There was a knocking at my door. KNOCK KNOCK. Knocking was so mysterious, so friendly yet so hateful. . . I loved it. It gave me something to employ my time. It was probably parole. Atleast, that is who I thought it was.

CREEEK

The door opened yeah it opened big deal it opened what's the problem nothing Im the problem nothing else hey look it ain't parole woop de doo I wouldn't get out but who was it I dunno he introduced himself.

. . .

He claimed his name was Calypso. Judging by the large scars on his head, I didn't believe it was his original name as he probably had something to hide. Most likely a mild case of paranoia went to far would be my guess. He began to make me an offer.

AN OFFER

ooh an offer I don't care who cares I sure don't lets kill him no he says he can cure me what is he talking about I don't have a problem this man is an idiot and he knows it look at his head looks like Bruce Willis only scrawny and more idiotic ha what kinda name is Calypso correct answer is it's a bad one it is a very bad one screw him his contest involves killing ill do it lets take him on

TAKE HIM ON?

I'll do it for the cure. . . not for the problem . . .