For context, if I'm allowed to include these before the piece:
https://www.theguardian.com/tv-and-radio/2020/mar/21/rupaul-fracking-wyoming-ranch-land-oilhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=44IMVEWrlHw---
RuPaul Charles has dedicated his life to the art of drag. It is something he is known around the world for, building an empire that includes multiple versions of his hit reality show RuPaul’s Drag Race, and boosting his bank balance to considerable heights. It seems that there is nothing this Drag Queen cannot do, even venturing into realms that one wouldn’t quite imagine being to his taste. One fateful evening, however, in the studio parking lot for RuPaul’s Drag Race: All Stars, everything changed. As Ru reached for his car keys while chewing on an asparagus stick, he felt a sharp sting in his neck and the rustling of a black bag being placed over his head. He tried to scream but quickly fell silent, as his whole world faded to black.
When Ru opened his eyes, he had to take a moment for his focus to adjust. There was a bright light shining down on his face, and as he tried to move his arms and legs, he quickly came to realize that they were bound by restraints. He could feel that his body was horizontal, and around him were wooden walls that left him feeling extremely claustrophobic. Suddenly, he heard the click of a tape recorder, and a menacing voice began to speak out.
RuPaul Charles. For years, you have entertained the nation with your titillating Drag Race franchise, sending your success to heights most people could only dream of. Though the countless zeroes at the end of your bank balance would be enough for most people to live a life of luxury, your greed has gotten the best of you. Now, you spend your days looking for a quick buck, not caring one iota about the people you will hurt in getting it.
Three years ago, you revealed that you leased the 60,000 acres of land you have in Wyoming to oil companies that use the controversial method of fracking for sky-high profits. You take a commission of the money they make, uncaring of the consequences, allowing the shameless attack on our climate to continue. Now, you will face up to this crime, with one of my new inventions. Meet my trap, Mother Nature.
In the ceiling above you is one tonne of soil. This soil will slowly be released on top of you until it consumes you completely and leaves you buried alive. The only way to stop your demise is to give up something you have worked your whole life to keep at top condition. You once hosted a show called Good Work, but now it’s time for some Bad Work. Either side of your coffin is a masked surgeon. You must give them permission to cut the skin from your face without undergoing sedation. If you allow them to make six cuts, then you will be set free. If not, this will be your final resting place. Live or die. Make your choice.As Ru opened his mouth to scream for help, two masked faces looked down at him, stopping him before he could make a noise. Each raised their right hand, showing off a deadly-looking scalpel, and pointed with their left hand to the roof.
“What do you want from me?” asked Ru. “Do you need money? I’ve got plenty, I’ve got millions! Name your price!” Ru was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of grinding gears. It was at this moment that a small panel in the roof opened up, and the promised soil began to fall, first covering up Ru’s feet.
“Stop this! Those are Balenciaga shoes, my goodness! This is a terrible prank! MTV? Is that you? I’ve had enough. You better get me out of here now or I swear I-,” *thwack*. One of the surgeons had backhanded him. He felt a welt forming on his left cheek and one solitary tear began to roll down his face. He had never been treated like this, and he knew now that this was no joke. He had to make a decision, and fast. He would either die here, or leave with his face in literal pieces.
“Do it,” Ru said. “FUCKING DO IT YOU PARASITES!”
As his voice raised, the panel in the roof slowly shut, and the masked surgeons wasted no time in making their first cut. The scream that came from Ru’s throat was inhuman. It would have pierced the ears of anybody in the immediate area. Unfortunately for Ru, he was being kept in an abandoned warehouse with no signs of civilization for miles around. As for the surgeons? They had huge ear protectors on over their masks so that they wouldn’t be disturbed by the bloodcurdling shrieks of the man they were operating on.
Ru’s screams turned into maniacal giggles as the surgeons proceeded with their butchering of his face, but as they went to make their fifth incision, he spoke out.
“Enough,” he said, all of the fight having left his body. “I can’t take anymore. That’s… enough.”
The surgeons backed off, and for a moment, Ru thought that they had found some morality. Then, the familiar crunch and whirr of those gears sounded, and another compartment in the roof slowly opened. This time, the dirt poured in over his torso and seemed to be falling at a faster speed than earlier. He lay there, completely still, trying to find his happy place. The pain seared through his face, but he wouldn’t give whoever had put him here the satisfaction of knowing that. Not anymore. If he was going to go out, he was going to go out in style.
At this point, his torso and legs were completely covered. The panel closed up, but by this point, Ru had shut his eyes. He was reliving his glory days. The final roof panel then whirred open, beginning to cover Ru’s shoulders and head. He laughed. That glorious, iconic laugh. As he coughed and sputtered, he made sure to keep that cackle going, right up until his last breath. The trap was over. RuPaul had failed.
The surgeons looked at one another and then removed their masks. Underneath was none other than RuPaul’s Drag Race winner Bob the Drag Queen, and finalist Peppermint. They smiled.
“He’s gone,” Peppermint said. “He’s finally… gone. Now the network will have no choice. The gig is ours!”
“It’s about to Bob’s Drag Race up in this bitch,” Bob replied, before moving his blade across Peppermint’s throat in one quick flash. She fell to the floor, quickly bleeding out. Bob turned on his heel, striking a match and tossing it behind him, leaving the abandoned warehouse to burn. Now, the life he had always wanted, could be his.
by 
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