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Whoever said cheaters don't win never did time in Oz. Hell, even in the the real world cheaters win all the time. It's the way of the world and been the way of the world since time began. And if someone tells you otherwise, they're either stupid or trying to sell you something. Probably the latter. But here in this fuckhole, cheating is more than just winning, it's about survival. In here, cheating is an art form and I'm a master fucking painter. I know how to play the game better than anyone and that's the God's honest truth.
People think I'm crazy for entering Cyril into this boxing thing, but they don't know dick. Cyril was always the muscle to my brains. I was a scrawny kid, so I learned how to use my head to outsmart the other fuckers on the playground, in the neighborhood, or the members of a rival gang. And lord knows, I've honed that skill in Oz.
But Cyril...Cyril always led with his fists. Always. Be it with the old man or some asshole trying to fuck with me. He would hit first and ask questions later. People think he's slow now -- his brain gone -- and that might be true. But that instinct remains the same. He always come out swinging.
So if I have to spike some jizzbag's water to level the playing field, it's the least a brother can do. And if, no when, he wins this boxing championship, no one will think to fuck around with the O'Reily brothers. It'll be just like it was on the outside. The two of us against the world. They'll be no stopping us, just the way it should be. So my money's on us.
Literally, in fact.