WOE: Do you know who I am?!

Woe is holding a man up by the collar of his shirt. The man, easily 250 pounds and overweight for his height, is squirming and trying to get away. The surrounding area reveals a jungle scene again with no buildings in sight. The man being held hostage by Woe is wearing a nasty, sweaty shirt due to the humid tropical jungle.

WOE: I SAID. DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!

MAN: You... you're woe...

WOE: Excuse me? I didn't hear you, you thief? WHO. AM. I?

MAN: You're... you're Woe.

WOE: You're damn straight I am.

Woe punches the man straight in the face and throws him into the ground. Woe places a foot on the chest of the man, leans over, and points at him with his extremely large hand.

WOE: If you ever take a portion of my product without placing some deniro en mi mano, you will be executed in front of your children. Comprehend?

The man nods furiously. Woe spits on him and walks away through the jungle.

WOE: You see the sort of imbeciles I have to deal with? It's a simple operation. I provide an intoxicating product that makes you incredibly strong. Toxin-6 not only makes you strong, but it can heal any injury that you have. Tuberculosis? Gone. Broken leg or neck? Instantly repaired. Cancer? Healed. It's a miracle drug...while you're using it. However, as soon as you decide to not buy my drug, the symptoms come back. The tuberculosis comes back stronger than ever. The leg that was broken slowly returns to the state in which it was before. The cancer fires back stronger than ever. It's not an instant fix despite what these users think. They assume that because the illness is gone that it's gone for all eternity despite me never once telling them that. You're probably dwelling on the fact I said Toxin-6 instead of 7. The fact of the matter is that I developed TWO miracle drugs. The first one I created, Toxin-6, made me larger than my petite form had ever been, but I wanted more. I wanted to be the biggest and the baddest man to ever walk the face of the planet. El mundo. Thus I created Toxin-7 and it made me grow to sizes that no mortal had ever witnessed or endured. But Toxin-7 is mine. MINE. I don't allow anyone to partake in Toxin-7. They wouldn't be able to comprehend it's sheer magnitude. They-

BISHOP: Hey Boss!

Woe sees Bishop sitting on the front porch of Woe's house with his feet kicked up smoking a big cigar.

WOE: Hey Bishop. May I ask what the hell you're doing?

BISHOP: Oh you know chilling. Taking a break for a minute.

Woe is beginning to shake in rage.

WOE: Did I authorize a break, Bishop?! And are those MY CUBAN CIGARS?!

Bishop, suddenly realizing that he's angered his boss, puts out his cigar and runs back in the house.

Woe clenches his fists. He walks up to the chair that Bishop was sitting in and throws it ten feet away from the house, smashing it to pieces. Woe picks up the cigar that Bishop was smoking and looks incredibly pissed off. He picks up a nearby lighter and lights it up. He lifts up his mask enough to puff on the last of it. He leans against the pole on the porch and continues smoking obviously pissed off.

WOE: I only hire people who are about to die. I find them, give them some Toxin-6, and hire them on for the rest of their life. I feed them, I house them, and I give them something worth living for. They get to have all the Toxin-6 they want for free, but they can never leave. That's the only thing I ask. I only request they give their life over to me as reward for saving their life.

He finishes the cigar and flicks it away. He sighs.

WOE: Well. It looks like someone is getting a promotion.

He walks in the house and slams the door behind him.