Beating the Game

As Taylor, Trixie, Tyra and Pam walked back towards the production area, Taylor was full of questions.
Well, technically he was also full of blood, bones, and... the poopy place, but at least metaphorically for the moment, in his mind were contained a lot of questions and he began to verbalise them.
"So, Trixie... does this mean nobody wins The Spin-Off Games?"
"Ha!" The Tyra-Evans smirked. "I thought that much was obvious."
"But remember Taylor, it means nobody else loses too!" Trixie replied.
"So who gets the prize then?"
"Nobody, you fool!" The Tyra snarled (captivity was not a good look on a model/host.)
"But Taylor, what's much more important is we find out exactly who is putting us through this humiliation, attempt to understand why it's benefiting them, and persuade them to let us go free, possibly with some free merchandise!" Trixie said.
"I thought it was that accounting firm?" Taylor wondered.
"Pah! They're just a minor sponsor." (Tyra)
"Accountants couldn't possibly be this creative, Taylor! Somebody both brilliant and twisted is running this show." (Trixie)
"So what's our plan when we meet them?" (Taylor)
"Certain death is my bet!" (Tyra)
"I'm thinking peaceful negotiation." (Trixie)
"I hope they're cute!" (Pam)

At that point the conversation ceased, for the final three and their hostage had mentioned the aforementioned corridor in the production area. Barring its entrance was a crowd of Evanses, most of whom were still clad in their previous rounds' hosting garb.
"We can't let you past!" The chef-Evans cried.
"Certainly not!" The bush-Evans added for good measure. (Approximately half a cup, if you must know.)
"Would you rather we kill the hostage?" Trixie threatened.
"Not really! Step aside, fellow Evanses!" The mountain Evans chose to let diplomacy work, and a moment later the way forward was clear. Shoving Tyra Evans aside, Trixie and her crew ran forward and down the hallway.

After several twists and turns, the hallway straightened out. At the far end was a glowing blue mist.
"What's that?" Taylor said.
"I think... it's a portal..." Trixie answered.
"Hooray! I love portals! Me first!" Pam cried, and ran forward and into the blue mist. A loud POP! coincided with her disappearance.
"How does she know anything about portals?" Trixie said.
"No idea." Taylor replied. "But I guess we better follow her."
POP!
POP!



It took a moment for her vision to clear, but Trixie soon made out that she was in some sort of small granny-flat; there were a couple of couches in one corner, around a table with a... Darth Vader Mr Potato Head on it? Weird. In the other corner of the room was a small kitchenette... Pam was in there, eating a piece of what appeared to be deep fried pizza! Weirder still. Large sliding doors let in light from one side of the room, and Trixie noticed a pale man who appeared to be in his late 20s seated on one of the couches. A laptop sat open on the table before him.
"Who are you?!?!" Trixie, Taylor, and the pale man all exclaimed at once.
"It's the brilliant and twisted man!" Pam cried from the kitchen in between bites of pizza. "He's not that cute though!"
"Well, I'll go first then." Trixie said. "I'm Trixie Hobbetts, investigator."
"Um, I'm Taylor, a remarkably talented kid." Taylor said. "Do we still get a prize?"
"Weeellll, that's not entirely up to me." The pale man replied. "In fact, if I had my way, this probably wouldn't be happening at all. But anyway, introductions. I'm Karl Nicholls, a.k.a Lark Victory - one of the writers of the 01 Blog Novel series. I'm half of the reason you guys exist."
"Hooray!" Pam cried enthusiastically. "I love existing!"
Karl smiled wanly.
"Wait a minute," Trixie interjected. "Are you saying that we're not even real apart from you? And that this, this... poky flat, this is the real world?"
"Well, not all of it, obviously." Karl replied. "But it's my little corner of the real world. Mine and Cass's, to be precise."
"It's awfully drab." Trixie said.
"Hey! That's enough about my house! Now tell me why you're here and be done with it please!" Karl was beginning to sound offended.
Taylor decided to take over from Trixie. "We were wondering if we could finish the game please Sir Mr Karl. We want to all be winners and have no more humiliation and killing and stuff. As it is I'm going to have nightmares about seeing nobody in particular blown to shreds."
"Yes well that wasn't really my doing." Karl replied.
"Can you help us sir, please?" Taylor said.
"Yes, please?" Pam joined in, batting her eyelashes and flicking her hair in that girly attractive kinda way.
Karl paused for a moment, then smiled.
"I'll see what I can do." He said.


Chapter Twenty-One : : Chapter Twenty-Three