Remix
"Well that I am not entirely sure about." Stephen Evan replied. "But I would imagine the answer to your question will reveal itself at Tribal Circle. Come on, let's head there now."
And so the final three Spin-Off Games contestants and their newfound friend headed through the forest, following Mr Evan because he appeared to know where he was going.
Sure enough, 2 hours, 22 minutes, and 8 wrong turns later, they reached Tribal Circle.
The other Evanses were all seated there patiently, and standing in the host's area was none other than.... E. Ville Jeenius, or Ernie as he is more commonly known!!!!
!!!!
!
Actually nobody was that surprised, because we heard all about him in the previous chapter.
"Haha!" The 11-year old extremely intelligent sinister person laughed. "You thought you could beat the game, but now the game will beat you, final three!"
"Haha yourself, you pimply twerp!" Trixie shot back. "You thought your man was going to win but I blasted a big fleshy hole in his... flesh, and now you've got no shot at the three wishes, 'cos you went and made yourself the host, and everyone knows hosts can't win their own gameshows!"
"Haha right back at you, you obstinate Mexican... Mexican!" Ernie replied. "I figured out a way around that problem which I'm not going to tell you about, so there!"
"Wait, let me guess!" Trixie said. "You'll wait until there's only one winner left, probably one of your tame Evanses, then hold him at gunpoint 'till he gives you the prize, then shoot him anyway?"
"Um, uh... dangit! Shut up, Trixie! Right, anyway!" Ernie drew himself up to his full height, which was a little under 5 feet and not that intimidating. "The final challenge is upon us, and there can only be one winner!"
"I reckon there'll be more than one!" Trixie interjected.
"Dammit Trixie, shut up! There is only one winner, and that's final because I said so and I'm the producer of this show and the script writer and the guy that does the photocopying!"
"You have no control over what happens here Ernie." Trixie shot back.
"Yes I do! I am the owner! I am the script! I am this show!" Ernie replied, his face red with frustration.
"Not quite, Ernie. I met one of the Authors - you're nothing but a pawn in their hands."
"Authors? What are you talking about? If there were Authors, why haven't they made themselves more obviously known by now? And how come there's so much war and suffering? Surely a loving Author wouldn't let that happen! Believing in an Author is just wishful thinking - fairy tale stuff! The real world is a world of science and business, Trixie - wake up to that fact!"
"Ok, Ernie. I'm not going to bother arguing with you. Just say what's going to happen in your stupid final round and we'll let the results speak for themselves about whether or not there are Authors behind all of this."
Ernie sighed a sigh of relief. "Right! As I said before, the final challenge is upon us, and there can only be one winner! In this challenge, it is a simple case of survival of the fittest. At each end of the Heptagon of Battle I have installed a number of huge pumps. Upon my signal, the pumps will begin releasing a slow stream of ice-cold water into the arena. Slowly the place is going to fill up with freezing cold water, hahahahahhahaha!" Ernie's voice crackled as he laughed maniacally. "The winner will be whoever can stay alive the longest."
Nobody looked too happy about this news. One of the Evanses called out, "Hey, I thought you said we was jus gona shoot the broad and be done with it!"
Ignoring his staff member, Ernie raised a small ceremonial pistol, and fired it. "The round starts now!"
Rushing through what was left of the woods (the TULIP had levelled most of the forest, as nobody had bothered / been brave enough to turn it off), Trixie, Taylor and Pam looked around desperately for somewhere a bit higher than the rest of the landscape. Sadly, the mountain from the previous round had disappeared, and all was flat.
"Hey!" Taylor cried. "What about the Echidna cave?"
"Yes, that's a brilliant idea!" Trixie replied excitedly. "But what tree was it under?"
There weren't actually many available trees left. It was highly likely the cave was under one of the stumps - the three of them could have looked for hours without success!
But - by chance (or Author's intention, you decide) they saw a spike-backed creature heading into a hole under a nearby stump. The three quickly followed.
Inside the cave, a bunch of Echidnas and House Cats were seated around a small presentation area listening to a rat. Surprisingly, Steven Evan was also in the crowd. The three quickly joined him.
"Stephen, what is this?" Trixie asked in a whisper.
"Oh, it's the Annual Combined Less-Than-Two-Feet-Tall Animals Against The Idea That The Authors Are Real Conference." Stephen whispered back. "I come along for a good laugh."
"Stephen - they're filling the Heptagon with icy water!" Trixie hissed. "What are we going to do?"
"Stay put, I presume." Mr Evan replied. "These burrows are completely watertight, and stocked with a good supply of fresh bugs, dead fieldmice, and there's always the occasional worm wobbling by if you need a bit more protein."
"I love protein!" Pam enthused.
Trixie shuddered. "Well, I guess eating worms is better than dying." She said.
"Good guess!" Stephen replied.
Chapter Twenty-Three : : Chapter Twenty-Five
And so the final three Spin-Off Games contestants and their newfound friend headed through the forest, following Mr Evan because he appeared to know where he was going.
Sure enough, 2 hours, 22 minutes, and 8 wrong turns later, they reached Tribal Circle.
The other Evanses were all seated there patiently, and standing in the host's area was none other than.... E. Ville Jeenius, or Ernie as he is more commonly known!!!!
!!!!
!
Actually nobody was that surprised, because we heard all about him in the previous chapter.
"Haha!" The 11-year old extremely intelligent sinister person laughed. "You thought you could beat the game, but now the game will beat you, final three!"
"Haha yourself, you pimply twerp!" Trixie shot back. "You thought your man was going to win but I blasted a big fleshy hole in his... flesh, and now you've got no shot at the three wishes, 'cos you went and made yourself the host, and everyone knows hosts can't win their own gameshows!"
"Haha right back at you, you obstinate Mexican... Mexican!" Ernie replied. "I figured out a way around that problem which I'm not going to tell you about, so there!"
"Wait, let me guess!" Trixie said. "You'll wait until there's only one winner left, probably one of your tame Evanses, then hold him at gunpoint 'till he gives you the prize, then shoot him anyway?"
"Um, uh... dangit! Shut up, Trixie! Right, anyway!" Ernie drew himself up to his full height, which was a little under 5 feet and not that intimidating. "The final challenge is upon us, and there can only be one winner!"
"I reckon there'll be more than one!" Trixie interjected.
"Dammit Trixie, shut up! There is only one winner, and that's final because I said so and I'm the producer of this show and the script writer and the guy that does the photocopying!"
"You have no control over what happens here Ernie." Trixie shot back.
"Yes I do! I am the owner! I am the script! I am this show!" Ernie replied, his face red with frustration.
"Not quite, Ernie. I met one of the Authors - you're nothing but a pawn in their hands."
"Authors? What are you talking about? If there were Authors, why haven't they made themselves more obviously known by now? And how come there's so much war and suffering? Surely a loving Author wouldn't let that happen! Believing in an Author is just wishful thinking - fairy tale stuff! The real world is a world of science and business, Trixie - wake up to that fact!"
"Ok, Ernie. I'm not going to bother arguing with you. Just say what's going to happen in your stupid final round and we'll let the results speak for themselves about whether or not there are Authors behind all of this."
Ernie sighed a sigh of relief. "Right! As I said before, the final challenge is upon us, and there can only be one winner! In this challenge, it is a simple case of survival of the fittest. At each end of the Heptagon of Battle I have installed a number of huge pumps. Upon my signal, the pumps will begin releasing a slow stream of ice-cold water into the arena. Slowly the place is going to fill up with freezing cold water, hahahahahhahaha!" Ernie's voice crackled as he laughed maniacally. "The winner will be whoever can stay alive the longest."
Nobody looked too happy about this news. One of the Evanses called out, "Hey, I thought you said we was jus gona shoot the broad and be done with it!"
Ignoring his staff member, Ernie raised a small ceremonial pistol, and fired it. "The round starts now!"
Rushing through what was left of the woods (the TULIP had levelled most of the forest, as nobody had bothered / been brave enough to turn it off), Trixie, Taylor and Pam looked around desperately for somewhere a bit higher than the rest of the landscape. Sadly, the mountain from the previous round had disappeared, and all was flat.
"Hey!" Taylor cried. "What about the Echidna cave?"
"Yes, that's a brilliant idea!" Trixie replied excitedly. "But what tree was it under?"
There weren't actually many available trees left. It was highly likely the cave was under one of the stumps - the three of them could have looked for hours without success!
But - by chance (or Author's intention, you decide) they saw a spike-backed creature heading into a hole under a nearby stump. The three quickly followed.
Inside the cave, a bunch of Echidnas and House Cats were seated around a small presentation area listening to a rat. Surprisingly, Steven Evan was also in the crowd. The three quickly joined him.
"Stephen, what is this?" Trixie asked in a whisper.
"Oh, it's the Annual Combined Less-Than-Two-Feet-Tall Animals Against The Idea That The Authors Are Real Conference." Stephen whispered back. "I come along for a good laugh."
"Stephen - they're filling the Heptagon with icy water!" Trixie hissed. "What are we going to do?"
"Stay put, I presume." Mr Evan replied. "These burrows are completely watertight, and stocked with a good supply of fresh bugs, dead fieldmice, and there's always the occasional worm wobbling by if you need a bit more protein."
"I love protein!" Pam enthused.
Trixie shuddered. "Well, I guess eating worms is better than dying." She said.
"Good guess!" Stephen replied.
Chapter Twenty-Three : : Chapter Twenty-Five
posted by Musings | 1:06 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home