As I said, I totally knew Necro was following me, but I wanted to make him and everyone else think that I didn’t know. So I walked down the hall, with my apple, feeling pretty secure. To the untrained eye, I might have seemed nonchalant as if I didn’t know Necro was behind me the whole time, but I merely wanted to take a relaxing stroll.

I’d been at the arena for several hours before the match began and I was pretty familiar with the layout. I knew where the conference rooms were. I made my way through the arena, avoiding the crowded areas, of course followed by a camera.

Finally, I found Conference Room B. Being arrogant like I am, I decided to put my ear against the door and listen to what was being discussed rather than simply toss the apple in and win the match.

“The next item on our agenda is to agree on the main page layout of the EC newsletter,” I could heard Maverick saying through the thick mahogany doors. I heard the sound of some paper rustling. “Here it is,” he said.

“You put our pictures and bios on the main page?” remarked Burnt. “That’s cool.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be commentating right now?” asked Maverick.

“No, Davros asked me to give up my spot to Philly Fats during this match for some reason,” Burnt answered.

“That’s weird,” said Icehawg. “So Philly doesn’t count as EC?”

“No, he’s Wrassle Staff, right?” asked Martini, the newest member of the EC. “Editor-in-Chief, Event Coordinator, and CPO are Staff jobs, right?”

“Exactly,” said Maverick. “The four of us are the only people on the EC.”

“Hey!” Defcon whined. “I’m here too!”

As amusing as it was to listen to them bicker like little children, I decided it was time to throw the apple in and secure my place in Wrassle history as the first ever back-to-back winner of the Bar Room Brawl. I reached for the handle and began to open the door.

Of course, before I could get it open, Necro decided to attack. He speared me from the side, knocking me down, allowing the apple to fly from my grip. He dove over me, reaching for it as it rolled away, but I wrapped my arms around his legs. He kicked violently like a girl and squirmed free.

Necro crawled across the floor, picking up the apple. He jumped to his feet and turned to face me. He had the apple and the door to Conference Room B was open, but he still had to get past me. I moved closer. Necro feinted left, but I blocked his path.

“Gimme the apple . . .” I ordered him.

“Not gonna happen, Proto,” he said, trying to hide his fear.

Suddenly, the mysterious figure appeared again. He stepped out from a dark corner of the hallway, holding my shovel in his hands.

I was pissed off something fierce that he would dare to touch my shovel, but he had helped me numerous times, and I decided to give him a few seconds to explain himself before I cut his head off with an axe. In those few seconds, I took a moment to appraise him. He was a white guy with black hair, a black t-shirt, and blue jeans. There was nothing remarkable about him at all.

The man smiled at me, then reached into his pocket. He removed a pair of black sunglasses and put them on his face, adjusting them slightly. “I . . .” he said, “am cool.”

“Von!” I cried out angrily.

It was my ****-face brother the whole time.

“Why did you help me?! What the hell is going on here?!” I demanded.

“Just for fun,” he said, shrugging.

“Fun?!” I shouted.

“I saw you on TV,” he remarked. “you were so proud of yourself, thinking that you might become the first two-time BRB champion. I just had to come along and ruin it for you.”

“Ruin it?” I asked.

“You will always look back on this day and wonder if you could have won it without me,” he said.

“What did you do? Distract Necro while I hit him? Bash him over the head with a trash can?” I asked sarcastically.

(I knew he hadn’t really hit Necro with the trash can. I just pretended I thought that.)

“No,” said Von. “I did this.”

Von raised the shovel and swung it as hard as he could at Necro. Apparently, while we were discussing the whole thing, Necro had worked the whole thing out in his mind. As we’d talked, he’d been preparing himself for such a moment.

As the shovel swung, Necro ducked. The thing arced over his head, missing him by inches, and struck me across the face. The last thing I heard before I blacked out was Von’s voice.

“This is not cool.”