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Manson 'The Martyr' · **11-30-2014, 11:40 AM**

Blood squirted out of the dead squirrel that went under the wheel of the dirty Land Rover that was packed with an assortment of Asylum soldiers. Harley Jack. who had opened the car door while the 4x4 was still in full motion on the road, swiped down and caught the squashed animal by its fluffy, red stained tail, before dropping it on his lap while licking his lips. The car came to a stop at the traffic lights and Manson took the time to smoke. Leaning one arm out the window, he spotted a massive mob of bible bashers, all holding up signs saying stuff like:

GOD HATES FAGS!

FAGS MUST DIE!

He thought they were a bunch of assholes. They were notorious, known as the Westboro Baptist Church. Notorious because of their choice of spreading the word of their fake god, especially their boycotting of famous people's funerals. He would love to see Frodo's reaction to this, he would go absolute ape shit on them. Suddenly he felt a hard hit on his shoulder, as well as several cars beeping. He turned to Lucius Fyre sitting next to him, who pointed to the now green traffic light. Manson pushed his foot down, as Harley Jack's little furry friend slipped from his fingertips and out of the window onto the road again. Groaning, he turned to Fury, who was tapping away on his laptop.

"Fuckin' 'ell. Y'all know 'dat coulda been a fine meal."

"Hush, Theo Pryce has posted a new promo on the XWF website."

"Well, fuck me. Why is he even botherin' to try?"

"I have no idea, but he is making a lot of trash talk towards you Manson."

Manson arches an eyebrow and stares at the two using the rear mirror. He then waggles his hand as a way of saying to Fury to carry on, but he is simply too dumb to understand, so Fyre sighs and turns around to the former convict.

"READ THE DAMN THING!"

"Oh... Well, he says some stuff about Hysteria, but I have no doubt that our um... great prophet will own him by himself. Okay... he starts by saying that you were never his friend and that he merely busted you out of jail because another guy called Mark Flynn who was his buddy did the same to him-"

"Okay, hold it right there. Keyword 'buddy'. He was your buddy. You bailed me out of jail too, so that means you obviously liked me maybe a tiny, tiny bit. But don't come back and say that it was just so I was prepared to fight in Wargames, that is bullshit. You didn't give a flying fuck about Wargames because you were so egotistical that you didn't bother to enter your match... but was it ego? Or was it merely because you knew you couldn't even beat a downed-and-out Eli James without your full health and the help of Evertrust and Sane? I think that is enough. Next."

"Uh... let me see here... he kind of compliments you, then afterwards questions your use of an insult generator-"

"Ah, fantastic. I was waiting for this to come along. Theo, I'm sure you notice that I that little widget very sparingly. It's usually used to make people like you feel a bit confused, because you have no idea what is being said. However, I'm going to stop using it against the one and only Theo Pryce, because it doesn't take much to confused that dumbass. He's nearly as mentally

as those two idiots in the back."

"Huh?"

"What did you say?"

"My point exactly."

"Okay... he says that you couldn't come up with that stuff yourself-"

"Nope of course I couldn't. Though I do come up with ninety percent of the other shit that you seem to be missing, but we all hear our insults from somewhere, right? I'm sure most of your other... insults are from somewhere else, maybe the internet or something you heard. Problem is, they are hardly insulting, so I will just call them '...'. I find decomposed bodies more offensive that you. Your ... aren't very good, so you should either use a insult generator full time, or find better sources. Or you should stop ...ing us. Yeah, that's a much easier and less time consuming solution."

"Mick, I think-"

"Sir."

"Sorry Sir, I think that's it."

"Fantastic-"

Fyre shouts, as Manson grips hold of the steering wheel, sharply turning onto the right lane, as the car had slowly drifted off into the way of a beeping petrol truck. Luckily, the 4xx4 narrowly misses potential death of all the inhabitants and returns to a straight position. Manson wipes off the sweat of his venom painted forehead, before looking straight at the dashboard, where the camera is filming from.

"Listen here, Theo. You think you can outsmart us, you think you can beat us, but it's quite simple. You can't. We have strength in numbers and we have faith. The will of the Higher Power drives us forward. You're wrong about Hysteria being the only one who knows who the higher power is, I do too and I promise that that very man can beat you for the Universal Title. Hell, he could beat Eli James, which is something you could never do fairly. When he is finally revealed, you will cower in your boots.You will not mock him any more and you will not dare to mock the Asylum.

Now, who's ready for some Chuck E. Cheese?"

There is a loud cheer as the car turns into the Chuck E. Cheese car park. The tyres rolled over the gravel, as Fyre rolls his eyes at the arrival, while all the other soldiers who managed to fit in the car, along with Fury and Jack, clapped like little kids being told they are going to Disneyland. Except, this place was so much better than Disneyland, right? Still, Manson wondered where Frodo, Hysteria and GT were. It was a little odd that he hadn't heard from them since they were meant to be coming up with a strategy for the match, but what can you do? It's not like they won't show up...

CRACK!

The driver's car door swung open and smashed a little kids nose that was now pouring with blood. Manson smirks and straightens his suit, before crunching along the gravel towards the reception. Harley Jack and Tyson Fury get their feet caught and fall out onto the already crying kid, probably breaking his ribs. Fyre drags them both off, along with a few other soldiers helping, before giving a half-assed apology to the angry mother and walking off to follow Manson. Manson was already at the front of reception, where he takes his phone out of his pocket to find that he had 10 missed calls, all from Tush. What the fuck could that IQless purple headed yoghurt slinger want? Who cares, it was the day of the Asylum, no one else.

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