In the same way that hip hop can sometimes be classified as “underground”…so can a select few of The Celebrity Death Polls. Every once in a while, a secret Death Poll is posted online and voted on by a small number of
Obviously, taking out Fiddy wasn’t going to be an easy task. If it isn’t daunting enough that he travels with an entourage of bodyguards and fellow rappers, he also appears to be bulletproof. I needed something special…crafted just for this purpose. I made a phone call to a couple of buddies that happen to know a thing or two about mechanics, contraptions, and all out terror…Marcus Dunstan and Patrick Melton (Feast 1-3 and Saw 4-7). They were up for the job and actually had the trap built in only two days. They made me a bed; an electrically charged, robo-transforming, bladed-bedpost, arm chopping, death-inducing…bed. This should be interesting.
The plan was to get 50 Cent and his crew over to a private party at a mansion in Santa Monica after a show. How could I possibly pull this off? With hookers and cocaine of course! Once he and his crew had arrived, we knew it was on. Candy, our “hired help” for the evening, lured the egomaniac known as “Ferrari F-50” up to the room fitted with the newly constructed and appropriately titled Death Bed. Apparently Fiddy is quite the freak, as it only took a minute or so for Candy to get his hands fastened to the headboard. Just like that, with the flip of a switch, the bedposts spun around ripping his strapped-in arms out at the sockets. Suddenly the posts opened up, multiple blades burst out and began spinning, quickly turning the dangling limbs into puree. As blood spewed from his mutilated shoulders, Candy began stabbing Mr. Cent with lollipops to make sure she finished him off (her idea, not ours) for no extra charge.
I guess you could say our friendly neighborhood prostitute Candy really took 50 Cent to the “Candy Shop”…or is that Candy “CHOP”?!?! Either way, this was another successful Celebrity Death Poll because of her and the evil minds of Patrick and Marcus. So pour out a bottle of Fiddy’s vitamin water in memory of this fallen zero, while listening to somebody with actual rhymin’ skills like Biggie, Nas, or Eminem even.