Sometimes accommodations fall through.

EXT. PRISON YARD—DAWN

Overcast. Industrial.

The gallows towers over the yard like it runs the place.

CHARLES RODMAN CAMPBELL is strapped into a squeaky, government-issued wheelchair and carted out—pissed off, and all too familiar with the stench of bureaucracy.

Two EXECUTIONERS flank him, keeping their moral distance.

They stop at the base of the stairs.

⸻

CAMPBELL (dry):

How the fuck am I getting up there?

They shrug.

It wasn’t in the budget.

⸻

LOUDSPEAKER:

VOLUNTEERS NEEDED TO LIFT INMATE #629817

Seven men step forward.

Two drop him.

One twists his ankle.

The chaplain offers moral support.

Eventually, they hoist him to the top—

majestic in its total lack of dignity.

⸻

ON THE PLATFORM

The HANGMAN squints at the setup.

HANGMAN:

Uh… the rope’s too short.

It dangles politely—

brushing Charles’s hair like a soft insult.

A teenage intern is handed $20

and sent sprinting to Home Depot.

⸻

TWENTY MINUTES LATER

New rope acquired. No receipt.

They tie the knot. Double-check the Bible. Pull the lever.

⸻

NOTHING.

The wheelchair jams in the trapdoor —

like a vending machine snack that just won’t drop.

It rocks. It squeaks.

Square peg. Round hole.

It does not fall.

Second lever. Nope.

Someone kicks it from underneath.

NOTHING.

⸻

CAMPBELL (looking down):

Goddamn.

⸻

FINAL SHOT

In the prison reception office,

a vending machine hums.

A bag of Fritos finally falls.

Empty calories.

⸻

EPILOGUE — VOICEOVER

Charles Rodman Campbell was the last man hanged in Washington State.

Walla Walla retired the gallows and switched to lethal injection—

somehow, there was a budget for that.