"So Luca, what's your plan on getting out of this one?"

"Just be calm. We'll get out of this. I promise."

"Lot of good a promise is going to do when we're all hauled off to prison on murder charges!"

"Drop whatever weapons you may have! We have people inside the building!"

Luca drops to a kneeling position and lays his pistol to the blood covered hardwood floor. He places one hand on the ground to push himself back up to a standing position.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

"I'm doing what the officer says!"

"That isn't going to help matters!"

"Don't worry!"

"All three of you scumbags! On the ground!"

Two uniformed SWAT team members charge in through the doorway the leads from the living room into the hallway on the back end of the house. Luca and Jared do as they're told and lay down on the ground, staining their clothes even more red.

Mero decides to stay standing, and raises his rifle at one of the officers.

"This is your last chance! We will shoot!"

No words from Mero, he just takes a step closer to the officers and keeps his rifle aimed on the nearer one. A burst of gunfire later, Mero finally drops to the ground, clutching his chest.

"You fucking pigs!"

"Shut up!"

The officers stand over Mero and Jared, ready to slap the cuffs on them when a series of noises that sound vaguely like talking comes from the pocket of the leader of the gang that tried to kidnap Luca.

The officer that was in the middle of arresting Mero goes over to check it out. He pulls out a small two way radio, the man on the end being Jeffery Heiman.

"Luca, you dumb shit! You think this was my only plan to kill you?! Say hello to my failsafe!"

What follows is a loud sound, and the house's walls collapsing around everyone in the room...






Of the people in the living room when the bomb in the basement went off to gather their senses, Jared runs over to Mero and picks him up, the handcuffs dangling from one hand.

Luca likewise begins to stand up, and he looks over at the two.

"Told you I had a plan!"

"WHAT?!"

"I knew Heiman was that thorough, and was using it to our advantage!"

"Fuck it, this is our chance!"

Rushing through what used to be a wall, Jared and Luca run for what seems like miles before needing to catch their breath. Looking at street signs however, they've only made it a few blocks.

"Fuck. Me. We gotta split up. I'll take Mero and get back to Brooklyn somehow. You just go wherever you need to get away from the cops!"

"Yeah, that's likely a good idea. Go!"

Jared runs off, Mero still cradled in his arms. Turning the opposite direction, Luca walks on the sidewalk, the pouring rain dampening his blood soaked shirt. On the ground in front of the man lays a sharp looking rock. Coldly, Luca smiles to himself.

Gotta go out in public this bloodstained shit? Might as well give myself a reason to bleed...

Luca slowly takes off his shirt, the cold rain making his hands shake as he tries to pick up the rock. Finally he does it, and he presses the sharp end to his chest. He drags it about 8 inches horizontally, opening a major bleeding gash. Quickly, he puts his shirt back on, the inside part now being just as soaked as the exterior.

Now that's taken care of, time to find a cab...

Taking a way that doesn't take him back to 7th Avenue, Luca makes it back to Central Park. The street however has no taxis that he could get into.

Fuck me.

Finally, out of the corner of his eye, he sees a familiar shade of yellow painted on a car. Without thinking, he hails the cab. As the driver pulls over, he can't help but notice the blood on Luca's shirt.

Driver: "Hey, yo! You hurt bad?"

"No, just got cut pretty good at work. Can you give me a ride home?"

"Hell yeah, man! Just give me the address, and I'll be back at your place in no time!"

Opening the rear door, Luca slides in to the back seat and gives the cabbie the address to the gang's hideout in Brooklyn...



"For those of you who aren't keeping track at home, there are three more people in this match! Yet, I would like to say something else before I talk about them.

Mr. Satellite has said something about me that isn't glorified psychoanalysis! I know, huge fucking shock! I do have to say, you defend your actions pretty well, however it's so unbecoming of someone with your sense of moral superiority to rely on overgrown mental midgets like Mr. MysteryMachine to get the job done for you. Yet I digress, it really isn't a matter of sour grapes. The real fun begins when one of us, or hell both of us is forced to eat their words. I don't worry about excuses for being beaten by a like you, you still fail to realize that no matter how hard you beat me, if you even manage to land in any offense on me won't make you less of a babbling idiot because you follow the only man in this company who has a god complex. All this talk of being enlightened and you still miss the bigger picture. How hilariously ironic.

Now onto the new participants of this madhouse...

Sebastian Duke - Finally! Some real competition! The only thing I'm going to say is once we decimate everyone else, I can bet we're going to have a great encounter for the title. Or maybe I'll finally lay down to you. Either way, it should be great putting these other idiots in their place.

Danny Devia - Who let this guy even sign up? I've seen my fair share of stupidity in seeing some of these people speak of their impending slaughter, and this guy's definitely the most moronic. He's yelling about everything under the sun except for the fact that he's going to get massacred by everyone else in this match before he makes it to myself, Duke, or Satellite.

Why's Satellite in that list?

He's the high end of low, which isn't hard to be with this crop of 'talent'.

Finally, Kate Astrofey - What's up with the 'clever' name committee descending on this event? First Ann Thraxx, now this abortion of a word split into two? Look sweetheart, I don't know if you're aware of this, but that joke got old when Ann Thraxx did it. Now it's just awkward. I hope you have fun pretending to be a champion before you get broken by someone better than you. Although to be honest, you're likely better off than most others in this match. That isn't saying much, mind you. It is a start, however.

So, a bunch of losers, two of which have the same stupid naming pattern. An enlightened soul who's stupider than he lets on. And finally, the only respectable opponent I face.

Things just keep getting better and better..."