilously ticking down to when I was about to go on to face John Samuels. Considering the fact we have some unfinished business, combined with the fact that we had a match type that could settle the score- a Steel Cage I Quit Match, it was obvious that the victor of that match is the victor who should have won this whole time.

And yet, something was bugging me. You ever get that feeling... that you're being watched? I'm getting that feeling right now, shivers getting sent straight up my spine. And all of a sudden, the lights went out. I sighed. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know what's going on.

"Go to hell, you fucking wannabe."

"Tut tut, Ickle Mavvykins! You sure sound like you're in a bit of a pickle! Unfortunately for you, there'll be no escaping here."

I heard a clicking where the door was, indicating I was locked in. I cursed under my breath, my bad luck taking full control of the boat of my life. And right now, I'm thinking I'm about to swim.

"What the hell do you want, Un?"

"Why, though I may be revealed right now to the audience's eyes, they don't know that I'm about to screw you over one last time."

My eyes bolted wide open in surprise. I practically leaped from my seat and quickly surmised the room, trying to see an alternate way to escape.

Big mistake. As soon as I got up, I felt a deep, wide gash go across my back. Trust me, when I say a deep, wide gash, I mean a deep, wide gash. I managed to see the cut when I was admitted to the hospital, as it seems a lot of people took pictures of that; it was across my back, from shoulder to hip, and I could just barely see my muscles mixed in there with the oozing blood.

I cried out in a mixture of surprise and pain; in stupefaction and agony. I went down on all fours- in pain, but not giving up yet.

"Ooooooh, feisty now, aren't you? You've definitely grown much more resilient since the first time I've impersonated you. Wouldn't you agree, Ickle Mavvykins?"

I growled in anger before getting back up and start flailing around, trying to find him. Not again, will he impersonate me- NEVER again.

"Tut tut, and yet, with all that added resiliency I'm seeing from you, you can't even land a basic hit on me. Perhaps the Three Kings were right in assuming you're just cannon fodder, hm? Maybe when I impersonate you this time, I'll finish the job I started. Remember that, Iceman?"

All of a sudden, my mind went blank. Yes, I knew what he was talking about. Can I spill that or any parts of my tale about Un without breaking the limits that the Madness GMs have set? Hell fucking no. But, I do assure you, you will have the knowledge you desire about Un, sooner or later.

Anyway, back to the fight. I was beyond the point of self- control, all restraints taken off, and I was ready to fight. I let out a primal roar, and focused on the sound of Un's voice, and started connecting with his body, each blow bringing a new word from me.

"SHUT- UP- YOU- DISGUSTING- WRETCHED- VILE- PIECE- OF- TRASH!"

The last blow connected with Un's gut, spilling the red liquid that inhabits his body onto my forearm. Un gave me a look of unfathomable rage, one that told me he really meant business now. I threw a punch to Un's face now, but he grabbed it, then gave me a headbutt. I staggered back, dazed. Once more, I had lost Un, and now he was being completely and utterly silent, which gave me no way to track him.

I closed my eyes and focused all sense to my ears, trying to hear the faintest sounds, whether it be anyone bumping into something, or perhaps maybe Un's breathing if I could.

Nothing. A whole load of nothing was what I got. Un covered his tracks well. I sigh, thinking he left me alone. I turn around, only to realize this was a trap this whole time.

WHAM! My head bounced off one of Un's weapons of choice, a steel chair, like a pinball bouncing off a bumper. I immediately went to the ground, losing the feeling of adrenaline, feeling the pain starting to settle in, feeling the warm blood trickling down around my eye, as Un continued to rain down more chair shots my way, each shot redefining a normal person's definition of pain. It wasn't long until my bodily systems were starting to fail me, and I lost consciousness.

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Point of View- Un
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I sighed as I watch the deed finally finished. Joshua hardly looked alive, let alone ready to wrestle in front of a live television audience. Of course, his new found powers were sure to give him some sort of healing factor, but for now, I can at least rest easy in being assured he's not interfering.

"Now then, my little guinea pig, there won't be a soul in the world that'll stop me from running this company roughshod- starting with you."

I then pulled out my weapons that will keep Joshua binded for the time being- the steel chair he was just sitting on before I arrived, and lots and lots of duct tape. Realizing I didn't have a lot of time left before Joshua's match with the dear Senator Samuels. A sly grin crept up my face. If Joshua can bounce back after all I did- and that's a pretty big fucking if- then I'm not sure anything can keep him down. But, after tonight, I doubt anybody can comeback from this- let alone Solomon.

I set up the steel chair, and placed the unconscious, bleeding Joshua onto the steel chair. I then unraveled the duct tape and stuck it on Solomon's battered body, and just went


with it. Make a long story short, I used the entire roll making sure Solomon was secure inside.

"Well now, my little guinea pig, it seems as though I have a date with the Senator. No homo, by the way."

And with that, I hid Maverick right next to a nearby window after pulling down the blinds, so no one could see him when I busted down the door.

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8:30 P.M.
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A sinister grin was on my face, as I sauntered back to Joshua's Locker Room area. The match had gone beautifully, as Samuels had taken the bait, and now the career of this... this fool, is now gone. Over. Everyone shall remember Joshua Solomon as the pussy who had said 'I Quit,' and had his body used as a boxing glove by the dear Senator.

What I hadn't expected, however, was that:

A) There was was a security camera, and

B) Maverick's cameraman was uploading the footage.

There he was, security disc in laptop, uploading the information to the XWF website, while the battered and bruised Solomon layed in disgrace, a portion of the duct tape bit off. It would seem as though the cameraman tried to chew through the duct tape.

"Annnnnd.... Done! Don't worry boss, now everyone'll- GUAH!"

This was when the cameraman layed his eyes on me, and need I say, I became delighted when I saw his blood running cold. I pounced forward, knocking the cameraman back with a few punches and kicks. Camera Boy went down, sprawled on the floor. As I went to him to finish the job, he bashed me with one of the corners of the camera, knocking me back. Camera Boy used this opportunity to slip away, conveniently leaving his camera- and Solomon- with me. However, he did take his laptop with him. Another grin creeped up onto my face. I'd let Camera Boy escape- for now, of course. But next time... he won't be so lucky.

My eyes glanced over at the camera. Camera Boy did say the security footage was uploaded to the XWF website. I suppose now there was no harm now in cutting a promo, in it stating my intentions.

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8:40 P.M.
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"Wake up, Ickle Mavvykins," I said, slapping the so- called 'Avatar of Perfection' awake.

As Maverick was finally coming to, I leaned back against the wall, waiting for my victim to speak. Finally, Maverick was awake normally. Realizing who he was seeing in front of him, he leapt up to come after me, though he couldn't move due to the fact he's restricted to the steel chair. Duct tape- a kidnapper's best friend.

"Release me, you pussy."

"Ah, but where is the fun in that, Ickle Mavvykins? You'd be free to pounce on me, considering the fact I've screwed you out of competing yet again. No, I think I'll keep you restrained, right where I want to see you."

To this, Solomon struggled again, vying to reach me, to knock off the plastered grin across my face. I let out a cocky laugh as Joshua continued to struggle.

"Dear me, dear me, how on Earth are you going to escape that chair, much less combat me?"

While Joshua continued struggling, he looked up at me with the most rebellious look he could muster and said, "Go to hell."

"Tut, tut, Ickle Mavvykins! That- is- not- how- you- speak- to- your- superiors!" With each word on that last statement, I threw a slap at Joshua's face, riling him up, taunting at him the fact he could never reach me.

"Now then, Ickle Mavvykins, am I correct in assuming you don't know about that big match that was just announced? Team MacClay, or the Underground, as they preferred to be called, vs. Team Tigris?"

"Well, actually, Frank told me about it as I was slipping in and out of consciousness."

"Frank? Ah, yes, your Camera Boy. Enough about him. You see, Ickle Mavvykins, I have a confession to make." I slid up onto Maverick's lap, while Joshua looked furious and tried to unravel himself, as I was literally right in front of him, so near, and yet, so far. "Now then, Ickle Mavvykins, I think I'm turning into a MacClay supporter. I mean, myself and the Underground do have similar tastes, hm? All of us don't think kindly of you- one of them directly attacked me, thinking it was you, one of them faced you not once, not twice, but three times, each of them putting you down- well, sorry, it's me, but he believed it was you. And the third one caught a nasty case of gimmick infringement, hm? Taking the gimmick you rolled the ball with in the XWF. That's just cold. Now, you see, knowing me, Ickle Mavvykins, I'd want a way into the match."

I let out a cocky chortle before leaning back a bit. "But dear Santa, Team MacClay is filled! You see now, all I want for Christmas is a way to get myself into that match. And so it hit me- I shall declare myself an honorary member of the Underground! I assure you, my new brethren, I'm not going to be replicating my past performance of these few weeks. My in- ring skills were as sloppy as they were because I wanted to make this loser-" I gave Joshua's head a shove as he looked ready to burst from his unfathomable agony- "suffer. Not that it'll matter, however, as I will not be competing. You see, my brethren, I will be in this match by accompanying you to ringside, and assuring that the Underground shall be victorious by making Team Tigris' life hell!"

I hopped off of Joshua's lap while giving an evil laugh that can haunt souls. Meanwhile, however, Joshua quietly said, "I won't let you."

"I'm sorry, Ickle Mavvykins, what was that?"

"You heard me. I. Won't. Let. You."

"Pffffffft- BWAHAHAHAHAHA! You think you can stand up to the sheer might of the Underground? You, who can't even escape from a duct tape- binded chair?! BWAHAHA! And dare I ask, Ickle Mavvykins, how are you going to do just that?"

Joshua went quiet, almost as if double- checking something with himself, seeing if he'll want to go through with this. I tapped my foot, impatient to know.

"Well? Answer me, you pig- headed buffoon!"

With a final, resigning sigh, Joshua looked up at me with that same rebellious spark in his eyes, and said, "I'm competing on Team Tigris."

I snorted. "You? You're going to be Miranda Tigris' Ring General, and lead her troops against the Underground, a team with more talent in their dicks than everybody else on this roster? I think it might be time for another visit to your doctor, Ickle Mavvykins. I do believe you're beginning to become clinically insane."

"No, I'm not. Trust me, I'm still all there. But, I have nothing left to lose at this point. The X-treme title? Gone. Lane, one of the members of the Underground, practically stole it from me. My hopes of capturing the Television title? Dashed, by you. You had impersonated me for both Television title chances I received, and forced me to lose. Gaining the Universal title? Buried alive by injustice. Even if I had lost to Samuels fairly at the Thanksgiving Madness, I could still have had a chance at that Universal title, but no, you impersonated me for both matches against him. Let's be honest here, I doubt I can even prevail at Tag Team Tenacity here. I checked out the card this morning, and considering the fact I have a scrub partner, Duncan B. Deadly backing me, I doubt I can even scrape a win there. I'm going to be brutally honest with you here- this match is not only Tigris' last stand, but mine as well. There will be no place for me to go if I lose that match. It might even arguably be my very last match here in the XWF if I lose. So I think to myself, if I'm going down, I'm going down swinging."

I take a good, hard look at the man before me now. In some ways, he had matured from the brat who arrived here in the middle of September, saying as soon as possible, that Universal Champion was as good as his. But, despite his new found maturity, Joshua can still make some idiotic decisions. Like this one.

"If you truly feel that this is best for you, Ickle Mavvykins, then allow me to make an example out of you. Allow me to show you why no one should fuck with the Underground."

And with a swift, solid kick to the middle of the chest of the self- proclaimed 'Avatar of Perfection,' Joshua Solomon went flying out of the Mercedes- Benz Superdome.