The Road So Far:

A Secret War Is Brewing, P1

A Secret War Is Brewing, P2

A Secret War Is Brewing, P3[

Near Misses or Near Hits?

A Trip Down Memory Lane



So Peter Vaughn has been sent to hell.

It's not as 'simple' as that sounds, though. Earlier this year, Vaughn joined up with the Custodial Coalition, an underground organization that deals in information and control. Vaughn had to undergo some major trials in order to join the group, seemingly becoming tight with their leader, Master Cleaner. But Vaughn also made a deal with another organization, the Maintenance Mafia, when on a secret mission for the Coalition. He seemed to become a double agent... or maybe a triple agent... nothing's really known for sure what Vaughn intended as his master plan.

What does seem to matter is that the Coalition somehow seems to have found out about the double-cross. After Vaughn was seemingly shot in the real world, he's found himself in what appears to be the virtual reality that the Coalition has control of, experiencing some of his worst moments in the last year before realizing what was happening. Master Cleaner then sent Vaughn spiraling down into a virtual hell, one apparently of his own making. Now, for Vaughn to ever see the light of day again, he's going to have to fight his way back up from the dark pits of the underworld.

This... will not be easy.

---

~A body comes flying straight at us, flying overhead. Another one goes crashing into the harsh rocky landscape, with the creature laying there, unconscious. The camera comes around, showing Peter Vaughn beating the hell out of a third creature, utilizing a heavy stone he found along the path where he landed. He bashes the creature down, leaving it sprawled out before him. Vaughn gets up, breathing heavily. He wipes off some sweat, taking a few deep breaths.~

Peter Vaughn: Damn, it's hot down here.

~Vaughn starts walking forward again, continuing the path he was following before being rudely interrupted by the creatures from Hell. He starts going up a large hill, hiking up easily, although the temperatures and altitude seem to be affecting him. He's still cradling the bloody stone in one hand, not relinquishing his grip on his only weapon found so far.~

Peter Vaughn: Master Cleaner... when I get hold of you... I'll show you what it means to be scrubbed out...

~Seething, Vaughn gets to the top of the hill, taking a moment to look all around at the vast landscape surrounding him. We can see that most of the area is on fire, as you would expect from a place like this. Screams of agony can occasionally be heard, echoing out throughout the land. The sounds don't seem to be bothering Vaughn any, as he has no emotional connection to those being tortured. He starts down the hill, seeing someone waiting at the bottom for him. He prepares the stone again, making sure he's ready to rumble.~

Peter Vaughn: Whoever this is, I hope they're prepared to... wait... huh?

~The wrestler stumbles to a stop at the end of the hill, managing to cut short his momentum. In front of him, waiting patiently, is, well... the Devil.~

Satan: Hey, buddy!



~The devil grins at Vaughn, who looks at him with a great deal of shock and surprise.~

Peter Vaughn: So you're, uh... you're Satan?

Satan: That's one of my names, yes.

Peter Vaughn: Huh. I gave the Coalition's VR system more credit for being realistic.

Satan: What was that?

Peter Vaughn: Oh, nothing. So I guess you're here to put me in my place and make my life a living hell, right?

Satan: Well, yes, I HAVE done that in the past. But I'm not here to do it to you, Peter. Can I call you Peter?

Peter Vaughn: Uh... sure... Satan...

Satan: Let's go and get a bite, and we can talk about what's happening next.

~Satan walks off, with a confused Vaughn following behind him, looking completely bewildered.~

---

Sometimes, things can still surprise you.

It's kind of nice, really. I mean, who wants to know exactly what's going to happen all the time? For instance, I never expected to keep hearing Ails talk about eating me. I will admit, that's not something I've ever had much cause to worry about, in any sense of the expression. I've never been that much of a womanizer, not like other wrestlers, and I've never faced someone with Mike Tyson-like tendencies.

Well, maybe Supreme Machine. I don't know for sure, but he seems like the sort to go for the ears, doesn't he?

But Ails, you seem to think you're just going to consume Peter Vaughn and ruin him, right? Well, I'm afraid that's not the way things are going to go down at March Madness. I'm not some hor d'oeuvre that is easily taken down with a glass of water. I'm not even just one plate of steak and fries. We're talking a five-course meal here, featuring the finest food ever made in the world. We're talking lobster, filet minion, and those black truffles that everyone with a ton of money seems to love. When it all comes down to it, Ails, this isn't a meal you can get down in one sitting.

Basically, I'm saying you're going to choke on it.

You see, I was afraid this was going to happen. You've been on a great winning streak, and we all knew that the odds were strong that you'd come in with a cocky chip on your shoulder. You're expecting to just get handed this championship and continue on your 'previous' reign like nothing ever happened. You seem to think that I'm just going to be a gnat to swat aside, easily removed from your sight.

As I said, I do like to be surprised, so I have to say, you're really disappointing me.

I could 'almost' forgive you for it, since you are one of the great ones I've seen in this business. But your ego is threatening to weigh you down and keep you from soaring up for that championship. It's a long climb to the top, Ails, and you won't be able to make it up there if you're not coming into this one thinking that there's no possibility of you losing. You can't be too cocky in a match like this. I'm expecting this to be one of my greatest fights ever, a war to end all wars, and I'm willing to concede that there is a chance you can walk out the victor.

There's also a chance that my foot gets stuck in your ass. Nothing sexual, just gratuitous violence.

I suppose I should be happy that you're coming into this match with a blindside that a beginner to the sport could exploit. But it's not what I want, Ails. I want you coming in with the knowledge that it's not going to be so easy. I want you coming in thinking that you're going to need to be at your top 100 percent if you want to squeeze past me and reclaim the Universal Title. I want you believing, in your heart, that this is going to be one of the toughest fights you've ever been in.

And I want you to surprise me, because right now, you're all too predictable.

---

~We see Peter Vaughn sitting with Satan at a small, stone table. A meal has been brought before them, apparently ordered beforehand. Vaughn is munching on a Philly cheesesteak sandwich, while Satan is currently devouring a cobb salad. Satan takes another bite, smiling.~

Satan: Anthony, you've done an incredible job, as always.

~The chef nearby nods, keeping his face from the camera. Vaughn studies him for a moment, his full name on the tip of his tongue, but it doesn't come to him. He shrugs and puts the rest of the gourmet-style sandwich down on the plate.~

Peter Vaughn: So I have to say, Satan, this is not what I was expecting.

Satan: Oh, I know. All you guys tend to come in here expecting everywhere to be, well, Hell. But here on the first level, we tend to be fairly laid back.

Peter Vaughn: So it seems.

Satan: Some have called this place Limbo. I prefer to think of it as Satansville, but unfortunately the name has never truly caught on.

Peter Vaughn: Hey, far be it from me having a problem with someone wanting their name to be remembered.

Satan: Exactly! You know, Peter, you and I could be very good friends. I've been watching you for quite a while.

~Having no response to Beelzebub following his career, Vaughn goes back to the sandwich, taking another bite to hide his inability to speak.~

Satan: I've got to say, I see great things in your future, Peter. The sky's the limit! Well, maybe not the sky, but almost anything else, really. Oh, let me get your drink refilled. Anthony!

~The male chef comes over again, filling up Vaughn's glass. It's a dark liquid, but Vaughn's been drinking it with no ill effects as far as he can tell. He nods his thanks to Anthony.~

Peter Vaughn: I take it your plan is for me to stay here and work for you?

Satan: Oh, Demons no! No, I'd much rather have you back on Earth! You've still got so far to go, before you're ready to come back here!

Peter Vaughn: Ahhh... ummm, thanks?

Satan: You're welcome. No, Peter, you need to escape from here. Now, I can't just let you go. It'd look pretty bad for my reputation, letting a human just walk out on me. But that doesn't mean I have to come at you with everything, or that you couldn't believably sneak your way out of here.

Peter Vaughn: Alright... so where would I need to 'sneak'?

~Satan's hand waves for a second, a little seductively, and a map suddenly appears on the table next to Vaughn. He picks it up, studying it.~

Peter Vaughn: Huh. So Alighieri had a lot of it right, huh?

Satan: Oh, yes. Of course, he had some help with that. It IS an Inferno down here, after all.

Peter Vaughn: If I'm reading this right, you're saying I just head up this path through the levels, and I can escape from here?

Satan: Of course you can. I believe in you. Now, let's have some dessert!

~Satan claps his hands, looking behind him. A cart is pushed out, which seems to have a sports car on it. Satan steps up to it, cutting a piece off.~

Satan: You see? It's a Ferrari... but it's also cake!

Peter Vaughn: I see that. Er... impressive.

Satan: Isn't it?

~The two dig into the pieces of cake, with Vaughn shaking his head for a moment at how surreal all of this is. Both seem to enjoy the texture of the cake, nodding in agreement towards the chef.~

Satan: Brilliant!

Peter Vaughn: Superb.

~The chef just nods and walks off. Vaughn stares after him, still trying to place the man, with no luck. Satan, meanwhile, finishes his piece of cake and sits back.~

Satan: Ahhhh, it's good to be the king. Drink up, Peter, and then you can be on your way!

~Vaughn obediently finishes his drink and gets up, feeling energized. He nods to Satan, a smirk appearing on his face.~

Peter Vaughn: I can't believe I'm saying this, but it was good to meet you, Satan. Personally, though, I'm hoping never to see you again.

Satan: Hah hah hah, that's what they ALL say!! But I wouldn't count on that, Peter. Good luck to you!

~Vaughn grabs the map and walks off, using it to figure out where he needs to go first. Satan watches him go, a dark grin crossing his face.~

Satan: I'll see you soon...

~He stays where he is, nodding to the chef.~

Satan: You can go now, chef. Just remember, the party with Hippocrates is in three days. Your penance is going well, isn't it? After all.. it could be worse.

~Satan gestures in the direction that Vaughn is headed. The chef nods, still not saying anything. Satan smiles again, loving every minute of being the ruler of Hell.~

---

So let's talk comparison, Ails.

You talked several times about your victory over Mark Flynn, a man who did get the surprise pinfall on me when I found myself distracted by Apex. As I've said in the past, I don't blame Flynn for that at all, and I acknowledge my loss to him as a perfectly legal contest. I lost him to fair and square, because no matter what the outside interference was, it didn't change the result of the match.

So in your mind, since ALIAS beat Flynn and Flynn beat Vaughn, Alias > Vaughn.

Hey, it's a comparison, sure, and one that is worth taking a good, hard look at. There's just one problem.

We can do a similar comparison in a different direction, and reach an entirely new conclusion.

After all, you, Ails, were pinned by Jim Caedus. Sure, there was outside interference and you can point to that if you want, even though that would make you a true hypocrite. But in the end, Caedus defeated you for the Universal Title. And then, a month later, I defeated Caedus cleanly, destroying him and seemingly ending his XWF career once and for all. I took the man who stripped you of your championship and, well, let's just say I owned him more than you owned Flynn, that's for sure.

So in that comparison, we've got Vaughn beating Caedus and Caedus beating ALIAS, hence Vaughn > ALIAS.

Hey, aren't these comparisons fun? I mean, they're meaningless, but they're amusing, nonetheless.

Overall, Ails, it doesn't matter who you've beaten, and it doesn't matter who I've beaten. Both of us have taken down some of the greats in the business, and both of us have taken losses as well. In the end, what's going to matter is if I break you at March Madness or you survive to come out on top. That will be the best identifier to look to, rather than comparing past accomplishments and going "Nah nah, nah nah nah."

Will I be non-stop bragging if I defeat you, Ails? Oh, you bet your ass I will be. And who wouldn't be? And that would last until the next time we faced, because once I defeat you, the comparisons will be all out of alignment.

After all, we can't leave it at ALIAS defeats Flynn, Flynn defeats Vaughn, and Vaughn defeats ALIAS. That just won't do at all. We'll need to have ourselves a little tiebreaker in the future.

But even if that doesn't happen, the world will still know that after March Madness, if & when I grab my championship from the top of the three tiers, I will always be known as greater than you.

> > > > > > > > > > >

---

~The picture rejoins Vaughn as he's made his way upwards through a hidden staircase. He climbs slowly, watching for anything that might jump out at him, but surprisingly nothing does. Maybe it would if this was a video game. Vaughn gets to the next exit and comes out, looking around. The screams are still there, but they're a tad different from the previous level. There are also some moans thrown in for good measure. Vaughn walks forward, looking around at what appears to be a continuous, massive orgy.~

Peter Vaughn: So... this is the Second Circle... Lust. Huh. It doesn't seem that bad.

~Vaughn walks forward, being careful where he steps. He's consulting the map as well, looking for his way out of there. Finding his destination, Vaughn keeps walking... only to have his leg grabbed, almost causing him to trip.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey!

~Being the professional athlete that he is, Vaughn's easily able to right himself. He looks back, annoyed at whoever it was that grabbed him. It takes a moment to see past the full-on orgy and pick out a face or two.~

Peter Vaughn: Huh... you look familiar...

Man: Please... can you help me? I.... I need help...

~Vaughn smirks at the sight, as the man's face disappears for a few moments underneath a woman. Or is that a man? It's hard to tell at this angle. After a few more seconds go by, the man appears again, gasping.~

Peter Vaughn: I don't know. It doesn't really look like you need much help, other than reaching certain spots, and I can guarantee to you I'm not going to help you with that. It's not really my thing.

Man: ... Please... it's been... decades... ah can't... take much more...

Peter Vaughn: Uh huh... Well, I suppose I can throw one of my favorite quotes of yours back at you. "Let us never negotiate out of fear. But let us never fear to negotiate." I think your pleading has you a little past fear at this point. So what can you offer me, in order for me to help you?

Man: There's a... ooohhh... there's a secret... to the next... doorway...

Peter Vaughn: Oh, a secret? Why didn't you say so? Let me just... okay, you all, quit squirming...

~Carefully, Vaughn works to extradite the man from the pile. It isn't easy. I mean, it's Hell, why would it be? But somehow Vaughn manages it with a minimum of contact, pulling the naked man out. Interestingly, as soon as he's out of the pile, the man starts developing clothes around him. The suit seals off the need for any blurring of the screen, as he gets to his feet.~

Man: Ah thank you, son.

Peter Vaughn: I guess you regret fooling around with Marilyn now, don't you?

Man: Ah have seen the right path. If I could live again, ah would keep myself from falling to the sins of the flesh again.

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, sure you would. Anyhow, let's get going, Mr. President. Show me that secret that'll get me outta here.

~The man adjusts his hair, which has now become like it was in real life. He looks just like he does on the half dollar coin. President Kennedy takes a deep breath and walks forward, trying not to fall back into the temptation all around him. They head for the side, where a doorway to the next circle has appeared. There is a woman standing in front of it, staring around at the calamity around her. Vaughn does a double take.~

Peter Vaughn: Wait... Betty? Betty White?

JFK: Can ah say, Betty, I loved you in Life With Elizabeth. When you would get asked if you're ashamed of yourself, and shake your head so smugly towards the camera...

Peter Vaughn: Oh, c'mon, that's not... you don't... this isn't right! I have to say, terrible programming up there, Master Cleaner! And also, it still feels too soon!!

~The woman turns and grins at Vaughn & JFK.~

Betty White: Oh, don't worry about me. I'm just visiting some old acquaintances and telling them "Thank you for being a friend". And now that I've done that... later bitches!

~White disappears in a flash of glowing light. Vaughn, taken aback, glances into the pile still writhing inside the pit. His eyes widen in recognition.~

Peter Vaughn: Wow. Who thought those stars would be here?

~Vaughn shakes his head, chuckling, before turning to the doorway.~

Peter Vaughn: So what's the secret?

JFK: What?

Peter Vaughn: The secret to going up to the next circle?

JFK: Oh, uh, skip the first step and run up the rest of the way so you do not get pulled back in.

Peter Vaughn: You, ummm... you sound like you're making that up, Mr. President.

JFK: Ah bet you won't try the first step and find out, will you?

~Vaughn stares at the former leader of the United States for a short time before giving a short laugh. He then runs forward, jumping over the first three steps and then hurrying up the stairwell. JFK follows, hesitatingly slightly at what's being left behind before remembering what it was like. He hurries after Vaughn, heading upwards.~

---

So can you lust over an inanimate object?

Okay, Ails, before your mind goes to that place that we ALL know it's going to go, I'm talking about the Universal Championship. I know, when you reach the top and the belt becomes yours to defend, you almost see it like your partner. Your friend. Your connection to the wrestling world. So how does it feel when you lose that title and see it roaming around with other men, out of your grasp?

It makes you want it back, doesn't it? In your mind, you're thinking "Only I, the mighty all-caps ALIAS, should get to parade around with that title around my waist!" I mean, that's the feeling I get from you, anyway, considering you came back from your little hiatus and immediately threw yourself into the #1 contender position again. It almost reeked of desperation, come to think of it. Were you that jealous that someone else was wearing the gold, that you had to hurry back into the ring to try to regain it?

Sounds like an obsession to me. You know what they say happens when you allow lust into your life.

Now, me? Hell, I want every championship, so I can't really be high and mighty and act like I'm above it all. I love the sensation of holding that gold for the first time, knowing that it's become mine, and that its previous owner is likely lying unconscious, unable to do anything about it. Honestly, maybe I like the sensation of taking it away from someone more than actually holding it. It's an interesting idea to bring up to a therapist, depending on if I ever decide on talking to one in the future.

At the same time, holding this championship, to me, means that the checkbox has already been filled. Now and forever, I am listed in the XWF record books as an XWF Universal Champion. Nothing will ever change that, no matter what happens in the future. If I lose the belt, I'll be disheartened, but I doubt I'll leap into ex-stalker territory like you have. I'll just go on to the next championship, continuing to pad my record as one of the greatest of all time.

For now, though, I'll deal with your lusting for gold the best way I know how, Ails: by kicking you in the balls and watching the heat die from your eyes.

Broken Wood. Problem Solved.

---

~A heavy rain is falling as Vaughn and JFK make their way into the third circle of Hell. Vaughn looks particularly displeased, feeling himself getting soaked. JFK doesn't seem to mind, but then, he's been covered in a lot worse over the last several decades. They walk further into the area, seeing the disgusting mud mire set up around them. People, if you can still call them people, are writhing in the muck, screaming and being unable to escape their fate.~

Peter Vaughn: This looks a lot like your level, Prez.

JFK: No, this is for those who were gluttonous in life.

~They make their way carefully along the limited path, not wanting to end up in this pit for all eternity. As Vaughn & JFK circle around, one man manages to crawl to the edge towards them.~

Man: You there! If thou would pull me out of this infernal eternity, I would give thee everything I have!

Peter Vaughn: ... Ummm, you don't really have anything for me, pal. Not anymore.

Man: I can find thee gold! The best of food and drink! WOMEN!!

JFK: Ah like where this guy's head is at.

Peter Vaughn: Who are you? Should I know you?

Man: I am the true king of England! I am Henry VIII!!

Peter Vaughn: Ahhh, right. Like the song!

King Henry VIII: The song?

Peter Vaughn: Of course! It's a great little novelty tune. You know it, right, Prez?

JFK: Ah'm afraid not.

Peter Vaughn: Oh, right, it came in the mid-60's, after you, y'know...

~Vaughn signals with his hand the sign for a head being blown up. JFK winces, not really wanting to remember the feeling of that day.~

Peter Vaughn: How did it go... "I'm Henry the 8th I am, Henry the 8th I am, I am... I got married to the widow next door, she's been married 7 times before..."

King Henry VIII: What is this blasphemy? Just pull me out from here before...

Peter Vaughn: "And every one was a Hen-e-ry (Hen-e-ry)! She wouldn't have a Willy or a Sam (no Sam)! "

~JFK is bouncing his head along with the song, enjoying it. Meanwhile, King Henry VIII tries to pull himself out, but of course, it's impossible. It also attracts the attention of something else.~

Peter Vaughn: "I'm her 8th old man named Henry, Henry the 8th I am!"

King Henry VIII: Stop singing, scoundrel, and free me from... oh no... CEREBERUS!!!!

~The three-headed hellhound has emerged through the rain and hail, growling. King Henry VIII tries to beg off, but there's nowhere for him to go, as Cereberus picks him up in each of the three jaws and begins to once again tear him limb from limb. JFK stumbles away, feeling sick, while Vaughn just raises his eyebrows.~

JFK: Ah think we need to go.

Peter Vaughn: You're probably right. "Second verse, same as the first! I'm Henry the 8th, I am..."

~With Vaughn still singing, the two hurry off towards the next exit, as King Henry VIII's screams continue for some time. In Hell, unfortunately, you can't really die again, after all.~

---

I don't think I'd go so far as to call you gluttonous, Ails.

I mean, you and I are in extremely good shape, so food and drink is not an issue for either of us. At least, not that I've seen. Although you DID say you wanted to eat me... so I suppose I can't rule that out as a possibility.

You don't have a secret problem with alcoholism, do you, Ails? If you do, I'm going to probably regret my nickname I've given you, really. So hopefully that's not the case, and you're a man who believes in clean living.

Of course, that's not the only definition for gluttony. The one that I think fits you best is "a person who is always eager for more of something usually unpleasant." So it doesn't have to just be chicken wings and vodka. It could be someone's addiction to meth or coke. It could be someone always going into the masseuse and getting the crap beat out of them.

Basically, it could be your glutton for punishment.

I mean, why would you keep coming back, Ails? Why would you fight to climb the mountain once again, after having been so violently thrown off of it in the past? One could only assume that you appreciated the pain and torture you endured at the heights of the XWF, and that you have come back wanting more of it. Are you a masochist, Ails? Or am I being unfair?

Truthfully, I don't know for sure. I've seen some of your matches that you've chosen in the past, and they were pretty brutal, so maybe you do have a bit of a glutton for punishment. I hope I've made your day by setting up the Ascent Into Madness match. I only want it to give you everything you need and more. I just, y'know, hope you survive it. Even if you don't, though, hey, what a way to go, right?

That's two sins down that you've qualified for, Ails. How many more are you... and I... going to have attached to our records by the end of this journey? I suppose we'll find out.

---

~In the fourth circle of Hell, we see Vaughn and JFK carefully making their way down a large rock formation. They land on the ground, staring around at the chaos going on all around them. It's one of the biggest brawls anyone has ever seen.~

Peter Vaughn: What level is this? It kind of looks like my type of Hell here...

JFK: If ah remember the circles correctly, this would be the place where the greedy are punished.

Peter Vaughn: The greedy? All they're doing is fighting each other...

JFK: Yessir, and they're trying ta get the other's stuff.

Peter Vaughn: Ahhh, so they're endlessly fighting avarice. Interesting.

~One group comes fighting too close to the pair, with Vaughn turning and dropkicking one of the men off the edge and to the ground below. A second man tries to grab at Vaughn's shirt, reaching for a necklace underneath, and Vaughn quickly sends him flying with an arm drag takedown. He gets up, with the last man pushing himself up and breaking heavily.~

Man: Thanks for the help, good sir.

Peter Vaughn: Ummm, sure, no problem. And you are?

Man: My name is Charles Ponzi...

~A second later, Vaughn is pounding away at Ponzi's face, stunning him. Vaughn then twists him around, taking him hard to the ground with Revenged!!! Ponzi collapses to the side, unable to move, as Vaughn gets to his feet, still looking furious. JFK steps towards him, putting a hand on him.~

JFK: Hold on, Peter! We don't have time to stay here!

Peter Vaughn: We also don't have time for no Ponzi schemes, you hear me? You know how many good families were ruined by this asshole? Just so he could get rich?

~Vaughn kicks away at Ponzi's side, doing more damage, with JFK pulling him back.~

JFK: Ah understand, but we really have to go!

~JFK drags Vaughn further away, as he spits back at the downed Ponzi.~

Peter Vaughn: Those bastards robbed me blind back in the day. Stupid Ponzi, coming up with that deal... I'M GLAD YOU'RE IN HELL!!!

~They both move away, with Ponzi just laying there, groaning. Suddenly, the two men from earlier are back, jumping on him and working to take away any belongings he's got left, as Ponzi feebly fights against them. Meanwhile, we see Vaughn and JFK reach the next level up, although there doesn't seem to be a way to open the passageway. They both hit at the door, unable to figure out how to release it.~

Peter Vaughn: What the hell... they're keeping them locked in?

JFK: They probably don't want tha fight to go further up.

Peter Vaughn: Then what do we do... wait... hold on a second...

~Vaughn turns and grabs a guy out of a fighting mob, with the man immediately swinging at him. Vaughn twists him around, applying a full nelson submission, with the weaker man desperately trying to find a way to get free.~

Peter Vaughn: Calm down there, Edison! I'm in need of your brains, so you need to stop fighting for a minute!

~The man, hearing his last name for the first time in ages, stops struggling. Vaughn waits a moment to be sure before releasing him, spinning him around. JFK takes a closer look at his face.~

JFK: Ah'll be, it IS Thomas Edison!

Thomas Edison: What do you want, boy? Can't you see I'm busy?

Peter Vaughn: I'll bet you $10,000 that you can't figure out a way through this doorway.

~At the sound of a chance to win a fortune, Edison's eyes light up. He goes to the doorway, immediately studying it, as Vaughn & JFK step back to watch. After a moment, Edison smiles and taps a certain spot on the door.~

Thomas Edison: You buffoons. The answer is right here, obviously! You have to give up something to be able to leave here. You have to give up one of your treasures, and who would ever want to do that? Now, where's my $10...

~Vaughn immediately grabs Edison by the arm and launches him bodily back into the crowd, knocking down a large swath of individuals. He grins as he gets up, looking out at the chaos he just caused.~

Peter Vaughn: You'll have to talk to Tesla about that, Tommy.

~Vaughn turns back to the door, where JFK is studying the opening that Edison found. He feels around in his pockets, but they're currently empty.~

JFK: Ah'm afraid ah don't have much.

Peter Vaughn: Not a problem.

~Vaughn considers his necklace, studying it for a moment. Then he shrugs, yanking it off and walking over to the doorway and slipping it inside. Immediately the door raises up, allowing enough space for JFK and Vaughn to quickly slip out before it descends again, keeping all of those greedy bastards trapped in their circle of Hell.~

---

So now we get to the sin of greed... which has a lot in common with gluttony and lust, doesn't it?

I'm afraid this one works for us, too, Ails. You're covetous of what I've got, after all. You want my championship. And as for me, I suppose I want what you've got: the notoriety, the fame, the respect. It's all I ever seem to hear about you, how people think you're one of the most amazing wrestlers in our recent history. That's what I want people saying about me. Will I ever get there? It depends on who you ask. Some will say I've already made it by holding three World Titles at the same time. Others will never get beyond their vision of me as a Janitor.

But I think I can sway a lot of those feelings if I have a marquee victory like defeating you in the PPV main event in a convincing fashion. Like, say, putting you in the hospital... or worse.

I suppose some would say wanting something like that would not be a good thing. But I can't help myself, Ails. While I can't say I have anything personal against you, I really, REALLY want to be the one to take you out, because it would be the top feather in my cap for a long time to come. Who else compares to the legend of ALIAS? One of the Ravens, maybe? That Warstein guy? Hell, maybe none of them.

When I defeat you with a Plunge off the top of the cage, I'll take away some of your hard-earned respect and prestige, but it'll be well worth it in the end. For me, at least. For you, maybe not so much. But just think of it this way: you'll be helping me fight through the avarice trapped in my heart. You'll be doing me a huge favor by falling at my feet, giving me that victory I crave so badly.

Because Greed is Good. And I want it all.

---

~Vaughn and JFK make their way out to the next circle, looking around as they walk alongside the River Styx. Vaughn glances into the water, and a second later wishes he hadn't, seeing all the dead souls underneath. They walk on, hearing the sounds of another war going on ahead of them.~

Peter Vaughn: Another level just built on fighting? What the hell... seems lazy to me.

JFK: From what ah hear, this circle is about the sin of Anger. Thus, everyone is always angry.

Peter Vaughn: Like the Hulk?

JFK: The who?

Peter Vaughn: You know, the Hulk! Oh, wait... you missed out on the Marvel movies, didn't you? Damn, and I think his comics were just coming out when you lost your brains, too. Man, you died at just about the worst time, you know that? You missed out on so much!

JFK: Ah know. At least I left behind a loving family and children who surely lived long, incredible lives.

Peter Vaughn: Ummm....

~Vaughn is saved from answering as a sudden mob rushes up towards them, screaming. Their leader, a man dressed in furs, shouts in Mongolian and charges, swinging a wicked sword. Vaughn ducks under it, as JFK is tackled by some of the other guys. The man roars and goes after Vaughn again, showing no restraint in his attack. That allows Vaughn to hit a sweet kick to the face, knocking the Mongol backwards.~

Peter Vaughn: Damn, you were cooler in Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure, Genghis!

~Vaughn follows up with a running double-knee to the chest, sending Khan crashing onto his back. Vaughn grabs for his blade, picking it up and spinning back to where JFK is taking a brutal beating. Vaughn races over, cutting away at the two men, sending body parts flying. They fall away, as Vaughn spins back, swinging again... and decapitating the rising Genghis, sending his head soaring through the air.~

Peter Vaughn: KHHHHHAAAAAAANNNNNN!!!!!

~After the impassioned scream, Vaughn calmly picks up the injured JFK, hauling him along with him towards the next exit.~

Peter Vaughn: I can't believe I killed Genghis Khan.

JFK: He'll be restored any minute now so tha fight can continue.

Peter Vaughn: C'mon, Prez, at least give me a few minutes to gloat before you take it away from me!

JFK: Sorry.

Peter Vaughn: It's okay. I'll still wear that victory with pride.

~They move on, avoiding a few more confrontations when possible. When they couldn't be avoided, Vaughn just went to work. Eventually, they get past the enraged fighters and to the next step, heading upwards.~

---

Okay, I can already hear what everyone is going to say.

Yes. I've got some anger management issues. I think I've worked through them a lot more than I did in the past, but it's a continual process. I may be less likely to take hostages and risk wholesale slaughter, but I do have to contain my rage sometimes in order to stick to my game plans in matches. When it comes to someone I hate, like Knox or JC, I'll probably revert a little bit, but hey, a little fury is good now and again, right?

As for you, Ails... it's hard to say if we've ever seen your anger get the best of you. Maybe in your fights against The Left Hand? I don't know if I'd even count that, though. Whenever you and I have faced off in the ring, I haven't sensed that rage in you. That furious anger. That... passion. It seems to be lacking a little bit, if I'm being honest.

Don't get me wrong, I know you want to win the title. I know you want to defeat me. I know you want to eat me, which is still creepy, by the way. But do you really hate me enough to make this personal? Because in my view... I don't see it as personal. Sure, you had your title taken away, and maybe you blame me and the Exiles for what Caedus did (which is a mistake, by the way, but okay). But overall, this one feels more like it's about the legacy of the belt and our own entwined fortunes, not anything like a blood feud.

Seems almost a shame, really. I feel like I should hate you, for everything you represent and how people like you have treated people like me in the past. But I can't feel it. I don't hate you, Ails.

I just want to see the blood spilling down your forehead from your torn scalp, as you cling to life with whatever willpower you have left.

But it's nothing personal.

---

~On the next level, Vaughn and JFK step out onto an empty landscape. They start on their way through, with Vaughn keeping his guard up, but nothing seems to be going on. The place feels almost... abandoned.~

Peter Vaughn: I don't understand. What's going on here?

JFK: The sixth circle of Hell was all about heresy, wasn't it? Going against the church?

Peter Vaughn: Which church?

JFK: Ah think back in the day, it was Christianity. But now...

Peter Vaughn: Wait, are you telling me that even Hell no longer discriminates due to religion?

JFK: That's what it seems like.

Peter Vaughn: That's... actually kind of cool. Good on Satan for cancelling this level. I'm surprised he didn't turn it into... oh, wait...

~As the duo moves forward, they can see green grass set up next to a bunker and some artificial turf with a flag sticking out of it.~

JFK: He turned it... into a golf course?

Peter Vaughn: Even the Devil has to stress release at times, Prez. Let's keep moving.

~Leaving the golf course behind, Vaughn and JFK quickly make it up to the seventh circle, where they find three ringed areas encircling the sandy, dust-covered land. The two start to make their way across, looking down into each pit.~

JFK: The first ring here is for murderers and those who harmed others.

Peter Vaughn: So probably a lot of wrestlers down there. Oh, hey, I see Manson! Gacy! Bundy! Wow, I feel like I should get some autographs... but it's probably safer to stay up here.

JFK: The second ring is for those who hurt themselves. Suicide victims.

~Vaughn immediately stops JFK, looking downwards.~

Peter Vaughn: Wait... are you telling me Kurt Cobain is down there? We need to find him! Which tree is he?

JFK: Ah don't know who that is.

Peter Vaughn: Oh, man... you missed out on Nirvana. That's so sad, Prez.

~Vaughn looks around the ring for Cobain, but he can't find him, since none of them look as they did back in their human days.~

Peter Vaughn: Damn. I wonder if I started singing "Come As You Are", he would start reacting?

JFK: Ah really believe we should keep moving, Peter.

Peter Vaughn: Oh, fine... it's not like it's real, anyway. But man, if there was one person I could rescue... well, him or Chester Bennington...

~Vaughn shakes his head and continues along with JFK, reaching the final ring near the center. It has a lot less going on in it, with just a single room set-up, standing on its own.~

Peter Vaughn: Well, that's strange. What's this doing here?

JFK: Ah believe... it's for you, Peter.

~Startled at the change in voice, Vaughn turns... only to be grabbed by the throat by Satan!! The figure lifts Vaughn high in the air, ignoring his kicking legs, as he begins to carry Vaughn towards the single dwelling.~

Satan: I'm sorry about this, Peter. I truly am. But you had to make the climb yourself, so I could place you where you'll be spending the rest of eternity... in the apartment you once believed was the hell you were trapped in. You've made your own bed, Peter. Time to die in it.

~Satan gets closer and closer to the room, with Vaughn struggling like an insane person to get free.~

---

Well, damn. I should have expected that if I was going to have a home in this Hell, it'd be in the Seventh Circle of Violence.

You and I both know how this goes, Ails. I know you enjoy tearing at a person's eyeball and bashing head into 'buckles just as well as I do. You wouldn't be in this business if you were squeamish. We live on violence. We thrive on violence. And so do the fans who are watching us, cheering us on to break bones and dislocate joints.

In this, we're probably on a pretty even par, Ails. I give you full credit for being just as much of a sadistic son of a bitch as, well, me. I don't mean continually trying to stab my opponent or anything, I wouldn't go that far. But I'm sure we both get a thrill out of that vibration you get from the steel chair after it's smacked across the back of a victim's skull. We both love that moment when our adversaries fall to our finishers, knocking them out so severely that there's always the possibility of some brain damage. Hell, we both must love the violence equally, because that's the only thing that would make us sign up for such a dangerous contest.

When you have me against a cage wall, and you're trying your best to shred my forehead open and spill out every last drop of blood you can manage, will you at least admit to yourself that we have something in common? I hope you will. I hope you'll accept the truth about yourself. And when I'm sending splinters into your spine from the table I just put you through, I'll be thinking the same thing:

We both enjoy inflicting pain, at least on some level.

So while they're trying to put me into the circle of Violence, claiming that this is where I belong... well, I'll save you a seat, Ails. A seat with a lot of nails sticking out of it, that I can break across your back. Won't that be a sight?

---

Peter Vaughn: No...

Satan: What's that, Peter? It's hard to hear you with your windpipe crushed.

Peter Vaughn: ... I.... Said... NO!!!!

~Suddenly, there's a blast of light, and Satan finds himself shockingly thrown backwards. He manages to stay upright, using his massive muscles to absorb the blow. He gets up, staring at Vaughn, who is not floating in mid-air. He turns slowly towards Satan, his face full of rage.~

Satan: No! I don't believe it!

Peter Vaughn: Believe it or not, you piece of shit, you're still going to burn!

~Vaughn begins to send wave after wave of energy into Satan, causing him to scream out in pain. He falls backwards, rolling, trying to put himself out, as Vaughn floats above him.~

Peter Vaughn: I knew... I could do it... I worked... so hard at it... I've been trying... ever since I got here... you think you're the only one who can... manipulate this world, Cleaner?

YOU THINK YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE??

~Vaughn glances from left to right, as if seeing the binary code encircling him and manipulating it.~

Peter Vaughn: I can control this Virtual Reality now, Cleaner!! Which means you can't hold me down any longer!! I'm coming for you!!!

~Vaughn begins to fly upwards at tremendous speed, leaving the scalded Satan behind, as he heads for the surface... and where he knows the location of Master Cleaner. Satan slowly gets up, watching him go.~

Satan: Huh. Well, that was unexpected. Bye bye now, Peter. I'll sure I'll see you again... probably sooner than you think.

~Satan dusts himself off, then slowly transforms back into JFK.~

JFK: At any rate, ah've got an orgy to get back to!

~He walks off, heading for the path down, as the shot focuses upwards again, seeing the blinding glow far above.~

---

~The image shifts to the sun high in the sky, shining down on the real world. The camera slowly comes down, leaving the sun behind and showing that we're in front of the Baylor University Medical Center in Dallas, Texas. Inside, we see a man hurrying down a hallway, sliding his cell phone into his pocket as he comes around the corner, almost running straight into a nurse there.~

Nurse: Please, sir, no running! We have enough patients here without adding a couple more to the mix!

~The man steps back, but doesn't move out of her way, as he's looking for information on the patient he's come to see. The camera slides to the right, showing the man's familiar face for all to see.~

Chris Page: I'm sorry, miss. Can you tell me how he's doing?

Nurse: The patient here? Are you family?

Voice: It's okay, nurse, he's basically family, he can come in.

~The nurse obediently, if reluctantly, steps aside, and Page immediately moves into the room. Seated next to the bed is Thomas Hill, the recently-discovered half-brother of Peter Vaughn. He gets up to shake Page's hand.~

Chris Page: Thomas.

Thomas Hill: Chris.

Chris Page: What's the update? They wouldn't tell me anything over the phone.

Thomas Hill: It's... well, it's not great, Chris. It's not great at all.

~Thomas looks to his left, with Page following his gaze. The camera quickly does the same, showing us the hospital bed in question... and giving us the view of a bandaged Peter Vaughn, lying unconscious in the hospital bed. We slowly fade out.~