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Lethal Investment

“It’s a fight” by Three 6 Mafia begins to play as red and blue lights flash. From behind the curtain steps out the owner of Death Row Wrestling, Tim Ross, along with Tha Krew, his personal enforcers of Death Row Wrestling. Dressing informal in baggy jeans and a jersey type shirt, Ross makes his way towards the ring with a microphone in hand while Tha Krew make sure that fans don't get close to "Da Boss."

Wolf:  Tim Ross has promised to address the future of Death Row Wrestling and who, if anyone, will be an investor in the company!

Ace: Not only that, he has promised to set the record straight about the number one contendership!

The fans go nuts. The music fades and the lights go back normal. Tim raises the microphone to his mouth to speak.

Ross: Imma make this quick, and Imma get straight to the point.

The fans pop.

Ross: There seems to be some people who think somehow, some way, my head of talent relations allowed Cancer Jiles to win oat Death from Above.

The fans boo.

Ross: Really nigga? Really? Did you mutha fuckas not see Doozer do his job as referee perfectly? Dis nigga could have cheated. I expected him to cheat. But did he? Naw nigga, he did his mutha fuckin' job right.

The fans pop.

Ross: But, Imma fair mutha fucka. I like to think outside tha mutha fuckin' box. Lethal Injection six, in the main mutha fuckin' event... Cancer Jiles versus mutha fuckin' Skidd Row versus mutha fuckin' Dark for the Death Row Championship!

The Oil Palace explodes.

Ross: By the way, I like my major matches to be bloody, so it's gonna be a mutha fuckin' barbed wire ropes match.

Ace: Holy shit!

Wolf: That is brutal.

The crowd continues to go nuts.

Unknown: Look here Ross... No one wants to hear about your damn poorly booked matches. They want you to announce your partnership with me.

Wolf: What's this?

The camera zooms up to see a man walk through the curtains. He wears an expensive suit, and walks tall as he makes his way to the ring.

Wolf: That... That.. THAT'S GREG "G-MAN" MANIX!

Ace: Who?

Wolf: Who? He ran Supreme Championship Wrestling back in the 1990's to early 2000's under the DREAM banner. He is one of the most successful men to ever be apart of the sport and now owns 100% stake in one of the largest consulting companies in the world!

The fans begin to chant "G-Man! G-Man!" Manix walks up the steps and enters the ring. He puts his hand out to shake Ross', who doesn't return the favor.

Manix: Fine, you don't have to shake my hand, but you damn sure need my money if you want to keep this little half-way house running.

Tim rubs his chin and looks into the eyes of the G-Man.

Ross: Yea, it's true. Money's starting to run a little low, and we could use some new money in here to help get things on track.

Manix smiles and puts his hand out again.

Manix: I've been telling you for weeks Tim, take the money. What's a little creative control my way?

He smirks evilly.

Manix: Here, let me show you something.

He pulls his hand back and reaches into his pocket pulling out a check book as Ross watches on.

Manix: This is just the beginning Tim.

He writes on the check and tears it out of his book handing it over to Tim Ross. His eyes grow big.

Manix: That's more than enough to go to the next level.

Ross smiles and nods.

Ross: Sho is.

Manix smiles and extends his hand. Ross looks out to the crowd.

Ace: Tim Ross signing his soul away to the devil in front of our eyes.

Tim reaches out and grasp Greg's hand. He pulls him close, and with his other hand raises the microphone.

Ross: Except Lee Best offered me a television deal, twice this amount, without giving ANY creative control away.

The fans pop like fucking fireworks on the Fourth of July.

Manix: Hu..

Before he can finish, Tim Ross kicks Manix in the gut as Tha Krew rush into the ring and begin to stomp him.

Ross: You think you can come into my back yard mutha fucka and insult me? Money or not, in this mutha fucka we keep it real! We keep it hood nigga!

Tim rips the check up and drops it before beginning to stomp Greg Manix as well.

Wolf: My God, we have just witnessed Death Row aligning forces with Lee Best. Who really is more evil? Manix or Best? Dark days are upon us!

Ace: All I care about is we are going to be on TV Waylon! Best Studios Network!

Tim Ross' music hits as he and Tha Krew exit the ring, leaving Greg Manix lying.

Cancer Jiles vs. Chance Von Crank

The scene goes static for a moment, and then opens up on the local state penitentiary in Huntsville, Texas.  A sign identifies the place as such, as if the guard towers and barb wired topped fences aren’t clue enough.  The penitentiary boasts a dense population of inmates that are kept well in check due in part to the construction of the penitentiary, but more importantly to the callousness of its guards.

Wolf:  Well its time ladies and gentlemen, the moment we have all been waiting for.  The wrestling world has been talking about it since it was announced, the match picked by you the fans.  A prison cell match with The Trailer Park Prodigy, Chance Von Crank and number one contender for the Death Row title, Cancer Jiles. . .

Ace:  Yeah I hear Chance is extra pissed off tonight.  It being Father’s Day just three days ago, he’s been hounded by baby mamas and suspected children ever since.  Personally I think they’re just after his money.  They probably aren’t even his; we all know cVc is The Prince of The Pullout!

Wolf:  Cancer meanwhile spent his Father’s Day with himself.  No one else was cool enough to celebrate with.

The camera zooms in on the penitentiary, the large building becoming out of focus, and cuts to inside the penitentiary, the picture getting snowy for a moment.

Wolf:  Bear with us here folks, we are LIVE remember.  I’m not one for the technology, but even I know a setup like this can have its hiccups.  Regardless, I think we may be making history tonight, Ace.  Has anyone done anything like this?

Ace:  I don’t know if I’ve ever heard of a prison cell match, live from an actual prison before. . .And I’ve seen some real doozies. . . A match on a back of a moving hay bale truck for instance, that was shot live too--but never this.

Wolf:  I think I know what you’re talking about Ace. . . I think I’ve seen that match before. . . How did it do anyway?

Ace:  Terribly.  One of the worst matches in wrestling history. . .

The camera shows a long empty corridor—what the prisoners lovingly refer to as ‘The Walk,’ one side being a thick concrete wall, the other being the mass of prison cells lined next to one another, and rising up.  The penitentiary is several floors, and the cells go up, rising all the way to the ceiling.  Along the cells are the catwalks, which at the moment are heavily populated with guards armed with shotguns.  Although this system utilizes the most space (more prisoners per square inch = more profit), it can be quite dangerous: many a time a guard has taken the plunge, or a prisoner has taken his chance at escape by flinging himself to his death. . . a few fellas even hanged themselves from the catwalks. . .

Wolf:  I would like to take this moment to personally thank Warden Jackson for allowing us to hold this event for you tonight folks.  It is his love for gambling and adoration for watching caged men engaged in deadly battle that makes this all possible.   We thank you, Warden Jackson.

Ace:  Don’t forget the great state of Texas, Wolf.  We have it to thank too.

The prisoners are rowdy, taking the opportunity to show the world they are horrid criminals by shouting, banging on the bars, and exposing shivs made from various random objects.  The guards stand firm, not at all looking nervous, feeling strength in their unusual numbers and the spread action of their shotgun rounds.  If a riot ensued they would be ready.

Ace:  What do you think is going through the minds of our competitors tonight?  Being in a match is one thing, but this isn’t going to be your typical match.  In fact, not a match at all.  A brawl.  A real prison fight in a real prison cell. 

Wolf:  I think the only thing going through their minds right now is survival.  With all those criminals around the mood in that place must be menacing.  The likes of you and me would be caught in the depths of asshole clenching fear in a place like that. . . A thousand criminals around cheering for blood.  How’s that for intensity?

Ace:  My God this is going to make for great television!

The prisoners come to a roar as a guard appears in one of the doors at the far end of the corridor.  The metal door opens, and though the music is not playing in the prison, it comes on over the webcast; “I Am The Cool” plays as Cancer Jiles appears, surrounded by guards.  The prisoners add their own music, the pounding of a thousand random metal objects against the bars.

Wolf:  Look at that protection!

Ace:  I wouldn’t go out there without a gun.  But that’s just me. . .

The guards lead Cancer down the hallway, Cancer neither looking left nor right.  The prisoners continue to bang away, the guards looking tough in their moment in the sun.  They are all armed with shot guns, which they brandish in an attempt to show further strength.

Wolf:  Cancer Jiles may be The Cool One, but even he looks intimidated tonight.

Ace:  Prison is supposed to be intimidating, Wolf.

They lead him down the hallway, to an empty cell, its door swung open, guards standing at the door.  The cell is standard size, just small enough to be uncomfortable for two people.  Mounted to the wall was a metal toilet bowel, stained by a combination of frequent use and infrequent cleaning.  Cancer takes one look in the cell and makes a face.

Wolf:  My God the stench of that place!   Ross sure found the dirtiest prison for tonight’s main event. 

Ace:  At least its pest free.

Wolf:  Only because not even the pests wish to live in such filth!

Cancer cracks his neck as he waits. A few moments later we can hear Chance Von Crank.

cVc: The Razzle Dazzle is here! Never fear, when I'm done, Big Bubba can have Cancer Jiles' rear!

Chance Von Crank steps to the cell, standing just outside of it looking at Cancer inside.

Wolf: The most unique match in wrestling history.

Ace: I'm just glad we don't have to be there as well.

cVc looks at the referee standing beside him and the guards.

cVc: So, is there a bell or something?

The inmate in the cell next to them sticks his hands out, a cup in one, and a pen in the other. He hits the cup with the pin several times.

cVc: Works for me.

The referee and guards shrug.

Wolf: Here we go!

Crank smirks and looks around. From inside the cell, Cancer reaches out, grabbing him and yanking Chance in.

Wolf: Mr. Cool wasting no time!

As Chance Von Crank is pulled in, the guard slams the cell door behind him.

Wolf: Knee to the stomach of Chance Von Crank. I expect Cancer Jiles to be more aggressive tonight than we have seen in the past.

Ace: He has to be.

Cancer grabs the back of cVc's mullet and slams his face hard into the stone wall. As Chance grabs his nose, he turns around to get a right to the side of the head.

Wolf: Cancer Jiles holding nothing back. He doesn't have much room to work with, but making the best of it!

Cancer grabs the throat of Crank with both hands and pushes him back with all of his might, slamming the spine of cVc into the metal railing of the bunk bed. Crank lets out a yelp of pain before being tossed violently into the cell doors. The inmates go insane at the violence.

Wolf: Chance Von Crank was too cocky for his own good, and now he will pay the price!

Ace: What? A carton of cigarettes and a blow job?

Cancer Jiles begins punching cVc hard in the stomach. With each hit, his spine is jolted by the cell doors.

Wolf: A right, a left, another right. Now Jiles follows up with a forearm smash to the face. He wants to win, he HAS to win!

Ace: I like this Cancer Jiles! Where has he been?!

Cancer grabs the back of Chance's head again and walks him over to the toilet.

cVc: No.. No.. NO!

Wolf: Trying to fight it, but he can't!

Cancer slams Chance's head down into the toilet, lifts, and slams it again against the rim before ducking his head inside of the bowel, following up by flushing it.


Ace: He's going to be pulling turd bits out of his hair for weeks!

As Cancer holds Chance's head in the toilet, he flushes again. Crank waves his arms like crazy, trying to get out.

Wolf: I can't watch this. I think I'm going to be sick to my stomach.

Cancer pulls Chance up and turns him around. Crank's cheeks are puffed up.

Wolf: What's this?

Cancer tilts his head sideways looking at cVc, who leans back and spits the contents of his mouth into Cancer's face.

Wolf: Nope. I'm done. I can't do this.

Ace: Was that yellow?!

Cancer screams as he holds his eyes.


cVc grabs Cancer's head and headbutts him.

Ace: Ah.. his mullet is drenched with God knows what, and now that's on Cancer's face.

Wolf: I can...

Waylon can be heard vomiting.

Ace: Waylon? Ah, come on man! My new shoes!

cVc pushes Cancer back, holds his hand up high and then comes down with a thunderous slap across the COOL one's chest.

Ace: That was gnarly.

cVc grabs Cancer's head and takes him toward the cell door, introducing his skull to the bars.

cVc: Open the fucking doors... OPEN THEM!

The guard signals for the cell to be opened. As it does, Chance throws Cancer out, causing him to stumble forward and fall to the ground.

Ace: You done yet Waylon? Shit's getting real now! It's spilled out of the cell! Why would they open the doors?!

Crank comes forward, pulls his leg back, and kicks Cancer Jiles directly in the nuts with the mighty force of the sex Gods. Jiles screams like a baby as he grabs himself.

cVc: Sorry guys, Cancer is an entrance only guy tonight!

He bends down to grab Cancer's head, but is met with a finger to the eye. As Chance grabs his eyes, Cancer turns over and begins crawling away.

Ace: Where are you going?

Suddenly, a home made shank is slide from another cell toward Cancer who takes a moment to realize what it is, before putting it in his hand.

Ace: This can't be good for Crank. Waylon, you seeing this?

Wolf continues to vomit.

Ace: Pussy.

Chance gathers himself, steps forward and grabs Cancer by the legs, pulling him across the floor. He turns Cancer around to see the shank in his hand. Chance jumps back about three feet.

cVc: What the fuck?!

Cancer uses the nearby bars to pull himself up.

Jiles: Puerto Rican rules you sissy mother fucker.

Cancer swings at Chance with the shank. cVc leans back.

cVc: Come the fuck on!

He swings again.

Wolf: This isn't fair.

Ace: Welcome back to the match. What's not fair? It's prison style baby!

Cancer lunges forward with the shank. cVc sidesteps, allowing Cancer's arm to go into the original cell they came out of, through the bars.

Wolf: Punch to the back of the head by Chance Von Crank!

An inmate yells at cVc, getting his attention. He is thrown a shank of his own, however, cVc misses it. The shank falls down at an angle and slides right into his leg.


He turns around in time for Cancer to come forward with his shank, stabbing it deep into Chance's other leg and letting go.

cVc:  MOTHER FUCKER!!!!!!!!!!1

Cancer steps back a second and takes in what he just did, semi shocked at himself. Chance Von Crank throws his arms out. He looks down at one leg.


He then looks at the other.


Then back to the first leg.


Jiles: Yea bitch, prison style!

Cancer leans forward, grabbing both shanks and pulling with all his might. They slide out roughly, sending Cancer back with force and into the cell with his back. Blood squirts from cVc's legs as he screams. The inmates go crazy

Wolf: The insanity!

Cancer stands up and looks around. Only one shank is left in his hand. He looks around for the other. Chance gathers his bearings long enough to look at Cancer and turn pale.

Jiles: What motherfucker?

Cancer looks around, as he turns, we can see the other shank in stuck in the back of his shoulder. He feels back there and discovers it.


cVc walks very uncomfortably toward Cancer.

cVc: Don't move, I got you.

Chance grabs the shank.

cVc: This is going to hurt.

Jiles: Just get it the fuck out man!

Wolf: A momentary truce?

Ace: Man, they are getting shanked. I'd call this shit quits!

Chance begins to pull on the shank, as it slowly slides out, Cancer yells. Suddenly, cVc shoves with all of his might, digging the shank in deeper.


Ace: Niiiice!!! Double crossed by cVc!

Chance lets go and begins laughing.

cVc: Puerto Rican Rules, remember fucker?

Chance limps on both legs away from Cancer who is trying to reach the shank himself. He signals for a guard to come help. A couple agonizing minutes later the shank is slide out of his shoulder, and Cancer drops down to his knees.

Wolf: This just needs to be stopped.

Ace: Why? This is entertainment right here!

Cancer falls down to his hands and knees.

Ace: Uh oh. Not the place you want to be on your hands and knees.

cVc stumbles forward in pain, and grabs Cancer's hips.

cVc: Prison style bitch..

Wolf: He isn't...

Ace: Is he going to... RAPE CANCER JILES?!

cVc begins to pull his tights down, but is too slow as Cancer falls to the floor, rolls over and uses what little strength he has to throw both legs up and into cVc's stomach. Chance goes flying backwards.

Wolf: Just in the knick of time!

cVc, with his tights halfway down, rest against cell bars. Suddenly his eyes get extremely wide.


He leaps forward and turns around, immediately pulling his tights up. He points toward the cell.

cVc: That better have been a fucking finger!

Cancer begins to crawl toward Crank who turns around to see him.

cVc: No sir.

He reaches down and with his index finger, slams it into the hole in the back of Cancer's back.


cVc pushes deeper, abrely able to stand himself on his wounded legs. Suddenly Cancer begins to violently tap out on the floor.

Jiles: Fuck this shit! Fuck this shit! I'm fucking done!

Wolf: Cancer Jiles quits.

Ace: Wouldn't you?

Wolf: Yea, twenty minutes ago!

The referee pulls Chance Von Crank back and away from Cancer. He is in obvious pain in his legs.

Wolf: Yea Chance, you win, now leave that man alone.

The referee raises Chance's arm in victory.


The inmates all bang on the bars and yell. Suddenyl toilet paper begins to flay out of the cells.

Wolf: What are they doing?

Ace: This doesn't look good.

Wolf: Is that toilet paper... on fire?

A flaming roll of toilet paper flies out, followed by another. The alarms begin to sound. The inmates begin to scream something about a riot.

Wolf: Get those guys out of there!

cVc looks at the guard, then at the referee and jumps into the cell they ebgan in.

cVc: I'm staying in here!

Cancer crawls toward the doors.

Jiles: You fucking win, let me in!

Chance opens the cell doors and with the referee's help pulls Cancer in. The referee shuts the cell door behind them and the guards yell for them to lock it up.

Wolf: At least our guys are safe!

Ace: Unless they burn the place down.

Wolf: I didn't think of that.

Ace: I don't think they did either.

Alarms continue to sound and riot guards run into the cell block as we cut back to the arena. We pan across the fans watching the right on the screen provided for the main event.

Wolf: Well folks, that'll do it for Lethal Injection five! I'm Waylon Wolf, this is Tommy Ace, and we'll see you on the next edition!

Ace: Peace the fuck out! Let's get drunk Waylon.

We fade to black.

Snuff Film

The stream continues one it has gone black, so you continue to watch.


As the static fades muffled screams fill a dark and wet hallway. A flickering light alludes us to it coming to the end of it's life. Steps can be heard. Louder and louder they grow as the muffled screams become more frequent, more heart wrenching.

The camera view is close to the ground, pointed at the ceiling, but only temporary as it begins to lift up. The camera man turns and walks down the hallway. As he descends, we can make out a chair down toward the end. In this chair sits a man, crouched over and tied down.

We get closer, that man is Maynard Crane.

He is gagged; signs of tears down his cheeks as he yelps with more muffled screams toward the man holding the camera. Blood runs down the side of his face as we also see what seem to be stab wounds in his right shoulder.

Beside Maynard, on a table next to him, the camera pans over and zooms in on Paco, inside of a cage. Maynard's pet rat screeches. A few moments later the man holding the camera sits it on the table beside Paco. Our view now is of Maynard from the left side.

Foot steps.

The camera man walks around and into view, his body anyway. A High Octane Wrestling shirt covers his chest. Maynard tries to move forward and scream, but can't do anything.

Man: Yeu screamingk is beingk most inefficient. No von is comingk to save yeu. Yeu are only vasting breath, vhich is vastingk movement...AND ZHE EMBOSSER VASTES NO MOVEMENT!!!

High Octane Wrestling Hall of Famer Ulf “Embosser” Stroeheimmer fires his trusty #970000-colored AR-15 assault rifle into the air, then bends down, putting his face just inches from Maynard who begins to tear up. He knows who this man is, and what he is capable of. Of what he does for a living.

Embosser stands back up and turns around, his hands behind his back. He stands straight up and stares away from Maynard.

Embosser: Crane, yeu upset a man vit zhe most powerful connectingks. Is beingk too bad...yeu had zhe potential, und vit zhe proper focus und trainingk, could have been zhe most adequate wrestler in zhe Row of Wrestlingk Death.

Maynard pleads through the gag.

Embosser: Is beingk most unfortunate yeu vil not be vitness to zhe unification of zhe Wrestlingk Row Death und zhe Wrestle Octane High. Vil be most efficient.

Embosser chuckles.

Embosser: How is yeu masked man sayingk it? Ah, yes, it is time.

Embosser swings around, lifting his AR-15 as he does and aiming it off camera.

One shot.

The blood of Paco splashes through the cage and onto Maynard's face. He screams again. Embosser slowly moves the pistol to the center of Maynard's forehead.

Embosser: Good night Crane. Have a most pleasant Embossment.

He pulls the trigger.