Kill Fest

"Well, I think it's time to unleash the demon," a smiling Fat Daddy said to himself as he reached for his phone beside the table top computer. Depressing 7 digits along with an area code, he allowed a moment for the phone on the other end to ring. A male's voice picked up.

"Yes," the voice said in a rough baritone tone.

"It's time to go in, do what you do best."

"Copy that, do you want this done in any particular order, or should I just take them out as I feel fit?"

"No, it really doesn't matter; just make sure none of them walk out of Penn Station alive.

"I copy that, even the two government agents?"

"You have a problem with that?"

"No problem at all, it's what I'm best at."

"Good, take them all," Fat Daddy said hanging up the receiver and placing his hand over his computer keyboard. Within a little more than a minute, he composed an email that would forever change the deadly game and place all of its combatants in more lethal jeopardy.