Name: Nahyuta Sahdmadhi

Vehicle: The Most Holy Mercedes-Benz (Nahyuta saw a commercial where a Buddhist monk was driving one and enjoying himself, so he decided to see what the hype was about. Sure, this car might be a bit decadent for the tastes of a monk, but someone has to bring some decency to the vehicle if that putrid fox-boy with his baggy pants, loud music, and atrocious grammar is also driving one.)

Vehicle Armor: 3/5 (Despite knowing the risks that this competition entails, Nahyuta refuses to modify his car's armor on the grounds that if the Holy Mother wishes for him to meet his end, he shall not fight his fate.)

Vehicle Speed: 2/5 (Nahyuta is a refined Khura'inese monk, not some putrid speed demon.)

Vehicle Handling: Moderate (Better handling is completely unnecessary when the Holy Mother takes the wheel.)

Special Attack: 4/5 (Constricting Aura- Through years of intense meditation and training, Nahyuta has learned to take his rosary constricting technique to the next level by being able to perform it telepathically on nearby wrongdoers. However, while the attack can completely incapacitate its victim, it can only be used on one person at a time.)

Bio: O Holy Mother, please forgive your most loyal of followers for participating in this putrid competition. May you subject Mr. Gavin- for creating this putrid show of needless bloodshed and carnage- to 26 millennia of torture in the Hell of Telemarketers and Door-to-door Salesmen. But nevertheless, while I don't condone this putrid brand of senseless violence, if I am being forced to compete, then I might as well make the most of it and change the world for the better if the Holy Mother deems my victory so.


Sitting on a bench off to the side of the road, Kristoph is reading a book on psychological torture as he waits for the winner of Debauched Steel to arrive and claim their prize: a wish for anything their heart desires. Thankfully, the deranged host doesn't have to wait long as he hears the sound of a car driving towards him. And sure enough, upon looking up, Kristoph sees a Mercedes-Benz approaching.

"Oh, great…" The host of Debauched Steel groans with a look of disdain. "Wocky Kitaki won the contest. Better prepare to spawn some aspirin. I swear, of all the people to win, why did it have to be- wait… on the hood… Is that a Khura'inese symbol?" Kristoph asks as his eyes widen. "NO! I change my mind! Give me Wocky Kitaki, give me anyone! Just don't give me-"

"Hello, Mr. Gavin." Nahyuta calmly states with a cold, stern face as he exits his vehicle and walks up to the demented host.

"Mr. Sahdmadhi, what a pleasure to see you." Kristoph growls through clenched teeth.

"If it's such a pleasure to see me, then you certainly aren't looking it. But then again, I shouldn't be surprised. Most of you putrid western defense attorneys lie so often through your forked tongues that you hardly know the difference between up and down, light and dark, and truth and lie." Nahyuta sneers.

"Well, perhaps I'd be in a better mood if I was being regaled by a grating, pathetic wannabe thug and not some self-righteous 'holy' man who will take every opportunity he can to tell me about how sinful I am and how I'll burn in Hell, or something like that." Kristoph irritably retorts.

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you? You'd love it if I pointed out every single one of your putrid little sins, allowing you the very slim chance to save your putrid soul from whatever hell Her Holiness has planned for you. That is why I shall not be telling you the steps to redeem yourself so that you can die with your mind's eye shrouded in the darkness of a lack of spiritual enlightenment, just like how your putrid soul is shrouded in the darkness of your sins and misdeeds. A truly fitting end for a black-hearted defense attorney such as yourself." The smug monk triumphantly smirks as he slowly lifts his hand, allowing for a pink, translucent butterfly to land on his raised fingers.

"What, so you aren't going to give me a tour through the Nine Circles of Hell?" Kristoph wryly asks with a cocky grin of his own and crossed arms.

The Realm of the Damned is nothing like the one from Dante's little fairytale. There are not nine hells- I laugh at your nine putrid circles of generality- but over one million, each flawlessly handling the degree to which a person sins." Nahyuta states with an authoritative tone, pointing out with his fist while clutching his rosary. "First, there's the Hell of Silence, where those who do good only for the sake of receiving praise for it are forced to live in a realm containing nothing but their lonesome thoughts. Then there is the Hell of Deep Breathing, where gossipers are subjected to a person unceasingly exhaling warm, moist air into their ear with no chance for escape. Then we have the Hell of Dirty Hands, where those who love to double dip are allowed to eat only one thing: bread and olive oil. The catch? The bread itself is too dry to consume on its own, but the second the damned soul tries to dip it, a smelly man with greasy, unwashed hands slams his fist in the olive oil, forcing them to choose between the crippling pain of hunger and suffering from food poisoning. And then we come to one of the more interesting hells: The Hell of Endless Lines, where the putrid souls who try to check-out 11 items in a ten-items-or-less line must-"

"I take it you're not going to try your hand at being poetic. Well, that's probably for the best considering that there aren't that many words that rhyme with 'putrid.'"

Nahyuta takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and raises his hand. "If I were to guess, in your previous life, you were an oak tree that meet its end when it was cut down to make toothpicks, if your poking remarks and ridiculous hairstyle are of any indication."

"Oh, like you're one to talk." Kristoph angrily retorts with crossed arms. "This hairstyle may have been thrusted upon me by my mother, but at least it looks refined, unlike yours which resembles that of a girl in middle school trying to look like Rapunzel."

"That may be so, Mr. Gavin, but at least my hairstyle hasn't had toothpicks made in its likeness and sold in Burger Barn by a soulless corporation trying to cash in on the reputation of a putrid rock star who sullies the good name of prosecutors everywhere."

"Please leave Klavier out of this." Kristoph coldly states as he pushes his glasses up. "He may not be the most serious of prosecutors and may be almost as sickeningly idealistic as Wright, but only I can insult him."

"Don't worry. I didn't plan to drag your putrid brother into this in the first place. For even as we speak, the Holy Mother is exacting her punishment on that putrid womanizing rock star by making him suffer in the Hell of Impotence- a realm where women flock to the souls of the damned men, but each time they get aroused, their manhood slowly shrinks smaller and smaller, prompting them to be ridiculed for hours on end. This cycle of arousal and humiliation will continue for your putrid brother until his genitals are no more. But then again, his punishment probably won't last very long since he didn't have that much in that regard to begin with. After all, why would a man be so obsessed with his guitars if he wasn't trying to compensate for something? And based on your appearance, I believe that it runs in your family."

"Judging by that last comment, I'd wager that your wish is to meet your precious Holy Mother is person. Am I right?" Kristoph snarls, glaring daggers at the holier-than-thou monk.

"Such hostility!" Nahyuta sneers. "Though I would expect as much from a putrid defense attorney. You need to learn to let things go and move on. For just as the snake shed its skin, we must shed our past over and over again."

"So are you going to make your wish or are you going to sing a song out of a Disney film?" Kristoph asks in an irritable tone with crossed arms. "Because if it's the latter, then I have a few choice lyrics."

"Satora imaoman domosamashi detashinuke taregasayo sonoka!" Nahyuta chants after performing a series of strange hand gestures. "Very well. If you fail to grasp basic reasoning, then perhaps it would be best for us to move on. My wish is for your show to do some actual good by creating a world in which Ga'ran never executed her plan to usurp the throne, thereby saving my country from her sinful rule."

"Granted." Kristoph replies with a sinister grin.

The host of Debauched Steel raises his arms in the air, causing bolts of electricity to stream between his hands, emitting a blinding light. When the light diminishes, Nahyuta finds himself standing behind the defendant's stand in the Khura'inese court room. Though much to the monk's confusion, hanging from the ceiling are many white banners depicting a Venus symbol with a red no sign on top of it and blue block letters below that read 'NO MA'AM'. In addition, the pool of souls is covered up with a white tarp bearing the same symbol as the banners.

Though before Nahyuta can comment on the banners, he is interrupted by a bailiff.

"Everyone, please stand in attention for our wise and noble judge, the man who liberated Khura'in and instilled the holy doctrines of the National Organization of Men Against Amazonian Masterhood into our way of life: His Manliness, King Inga!"

"Inga? King!?" Nahyuta reels back in shock with saucer-sized eyes. "Pohlkunka!"

Though much to the monk's shock, this proclamation is verified as Inga, who is wearing a rainbow sequin robe and has his hair styled like Liberace, struts up to the Judge's bench and takes a seat as the gallery, which is filled with men wearing shirts identical to the banners who start excitedly cheering.

"Order! Order in the court!" Inga bellows as he slams the ornamental gavel typical of Khura'inese trials before taking a gold-plated cigar stamp out of his robe and chomping down on it. "We're gathered here today for the execution of Prosecutor Nahyuta Sahdmadhi for his crimes against NO MA'AM."

"Objection!" Nahyuta shouts, pointing his arm out while gripping his rosary. "The only thing I have ever done is uphold the laws and traditions established by the Holy Mother!"

"Exactly! You've been worshiping the Holy Hag even though we've made it illegal in favor of adopting the Church of NO MA'AM as our nation's religion- founded by the Reverend Al Bundy, who was married for our sins."

"Church of NO MA'AM… Al Bundy… You replaced the founding principles of our kingdom for some sham group of ignorant, lazy drunks created for an American sitcom from the 90's?!" Nahyuta snarls, pulling at his rosary. "Have you no shame?!"

"Shut your trap, ya palooka! That sitcom saved my life, see? There I was, stuck in a forced, loveless marriage with Ga'ran- all my stuff destroyed and family killed so that I'd have no distractions. By day, I'd have her nagging me about never paying enough attention to her when I was busy doing my job as a prosecutor, and by night she'd be complaining about me being a horrible lover as she did things to me that would make men with even the strongest of wills cry. Four years later, after so many months of torture, I prayed vehemently to the Holy Mother each and every day, filled with the hope that maybe the Holy Harlot would have a sliver of mercy and actually put me outta my misery, but she never helped me. But then one fateful evening, I was flipping through the channels on the t.v. when I found it: Married …With Children…"

Inga pauses for a brief second as sobs from the men in the gallery fills the courtroom.

"As I was saying… They were playing an episode where after Al's bowling night and strip club were unjustly ripped away from him- similar to what Ga'ran did to me- only instead of taking it lying down, Al started up NO MA'AM and fought back! So I thought to myself, 'Inga, if some guy who sells women shoes can stand up to this kind of injustice, why can't you?'"

"Yeah, Inga!" Several men in the gallery yell as they proudly pump their fists in the air.

"Thank you, thank you…" The bedazzled king says with a proud grin. "So the next night, Ga'ran, after finishing her work as Minister of Justice, burst into my room and wanted to get kinky with me, getting all heated up 'cause she had just cooked up some scheme to fake an assassination on Amara and claim the throne for herself. But much to the spider-cow-whale's shock, I wasn't taking any of her crap; and when she tried to stick her big purple strap-on up my no-no hole, I fought back! I wrestled the thing outta her hands, beat her down to the ground, and forced that damn scepter of evil down her throat till she stopped breathing!"

The gallery bursts into a thundering roar of applause which is quickly silenced by a slam from Inga's gavel.

"Now Nahyuta, let me ask ya…" The bedazzled king sneers, chomping down on a gold-plated cigar stamp. "How do you think your 'dear' mother reacted to Ga'ran's death?"

"My mother, being the pious, wise woman she is, hopefully tried to do the honorable act of bringing you to justice for your heinous crime. But judging by your current position, and further crimes against fashion, that didn't happen."

"Your damn right it didn't!" Inga smirks. "Oh, Amara tried her darndest to have me executed for killing her 'sweet, innocent sister', but what she didn't count on was the backlash she'd receive for trying to dish out such a hefty punishment for justified self-defense. Though your mother learned that the hard way when her own royal guard executed her and rallied behind my cause, allowing me to claim the throne with ease after my boys sent Dhurke running with his tail between his legs. And now, over 20 years later, I've turned Khura'in from some namby-pamby lady land into a paradise of manliness- outlawing talking about feelings, building a dozen or so strip clubs, and even starting up a state-wide fast food chain that will shorten your lifespan by at least ten years, Jackhammer Richie's! So, still think that NO MA'AM is some sham group?"

"Yes!" Nahyuta yells, casting the king a death glare. "Not only that, but you are even more depraved and power hungry than I originally thought! You've plagued this fine land with nothing but putrid sins of lust, gluttony…! and… and… I don't know exactly what kind of sin that first acts is, but it's a sin nonetheless and you will surely be damned to the Hell of Tickling for sure!"

"Ya know, Nahyuta, ya talk a big game, but so did your dad all those years ago when he tried to fight my glorious regime with his rebel group, and also Abbot Inmee last week when he protested us trying to convert the worship room in this here temple into a Jiggly Room. And what happened to them, you may ask…" A sinister grin spreads across the bedazzled king's face. "We fed 'em to Ga'ran! Bring her in boys!" Inga orders with a slam of his gavel.

"Ga'ran…?" Nahyuta asks with a tone of fear in his voice.

Suddenly, the doors to the courtroom are flung open as two muscular men- also wearing NO MA"AM shirts- drag in a huge meat grinder large enough in size to shred a couch.

"You're going to throw me into a meat grinder!?" Nahyuta reels back in shock.

"Yeah." Inga smirks. "As stated in Rule Three of the Church of NO'MAM, 'It's ok to put all bad people in a giant meat grinder.' As it is written by Reverend Al Bundy, so it shall be decreed!" The king proclaims with a slam of his gavel, prompting the two men who brought Ga'ran the meat grinder in to approach Nahyuta.

Naturally, the devout monk prepares to throw his rosary at the two men in an attempt to incapacitate them and escape this twisted sense of justice, but the men are too fast and grab him by his arms before dragging him up the metal stairs attached to the meat grinder that lead to the top of the device.

"Unhand me, you putrid heathens!" Nahyuta snarls as he wriggles in a vain attempt to free himself. "For the Holy Mother does not take kindly to those who execute Her most faithful monks, especially those who also serve the Kingdom as prosecutors!"

"Rule Four: 'Lawyers, see Rule Three.'" Inga sneers before giving the infamous thumbs-down of ancient times signaling one's execution, prompting for the giant electric meat grinder to be turned on, the blades rapidly spinning and grinding together as the engine lets out a low rumbling sound.

The two men holding Nahyuta's arms proceed to waste no time in throwing the monk into the meat grinder, an eruption of crimson liquid, along with a few lavender-colored hairs, bursts forth from the top of the device as his screams fill the air; followed by pink, blood-soaked ribbons of what's left of him coming out of the side and plopping onto the ground with a moist thud.

As the men in the gallery cheer Nahyuta's death, they are quickly silenced with a slam of their king's gavel.

"Ok, now that Nahyuta's dead, let's celebrate with some sacred wrestling in the Mud Pit of Souls! Oh, girls…!" Inga snickers with a slam of his gavel, prompting two women in tight, revealing emerald and purple bikinis to enter the courtroom and remove the tarp in the center of the area, revealing the Pool of Souls, which is filled with mud, before proceeding to wrestle in the mess, much to the enjoyment of Inga and the gallery.

As the men gaze at the spectacle completely entranced, Kristoph emerges from behind the meat grinder and walks over to Nahyuta's remains and stares down at them.

"Don't feel so bad, Mr. Sahdmadhi. For now you get to meet your maker. Ha ha ha! Oh, how I crack myself up…" Kristoph sneers before turning to the camera. "I'm Kristoph Gavin, and I thank you for watching Debauched Steel."


A/N: I would like to thank JordanPhoenix and MuhammadGamingS for submitting the idea for this chapter.