Water-Cat: The Running Man

Fanfic of the '87-gem (Arnold Schwarzenegger) about a falsely-jailed American cast in a maze-of-survival for entertainment and moving himself to a 'know-good state' of escape/heroics.

Fanfiction of the original death-game empire gem The Running Man (Arnold Schwarzenegger). 

DISCLAIMER: This work of fanfiction offers no commercial/explicit ties to the referenced work (film) of inspiration and all images/references used herein (therefore) comprise a purely 'personal' expression for social art (for 'open' views/translations).

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MISTER KILLIAN: Aren't you feeling the neon honor of this great purge, prince?
MR. AMLAN SATAN: I was a Slovak-Algerian Catholic (American) investor, framed!
MISTER KILLIAN: Nobody cares, Satan (ha)...you're now the (only) 'Running' Man.

MR. AMLAN SATAN: This is some underground dystopia-cult hotel-death run fun.

MISTER KILLIAN: And your prison-warden recommended you highly for our cult!

MR. AMLAN SATAN: You evil hyena; and I'm to 'transform' my mind for your fun.
MISTER KILLIAN: Best of luck Running-Man (Facebook-like).

Poor poor AmlaN Satan, happy-go-lucky investor of Wall-St. and Nasdaq 'things' of the new century Earth, framed for an insider-trade and sent directly to prison, perhaps for some diamond-co. corruption ring 'linked' envy marking him for his super work for capitalism, once a simply Catholic optimist for Halloween pre-arrest and then 'extraction' into the Running-Man hotel-game for a dystopian underground cult choreographed by the millionaire evildoer Mister Killian who plotted (now!) to place Mr. Satan into the closed-chamber insider-club hotel hallways to serve as a (video-recorded) clown for 'field goals' (Selfie-like!).

KILLIAN: "What a grand game of the Running Man we've planned for our cult-members here in this Western Earth hotel of insider-club access and closed-chambers activity, ha...our wonderful prison-man, claiming he's so damn innocent, Mr. Satan (himself!) has to run through the halls of the Spring-hostel hotel (wow) and evade the 'buzz' of our masked demon-QB to rescue an escapism-dolled suite-living creature woman of great kilns, the Water-Cat...and should he fail, we all enjoy a (recorded!) cinema of...Freudian-knits (wow!)."

WATER-CAT (Damsel): You're here for the rescue.
SATAN (Amlan): Yes, c'mon, honey...I've made myself a little HCL-gun.

WATER-CAT (Damsel): Wow, using kitchen chemicals and some electric invention.

SATAN (Amlan): Oh, you read that cyber-blog about homemade chemistry-toys.

WATER-CAT (Damsel): Thank the stars you have, too, Mr. Satan (ok).

SATAN (Amlan): We both get out of here, and I get pardon from that millionaire!

WATER-CAT (Damsel): The 2nd-part of the bargain is we're to marry, yes?

SATAN (Amlan): That sounds just like heaven right-now, lady (ok)...good fiction.

Would you believe Mr. Satan made it out of that hellmouth(s)-hostel of insider-cult controls that day/night of his 'Running-Man' game of death/distance? He flew-away to Brussels/Belgium to open a waffle-dive with his damsel-darling (the 'Water-Cat', real-name: Esmerelda Shine). Of course, Mister Killian facilitated (all) necessary matters for Amlan's flightplan and cleared his name (alright). Poor poor Amlan ended up a 'magician' of that disastrously acidic 'Freudian-hyperbole' game...and authorities (now) began to creep-closer to the underground insanity-ring of Mister Killian (himself). That's fiction-for-purge (Facebook-like).

"Doing well is the result of doing good. That's what capitalism is all about" (Ralph Waldo Emerson). 

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)