Cadryn manages to free one arm from the bindings The Dark Warrior bound him in and raises his hand to signal he has a question.

Just a couple of questions there, doc. First of all, who the hell keeps a cheese grater in their desk at their office? Like, seriously? Did you have some kind of cheese farm out back that required you to grate cheese on a daily basis? I know, I know, cheese isn't grown on a farm. But, you get the gist of what I'm saying. Let's clear the air real quick. I'd hate for you to get some kind of mangled story from a guy who isn't sane enough to use it as a last name. You know, come to think of It, I probably should have put two and two together when I realized his name was “Justin Sayn”. I would love to say it's a clever play on words, but it really isn't. My wallet seems to speak more for my actions than my intelligence, and you were definitely the cheapest! Anyways, back on topic. The reason I began seeing the doctor to begin with, was because I had a lot of deep seated issues with my mother. I won't bore you with all of the details, I'll just clue you in on the important ones. When I was 13 I was woken up to a hand gripped around my manhood, stroking it up and down. Seeing as how my father was absent in my life from birth, and I didn't have any brothers or sisters, you guessed it. It was my mother. This continued from the ages of 13-18, to the point that I gave up the fight and just let her have her way with me. Until one night, I snapped. Our nightly ritual was to eat a bowl of Life cereal before going to bed, so that she could have her way with me. Something about myself felt different that night. It's like a hatred had manifest inside of me, and regardless of what she wanted, I knew that this had to end. I always finished my cereal first. I was a good boy. And, we weren't your typical American family, obviously.

So when I say that we ate a bowl of cereal, it was more like I ate a bowl of cereal, and her fat ass ate a boiling pot full of cereal. So, as always I stood up and proceeded to take my bowl to the sink and rinse it. As I said, I was a good boy. After rinsing the bowl and setting it inside of the sink, my mind began to race. I knew that tonight could not go on like any other night, but I had to figure out the best way to stop it. I could grab a knife from the drawer and slit her throat from behind, or maybe even smash her skull in with a frying pan. Those all seemed overly dramatic. However, it's a well known fact between her doctors that she has narcolepsy. So, maybe she just happens to fall asleep face down in her cereal and drowns? That seems fairly easy to cover up. So I take a few steps towards her, and I embrace her with the biggest hug I've ever given. It almost felt sincere. She looks up and says “My, my, you are a loving boy tonight. Are you getting excited for things to cum?” Yes, she used that delightful play on words, which only proved to anger me more. I looked her dead in the eyes and I said “It seems fitting that Life works only in taking death from those undeserving. Being that it's a shit cereal and all.” She looked perplexed, and irritated by the last words she'd ever hear. Suddenly, I grab her by the back of the head and force her head down into the boiling pot full of milk, submerging her up to her ears. She struggled for a moment as I leaned in and whispered in her ear “Shh, it'll all be over soon, mother.” The struggling stopped. I would like to tell you I moved the body, or that I was smart enough to dispose of it, but I wasn't. Ever see one of those hazmat tents they use to quarantine an area? Yep, that's what is currently constructed in my kitchen, and has been for the past 12 years. It's fairly easy to conceal something like this when you have no friends and no other family. There hasn't been a soul in my house in over 12 years. I sleep in that house every night, so what does that say about me? So there you have it, folks. That's the reason I coined the phrase Cereal Killer and that's also the reason that I began going to Justin Sayn in the first place, for an outlet and a little bit of guidance. Although, as it stands, I'm fairly certain he was never a real doctor. Potentially he graduated from the University of Phoenix online, but I doubt that's true either. And part of me knew this from the beginning, but hey, it's always fun to pay for friendship, right?

Anyways, Justin, a few more questions and we can wrap this up. This is fun! Me getting to play the doctor and you getting to play the patient. Granted, I'm not sure if you'll ever hear this or not because I don't know if Gravy left his webcam going. I heard him get up and leave the room, and I heard him smack something off his desk, but oh well. Either way, here we are. Justin, my dear, you say that after I left one day you decided to bring up some repressed childhood memories, and that's what led you to cut off your face? Did mommy touch your peebug too? Or wait, no, you said it was an “accident”? What accident? It claimed half your face? Well, I feel like I have the right to know which half of your face was made of Playdoh. Duuuuuuude, you cut off half your face! And I don't even know which half was real and which one was Playdoh! And now you want to find me and inflict that same pain on me? Oh hell no, buttercup. You ain't touchin' the beautiful canvas. I've been told I resemble Kevin Bacon, and he's like the sexiest actor in history. My insanity caused you to cut off your Playdoh face? Did you ever think to yourself that maybe being a psychiatrist wasn't a good idea if you couldn't handle the workload? I feel like a guy who made half his face out of Playdoh and sadness probably isn't qualified to be a shrink. And furthermore, you pick the worst cereals to use in your analogies! Nobody eats Corn Flakes or Shredded Mini Wheat anymore you insufferable prick. You are right, I sure as hell know a lot less about you than I previously thought. But when it comes to a physical stand point, you stand no chance. All I'll have to do is hand you a cheese grater and you'll be occupied for an hour shaving off random parts of your body. Also, WHY ARE YOU AT THE ARENA LIKE 6 DAYS EARLY LOOKING FOR ME? Who the hell goes to the arena 6 days early? Are you actually ? It's okay, if you are. I just feel like I need to know, because it probably puts a stipulation on our match or something. You went to the arena and you didn't even talk to anyone! Who in the hell were you spouting all this nonsense to? Yourself? If it wasn't for the fact that they had a lone security camera set up to catch your jabbering I wouldn't even know you knew we had a match. And you fucking call me crazy?! And what's with the coin, Harvey Dent? Who the hell needs a coin with the same thing on both sides?! That severely hinders your chances, by the way. You asked if I was prepared to put my life on the line? No? Why in the hell would I do that? I already imagine you walk around town flipping that coin and carrying a Tommy gun in a violin case, so leave that crazy shit behind. “When the darkness fall thy nightmare shall begin”. Are you kidding me, right now? You walked around talking to yourself for an hour, just so you could end with that sad excuse for a one liner? At this point, I might just stay in this closet. Because, it's somehow MORE productive than actually getting into the ring with someone like you.

Cadryn feels something in his pocket poking at his leg. Cadryn reaches into his pocket to find his cell phone. It looks like Graves forgot to take it from him when he threw him in the closet. Cadryn quickly turns on the flashlight and begins to unbind the rest of his body. Once free, Cadryn begins searching the closet for something to potentially help him out of this predicament. Cadryn comes across an old footlocker style chest with a combination lock on it. Cadryn, being the slick individual that he is jokingly puts in “6 6 6” as the code. The lock pops open. Cadryn gleefully opens the chest and shines the light inside. Quickly Cadryn takes a step back, a look of shock across his face.

That's right, sports fans. Cadryn stumbled across the decomposing body of “The Franchise” Michael Graves.

Cadryn smiles and with no hesitation whatsoever, reaches into the chest, grabs a hold of The Franchise's head, and pops it clean off. That's right, he decapitated him with his bare hands. Cadryn pulls the severed head closer to his own face, smiling ear to ear.

Cadryn pauses for a moment before exclaiming excitedly..

Cadryn looks at Fravey, looks at the slats located in the middle of the closet door and in one deft move, shoves Fravey through the closet door and out the other side. Cadryn peers out of the hole in the door to make sure the coast is clear before breaking through the remainder of the door.

Cadryn picks up Fravey and begins to slowly inch his way towards the office door. Cadryn and Fravey drop down to the ground and begin army crawling out the door and through the house. Cadryn and Fravey make it to the front door unseen! It appears Graves has left temporarily.

Cadryn and Fravey dash out the door, and sprint to the car. Cadryn delicately places Fravey on the gearshift, like a shifter knob and proceeds to drive away unseen.