Murder .+. Owner

An old plump man walked up with a small piece of paper in his hands. He was at the pits when a man told him of this place. He wanted to make his dog a killing machine. He looked for a door bell, or something to get them to answer, unknowing if he was allowed to just walk in. But being nosey led him to just letting himself in. He looked around and called for someone "Hello, hello! is anyone here?" He wasn't the brightest, just a man of wealth and tradings and deals, and of course, pit fighting.

On a leash next to him an already buff doberman walked up. She began to growl at the wierd smells. It smelt like wolf. The man turned to his fighter. "Now now murder. Don't worry, I wont let them hurt you." Of course the dog didn't believe her master. But her growls quieted down.

The man took out a wad of money now and thumbed through it. Hoping a person walking by would see it. He was rich, very rich, and had come here with a request.