"Hey Flo! Get a load of this, Cyren thinks he's getting out of that deep hole that he's in."


A woman bearing a striking resemblance to Flo Feder walks up behind John Madison and places her hands on his shoulders, comforting him. Madison pulls out his Glock and fires a round into the ceiling of his living room. Fake Flo doesn't flinch; she's probably used to this by now judging from the amount of holes in the ceiling.


"Cyren isn't winning shit this Saturday."


John pops off another shot. This time the bullet wizzes past fake Flo's face causing her to jump back.


"It's not like I'm motivated as fuck to watch John Black achieve a victory over Cyren. That doesn't mean shit any more when guys like Tommy Carlos King carry that win under their belt. No, the reason I need John Black to win this is so that I don't have to carry him around as my slave!"


"Seriously, he's the worst slave that I've ever had to own. Hey Flo! Go check up on John's restraints for me."


At John's request, the Flo Feder lookalike walks across the room to check on John Black. It's at that moment when we get our first look at John Black. John Madison wasn't lying; Black is fully restrained at the moment. He's strapped down to a chair and is wearing a muzzle.


"That's good, Flo."


"Like I said, I'm sick of having this dog in my house. Shane is a dick for setting this whole thing up. I never wanted anything to do with any of this! What the hell am I supposed to do with John Black?"


"Hey Flo!"


Fake Flo directs her attention to John...


"Two can play this game. Hey, go find me The Crimson Dong so I can make him Shane 's slave. Then we'll see how funny Shane thinks his little joke is. Just dial 512-960-DONG."


Madison's Flo leaves the room to make that call.


"Like I said, John Black is winning that match on Saturday whether Cyren likes it or not. I imagine at this point that he might like it though.

"He thinks he's going to piss on my head? Hah, you're the one who's down in the hole, buddy. Your piss can't touch me until you find a way to climb out. But you just keep digging and digging. You must like it down there! Maybe I'll have Flo send you a care package. Maybe I'll cut off my own head, shove it in a box, and throw it down to you so that you can act out this little fantasy you have of pissing on me."


"Hey Flo! While you're in there, make me a cup of tea. And bring John Black a cup of water."


John Madison walks up to John Black and removes the muzzle from his face.


"John Black, I order you to win a match on Saturday. I can't believe I actually have to order you to do this. You hear me in there? Can you win a match so that you don't have to be my slave any more? I don't like this sick joke any more than you do!"


John Black: "Yes sir boss, I thinks I can do this."


"You hear that Cyren? John Black isn't fucking around this week. John Black is going to ruin your night. Will you beat Dong? Sure. Will you beat the other guy who I can't be bothered to look up right now? Sure. But you getting a win over John Madison's slave is out of the question. I want this monkey off my back and the only way for that to happen is for John Black to cover your rotting corpse. you hear me in there, Cyren? You are NOT beating John Madison's slave."


"HEY FLO!"


"Yes?" answers Flo who's still in John's kitchen.


"Throw me a permanent marker, will you?"


Flo Madison does as John says. A black marker flies through the air and into John Madison's hands. John Madison walks over to where John Black is sitting. He removes the cap of the marker with his teeth, spits it in John Black's face, and begins to write on John Black's forehead.


"I hope he can see it..."


Once John Madison is finished, he steps back so that we can see his artwork. On John Black's forehead it reads: "Madison's Slave."


"That's a good look for you, Black. You go out there on Saturday and you show Cyren what John Madison's slave is capable of."


"Hey FLO!"


"Yes?"


John becomes more impatient. "Where's that cup of tea that I ordered ten minutes ago? Did you call Crimson Dong yet?"


"I haven't gotten to it yet, John."


John Madison pulls out his Glock.


"Unacceptable."


Like a mad man, John Madison begins to fire the weapon into the kitchen! He fires off a total of 15 +1 rounds before lowering the gun. The whole time John Black is screaming like a twelve year old girl.


"Aaaaah! Aaaaaah!"


Then...


It's silent.


"See you at Shove-it Wildly!"