This story stems from my interest in both horror movies as well as the misadventures of "The Juice" Simpson. It is purely a product of my imagination. (Please read and review this work afterwards)
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to A Nightmare on Elm Street, Friday the 13th, Child's Play, or any movie characters mentioned here. They are both owned by separate companies.
A Taste of Juice
It was around 5:00 in the afternoon, and Freddy Krueger was sitting in a suite at the MGM Grand Hotel in Las Vegas. Because he had accumulated so many points on his card during his last visit to Sin City, he was able to book a couple of nights in a rather large (and expensive) suite at the MGM, the largest hotel on the Strip, as well as his personal favorite place to stay and gamble.
This time around, he had brought several of his friends: Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers, Pinhead, Charles "Chucky" Lee Ray, Djinn, and Candyman. All of these characters were eager to make some money so that they could retire in comfort and not have to worry about killing other people to make a quick dollar. They quickly accepted Freddy's offer to take a Vegas vacation.
In the suite's living room, Freddy was laying down on the couch, skimming through the day's headlines in a local newspaper. Chucky was counting his winnings from earlier in the day- he had played a great hand during a game of Texas Hold 'Em and won $4,000 in the process. He intended to buy Tiffany some jewelry when the gang returned home.
Jason was alone in his bedroom, reading the yellow pages of the phone book to see which clubs he could visit during the evening. Since he was the most kill-happy of the group, he had decided to stake out a few establishments to catch a hapless victim.
Just then, the front door to the suite opened, and Pinhead, Myers, Djinn, and Candyman walked into the living room, carrying several boxes with them.
"Hey guys!" Freddy exclaimed. "What did you buy now?"
"Get a load of this," said Candyman. "We went to some sports memorabilia store on the Strip. The guys saw some stuff that they wanted, and I saw some stuff I liked, so we scooped it up. Besides, we had plenty of spending money, thanks to my big win last night. Here, take a look at it!"
The previous night, Candyman had parlayed a modest $350 bet on a horse race into winnings of $6,500. The trip to the memorabilia shop was his way of celebrating.
Chucky immediately hopped off of his chair and started rummaging through one of the boxes. "Wow! A football signed by O.J. Simpson! How much did you get for this?"
"I got it for $100," said Djinn proudly. "We have other stuff too, such as a signed jersey by Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, another O.J.-signed football, a golf bag once owned by Gary Player, and other things. We'll make a killing off of this stuff when we get home because we can resell it!"
"Good idea," Pinhead noted. "The more money we have, the better we can live."
Suddenly, a loud banging on the door interrupted the group's conversation. "Now what?" said Freddy. "I hope it's room service, because I'm thirsty."
He got up to open the door. As soon as he opened it, a large, burly man walked right in without greeting him or the group. "Hey, what is this? You guys aren't room service!" Freddy exclaimed. "You can't enter here, this is a private suite."
Four other men, all of them large and burly like the first one, followed the first guy through the door. What caught the group's attention, though, was the very familiar-looking guy who walked in last.
That guy was no other than O.J. Simpson himself, and from the look on his face, he wasn't very happy.
"Don't let nobody out of this room," O.J. shouted to his men. Turning his attention to Freddy and the group, he then said, "Motherfuckers! Think you can steal my shit and sell it?"
"What the hell are you talking about, O.J.?" asked Freddy. "We didn't take any of your belongings."
"Don't let nobody out of here," O.J. said, ignoring Freddy's remarks. He continued to shout, "Motherfucker, you think you can steal my shit?"
"Mind your own business, Simpson! We bought this stuff at a store," Candyman shouted back.
"Look at this shit," a bodyguard noted. "Get over there," said another bodyguard to Jason, who had come out of his bedroom to see what all the commotion was about.
"You think you can steal my shit?" O.J. screamed at Freddy, more agitated than before.
"Backs to the wall, guys, and walk yourselves over there now," a bodyguard said to Candyman and Djinn.
"Think you can steal my shit?" O.J. said once again.
"Mike took it," Chucky squealed, pointing at Myers while at the same time trying to get Simpson's attention. O.J. whirled around and screamed to a shocked Chucky "I know fucking Mike took it, you fucking midget!"
"Okay, okay! Don't get so defensive!" exclaimed Chucky.
"Search the guys. And I'm going to see what this Pinhead guy's trying to prove," said a bodyguard to another.
Walking over to Pinhead, O.J. told him, "I always thought you were a straight shooter."
"I'm cool, I am! I really am!" cried Pinhead.
"Stand up!" said the chief bodyguard to Chucky, Freddy and Jason, who had gone over to sit down on the couch. "Get your motherfucking asses up," another bodyguard said.
"Don't let nobody out of here, guys," O.J. told his men. Turning to Freddy, he exclaimed, "You! I trusted you, you miserable pruneface!"
"Look, I had nothing to do with it!" said Freddy, but it was clear that there could be no reasoning with Simpson.
"Bag this shit up, you two," the chief bodyguard said to Jason and Myers, who just stood near the door non-responsive and silent.
"Where'd you get all my personal shit, Freddy?" O.J. asked the horror master.
"The guys bought it at a memorabilia store on the strip, O.J. And to be honest, we were going to take it back home and resell it," said Freddy.
"Bag the stuff, boys," O.J. shouted to the group. "Bag it, bag it!"