The old brick warehouse squatted at the edge of a forgotten street, its walls weathered and cracked. Rusted fire escapes clung desperately to its sides, parts of the rail missing and the descending ladders groaning in the wind of the September night. What had once been a factory now stood converted into a single cavernous loft, though the word converted felt generous.

Inside, the space was dim and uneven, shadows stretching out long with minimal lighting. The concrete floor was scuffed and stained, patched over in places where time and water had done its damage. Old mismatched furniture littered the space, frayed armchairs, a sagging sofa that might have been rescued from a curb, wooden tables marred by cigarette burns and knife gouges. Appliances leaned crooked.

Every corner of the loft was a place where madness could make itself comfortable. Anyone who called this place home would have to be nuts. A fitting thing because …

Against one wall, Anthrax lay sprawled on a battered military cot. The thin mattress sagged beneath his taut but muscled frame. His makeup was half-wiped but still smeared across his face, the dry residue cracking sand painted chips falling off to the blanket that covered him partially. Even in slumber, his body twitched with spasms of laughter, and every so often he let out a maddened, childlike giggle.

Across the loft, another door was half open into the demented world of Twisted Sister who was busy at play with her recent Barbie and Ken purchases. Her room was a shadowed shrine to something both childlike and profane. The centerpiece was a Barbie Dreamhouse, but not one as it was meant to be. Anthrax had long ago“renovated it. Its pastel pink walls had been painted over with dripping black streaks and the plastic windows were broken off, a few remaining but hanging on the plastic hinges. All of Barbie’s luxurious furnishings were replaced by makeshift replacements, crafted from cardboard or bits and pieces dug out of the trash and turned into something else. And where Barbie’s pool should have been, a shallow basin of black ink reflected the dim light like still water in a grave.

Twisted Sister crouched before the Dreamhouse on the worn floorboards, her cracked doll’s face paint smiling too wide, eyes bright and milky. In one hand she clutched the dark-haired Barbie (Alexandra Calaway) and in the other, was the bleached blonde Ken (LJ Kasey).

She set Barbie down in the bedroom of the dreamhouse, her voice pitched high and mocking.

Twisted Sister: Oh, LJ! I baked you a pie! A pie full of secrets! Do you want a slice?

She jerked Barbie forward, shoving an imaginary plate into Ken’s face. Then she snapped Ken’s arm back, her voice dropping to a gravelly growl.

Twisted Sister: What kind of secrets, Alexandra?

Twisted Sister: They’re bones, darling! Baked with love!

She giggled, smacking the two dolls together so violently Barbie’s head popped backward on its hinge. Twisted Sister gasped theatrically, her eyes widening in mock horror.

Twisted Sister: Oh no, LJ, you’ve broken my neck! Now I’m even prettier!

She rocked the Barbie doll gently, stroking its bent head. Then, slowly, she set Ken on the floor and crouched low, making him crawl up the Dreamhouse stairs.

Twisted Sister: Shhh, Alexandra. Broken dolls don’t get to sleep upstairs. Broken dolls belong in the basement.

Her hand shot forward, snatching Barbie up by the hair. She dangled her over the shoebox ‘basement’ and let her drop, giggling when the doll clattered against the foil walls.

Twisted Sister: Nooooo! It’s dark down here, LJ! It smells like forever!

She twitched, then made Ken peer down into the dungeon, his plastic grin catching the lamplight.

Twisted Sister: That’s right, Alexandra. Forever is where you live now.

She slammed the Ken doll down into the dungeon on top of Barbie, their limbs tangling in a grotesque heap. She smacked their faces together over and over, alternating voices rapidly.

Twisted Sister: I love you, LJ!

Twisted Sister: I own you, Alexandra!

Twisted Sister: You’re hurting me!

Twisted Sister: That’s the fun part!

She pulled the dolls out of the dungeon and placed them at the plastic dinner table. Around them, she had set broken bits of other discarded Barbies. Heads, arms, legs … It was like dinner guests at a macabre feast.

Twisted Sister: Welcome, everyone! Dinner is served! Tonight’s special is… ME!

She smashed Barbie face-first onto the table, then made Ken stab at her with a toothpick like a knife.

Twisted Sister: Dig in, my friends! Alexandra tastes divine!

She banged her fists on the floor, rocking back and forth, her laughter breaking into hiccups. Then she stopped, suddenly calm, and carefully laid the dolls side by side in the attic of the Dreamhouse.

Twisted Sister: Goodnight, LJ. Goodnight, Alexandra. May the spiders tuck you in.

She snapped her head toward the corner of the room, eyes wide, listening to a sound that wasn’t there. Her cracked lips stretched into a serene, unsettling smile.

Twisted Sister: They’ll never leave me! They’ll play with me forever!

She curled herself on the floor beside the Dreamhouse, rocking slightly, her eyes never straying from her “babies”.

---

The world was pink. Not soft, cheerful pink but an overbearing, blinding pink like a jumbo bottle of Pepto Bismol spilled across every surface. Skies painted in neon cotton-candy clouds churned overhead, dripping down like syrupy rain.

Rows of Barbie Dreamhouses rose like crooked towers, their pastel walls warped and oozing, their windows cracked like doll eyes staring blankly. Giant mirrors lined the horizon, reflecting not reality, but fractured smiles that moved out of sync with the world.

In the middle of this nightmare paradise stood a “garden.”

But instead of flowers, it bloomed with life-sized Barbie dolls, half buried in the earth, their limbs twisted at impossible angles. Their glossy hair was matted, their painted smiles cracked. Some were missing arms, others torsos. Some were strung up like scarecrows on candy cane striped poles, their heads dangling loosely to the side, staring with dead eyes.

Aqua’s Barbie Girl, slowed down and reversed, the voices echoing as though they were drowning underwater. And at the center of the garden, seated upon a throne of broken doll parts and candy-colored bones, was Twisted Sister.

She was Barbie incarnate, but not the dream. She was the nightmare. Her cracked porcelain face was smeared with pink blush and lipstick applied far outside the lines. A torn, glittering Barbie gown hung from her frame, shredded at the seams and stained with something darker. A crooked tiara rested on her head, its rhinestones missing like teeth rotted from a smile.

In her hands, she cradled an oversized Barbie head with its hair chopped jagged, its eyes gouged black and she  rocked it like a baby.

Twisted Sister: Shhh! It’s okay, little one. Mommy’s here. Mommy will never let them throw you away!

She pressed the head to her chest, then abruptly snapped upright, shrieking in her gravel-and-honey voice.

Twisted Sister: But the others! The others weren’t perfect!

She stood, towering over the doll garden. All around her, the mangled Barbies began to twitch. Heads turned. Limbs jerked. They started dragging themselves closer, scraping across the candy-colored dirt, their painted grins splitting wider as if they had been waiting for her command.

Twisted Sister: I’m Barbie now! The real Barbie! All the others were just practice dolls!

She ripped the head from the doll she had been cradling and raised it high like a trophy, pink hair spilling down her arm.

Twisted Sister: Ohhh, poor little LJ! Poor, poor chew toy. You’re nothing more than a squeaky bone for Anthrax to gnaw on until the stuffing spills out! Tut-tut-tut. You’re not mine, no. You were never meant for me to play with!

Her cracked lips curled as she suddenly snapped upright, eyes wide.

Twisted Sister: My plaything is fun-sized! My Barbie! My Alexandra!

She tilted her head back and forth, tutting with exaggerated disapproval.

Twisted Sister: Tsk, tsk, tsk. Alexandra Calaway! A boyfriend young enough to be your son! Ohh, the scandal! And people think I’m sick in the head!

She bursts into ragged laughter, clutching her sides, then suddenly goes stone still, staring directly into the camera.

Twisted Sister: But you won’t be thinking about that, will you, Barbie? No, no. You’ll be too busy watching Anthrax twist your pretty little boy-toy into pieces! You’ll be worrying that you’ll never be able to put him back together again!

Her cracked smile stretches further as she leans close, whispering.

Twisted Sister: And while you’re worrying, I’ll be right here. Waiting. Because you’re mine, Alexandra. You’re my toy!

She plucked a dark-haired Barbie from behind her back, stroking its tangled hair with something almost maternal, almost grotesque.

Twisted Sister: You like to play rough, don’t you, Barbie? Ohhh, I’ve seen it! The way you throw your little tantrums in the ring! The way you scratch and claw when you’re cornered. That’s my favorite kind of toy. The ones that squeal and fight and break!

Her laughter rose into a sharp, jagged cackle. She snapped the Barbie’s head back, making it bobble loosely on its neck.

Twisted Sister: But don’t worry, Alexandra! I’ll always be here to play with you! When Anthrax is done breaking LJ, I’ll be here. When the lights go out and you’re all alone in the Funhouse, I’ll be here.

She pressed the Barbie doll to her cheek, swaying like a child with her favorite toy. Her voice dropped to a soft, sing-song whisper.

Twisted Sister: Forever and ever, Barbie. We’ll play … until you break.

Her cracked grin filled the screen before the camera flickered to black.

Fine 'n Dandy Like Broken Candy

Now! You all understand that the last time that you saw our dear little sweeties, otherwise known as the Metal Maniacs, you were being told a grand tale of two darling young women who walked into the door of the famed GO Gym with their best male pal and were introduced to the world of professional wrestling? Yeah well, that was all a load of baloney. Did any of you ACTUALLY believe that Iron Maiden, Twisted Sister OR Anthrax were trained by the same establishment known for such wrestling greats as Evie Jordan, Fenris and London Underground? No! No, wait. Not just no but HELL no!

So wait, just where were the Metal Maniacs trained for the sport, and how did they come to be introduced to the wild and wacky business that you tune in to watch, week in and week out? Well, we know bits and pieces of the hows, namely a certain mental physician by the name of Doctor Kraven Moorehead - seriously! That IS the man's name! He is the man that brought Iron Maiden and Twisted Sister into the business as a means of occupational therapy - if you will. But Anthrax? And the fact their in-ring training (what little the women of this psychotic stable possess) remains a mystery to this day?

Well, perhaps one day that mystery will be explained, but much like unsolved mysteries such as Jack the Ripper and the Loch Ness Monster? The fun is in the not knowing, and if one day the answers come to us? Much of the magic behind the mystery will be lost for good, never to return.

Mumbai

Which is why we're going to pretend that your curiosity has yet to kill the proverbial cat, and instead skip the line of questioning and get right to the business at hand. Who would have ever expected Sin City Wrestling to ever make the foray into India for a full-fledged tour, but that is exactly what the hierarchy has done for the now-coined "India Summer 2022" tour. But considering the following this sport has in this country, it can be believed and even appreciated. What has actually perplexed so many more was that somehow, for some unexplainable reason, they have brought along this violent trio for at least a small portion of the tour.

But they have also opted to make Twisted Sister the very first person that the returning Candy would set foot inside of the ring against.

Hunh! And they call the  Metal Maniacs nuts!

Near the Gateway of Mumbai, roughly ten minutes southwest of the famed historical landmark, is the Colaba Causeway Market. A famed bazaar that sells everything one might imagine, and more. And when your mind is in a perpetual state of psychosis such as the Metal Maniacs, that imagination can run quite deep. That is why we find the infamous Anthrax, walking through the Bazaar with a swagger and a ghastly smile, weaving through the many stalls and stands, offering up everything from colorful rugs and clothes, to food stuffs and hand-crafted toys and just about everything in between. Anthrax has been described by his doctors as being the most dangerous of the Metal maniacs simply because his mind is not as entirely gone as that of Twisted Sister nor Iron Maiden, but that doesn't make him any less diabolical. If anything, he's even more so.

And yes, indeed. Anthrax was in his full wrestling personae; that dry, tattered clown makeup etched on an otherwise quite handsome face while his street clothes of a sleeveless T shirt and jeans were tattered and stained with ominous copper tone spots and splashes. But oh, he was not alone. Because what good would this story be without the very one who would soon be making the life of Candy - 2021's Most Popular Wrestler of the Year - absolutely nightmarish? Yes, Twisted Sister followed Anthrax throughout the market, her discolored eyes never once looking toward where she was going nor were they on the back of the man escorting her throughout. No, they were instead glued on the tablet in her hands as she poked and swiped a forefinger on the screen of the tablet, attempting to match rows of candies, and growing more impatient and erratic as she does so.

Yes - Twisted Sister was actually playing Candy Crush!

But it would seem that Anthrax found what he was looking for as he, and his pal, arrived at a particular stall that was being run by six women, all members of the same family and in three separate generations. Funny thing; none of the women even so much as blinked as the two ghoulish characters stepped up to their street business, as Anthrax smiled his best, which was enough to send chills down the average spine.

Anthrax: You sell, candy?

At the mere mention of the word candy, Twisted Sister's attention was pulled from the game in her hand and her eyes wandered around Anthrax and to the bounty of homemade goodies that were on full display at the family's stall. She all but walked into Anthrax's back and gripped his shoulder tightly in her fingers with her free hand, staring over his shoulder at the offerings, amongst them taffys of a variety of flavors. Fudges. Cookies. Hand dipped chocolates. Sugar candies. Rock candy. Even the more traditional Indian candies like Laddu and Besan Ladoo.

Woman: Yes sir. We have quite the selection and... oh my.

Anthrax turned around to see what had caught the woman's attention and there was a small crowd of Mumbai citizens, men and women, adults and children, gathered close by and their eyes were on Twisted Sister. Little known fact: India was second only to the United States when it came to fandom for sports entertainment. One would think Japan would be ranked second, but nope! India had that distinction. And right now it would seem a large number of members of the SCW Universe had seen and recognized these two and were watching in awe as they went about their business.

Twisted Sister's attention had gone back to her game which was an ominous forbearance toward her future opponent, while Anthrax turned back to the stall's proprietor and flashed the local currency in hand.

Anthrax: I'd like a sample bag for my friend here. Let's say... ten of each candy you have to offer?

Ten - of each? That was quite the order but the matriarch of the family knew it was a good sale for her family's business and she and her daughters and granddaughter went right to work, filling the order. While he waited, Anthrax turned back to watch in bemused wonder when three preteens slowly approached Twisted Sister from behind with smiles on their faces and a camera in the hand of one. Obviously looking for a souvenir before Sunday's big show. One of the kids reached Twisted Sister's side and started to speak...

Kid: Excuse m-

And that was all it took for Twisted Sister to spin around and SCREAM like the wild, insane woman that she was!

Twisted Sister: EEEYYYAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

Causing the three kids to turn and run back to their families, with other kids who started to approach following suit. But none of them were truly fearful or even upset. No, they were actually SMILING! Smiling and -- laughing? Twisted Sister watched them for a brief moment, her head tilted to the side with insane curiosity, before she turned back around to resume her game of Crushing Candy, er - Candy Crush!

Which was when the order was filled and an "Pardon me, sir?" had drawn Anthrax's attention back to the family stall, and the large box of candies being held out to him. Anthrax giggled like a lunatic, taking the box while passing the payment to the matriarch's waiting hand.

Anthrax: Thank you.

He said bashfully, like a great big kid, when a high pitched shriek and the sound of something being struck repeatedly drew his attention, and those around him. heads turned to see Twisted Sister smacking her palm into the screen of the tablet and she suddenly swung it in a downward spiral, slamming it against the street once, twice, three t8imes until there was little recognizable of the handheld device.

Anthrax walked over to where Twisted Sister stared down at the tablet's remains and he cocked his head to the left.

Anthrax: Did that mean ol' game win, again?

Twisted Sister growled a low, guttural sound as she looked at him, then down at the tablet. Anthrax jetted out his bottom lip in sympathy.

Anthrax: Aww!

---

OYO 10001 Hotel Blue Ocean

Deep down beneath the archaic accommodations of the Metal Maniacs, below even the lowest room was the boiler room where the hotel staff kept the hotel's water and heat running smoothly when needed. And it was also in the dark recesses of the boiler room where Anthrax was found deep in thought and contemplation.

Well, he was actually playing a rousing game of Candyland but for him? Same thing! With the game board spread out on the floor before him, and Anthrax laid out in front of his, chest down with his feet kicked up in the air, Anthrax's eyes remained on the game as he drew a colored card - red in this case, and moved his token the appropriate number of spaces.

Anthrax: Rock candy. Peanut brittle. Three Musketeers. Boogers. Laffy Taffy.

Anthrax giggled at the name 'Laughy Taffy'.

Anthrax: Candy corn! Gobstoppers! Black licorice! Tootsie rolls! These are the worst candies for little, itty bitty childrens. The worst for their teeth, but the best for the Tooth Fairy because we all know that selfish bitch is out for herself!

Anthrax gasped and put a hand over his mouth.

Anthrax: Oh my, did I utter a curse? Oh well, it's all for a good cause because this is what you might call a public service announcement. The worst candies. The stupidest candies. The most brittle of candies. But you know something? All of those candies in all three categories fail in comparison when it comes to the worst of the worst, and that worst is...

He twirled a forefinger and pointed it right in the camera.

Anthrax: Boop! You - Candy! You, silly girl! Oh Candy, so sweet. Always anxious for play dates and meeting new friends well that's good! Guess what? You have a new friend to make when you have your play date with Twisted Sister! And this is going to be a very special time between the two of you because you always see the very best in your friends, and the fun times ahead are going to really test that outlook on your life because Twisted Sister? She plays rough. And when she's not allowed to bring her favorite toys to play, she just finds new and innovative ways to make her games even MORE fun! But you, Candy? Candy crushed? Candy Caned? Oh you look like the type of Candy that breaks when you place the slightest amount of pressure to it. I hope that's not the case because it would be a terrible thing for your playtime to just end like that!

He snapped his fingers.

Anthrax: After all, what's the point in even scheduling this fun time to be had between the two of you if you're just going to fall apart? I mean, I can understand if you scream in pain or cry buckets of tears. That's half the FUN!

He clapped the palms of his hands together.

Anthrax: But where is the fun in a game when it's over too quickly? So I am going to do you a little favor. I am going to take Twisted Sister aside and I am going to ask her not to play TOO roughly, TOO fast. I'm going to ask her to draw it out. She likes fun as much as we all do, and I'm sure she'll be only too happy to stretch the game out and make it last. Last right up until the breaking point, where she is going to stop because we can't have too much fun, too fast, now can we? You know what they say about too much of a good thing! She'll let you catch your breath (maybe) and rest up a moment or two (not really) and then the fun will begin anew! Won't that be FUN!?

His face took on a snarl, and he shook his head.

Anthrax: What? No? You're scared? You don't like to play rough? WELL IT'S NOT ALL ABOUT YOU NOW IS IT!? STOP BEING SO SELFISH CANDY! THERE ARE OTHERS OUT FOR A BIT OF FUN AND ENJOYMENT TOO!

And just as quickly as the shouting started, it suddenly stopped and Anthrax smiled slowly and started to laugh.

Anthrax: Hahaha! It's okay, Candy. There's no reason to be scared. After all, it's just a game. And Twisted Sister hasn't met a piece of Candy that she hasn't enjoyed sinking her teeth into.

And that being said, Anthrax turned his attention away from the camera to resume his game.
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