The Claw

Wakeington Field

The A-men recently watched the movie, the Saw II, after watching Saw I several minutes beforehand. The results? A new understanding of the world's excruciating pain, and don't forget, PSYCHOS! This movie influenced me so much that I decided to make a spin-off. The name? The Claw. That's right. The CLAW.


The Claw Begins

The figure sat, in a calculated position no less, in a brown, rusting chair. It was a wheelchair to be exact. Gloom filled the room and emanated throughout, touching every nook and cranny within the room's radius. In the shadows, he planned a scheme so devious, so maniacal, so full of hatred, that he did not yet understand the scheme himself. He was foolish, but a genius. He was maniacal, but perfectly sane.

He was a Tyrannosaurus Rex with Pancreatic Cancer.

This once ingenuos boy called Adam Bittleby led a humble life. His fellow T-Rexes treated him well, and he enjoyed their companionship. Later, however, these circumstances changed. His best friend Bob Doodleby began to ridicule him and his floppy shoes. "Clowns would pee on you for looking so ridiculous," Doodleby reminded him daily. His closest lady friend Myra Tootles constantly joked about his choice of clothing; more specifically, she joked about how he had only one pair of trousers a grandpa wouldn't even wear.

Little Bittleby decided to ignore his friends, but they did not ignore him. "Why?" little Bittleby asked, staring at the night sky. "Why??" At a time when most dinosaurs feared the mighty T-Rex, they simply pointed and laughed at Bittleby. He was a nothing, a nobody. "Hey Bittleby," a pathetically puny rhinocerous would playfully chide, "wanna hear a joke?" "Oh my! After all my friends have left me, there is yet one! And he's not even a T-Rex!" he thought. "Ok! Shoot!" he replied enthusiastically. "What do ya call a large green reptile that's green and ravages our kind?" "A dog?" Bittleby wondered.

It was not unknown that Bittleby was incredibly slow, more than mentally lacking. His parents first noticed this when he ate rhinocerous poo, as opposed to the tasty herbivorous reptile set before him on his plate. When his parents asked why he ran out of the house and binged on such poo, he explained, "You're a piece of poo!"

The impossibly dense Bittleby continued to guess. "A dinosaur isn't a dog, you stupid," said the rhino, accidentally forgetting he gave away the answer. Oops. Not like Bittleby would get the answer anyway. "I don't believe it! No, it can't be! Stop it. STOP IT! PLEASE STOP!" The rhino continued to give hints.

"I'll give you more hints, buddy ol' pal. Since you're my buddy pal. Since you're dumb and all. And by dumb, I mean morbidly brainless."
"Hmmm....OK!" "
"What's a green dinosaur that has no friends?"
"That's a tough one......"
"What's a green dinosaur with no friends, AND eats my poo when I'm not looking?"
"MmMMMmm....what's that smell....??"
"Dangit!"

And without answering the question, Bittleby would hop behind the rhino and promptly devour all poo in sight, even his own.

"That last one was bitter, but oh well! A dog's gotta eat when a dog's gotta eat."

Reflecting on his life, Bittleby's understood the factors driving him to madness. In fact, everyone, including himself expected it. For when Bittleby wasn't being made fun of in his younger days, he was plotting to become a mad scientist. Though he never succeeded in the science department, he obviously succeeded in becoming a madman.

Present. His plan was ingenius; every detail and nuance had been perfectly calculated. Though clinically retarded, he specialized in the art of perfectionism. He had his victims precisely where he wanted them. The rules were set.

In a sinister voice he whispered:

"Let the games begin."