The arena staff parking area was dark, the lone security guard paced the lot waving his torch here and there illuminating the cars of the wrestlers. The torch light shone for a moment on a rusty campervan.

SG: What a trash boat. Hope whoever owns that gets a pay rise.

The guard walked away, a clink like noise didn't even deter him from his patrol.

Shortly after the guard turned the corner a shadow crept out from behind the van and unlatched a back pack, pulling out a few spray cans.

The shadow climbed onto the camper and started spraying vulgar slurs towards the Scottish before it stopped and pulled out a small container of liquid from the bag.

Shadow jumped down from the hood of the van and unscrewed the lid of the container, splashing it about the camper's side in some artistic way. When it was done the Shadow poured some more liquid onto the ground and led it away into the darkened car park.

A spark fired up and Shadow was holding a lighter, it lit the trail of liquid which sparked to life and raced towards the van. A clatter of feet startled Shadow who jumped over the fence and legged it away from the scene. The security guard stopped dead in his tracks as he spotted the fire.

SG: Ah front desk, who owns the campervan out here in the starts parking lot?

A reply muffled by static came through.

SG: Zhivago? Well can you get him out here and maybe have the Fire department on call.

More static came through..

Moments later the doors at the rear of the arena burst open and Joe Zhivago came running through the parking lot.

Joe: What the hell!!? That's my van - who did this?

The security guard turned around to look at the fuming newcomer.

SG: Well it clearly states whose responsible for this, as for who did it. I have no idea.

Joe started reading the slurs on his windshield, mouthing Gyppo Scum to himself before moving to the side of the camper. The flames had died down only doing damage to the paint work scarring it with the brand: Property of the Gentlemen's Club.

Sirens could be heard in the distance, Joe stepped back and knocked over a glass container which began to roll into the light of the security guards' flashlight. Bending down Joe picked it up and read the label.

Joe: It's Kerosene..

He turned and glared into the darkened car park but couldn't see anything out there, the only sounds were the sirens getting closer and the sound of applause from within the arena....

The camera pans to the announce team.

	Poor Joe.
	What a night so far.

	I know and Hatton number two is up.
	Just how many Hattons are there?

	Who knows.
	Wrex is about to make his debut to Turmoil and it's next.

Grayham Hatton

vs

Wrex

The camera pans to the announce team.

	They lit up the crowd tonight.
	That's how it's done here.

“My brothers! My sisters! Lend me your ears.”

The powerful voice of Grand Master Pyles prompted a great swishing of clocks. Brown robed hooded figures obediently fell into congregation around simple wooden altar. The worshipers were pressed closely together in a small decrepit room. The walls were uneven and rough brown brick forcing the mysterious figures near the wall to shift uncomfortably.

Two hoods bobbed a bit more in the back near a archway entrance. They seemed to be motioning to each other, but the voice of Grand Master echoed through the room and their conversation went unnoticed.

Jacob Trance leans over as discreetly as possible and whisper frantically: This is your dumbest idea yet!

Loki: In Nomine...um...Deja...Vu..Ollie….Trance, be chill. Just say the incantation.

Trance: No. We need to get out of here…

Loki: I didn’t force you to be here!

Trance: You told me we were going to Dairy Queen!

A nudge and shh from a nearby man caused Loki and Trance to hush for moment.

Loki: Um...Oppaa see teee omma…

Trance glared at Loki and whispered: That’s not how you say it!

Loki: How in the name Satan do you know that?

Trance: I used to lead a cult you daft fool.

Loki:.....Touche….Look with Winters and Crowe joining forces to take my Tag Team Belts I figured the best way to beat Satanists is to think like a Satanist!

The room had fallen silent. Trance quickly stomped on Loki’s foot to silence him. They remained still while the room waited patiently. No one had yet uncovered that two spies had infiltrated their ranks.

Grand Master Pyles: Now, brothers and sisters, we pledge our life to Lucifer and all his unholy doings. Yet it is not all without sacrifice for those that hold faith with our fallen lord can enjoy the gifts he provides as long as we continue to do his bidding. Such a reward was recently given. I call on brother Mathias to stand up and speak.

An obese member of crowd lumbered forward forging a large path from his position near the far way all the way to alter. He began to climb it with trepidation as it creaked under his weight. In fact all who were near it began to slowly back away as much as they could.

Mathias: Thank you Grand Master, and fire and ash for our savior Satan.

Crowd: Fire and ash.

Mathias: Long have I found comfort in an obscure form of entertainment--

Trance: I’m going to kill you.

Loki: That’s the spi--wait, did I hear him right?

Mathias: OCW has long been a source of comfort for me and many members. OCW truly represents the greatest of Satan’s gifts, The Seven Deadly Sins. No episode is complete without the lust of Casey Pain, the Gluttony of Bill Ding. No show could be considered the same without the Greed of Mugen or the Sloth of Gentleman Jack. I particularly love the Wrath of Malu and the Pride of Dennis Black. Indeed I hope that Bray returns so that I can witness as Envy continues to consume him.

Mathias: Praise be to Satan for this wonderful show!

Crowd: Praise!

Loki nudges Trance: I bet some of them are even fans of us!

Through gritted teeth Trance responds: Look up at the ceiling.

Loki slowly tilts his head up to the fire illuminated ceiling: Oh…

Mathias: BUT IT’S NOT PERFECT! No! For all the darkness that sweeps the hallways of OCW there still remains examples of things...and people...who should be destroyed! As this is my day to beg for a mighty present from our fiery lord, I have written my request in blood so that Lucifer can understand my devotion and desire! Feast your eyes above. My request drips from the ceiling.

The crowd looks up to see dull red stains spell out: Kill The Loki.

Mathias: Please Lucifer kill the Loki. Consume him in a fiery hell, burn his flesh from his bones. Make him suffer!

Loki distracted by the shocking sight forgets to keep his voice down: THAT’S NOT CHILL!

The room freezes. Loki doesn’t seem to notice. Everyone turns around to look at Loki and Trance.

Loki: I mean come on! That’s obviously Ketchup! And what do they….they...what...oh boy.

Loki finally realizes that everyone is glaring at him.

It dawns on Trance that he isn’t quite as young as he once was and that this angry mob would easily chase him down. Acting quickly he does the only thing that might give them both a chance at getting out alive. He reaches over and yanks down the hood of Loki.

Trance: Look! It’s The Loki!

Loki looks wide eyed at the crowd and then back at Trance, then back at the crowd, then back at Trance. Trance does his best subtle nod to the door while the Satanists look confused about what to do next.

Loki finally picks up on the hint or at least most of it. Lashing out he kicks Trance square in the jewels and begins to run.

Trance crumples to the ground with a shout of pain. Reeling on the floor he manages to point at the fleeing Loki: GET HIM!

A shout goes up from the mob as they begin to stampede. Shouts of “burn him,” and “cut out his eyes” can be heard as the rummage by. Loki begins to scramble for his life, running aimlessly through the building as the foaming at the mouth horde gives chase.

Back in the main room Trance now sits alone, looking all around him before he stands up. He slowly dusts himself off and approaches a stone idol of Baphomet that has been adapted by the cult for their needs, a bust of the head of Loki underneath its left foot. In its right hand it holds a scalped mohawk, in the left it clutches a wooden paddle.

Trance: That's not so bad actually…

Trance mutters to himself as he begins to free the paddle from the statue.

Meanwhile, Loki has managed to escape the building by sheer chance, driven like a rabbit inspired by a dog. His sense of direction has finally failed him as he finds himself cornered in a dead end.

Mathias: Thank you oh lord below for giving us this chance to spread the great word in your name. Thank you oh lord for giving us the chance to salute the great redeemer by removing the greatest enemy of all things decent with wrestling.

Loki looks around frantically, there's no way out. Two of the larger men approach him as Mathias begins to direct traffic. A beat down ensues as Mathias plays cheerleader, Loki curls up into a ball to try and protect himself.

Mathias: Hold the rooster still, we must remove his source of power!

Mathias draws closer, drawing a disgustingly curved blade from his robe, running his tongue along it as Loki is held up. The little man closes his eyes right, babbling in fear: Not chill, not chill.

His protests are cut off with a yelp when Mathias wrenches his hair back, preparing to cut. Loki closes his eyes, waiting to meet his maker, but it never comes, instead there is a loud cracking noise followed by Mathias hitting the deck. One of the men holding him lets go, bellowing something incomprehensible. Loki opens an eye in time to see Mathias lying prone, a paddle snapped in two nearby and the other of his attackers being back body dropped unceremoniously into a dumpster by Trance.

With his friend in danger Jacob moves in on the final man, his eyes cold like a wounded bull. The pounding of feet fills the air as the rest of cult shows up, Jacob planting a foot on Mathias’ prone form. The masses drop to their knees as soon as they see this, uttering praises in a foreign tongue. Loki is dragged towards Trance by his remaining captor.

Follower: What do we do now with the serpent, oh lord?

Jacob chuckles at the strange predicament, what a chance to finally be rid of Loki.

Trance: I shall deal with him.

Loki goes wide eyed and begins to protest but a hand is clamped over his mouth, silencing him.

Trance: You shall be purged.

Without another word, Jacob lands a hard right hand to Loki's unprotected jaw, knocking him unconscious. The assembled crowd cheer and scream with delight as Jacob seizes his quarry by the leg.

Trance: Let no man follow, for what I do now is the most secret of work!

Jacob begins to drag Loki away by the foot and away from the area. A long time passes; all noise from the crowd dies out and they draw up upon Trances car. Without a word he opens the back door and dumps Loki inside before getting into the driver's side himself. The scene fades with Jacob driving off, taking Loki to whatever may be his fate.

The camera pans to the announce team.

	Jacob Trance... SISSY!!! LOKI... HUGE SISSY!!!
	Like them or not, they're the tag team champions Randy and they successfully defended the championships at the 12 year.

	They fought Austin Lee. Even I could win a match against Austin with one arm tied behind my back.
	I would love to see that. Now stop hating. It's killing my mood here.

The locker room was silent and dimly lit, perfect for someone who didn't want to be disturbed.

Sitting in a darkened corner of the room, illuminated by his cell phone screen was Sebastian Abbott a look of nervous concern crossed his moustache-less features.

The phone buzzed in his hand, he looked back down and opened the message. It simply read: It's done. S.

Smiling to himself, Seb put the phone in his bag and walked towards the locker room door.

Seb: It's good to be back.

The camera pans to the announce team.

	Seb, it's great to have you back.
	GLORIOUS... Not!

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