Deep underground.



Several miles.



There was a secret bunker with several of some of the most powerful and most important people in the world gathered together.



Not for the first time.



They sat in silence around the large, circular table in their overly-secure safe-room that also came equipped with state-of-the-art security with personnel and full televisions and monitors set up everywhere monitoring everything.



The single door to the room finally opened and in walked someone with a natural look of disdain across their face.  They went past everyone carrying a briefcase that may have been a bit too big and weighed more than a ton.  They found the remaining spot and slammed down the briefcase before taking a seat.









"Thank-you all for arriving so promptly on such short notice.  I am Henry."  A quick, ugly smile flashed across his face then disappeared just as fast. 



Henry searched around until he found and read from it. 



"Let's start by going around the room.  Starting with you."



He thumbed to the man next to him, who stood up and stood tall.



"I am the General."









To his left, the self-performed role-call continued with a timid-looking Asian man.



"I am the Billionaire."













And so on.



"I am the Cardinal."













"The Lady."









There was a pause.  Everyone looked around in awkward silence before the General slapped the table.



"A-hem!"



The one ignoring or even perhaps oblivious to his turn was a young lad with his face buried in his phone.  He must've finally felt the stares upon him and looked up.



"What?  Oh, hey," he said, barely standing up.  "Prince."









The Prince was newer to the group.  He basically inherited a spot when his father had recently passed away.  BUT – We have no time for backstories today.  Back to the action!





"I am the Wiseman," finally said the old-timer, the last around the table. 









Henry had slid across the table to each person a large manilla envelope.  Prince went to open it immediately, but saw that no one else was and decided the same.



"Alright," Henry cleared his throat.  "In front of you is basically the same thing I'll be showing you up there," he pointed up to the big screen, "Feel free to follow along."



He aimed a remote above but hesitated, "And I doubt this has to be said, but as you know, lady and gentlemen, this is highly-classified." 



He then pressed a button and the big screen lit up with a picture.










"Minus the Prince, this should all be a familiar face to you all," Henry paused.  "Doctor Louis D'Ville has reemerged and, as always, is an immediate threat."



The Lady and the Cardinal groaned together.



"I thought we were good rid of him!"  The Cardinal preached.



"Yes, well, apparently Hell can't even imprison this asshole.  On the other hand, I doubt they want him around, either."



"So, what does he want this time?"  The General leaned in and spoke in a low tone.



"What is he up to?"  The lady sounded concerned.



The Prince watched from his seat, holding back a smile and was a little unsure how serious everyone was being.  He looked beside him at the Wiseman, who seemed to have been having a staredown with the picture on the screen.  Scanning the room again, he noticed the unrest and, dare I say, fear in some of the people sitting around the table.



"Are you guys serious?"  The Prince laughed.  "This guy is ancient!  What's the big deal exactly?"



In unison everyone shifted the glance his way.



"I'm just saying," he laughed uncomfortably, "Couldn't we just kill him or something?"



Some of the folks laughed, others got angry.  They murmured amongst one another and the meeting definitely began to grow out of order.  Henry had enough of it.



"Alright, alright!  Shut the fuck up."



He held up his hand and everyone stopped and listened.



"Prince, right?"



Prince smiled and leaned in.



"Shut the fuck up, sit there and listen, and you might learn something that could save your life someday.  Because that fucking guy right there…."



Henry pointed up to Doc on the screen.



"....  Has our FULL attention right now.  And with just cause." 



Click.



"On Friday, October 13 at 6:56AM, about eight miles outside of Las Vegas, a van was discovered by state law enforcement wrecked just off the highway containing three dead teenagers and a dead dog."



Henry clicked through several pictures. 



"Our people got in there and wrapped it up tight before it got too far.  Police were already ruling it some kind of murder-suicide as that could've been easy enough.  It was found on patrol, so unless someone drove by it and didn't bother reporting it, no public eye had their eyes on it."



"We assume it was him?"  The Billionaire finally chimed in.



"Wouldn't doubt it," said the General.  "But I doubt he even laid a finger on those poor people.  I've seen him do some incredible, yet…  scary shit with people's minds."



"It was him," Henry assured and clicked the button once more, moving on.



On the screen showed a pit a couple of miles further into the desert.  The sand was black and burnt and some sections even formed into glass.



"That's where he came out."



"Do we know where he is now?"



"We do."



Henry paused and looked around the room.



"Apparently while in Hell, he was encouraged to look into some…"  Henry leaned in and whispered.  "Personal Relations."



"What kind of personal relations?"



"The kind to help his image.  The point is…  We don't need anything else out there motivating him to do any more damage than what he's going to do."



"What do you propose?"



"Monitor him closely.  If anything gets weird, we take a closer look.  I'm actually kind of curious to see how this plays out."



















"Jolly good show, old man!"



Doc sat in the same office he did upon his arrival to Hell, across from Mister C's smiling face.



All in a day's work, my friend.  Bobby Bourbon is as foolish as they come and opportunities like these don't grow on trees, they fall from Bobby's pockets.



"Muahaha!  Very good!  So, what are you going to do now?"



Doc stared a hole through Mister C.



I'm not sure.  Mister Bourbon basically coerced me into action with his charities…  and endless prodding, so I suppose I'll just creep back into the shadows until another fun option presents itself.



"Oh," Mister C grumbled, "I see."



Is there a problem?



"Not necessarily."



Mister C trailed off as if he had more to say and Doc knew it.  He did just win a briefcase that contained a contract for basically a guaranteed championship……  but what?



"We just think that…."  Mister C trailed off again.



Doc tapped his foot impatiently.



Yes?



"Well we just think that you've gone dormant long enough.  And that it's time you get out there again and show the Universe and us that all of those little powers aren't going to waste.  And besides, you've gotten awful behind on your taxes, as of late."



Doc laughed.



"You laugh, but we have an understanding."


Doc didn't laugh.  The two made eye-contact and a silent acknowledgement was had.



"So, not that we expect a cash-in soon, but we'd rather see you make your presence known again before you get in there and ruin everyone's lives again."



Make my presence known?  No one's forgotten me.



"Correct!  The three or four people will still remember you…  But your lingering in the shadows have prevented you from really showing them your grip."



If it's more matches you want…



"Sure, sure, but we also want to get your name out there.  We also don't want to take your focus on whatever neck you're breaking that week either, okay?  To do so, we're going to provide you with an assistant!"



You are?!



"We're following the suit of a few other successful competitors we see in the XWF these days..."



Like who?!



"Well, Mark Flynn."



I think Mark Flynn is supposed to have someone walk around with him.  By-law.



"Bobby Bourbon."



Miss Tote is only there because Bobby Bourbon is lazy.  She has made him no better nor has she made him any worse.  Try again.



"Thunder Knuckles.  Universal Champion."



He doesn't have an assistant.  That's Jimmy, his so-called best friend.  When I worked with them over War Games all he did was degrade the guy and send him on errands.  Again, I'm not sold here.



"Oh, muahaha, the decision's already been made.  Once you get back upstairs and find your wits about you, he'll find you."



Who will?



"Your assistant, dummy.  Now, you should get going, because I'm going to get going.  It's been a long weekend with all of you wonderful, violent creatures coming down for a visit."



Doc let out a sigh.



Is there anything I have to do to find this…



Doc looked back up and found himself out of the office and in a casket in, where he'd guess is, the ground.  He blasted his way out of the ground, found some teenagers, and went along his merry way.









Weeks went by, he had a match, and there was nothing from the new assistant that was supposed to just randomly find him.  Doc believed after all this time that Mister C was just pulling his leg and there was nothing like that happening.



Doc had another match coming up, against Mark Flynn again.  The need for whatever Mister C and the rest of them all talked about was pointless…  Every bit of fear that Doc struck into the XWF before remained.  He's proven it by defeating Bobby Bourbon.  He easily disposed of Dick Powers.  Now, he'll be taking down a foe and evening the odds…  So again… What's the use of all of this?  To sell tee shirts?  Doc just stewed on this for weeks and as nothing happened, he didn't stew less…  More, more, more.



Hello, Mark Flynn.



So, we meet again, right?  Every time I show up, which is hardly ever (you've done the math), I usually end up going head-to-head with the biggest dick on campus.  Not that I choose 'em or anything, so, congratulations!  Somebody did.



Don't get me wrong, you kind of are!  We've talked about it before and I don't know or care diddly what you did before, but let me tell you…  The come back.  Wow.  There was so much hype for your comeback that I had to buckle Thad Duke's safety chair in the back extra tight so he couldn't fall out and bump his little head.  I'm shocked, after cleaning up all that excitement, that there wasn't a statue already erected of Mark Flynn standing at XWF Square, judging us through its stony glare.



I was behind the hype, too.  I was more curious what it was all about and I'd sound stupid if I said I was disappointed.  You're a jerk from end to end and fit perfect in this most fine federation.  We're both strong enough staples here that there will be no end to whatever measuring stick someone lays out in front of us.  We'll be better than it all.  This here, Mister Mark Flynn, this will be your turn to eat some words and show the world just how easily you can swallow them when they're forced.  The ego will follow closely behind it then you can go and help Bobby Bourbon with his rap battles and defend those Tag Team Titles and hide in that dead division like you wanted.  Good luck.