Bartolo was at home sitting down on his sofa smoking a cigarette and listening to the radio to the one thing he enjoyed the most, baseball when they came for him. He heard a loud bang at the door and within seconds his apartment was filled with cops.

Did somebody snitch? It was a couple weeks since he killed Jimmy Bell eventually people would find out that he had gone missing and that Bartolo and his buddies were the last people to have seen him. Bartolo knew his boys could be trusted and that they wouldn't dare rat him out. If they did Bartolo also had dirt on them they did after all did help him move and hide the body. He didn't need to worry though because It turned out to be something else entirely.

Fraud, embezzlement, tax evasion. From his "day" job at Goliath National bank. He hardly showed up to work with his office empty all the time. When an audit came that launched an investigation into his activities at the bank. He never really liked numbers and dropped out of school at fifteen preferring the streets. So when given a job at a bank with money Bartolo took most of the money in his pockets instead of laundering it or hiding it somewhere where the feds couldn't find it.

The trial came and Bartolo hired the best lawyer he could find Denny Schultz. He fought as best as he could but the judge and the jury didn't buy it. The writing was on the wall and with these tough economic times people were angry that he was stuffing his pockets with money and laughing while people were broke.

"The court finds Bartolo Colon guilty on all counts and is hereby sentenced to five years in prison."

They sent him off to prison. Bartolo caught a little glimpse of the Philadelphia skyline before it disappeared and he was sure that it wouldn't be the last time that he'd see it.

Hopping off the prison bus they gave him his prison clothes and sent him off to his cell. He was now inmate No.23345 and was stuck here for the next five years. But in prison the years don't really matter because to Bartolo in prison you really only do two days the day you come in and the day you come out.

Bartolo was sitting down at the mess hall eating whatever the hell passes for food in prison. He was minding his own business only in prison for a couple of days, he hadn't made any friends yet or enemies. Things were different here people who would usually hate each other on the outside ended up dropping their affiliations and working together instead. Case in point he noticed a member of "The Sharks" sitting down with one of Brunton's boys both were rival gangs of small time hoodlums in South Philly but in here they seemed to get along.

A group of three guys approached Bartolo. One was a fat chubby dude fatter than Bartolo and the two others had more muscles than him. The man in the middle with the most muscles of the trio his hair was blonde and he had a receding widow's peak the man appeared to be this groups leader and spoke first.

"Hey Fat boy. You're sittin in my seat."

Bartolo ignored him and continued eating his slop.

"You hear me? Who da fuck do you think you are? Do you know who I am?"

Bartolo paid him no mind until the leader put his hands on him. In Prison it always helps to beat the strongest looking guy up in order to establish dominance very early. Bartolo hit the man in the chest in his solar plexis and heard a oof. He continued beating him up until he fell to the ground and left him bleeding. The other two ran away and the guards came in to take Bartolo away and to get the other guy medical attention. As the guards dragged Bartolo away he saw all the other inmates looking at him. They knew he wasn't a man to fuck with now.

The fight landed Bartolo a couple of days in the hole. The leader of the little prison gang that attacked him was Mitchell Shannon he had gained a reputation for starting fights with all the new inmates but it never landed him in the prison infirmary. Mitchell was doing eight years for getting caught for a robbery in Pittsburgh. While Mitchell liked to act like a big dog he was actually a small fish in a big pond here in prison the real people who ran it kept low profiles. One of them decided to pay him a visit.

"Rise and shine Colon. You have a visitor."

Bartolo looked up and saw an old short man with grey hair. He was an inmate just like everyone else.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"The name's Carlo Norman."

Bartolo's eyes lit up. Carlo Norman was a legend in Philadelphia. At his peak he managed to run all of the underground casinos and speakeasies all over the city even expanding into Atlantic City. He'd heard of some big guy being in here in this prison but he didn't expect it to be Carlo. He was currently doing time when one of his associates flipped and snitched to the FBN.

"I've heard about you Carlo. You got a big reputation. What do you want with me?"

"Cut the bullshit boy. I damn well know you ain't no banker. I've noticed how you've handled yourself in here and could use a man with your skills. Come with me."

As he walked with Carlo, Bartolo noticed Carlo's power in prison. All of the guards would call him Sir and it felt like he was bossing them around giving them orders and they listened. If Carlo wanted they could let him walk straight out of prison through the front gates and no one would bat an eye. Carlo led Bartolo to another wing of the prison where Carlo seemed to have his own private gym. Carlo looked Bartolo up and down.

"Listen up boy. The guards run a fighting tournament with the inmates they bet on fights and get to watch you pieces of shit get knocked out for fun. Mitchell Shannon was my best fighter but since you took him out I won't be able to use him for a couple weeks. That won't be a problem since you're going to be fighting for him. There's a fight coming up next weekend so I suggest you start training you could use it tubby."