Griffin couldn't help but gasp as the interior of the morgue, instantaneously flooded into his sight. The smell of chemicals came next. Some type of cleanser, along with bleach and a strong odor of formaldehyde, invaded his nostrils. That combined with the rush of suddenly manifesting inside the room, created an almost dizzying effect. This was MacAlister's first time teleporting and now that he experienced it, he wondered how the spaceman ever got used to such a thing. It was just so fucking bizarre. Disappearing. Having your world turn black. Only to pop back into immediate focus. In a completely different setting. Almost like you were switching the channel on a television set. Except this wasn't a television set, this was your placement in reality shifting. Altering from one setting to the next, in the time it would take you to blink. It was pretty intense. Griffin shook his head and did his best to compose himself as he directed his attention to the spaceman. When Azrael caught a glimpse of Griffin, he couldn't help but laugh.


"I take it that fast traveling doesn't agree with you?"


"Can't say that I'm a fan. It's fuckin' weird."


"Would you be surprised, if I said that was one of the least weird things, that I'm capable of doing?"


"Not at all."


"Excellent."


Azrael walked to the door and cautiously, peered out into the hallway. At the end of the hall, near the receptionist's desk, stood Zane Norrison and two well dressed men. Wearing almost identical grey suits and polished black wingtips. Azrael tilted his head as he looked at them and then turned back towards Griffin with a smirk.


"When you did The Order's dirty work, did you and the other weapons, wear nifty matching grey suits and wingtips?"


"Fuck no."


"Oh well, apparently much has changed in the few hours that you were absent from them cause these two guys, look like they're wearing uniforms, that were picked straight out of the Sears catalog."


Shaking his head as he quietly snickered, Griffin walked to the doorway and carefully took a peek.


"Nah. I'd say it was the JC Penny catalog. The holiday edition."


Both Azrael and Griffin shared a brief look of amusement. Then returned their attention to the men, in the grey suits.


"So what's the plan exactly?"


"Walk out there and say hello?"


"What exactly will that accomplish?"


"Um... most likely shock and then weapons being drawn. Don't fret though, you don't need to be worried about getting shot. I'm here and that means there's a zero chance of injury. Which makes for a hundred percent chance of success, when it comes to our well laid out, improvised plan."


Rolling his eyes, Griffin decided not to bring up how improvised plans, weren't a real thing. He didn't want to hear Azrael's inane explanation about them again. In fact, remembering it now, made Griffin's head start to hurt.


"Yeah. Who said that I was worried about getting shot? This ain't exactly my first rodeo, and you're not the only one, that can shake off injuries."


"Fascinating. Remind me to revisit that subject, when we're done with all of this."


"Sure. I'll definitely make a mental note of that."


Griffin stated with only a tinge of sarcasm. Walking from the examining room, he drew his Colt 45 and aimed it at the two men, in grey suits. Almost instantly, their eyes were trained on Griffin as they exchanged looks and then, pulled out a pair of pistols. Yeesh. Even their guns were identical. Dueling, Beretta M9s.


"Looks like someone was resurrected from the dead, Cromwell"


"Indubitable perception, Hastings."


A look of absolute confusion crossed Griffin's face as he lowered his gun and signaled for a time out.


"Hang on. Wait up a sec. Did you two just call each other, Cromwell and Hastings?"


He could barely complete the question without cracking up.


"Yes. We did. Those are, our names."


"I've worked with The Order for years and I never heard of any motherfuckers called, Hastings and Cromwell."


"We're from the Kensington branch. Everyone's been called in to the main headquarters to report for duty, in order to locate you. Even the branch from Kenya."


"Huh, is that right? And you two are from the Kensington branch?"


"That's correct."


"Shit. Well, that definitely explains the pansy ass fuckin' names, uptight British accents and the matching uniforms. You do realize the organization that you work for isn't a preparatory school, right?"


"This one has jokes, Cromwell. He thinks he's funny."


"He won't be making jokes for long. Hey, funny man, you're coming with us, there are some very important men that are interested in seeing your return and we intend, to deliver you to them. Dead or alive."


"I'm afraid I can't allow that to happen."


Azrael's voice resounded through the hall as he appeared behind, Cromwell and Hastings. The men responded by pivoting towards Azrael; guns still drawn, when it became painfully obvious that they didn't know what to do. Both Azrael and Griffin observed the men as they turned back and forth, several times, finally settling on Cromwell facing Griffin and Hastings facing Azrael. However, a simple snap from Azrael's fingers, quickly relieved the men from their pistols.


"You said important men are interested in Griffin's return. Well, what a coincidence. As it turns out, I'm interested in seeing someone too, the man behind those men, Maxwell Maximus. Do you think you could contact him and maybe request an audience? I'd like to have a little chat about Griffin's early retirement plan."


Cromwell and Hastings, exchanged uneasy glances but said nothing.


"If you two gentlemen can't live up to the task, I suppose I could just kill you both. That should get The Order's attention and maybe then, they'll send someone that can actually accomplish something. You have five seconds to decide, so what's it going to be? Are you going to give Max a call or do I have to kill you and get someone else to do it cause I can literally go both ways."


Cromwell quickly retrieved his cell phone and swiftly dialed a number. Holding the phone to his ear, he spoke softly for several seconds and then, hung up the phone. His expression completely overwrought, he swallowed and returned his phone to his suit jacket pocket.


"Maxwell isn't there."


"Well where is he?"


"They don't know."


"I'm right here."


Azrael's eyes instantly flared with a blaze of fire. The voice was unmistakable.




Maxwell Maximus. The bane of Azrael's existence.


"Hello, old friend."

---

Quote:I know who I am, and I calculate everything down to a T. Sure, I am a master of chaos, but chaos isn't always panic and disorder. Chaos can be, and should be, carefully planned. The more you talk shows just how little you really know about chaos.

"You literally contradicted yourself, in the same sentence. It's uncanny. Utterly profound, in the worst way possible. Do you have a learning disability, Chris? Or are you just fucking stupid? Chaos isn't always panic and disorder? Are you kidding me, right now? Chaos can and should be, carefully planned. Ahahahahaha! What the actual fuck?!?! The very definition for chaos is this - Complete disorder and confusion. Behavior so unpredictable as to appear random, owing to great sensitivity to small changes in conditions. And you say I know very little about chaos. It's your last name and you don't even know the correct definition of the word. Chaos is carefully planned. That's like me saying silence is loud. Or getting wet is actually being dry. Up is down. Left is right. Night is day. Because we live in Wonderland and you're obviously the Mad Hatter. Wow. What a fucking crackpot!"


"To make matters even more hilarious. You completely misunderstood my words. You even went as far as making up your own versions of what I said. I never once spoke about what you did, when a teammate was pinned. I also never brought you up, when I was speaking of cop outs and excuses. I did make a general statement, when I was talking about myself. I said that while there were others that did make excuses, I would avoid doing that. Which is why I admitted that Jenny pinning Cate, counted as a loss for our team and ultimately, for me. There was never a comparison to you, whatsoever. Way to make it about you though. That really speaks in volumes, doesn't it? You immediately thought I was talking about you. Why is that? Is it a guilty conscience? Or did you really get that lost, while you were listening to me talk? So lost, you have to fill in the large, blank voids of missing information, with whatever you assume that I said. Just like when you assumed that I directly stated that you and Jenny, were the same person. When in fact, I actually said that you were slowly becoming the same person, based on your indistinguishable rationale, reasoning and similar, routine, concordant remarks. Slowly becoming something, doesn't mean that it has already happened. Once again though. You only hear and understand what you want to. Screw what's actually being said. Right? Oh please make my day and disagree, you broken brained bastard. It'll prove my point so well."


"I do have to ask this... how in the fuck did I demote myself and bring myself down? I told you I'm doing exactly the same thing that I've been doing, since day one of joining this company. Wrestling for the entertainment of it. That's it. I didn't return to relive my old glory days, means I'm not living in the past. I was clarifying that the past was in the past. Which it is. I have my eyes firmly fixated on the future. While maintaining the same exact mindset that I've always had, when it comes to wrestling. So precisely how is that setting low goals for myself? If nothing has changed. And how exactly does wrestling for my own entertainment, make anyone else look bad? Even if I never win another match again, how does that make anyone else look bad? We're wrestlers. We're not on a baseball team. Don't start acting like they're similar because not only is that wrong but it makes you look like an idiot. You attack and antagonize, other wrestlers for the sake of spreading the Empire name and that's not what happens in team sports. There aren't little sub-teams that form and attack other teammates. You see how your analogy is complete and total bunk? You're like the , crumbling Ritz crackers in his hand, instead of eating them. Just eat the fucking cracker, Chris and shut up."


"You want to bring up Nathaniel. Alright, lets bring up, Nathaniel. One of the first members of the Black Circle. Back when there were only three members, he was there. Do you realize, he went for the trio titles with John Madison and Sebastian Duke, twice? Guess how many times he won them. Zero. Guess how many times I held them. Three times. With only one of those times, being with members of the Black Circle. Though by the time that happened, the Black Circle wasn't even a thing anymore. What does Nathaniel have going for him, from his past? He won the X-Treme title twice. After I already did the same exact thing, almost two years before him. And with only one arm. Hey, but he recently won the Television title, that's something notable about his current career, right? Wow. He held it for a month. First of all, you wouldn't even currently have a Television title, if it weren't for me. Second, I held it for 9 months, that's triple the amount of time, that you held it, Chris. Oh but Nathaniel, really carried me, back in the day. Your girlfriend seriously floored me, when she popped that shining gem out there. Just like you floored me, when you said that people are carrying me, now. See. Hive mind. That's what you two have. A hive mind. That's the only thing that can explain the shared similar stupidity. Who the fuck is carrying me now? I've been in one tag team match, since my return. And my teammate is the one that got pinned. How am I being carried? That doesn't even make sense."


"By the sanctioned gods, Christopher. It's like you don't even attempt real logic. You're not even trying to use your brain, in order to process thoughts, before you turn them into words. My mistake though. I keep thinking that you have a brain, when you've already proven on multiple occurrences, that clearly isn't the case. There isn't a brain, floating between your two ears. Fuck no. It's a wad of old chewing gum. Thinking isn't an option because how can a wad of old chewing gum, produce thoughts? It can't. You claim I'm a drooling figurine with glazed eyes and a pulse? That's you, Chris. You are talking about yourself, when you say that. One hundred percent. Which makes me wonder, does Jenny dress up as an alien and probe you cause you were awfully quick, to use that as your 'go to' reasoning. When everyone knows that aliens don't probe each other. The aliens that commit to the whole real probing aspect, don't probe other aliens, they probe humans. Just another thing you got wrong. Such a surprise."

2x Universal Champion (First reign was less than a day though, lol. Due to Sebastian Duke cashing in his briefcase.)
2x Tag Team Champion
3x Triple Tag Team Champion
1x Television Champion
2x US Champion (Title retired during my second reign as champ.)
2x X-Treme Champion
1x Bombshell Champion
2x HMW Champion
2x SOTM