As the gates to the castle opened Demos urged his stallion to gait into the well guarded court. Several armored guards with halberds lined the interior walls of the castle. Their eyes never leave Demos. A quartet of finely dressed trumpeters stand on top of the walls of the castle. They begin to toot their horns as a man dressed in a brown robe approaches Demos with a scroll in his hands. A crowd of onlookers gathers consisting mostly of servants and craftsmen, but a few knights turn their ear as the caller performs his function. The caller unravels the scroll and it comically falls to the floor. He clears his throat and reads aloud:


”ALL RISE!

Presenting……..

A 9-time Xtreme Wrestling Federation champion....

The Greatest Television Champion of all time....

The Number One Contender to the Universal championship....

…..
…..
…..

Demos.”

The man reads the masked man’s name off of the scroll with a complete lack of enthusiasm. Those gathered in the court immediately go back to their routine activities as Demos rides in on his visibly tiring horse. The man in the tunic tosses the scroll aside as he approaches Demos and grabs a hold of the stallion’s reins. The caller spoke with flat disinterest.

“The King is expecting you. Let me take your stead and water it. You’re just going to want to go through that door and climb the stairs. You literally can not miss it.”

The caller pointed to a door located in the center of the keep.



“The King waits behind THAT worn out door?”

“Hey, what I am I supposed to say, he likes the rustic look.”

Demos looked down at the caller in disbelief before begrudgingly dismounting his stallion. Demos swung his legs over to the same side of the saddle before hopping down into the grass below. The unimpressed court caller gently guided the gelding over to the stables to rehydrate the well trained beast.

Demos inhaled deeply before softly letting out all of his reservations, hesitations, and bitter feelings. He walked up to the discolored metal door and clasped his palm around the handle. He pulled the door open and stared up in confusion at the bizarre staircase set immediately behind the door.



The stairs and the guardrail look to have been rusted for decades. The paint along the walls is peeling onto the dirty floors which are covered with an inch of filth. A sunny day shines in from the multitude of windows built into the staircase. Demos scratched his head curiously as he considered where exactly that sunlight could be coming from. Demos approached the guardrail. As Demos placed his hands on the railing the guardrail suddenly gave way and began to lean over the edge.

Demos took a step back as he looked down towards the bottom of the staircase. It seemed to continue forever. Demos looked up at the ceiling. There was a long while to go, but it was clear that there was a ceiling atop the spiral staircase up above. Demos turned to his left as he sauntered up the spiraling staircase, taking great care to steer very clear of the guard rail along the edge. Demos kicked up dust and grime with every step he took on the rancid stairs but he didn’t seem to care.

Demos walked up the spiraling staircase for what felt like forever. Every so often Demos would stop to look up at the ceiling, but it never seemed to get any closer. After a half dozen or so glances at the ceiling Demos stopped walking and sighed softly. He closed his eyes as he leaned his head back on his neck.


“Why does the doctor have to make everything so difficult?”

”Just for a jolly good time, my dear Demos! How has my subject been since our last session?”

Demos immediately opened his eyes as the Mad King’s voice boomed through the room. Demos lowered his gaze and he found himself in the middle of the King’s throne room. Beside the King’s throne were two silver statues of knights kneeling.




Demos narrowed his eyebrows as his gaze fell upon Mad King D’Ville himself, perched comfortably atop his throne. The Mad King lifted an ornate mug to his mouth as he sipped on something delicious. The King licked his lips as he brought the mug down near his waist.





“What did you call me here for?”

“I noticed that you have yet to bend the knee for your King.”

Demos scoffed at the observation.

“Keep noticing it, D’Ville. It ain’t happening.”

“I am your King, Demos. You should know this better than anyone after all of our one on one sessions. My crown came at your expense, as you well know. If it’s no big deal to give the King your back, why such hesitation to give your king the knee?”

“It’s not hesitation, it’s paradigmatic refusal! I’m not like those kiss asses in the Brotherhood who spend all day sniffing each other’s jocks and taking group showers. The only knee you’re going to get from the Demos is to the face! Is this what you called me here for? To instigate a coup in your own keep?”

The Mad King couldn’t help but chuckle at the mention of coups. He stood up from his throne and began very slowly descending the tiny staircase in front of his throne as he responded to Demos’s concerns. The Mad King held the mug gingerly, taking great care not to spill even one sip of his beverage.


“No, no, no, of course. I was under no illusions that a relentless soul such as the Demos would ever bend the knee to a master, no matter how clearly the domination is laid out. Obstinance and stubborn pride is the way of your people, the good doctor is all too familiar.”

Mad King D’Ville stepped off the final stair. D’Ville kept his stride as he continued walking towards Demos. The masked figure puffed up his chest and stood tall as his long time glass ceiling approached him.


“My people clamor for glory. My fields cry out for blood. Our colosseum has been empty for far too long! It is well beyond time that I gave my loyal subjects the pleasure of viewing a fight for the ages. Demos and Chris Page ticks the box, or well, I suppose I will have to make it tick the box. If you listen as you should to your doctor and your king, we may just make something out of this bout yet!”

Demos rolled his eyes as it became clear to him that Doc D’Ville had only called him to the castle to listen to himself speak. The Mad King clasped a pleasant hand onto Demos’s shoulder as a crooked smile took hold of D’Ville’s face. The doctor brought the mug up to his mouth once again, except this time instead of taking a drink the King breathed in the fumes.

“Oh my, my, where are my manners? Would you like a sip, Demos?”

Doc D’ville brings the ornate mug up to Demos’s face for inspection. Demos leans back as the overpowering aroma of gasoline sets his nostrils aflame.


"Is it not to your liking? My, my, that explains so much about you, Demos!”


The Mad King took a break from addressing Demos to gulp gasoline down his iron gullet.


“Is this all you summoned me for? I don’t have time to play your games, I have a univers-”


King Doc interjected as he squeezed Demos’s shoulder tightly with his free hand. Demos couldn’t help but give his attention to the good doctor.

“The universal champion seems to have been on QUITE the tear these last couple of months, am I right? Yes indeed, it seems that his ENTIRE story is that he is the ultimate ubermensch. It will be quite the challenge for you, Demos. Are you prepared?”


Demos brushed the old man’s hand off of him as he cast a sneer in the direction of the King.


“I thought better of you than to become a prisoner of the moment, Doc! Page has told this same story for years. Despite setback after setback, Page was always quick to claim that he was the best wrestler to walk the earth! He has placed himself upon a throne that no one bows to. The masses can hear Page’s diatribes and dictates but they pay no mind to the words of a champion who has only beaten Big D and Little Drew! They are right to find his claims to be the greatest exceedingly laughable. I’m surprised you can tolerate his false claim to a crown!”


The Doctor smiled as Demos divulged his thoughts to the one time clinician.

”Is the situation as you say, Demos? If it is as you describe, then surely the people you claim to love are begging and pleading for a real championship match! It is time the Demos lived up to his mantra and finally gave the people what they wanted, wouldn’t you say?”

Demos grunted as he sized up the rambling ruler. The Mad King smacked his lips together as his mouth began to dry. D’Ville sipped on the delicacy inside his mug as Demos unwittingly expressed his innermost thoughts to the long time psychotherapist.

“-IF- it is as the Demos describes? My tongue can spread no lies! I know the people demand a new champion. The only thing that this lowly universal reign has done is pet Page’s pussycat ego and make him believe something that just isn’t true. The Brotherhood is far from untouchable, despite Page’s hollow words. But I have the sneaking suspicion that Page has fallen under the spell of his own bullshit.

The supposedly great and innovative Chris Page is doing nothing but reading from that same old BOB script. It didn’t work for Andre Dixon. It didn’t work for Miss Fury. It didn’t work for Jenny Myst. It didn’t work for Thunder Knuckles. It didn’t work for Big Puddin. It didn’t work for Oswald. It didn’t work for Barney Green.

So why would that familiar BOB gameplan beat Demos this time? They clearly need a new strategy!

They need to hire some more coaches and screenwriters, because everything the Brotherhood has done up to this point has failed to stop the path of the Demos!”

“A familiar script you say? And how does that script go, Demos?”


“It’s the same old dribble every class traitor espouses before the guillotine drops.

‘Demos is weak because he has never beaten anyone good’

‘Demos is ugly and stupid’

‘Demos smells bad’

The bourgeois collaborators never wish to engage the Demos on the merits. They never wish to speak about my mission to liberate the working class. They never wish to speak about their roles in spreading capitalist propaganda. They never wish to acknowledge where they have gone wrong, or where they can correct their errors! They never admit their sin. They always force the Demos to drop the blade upon their retreating necks.

Chris Page twists and turns like a snake as he ties himself into knots. Over these last few weeks Chris Page has slithered in the mud so much he’s become filthier than the bedsheets at a brothel. Alas, Page has gotten himself so twisted up these last few weeks that even his attempts to sling dirt towards the Demos does nothing but blow up in his face! The poor man, he’s truly lost the thread.”


“Oh now Demos, be realistic! Chris Page is the universal champion...surely he’s bringing something to the colosseum that others aren’t!”

“While Chris Page has put a couple of new attacks in his playbook, each and every one of them has proven a tremendous failure. His most common move is to remind the fans that the flesh and bone of the Demos won Thunder’s TV belt by beating every BOB member in a battle royale.

Chris Page knows that I have victories over his entire fleet, over his entire ‘inner circle’ or ‘upper echelon’. One after the other they all fell to the Demos inside the ring! Tag team matches, singles competitions, battle royales, it mattered not! I can’t imagine why it matters to Chris Page so much. What could compel him to obsess over this one royale?”


“Think deeper, Demos. Can you really not understand why the battle royale digs deep beneath the skin of the universal champion?”

A few moments of silence passed by as Demos pondered the question. Doc D’Ville drank the last of his gasoline as Demos thought through the question.


“Well…….I can imagine why Chris Page is constantly trying to shovel dirt on the elephant in the room. If the Demos can defeat every single active member of BOB all at one time, what can he do to Chris Page in singles competition? It’s a question Chris Page is trying desperately to get ahead of. He wants to ‘control the narrative’. No matter. The Demos will control the ring on Saturday night.”


As the last drop of fluid hit the fiery King’s tongue he slammed the ornate mug against the floor, shattering it into a thousand pieces. Demos took a shocked step back as D’Ville looked to him with a satisfied smirk. The King stepped over the pieces of glass as he crossed his arms beneath his back.

“Do you know what it took for Chris Page to be the top man?"


Demos blinked a few times. It took him a few seconds to get over the doctor’s outburst.

“All of the greats had to step aside. Robert Main had to be knocked out of the picture by Reggie Estrada and your little freebird experiment.

Sarah Lacklan had to leave the active roster and join management. Shawn Warstein had to flee to the border territories. James Raven, Centurion, Unknown Soldier all had to semi-retire for Chris Page to finally take his turn on the carousel.

He was so excited to finally hop on that golden pony! He had waited nearly twenty years for this moment, after all. Of course, Chris Page won the universal championship from a man he deemed to be one of the weakest champions of the century. Does that weaken the moment for him? Did it sour the taste of his victory? We could only begin to speculate. The Demos will never know the answer to such a question. My universe will be built with the bones and hide of the beast himself.”

The Mad King raised a quizzical eyebrow at Demos.

“The....the Beast….was Chris Page the beast, or the monstrosity? Which one was Robert Main? I Oh do forgive me, Demos. I try to stay up to date with all my patients, but sometimes it truly does become a struggle.

I haven’t seen those demons of Page since Robert Main left the frame. Perhaps Page finally took the good doctor’s advice and took his script to the pharmacy!”

The Demos squinted as he cocked his head to the side in disagreement.

“Have you not heard the delusion spewing from Page’s lips? He thinks Betsy Granger beat Charlie Nickles and he thinks Jenny Myst beat the Demos! The man is far past the brink of insanity. Page has truly gone mad. Basic facts become nothing linguistic playthings inside of his sick mind. Doc, is this what reefer madness is?

If Page is going to the pharmacy the only medicine he’s getting is under the counter!

Chris Page lies like an addict. Even when all the facts are staring him in the face he will lie through his methed up teeth. Thunder Knuckles wasn’t in the battle royale? These hands didn’t lift Thunder Knuckles over the top rope with a suplex? Why is he even lying about this? EVEN IF someone buys his moldy bologna, that just means Thunder Knuckles has zero wins and only TWO losses against the body of the Demos!

Is that…..

Is that…..

Is that something Chris Page would be proud of? Is that what he spent years building this faction to do? Are we supposed to believe that BOB’s embarrassing record against Charlie is all a part of Page’s evil plan?

Chris Page says he hand selected every single yes man in his inner circle…..was it Thunder’s impressive 0 and 2 record against the no good terrible Charlie that earned him his spot? Is Chris Page so insistent on this lie because an 0 and 3 record would be a step too far, an unbearable blemish upon BOB’s record?”

Demos shook his head in confusion as Doc D’Ville tilted his head forward towards Demos. The Mad King seemed to hang on Demos’s every word.

“Lies spew out of Page’s mouth like shit out of my asshole. Chris Page may have spent months, even years, plotting, scheming, and mostly dreaming of Robert Main’s downfall. But still he did not have a hand to play in it! It was Reggie Estrada and Continuum that brought Main’s momentum crashing to a halt! The Omega even admitted as such when he said that he intentionally lost the X-treme championship belt just before winning a briefcase because he did not wish to disappoint the Mad King with cheap tricks and cash ins! How can Chris Page credibility take credit?!”

Demos raised his hands pleadingly with Doc D’Ville as he searched for an answer to the madness.

“Well Chris Page says this is all part of his glorious plan, does he not? What do you think his full plan is? Perhaps Robert was just another piece of his puzzle after all….”


“It’s all smoke and mirrors….it has to be. Chris Page doesn’t have a plan: no plan goes so perfect for so long. Chris Page is lying through his teeth when he says he’s laying traps and brewing plots….all he’s doing is beating around the bush for weeks at a time! I wish Chris Page would tell us if it was in his little plans to lose the tag team gold. The only world in which that makes sense is if Page believes the only way he could truly hurt Robert Main was by costing him the tag team titles!”


The former tag team champion snickered as Demos mentioned Cataclysm’s High Stakes defeat. The Mad King wiped some snot from the bottom of his nostrils before rubbing his fingers on his robes.

“But Demos….you do not think I called you here to talk about Chris Page or the Brotherhood, did you? Oh no, no. That is no urgent matter at all, not for you at least, Demos. Have you heard the news from your keep?”

Doc didn’t try too hard to hide the grin stretching from ear to ear.

“What are you talking about?”

“It is an absolutely urgent, pressing matter of the highest order!”

“You made me wait weeks for this meeting after summoning me!”

“I had business to attend to, dear Demos! A King is always busy!”

“Just spit it out, old man.”

The Mad King chuckled a few times as Demos began to grow incensed.

“My scouts report to me that flames have spread across your fields! Your castle walls have crumbled. A grave threat has arisen in your midst.”

“WHAT?!?!”

“They said it was a terrible sight to behold! Women and children screaming as a madman cuts them down.”

“Speak plainly!”

“Oh Demos, the story has turned so foul. Charlie Nickles himself has risen from the grave! And while Charlie may have escaped the reaper, the miscreant has sent dozens in his place! I’m afraid, my friend, that the Steubenvilla is aflame!”

Demos sprinted to the door on the far side of the room. It was locked. Demos pounded against the door and pulled on the handles to no avail. The furious man turned back to face the Mad King.

“Is this one of your tricks?! You truly are mad!”

“Oh Demos, I merely wish to help you set your house in order before you reach for the stars!”

“Charlie isn’t doing anything, is he?!”

“Ohhhh Demos, if only it were so easy for you. My, my, my, how mistakes have been made. But no matter, Demos, I know you will only grow stronger when- no, -IF- you are able to take back that which was conquered for you!”


“You’re lying! You wouldn’t have summoned me weeks ago for this!”


“Go see for yourself, Demos!”


The Mad King moved his hands up his chest and neck before extending them above his shoulders in a classic Golddust fashion. The doors behind the masked man creak open slowly. As the doors roll open Demos turns around and sets sights upon his stallion who is saddled and seemingly ready for the long journey ahead. Demos makes a mad dash towards the stallion as D’Ville beams with satisfaction. Demos jumps into the saddle and takes the horse’s reins into his palms.

“Demos! Before you go, you must tell me! All these offers, all these BOB-Bets: which ones are you going to take?”

The masked man turned around with a sneer plastered to his face. He replied curtly before riding off towards Steubenvilla.

“ALL OF THEM!”