SAW XI: Leaked Scene

Hours later, Jamal stirs, and finds himself bound to an old wooden chair. His panicked eyes search the surrounding abyss while the stench of mold and decay cling to his flaring nostrils.

“Where the hell…” The youth strains against the chains wrapped around his arms and chest—a futile struggle. “Duane! Duane! You best not be playin’ again, man! Ain’t nobody gonna watch yo’ dumbass TikToks!”

A puppet on a tricycle rolls out of the shadows.

“What the fuh-”

“Hello Jamal. I’d like to play a game.”

“Duane! Hand to God, Imma boot this stank ass puppet upside yo-”

A flood of light blinds the captive. The puppet continues in that sinister monotone.

“Jamal. You’ve been stuck in the tenth grade for the last eight years. You’ve never taken your academics seriously. But tonight you will, for they are a matter of life…and death.”

Squinting, Jamal struggles to make sense of the contraption around him—some kind of deranged Rube Goldberg machine. Some real Looney Tunes shit.

The puppet gestures to a nearby whiteboard. “The task is simple. Answer each of these 5 equations correctly and you go free. Get one wrong and the drinky crow dips his beak into the little cup, releasing a giant protractor blade that takes your head clean off.”

Jamal smacks his lips. “Man, this some bullshit.”

“You have one hour to—”

“35, 100, 383, 49, 2”

The puppet sits silent and motionless.

“…what?” It finally asks, voice cracking.

Jamal sighs. “35, 100, 383, 49, 2. That’s the answer to these dumb-ass, baby-bitch equations. Can I go?”

The puppet goes silent again as the killer checks the answers. Then comes a demented chuckle.

“An impressive attempt, Jamal, but the answer to #4 is 56. Maybe next time you should be a little more—”

“Man, that’s the cosine! You gotta divide the right side by the hypotenuse!” Jamal huffs. “Corny ass Pinocchio.”

“You can argue all you want Jamal but…wait…” The puppet goes silent again. Minutes pass.

“Man, can I go? Some of us got shit to do today. Grown man playin’ with dolls up in this busted ass Diddy dungeon.”

Suddenly, a loud click. The chains go slack, open locks tumbling to the floor.

“You’re free,” the puppet declares with barely veiled agitation. “And I hope you’ve learned something about-”

“What? Torture? You think this Bugs Bunny shit can touch me?” Jamal claps his hands. “Dawg I been in Public School for seventeen fuckin’ years!”

The puppet coughs “…you could just get your GED.”

Jamal snatches a lock off the floor and chucks it. “Man, shut the fuck up!”

The lock sails through the air and takes the puppet’s little white head clean off. Ω