UFC 67 Part I -The Fix Is In

Crotop was really worked up at me after I blew the Hyman Mills hit. So some of Crotop's underlings grabbed me on the street and then grabbed Mills at his hotel and we were taken back to Crotop's compound. Mills and I were forced to sit down, surrounded by skinnies with AKs and itchy trigger-fingers, while Crotop began another lecture. He once again presented me with a task, and once again threatened my life if I refused or failed

"I need you to fix fight. Mills- you will fight. McStallen- you will train. You are going to fight match and lose on purposes. I will bet against you and I will win lots of money. If that goes well, your debts is forgiving and I will let you go. But if not- and if you messing up again- sniper in building will blow your heads up." explained Crotop.

"But I'm a Quaker- I don't fight- not even for my country or my family!" exclaimed Mills.

Crotop socked him in the gut. "Mills, a Quaker don't go around a village cutting off heads and shit, or mowing down prairies dogs with a suped-up golf cart."

"Hey, those rats were mucking up one of the sand traps!" exclaimed Mills

Crotop socked him again. "Mills, you are truly a disgrace." he said.

"Leave him alone!" I yelled.

Crotop stared me down. "OK Mr. Tough-guy- now I punches you too."
And the bugger wound up like a Slavic Pop-Eye and decked me. I just kept my mouth shut from that point on as Crotop outlined the plan...

Mills and I were to go to UFC (Ultimate Fighting Championship) 67 and pose as a fighter and a trainer. As the trainer, I had the responsibility of shaving Mills' back and chest before the fight. Besides that, all I had to do was sit in a chair near the ring for a couple minutes and make sure Mills took a fall. And all Mills had to do was put on a diaper, walk out into the octagon, and let someone kick the crap out of him. And that was it. We didn't know who Mills would be fighting, but Crotop explained it would "probably just be some ass-hole with a shaved head in a diaper."

Mills asked a follow-up question. "That fighter will probably be queerer than a Wausau plumber! What if the bastard tries to sodomize me out there?"

Crotop responded, "Well if and when that happens, you TAKE THE PAIN!!!!!....TAKE THE PAIN!!!!!"

Shiiiit.... UFC 67: THE ULTIMATE REVENGE. Now I'm not sure what exactly the participants are attempting to get their revenge upon, but I suspect they are trying to exact revenge on everyone who has picked on them their whole lives by putting on a diaper, stepping in a ring, and murdering a complete stranger who has done no wrong by them.

The match is in a week in Las Vegas Nevada (USA) so I'll have to sneak back into the States through its unsecured southern border, dodge the minute-men, doctor up some paperwork, and then pose as a trainer. Should be fun and hopefully I can catch a UNLV game out there -although it's not the same without Tark.

Not to digress too much- but about 10 years ago in Malta I killed an innocent bystander in a shoot-out at a market following a botched assassination attempt. The poor bastard looked exactly like Jerry Tarkhanian and for a second I thought it was, and that I had killed a legend through my negligence. So I grabbed his wallet and checked the ID- luckily the fellow's name was something like Anton Buttigieg or something. What a relief.

I'll write more from Las Vegas