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Criminal Athletes Tournament of Death
Final Four completed
03/28/07
by JT

With last night's results, the CATD Final Four is now complete:

South Division Results:

"Look at this muthaf@*ka..." Rae Carruth mumbled to himself. He took his toothpick out of his mouth, looked it over slowly, then placed it back between his teeth. He glanced lazily back up at PacMan Jones standing in the midst of his adoring fans.

PacMan was the current man of the hour. The "it factor" in the Criminal Athlete Tournament of Death, fresh off making headlines for his meeting with the Commissioner about his possible suspension from the league.

"10 arrests since joining the league but no convictions?" Rae thought to himself, "I wonder how that can happen...." You see, prison had taught him many lessons, but one had always stood out above all else. Rae Carruth knew what to do with a snitch. Just like Peyton Manning. One by one he took off his weapons, lying them on the ground. He was going to take his time with this one.

"Time to teach this young buck a lesson." Rae said as he slowly started walking in the direction of his foe.

Meanwhile PacMan had completely forgotten about his opponent. He was busy doing his thing. He was the hottest man in the CATD and he was going to live it up. He was doing everything you'd expect from a Criminal Athlete, signing autographs, punching women, slapping children..... Besides, it wasn't like this old timer Rae Carruth was any real threat to him. He was just going to pull an Indiana Jones when the fight started and shoot him where he stood. Game over.

Just as PacMan was finishing up molesting a couple of teenage girls before starting the fight, he felt a searing pain on both sides of his lower back.

"What the fu...." PacMan muttered, feeling at his lower back. His shirt was sticky... and warm. He looked at his blood soaked hand and turned slowly, realizing what had happened.

He looked back to see what he believed was the Devil himself staring at him calmly, slowly chewing on his toothpick. In both hands Carruth held each of PacMan's kidneys, a smile starting to spread accross his face. "You smell that snitch?" Carruth asked him. "I think you just shit yourself son."

PacMan started sobbing and fell to his knees, realizing what Rae Rae said was true. He was a snitch... and he had shit himself. Carruth then grabbed him by his dreadlocks yanking PacMans face towards him. "Look at you..." he said, shaking his head in disgust. "Crying like a little bitch. I can fix that though." PacMan did stop. His cries replaced with screams of pain as Carruth removed PacMan's eyes with his toothpick. Rae spent the next 15 minutes slowly eviscerating his adversary to the increasing delight of the crowd, using his only weapon.... a toothpick.

West Division Results:

Stephen Jackson couldn't understand what was happening. Why was the crowd turning on him? He was the favorite after-all, there was no way that Northern Colorado Punter could beat him. But that was the thing with Cinderella stories, no one wants them to end. So the longer NCP stayed alive, the longer it took for Stephen Jackson to finish him off, the more the crowd got behind Northern Colorado Punter. And it was starting to piss Stephen Jackson off. He had never been to fond of crowds anyway.

NCP was quick... quicker than Jackson had anticipated. He sliced and weaved with his butterfly knife with incredible celerity. He was like a young Sugar Ray Leonard, only if Sugar Ray were white, pudgy, and wearing a full punter's uniform. NCP sliced again, too slow. Jackson caught the single bar of NCP's helmet in his hand and twisted maniacally, the audible snapping of Northern Colorado Punter's neck could be heard as his body dropped to the ground.

Jackson howled at the crowd, victory was finally his. He turned back to NCP's lifeless body only to find him standing again, slicing Jackson completely through the left bicep. "How many times do I have to kill you, you fat piece of shit punter!!" He shrieked, chasing after him again. This time NCP ran to the crowd, knowing Jackson would follow him. Jackson lost him momentarily in the crowd before finally snatching NCP up by the back of his uniform, turning him and placing his pistol past the single bar face-mask, ready to end this once and for all. Just then he saw another Northern Colorado Punter run by, then another.... and another. "What the fuck is going on here!!" Jackson said in disbelief. He examined the crowd carefully, seeing Northern Colorado Punters everywhere. "I must finally have gone crazy." He thought to himself. "Or maybe not. White people all look the same anyway." then he pulled the trigger. The NCP in front of him dropped to the ground lifeless, but another ran in front of him, stabbing his chest with a switchblade and running off. Jackson then came to a sudden realization, he had seen this before, he had been tricked. It was a trap and he had walked right into it.

Just then he felt a sharp, cold pain followed by a numbing sensation as he crumpled to the ground. The real NCP had stabbed him directly through his spinal chord leaving him paralyzed and helpless.

"Well played." Jackson said as NCP stood over him. "I guess you're a Three Amigos fan too. The ending, Amigos, Amigos Everywhere. I should have seen it coming."

Northern Colorado Punter just stared, nodding his helmet slowly, his face masked in shadows.

"Just make it quick." Jackson said. "You bitch ass lil'.....(gargling)"

Jackson never finished his last insult as Northern Colorado Punter opened his trachea to the elements.

Cinderella lives to dance in the Final Four.

Semifinal Preview:

In a shocking upset, Northern Colorado Punter has advanced to the Final Four to face the juggernaut that is Rae Carruth. Like George Mason in last years NCAA tourney, NCP has captivated the nation with his amazing run to the semifinal round. Can he succeed where George Mason failed? My bet is no. Rae Carruth is just too hardened, too malicious and depraved. He is like the personification of pure evil. Plus with his sub 4.2 forty time, NCP won't be able to run and hide for long. But that's where you come in HippoNation. Your votes will decide....

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