What they don't know is that Johnny won't press charges. He can't afford to deal with the boys in blue on that level. What they don't know is that they'll be bringing me up on lesser charges and I'll spend maybe a week in jail and pay some fines.

What they don't know is, that's exactly what I want.

The more they investigate, the longer they question me, the more power they give me. They think they hold all the cards, but little do they know they're playing right into what I need. I already know what's going to happen to me, I already know I won't be charged with anything major. I already know I won't be showing up for my match at Eternity.

I found a way around it. Nikita hasn't earned her shot at me yet, not even close. Since I can't just not show up without Corey Page firing me. I have an excuse. Being held on charges sure does have it's perks sometimes. It isn't that I fear Nikita, she's a pushover. It's the fact that she has an opportunity she doesn't deserve. There is no reason for her to have a shot at my championship, but she does. There's no reason for her to be getting over like she does, but she manages it. Everything just seems to fall into place for her whenever it needs to.

Sitting in the interrogation room gave me plenty of time to mull things over, and this was going to work out for the better. I decide when someone gets a shot at my title, not Corey Page. It's the little things he doesn't notice that sways everything. Maybe because he's too busy playing with his dolls or styling his pubic hair, but he doesn't see the slow and steady changes happening in Sin Wrestling. He doesn't see that Society is taking over. He doesn't understand that it isn't about winning, it isn't about getting over with the fans, it's about hurting people and making them understand that they are nothing. They're just monkeys dancing for Corey Page, and some of us have evolved passed that.

Other's have not.

I was hoping the detectives that would be questioning me would be the kinda cops you see in movies. Smashing you with a phonebook, cuffing you to the chair and pushing it over. You know, that kinda thing.

Violence in a position of authority.

What they didn't know was, I take harsher beatings week in and week out. I deliver harsher beatings week in and week out. There was nothing that they could do to me, that hasn't already been done.

I have no reason to fear anything that could happen to me. I would just need to deal with it. That's how things work in life. You deal with things and you get over them, if you don't. You get looked at funny or people think less of you. Maybe not all people, but the ones who wear their hearts on their sleeve and think no one should ever feel bad, ever. Those are the kind of people who will feel bad for you if you don't just roll with the punches and get over whatever is in your way. Unlike Nikita who has taken the liberty of asking Corey to ban everyone from the match. Going for the Lust Title, the belt that carries violence and destruction along where ever it goes, a belt that supposedly has no rules. Yet rules have been placed.

Nikita doesn't have what it takes to hold onto this championship like I have. There's no doubt about it. She begs Corey to put rules down on a match that isn't supposed to have rules, all because she can't handle what the belt stands for. If she happens to win my championship, it would do nothing but tarnish it's name and everything that the belt stands for. She would be a lesser champion then myself.

It would be quite similar to Flame holding the World Championship, if you know what I mean.

The smoke from the stale cigarettes filled my lungs and the coffee was beginning to get cold. It wasn't surprising that the police are just as slow as a hospital. I don't know how long I sat there waiting for something to happen. I knew they were probably getting a statement from Johnny, trying to get him to press charges even though there wasn't a chance in hell. If he was going to deal with this, he'd deal with this his own way.

Maybe they were running my files, finding nothing other then the people I've worked for or have been seen with. I'm sure all of this didn't seem anything out of the usual to the police except trying to find a motive. Neither person they speak to will give them any information and it shouldn't be surprising. Without question they have files on Johnny. Who he is, what he does, who he works for. They know more about him then he knows about himself, yet they don't care. They just want to take down the guy with the gun.

When the door finally flew open, I was ready for the worst of the worst. However, I was met with more disappointed looking fellas. I knew they had nothing, and they knew all they had was silly gun possession charges. Dumb fucks had their hopes up for a big arrest and got shat on.

One of the officers was a large black gentlemen in a cheap suite wearing bad cologne I could smell from across the room. It was making me sick to my stomach. The other, who was holding the files with his face buried in it, was an older irish cop in a slightly cheaper suite with his body odor as cologne. The smell was horrendous.

"You probably don't have anything to say either, do ya?" The Irish cop said with a sigh.

I looked up at him with a smirk on my face, he knew what was going on and there wasn't anything he could do about it. Poor guy. I almost felt bad. I glanced over at the officer by the door, who was just shaking his head and looking annoyed.

"I don't know what you're talking about officer." My tone reeked of "Fuck you."

"The other party doesn't want to press charges."

"What a shame." I knew what was coming next, and it was exactly what I wanted to hear.

"Don't think you're getting off that easy, pal. We're going to hold you on possession of an illegal firearm. Bail will be set in the morning." A hint of accomplish rang through his voice, but it wasn't what it could have been.

"Oh, tell the ol' judge to take his time. I have no intentions on posting bail." The two cops just looked at each other, confused.

"Right, whatever you say boss." The door opened back up and they began their exit. "An officer will take you to your cell in a few minutes. Enjoy your stay."

Even cheap shots couldn't hurt me. I got over on them harder then they could ever comprehend. The best part was, they had no idea. They played along exactly how I wanted them to.

A few nights on a prison cot and having to shit in front of other guys is a fair trade, for Nikita to learn she isn't worth my time.